Authors: Phaedra Weldon
Tags: #paranormal, #zoe martinique, #abysmal, #bonville, #symbtiont, #dags, #shadow people, #grimoire, #astral plane, #wraith
Heh.
"Honey," Nona said in a quiet voice. "Captain
Cooper's with him. He comes in when you're not there. Asked me to
give him a buzz when you left."
I blinked. Wha--? The Captain hated me that
much that he didn't want to be there when I was?
"Now don't freak out. Captain Cooper's good
for Daniel, and he's a good man himself. No--he's not too fond of
you, but I'm working on him. I called him this morning and said I
wanted you to get away for a bit and he promised to keep a close
watch on Daniel. When we're done with these pesky shadow folk I'll
take you back to the hospital myself. Okay?"
I looked at her. I mean I really looked at
mom. And I saw a part of me staring back. And a part of her. I was
the sum of part of her. And of dad. And I could see in her eyes
that she understood the guilt and the pain I was going through--and
she also understood how much I needed to get away from it all.
I needed to breathe for a while. And not the
air of the sick and the dying.
"Zoë," Rhonda said and I looked at her, aware
my mom was slipping her arm over my shoulders. "Look at yourself.
Have you taken a good look? It's like--something's being sucked out
of you. Or you're missing something. You look dried up and used.
You need to get out of there."
And the truth was, I felt just like she said.
I felt used and dried up. The constant spooks that appeared in that
hospital--the ones I ignored as best as I could--the shades,
ghosts, entities, wisps--they were all there. Yammering at me.
Trying to get my attention.
Day after day after day.
And how many times had I caught one of them
in Daniel's room and I'd chased it out. All of it was taking a
rather large toll on me.
And I'd finally seen it in the bathroom
mirror a little while ago.
"Let's go see these Shadow Folk," Dags said
and he got up and went to the coat closet by the front door to
retrieve the pea-coat he'd been wearing earlier.
Mom hugged me. Really hugged me and I
squeezed her back as hard as I could. She put her hands on my face
and smiled at me. Blue eyes to brown. "Eat, Zoë. I'm not used to
seeing you so skinny. And I worry. Okay? Me and Jemmy are gonna do
a bit more research on Dr. Bonville. You go investigate the
Folk."
I nodded and smiled. Sniffed. When had I
started crying?
I disengaged myself and followed Rhonda from
the table. As I passed her I scribbled on my board and handed it to
her. U MAKE 1 CRACK ABOUT CRY & I SUC UR SOUL THRU UR NOSE.
She stiffened but didn't say a word as we
grabbed coats and left the Botanica and Tea Shop. Until we got
outside.
"You do realize your spelling is starting to
look a lot like LOLcats, don't you?"
Bite me.
*****
CHAPTER THREE
We took Mom's car. It was either that or
somehow squeeze three people in Rhonda's Beetle (not comfortable)
or Dags' truck. Of course once we got in the car, Rhonda and Dags
sat in the back and started talking about weird stuff. Ghosts,
spirits, the different planes, and me.
Not so happy with me being the subject. I was
driving which takes up my hands. Retorting was out of the question
unless we wanted to end up on the side of the road.
The weather was so-so. Overcast. Cold. Rainy.
Sort of reflected my mood. I did not want to do this. I checked my
watch. I wanted to get to the hospital, grab my snacks and sit in
my chair in Daniel's room. I was still terrified he was going to
wake up and I wouldn't be there. I wanted to be the first thing he
saw when he opened those eyes.
Hrm...might consider a facial. All the
blubbering and bad eating I'd been doing was taking a toll on my
skin.
The Livery Bar and Restaurant was in Roswell,
a quaint little historic town up north of Atlanta. About a
forty-minute drive with traffic. Less than ten minutes if Mom's
driving--but then she thinks she's descended from Speed Racer.
Eh...what did that make me? Spridle or Chim-Chim?
I took the more scenic route--not because I
wanted the scenery but because I really wasn't paying attention, my
radar on autopilot. I drove Elizabeth up Roswell Road which became
Atlanta Road as we entered the city limits just over the river as a
wild wind blew a lot of debris over the street. Roswell Square came
into view real fast.
The Square was an actual square, complete
with a sort of park in the center. Shops surrounded the park--from
antique places to a camera shop on the corner near the Restaurant.
As we drove in, the park was on my left and the Livery was on the
right, nestled beside the Roswell Chamber of Commerce.
The square was filled with green grass,
picnic areas, classic southern gnarled oaks and a gazebo to the
right, directly across from the Livery. I pulled the car up to the
curb on Dags' suggestion, in front of the restaurant. It wouldn't
open for official business for another three hours, and parking at
the curb would be okay for now.
He had a key and we went inside the front
door.
The fun stuff about old buildings in Georgia
in general was usually their history--which leant itself to all
sorts of crazy stories.
"This building started out as a general
store, back during the Civil War," Dags said as he took his coat
off and stepped in ahead of us. "The main business was taken care
of down here," he pointed to the steps that obscured the view of
the rest of the lower dining area. "Up there was where all the
grain and supplies were stored."
The place did have an odd shape to it. Aged
brick made up the walls all around. There was a mini-bar to the
right a ways in, and a path that lead to the bathroom. I assumed it
lead to the kitchens as well. Looking up, just to the right of the
stairs, was a hole in the ceiling, a cut-through that allowed
desert diners up stairs to gaze down on the dinner people
below.
But what made it fun was all the Christmas
decorations. Silver and red tinsel was wound around every banister
or pole visible to the eye. A tall, skinny tree decorated in white
and gold ornaments and surrounded by presents sat to the right. I
was sure when it was turned on it had only white lights too.
And I could smell it. It was a real tree!
"When this place was a funeral parlor," Dags
continued, after tossing his coat on a nearby chair. All the tables
were square, made of dark-polished wood. "They kept the coffins
upstairs and that hole is where they would lower them down."
I looked up again. Ew.
"Are there any actual stories about ghosts
with this place?"
"Oh you bet," Dags smiled. "Civil War Romeo
and Juliet. The owner of the general store had a daughter, who fell
in love with a soldier from the North. They carried on a torrid
affair for a long time, until they were discovered. He was hung in
the square for treason and it was reported she took her own life in
the attic."
"She hung herself?" Rhonda asked.
Dags shook his head. "No one knows, really.
Some say she threw herself off the top of the building, some say
she hung herself. But it's up there where the real freaky stuff
happens." His smile vanished. "Be careful, okay? This is where
Jamie Reed had her accident and the jerk manager won't pay for
workman's compensation." He looked away. "This is also where I last
saw Maureen."
Yikes. I immediately started looking around
for Maureen's ghost. They seemed to follow me around lately--but
there didn't seem to be any sign of one. In fact, I wasn't seeing
anything weird.
"But you said she disappeared." Rhonda
frowned at him. "You're thinking disappeared is dead?"
Dags nodded. "She's dead. It's just the last
time she was seen was here--I saw her. And then she was found dead
in the square."
"When you say you saw her here," Rhonda said,
leaning her head toward him. "You mean you saw her ghost here
before she was found dead? Or you saw her alive here before she was
found dead."
He frowned at her and blinked. "The first
one. Only, I didn't know she was dead, 'cause she looked alive to
me. But they said she'd been dead for twenty-four hours, which
meant she'd already been dead."
There was a very odd pause. No one said
anything.
I waved at him to get his eyes off of Rhonda
(and because word problem always gave me a headache) and pointed
upstairs.
Are we okay to go upstairs?
Dags nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Let's go on
up."
I nodded and looked up the steps. Well, so
this is where the oogies hang out--let's go see.
The stairs were a straight, slanted shot up.
I could just make out the back end of a baby-grand on the way up.
As well as the back of a brick wall and a gold-framed landscape
picture. Another tree--only this one was decorated in blue and
green--gleamed at me against the far wall. The air felt different
up here--not warmer like I expected 'cause you know--warm air
rises. But more like...
Cold
.
Just as I topped the first step something
slammed hard into my right shin. I let out a silent whoosh of air
much like a scream--only--not. I did tumble forward into the edge
of the piano and knocked it with my weight.
"Zoë!" Dags was up the stairs and beside me,
his hand on my arm.
"Did you
see
that?" I heard Rhonda say
in a more than excited voice.
No I didn't see a damned thing. Though my
shoulder connected pretty hard with the piano leg. Ow. That sucked.
I could hear Rhonda behind me, her weight making the hardwood
creak. But as I pushed myself up to be on hands and knees with Dags
trying his best to be helpful but instead getting in my way, I did
catch something--well--dark and fuzzy--out of the corner of my
eye.
Now--seeing smoky, blacky, whispy things out
of the corner of my eye had become a norm since changing into a
Wraith--or whatever. I saw them all the time. Mostly it was always
in the shadows of a place--though not in my home or my Mom's. I did
see them a lot in old buildings, and in hospitals.
Sheesh. Hospital. Another name for Grand
Central Station.
I rarely saw these things in the daylight–and
trust me--with the time of day and where the Livery's front
faced--there was direct sun streaming into that loft. So I made
sure that I stood up slowly, and cautiously, because whatever it
was, it'd wasted no time trying to shove me into the piano.
"There it goes again!" Rhonda almost squealed
with delight.
Well, I was glad someone was having a good
time. Me? Not so much. I was getting a little unnerved by the whole
thing. I didn't get the whole "wee.. we're chasing ghosts" fun that
Rhonda was high on.
I straightened up and stood in front of the
piano, the window behind me on the opposite side of the baby grand,
the staircase down to my right. The cut-through was just a few feet
away as well, surrounded by a waist high mahogany banister.
Taking in more of the place, smaller tables
were spaced out evenly about the area, though I could see where
they could all be placed facing the piano. You know, just in case
Billy Joel showed up.
The entire back wall was a bar. And I mean a
nice
bar. The wall was covered from ceiling to --well--it
might go to the floor. The bar obscured it for me. Trimmed in shiny
brass--it was impressive.
"Nice, eh?" Dags said as he moved away from
me and then continued to the bar. "This is where I work most
shifts. Maureen never came up here. Refused too--said there was
something up here that gave her the creeps."
I snapped my fingers at Rhonda to get her
attention and motioned for her to hand me a pen and paper.
Okay–so--yeah I should carry my own. But I hated carrying bags,
much less a purse. Rhonda liked backpacks.
And she was organized. She kept a small
notepad and pen in an outside pocket and handed them to me.
"You really should consider sign language,"
Dags said.
I scribbled. YOU KNOW SIGN LANGUAGE?
He nodded. "Sure."
Scribble, scribble. HOW MANY OTHER PEOPLE YOU
KNOW USE SL?
He pursed his lips. "Good point. But--if you
learn it and Rhonda learns it, then it's easier for her to
interpret for you."
'Scuse me? Rhonda interpret? Hell no! She'd
PG me!
"Interpret huh? I like that," Rhonda said
with a smile. She moved away from the stairs, which made me feel a
little better. "Maybe then I could get on a real payroll."
Phhhttt
.
I turned the page. Scribble. SO--YOU SEEN THE
BROWNIES UP HERE?
"I'm not buying the Brownies angle," Dags
said. "But I've seen them out of the corner of my eye--just like a
few seconds ago. There is no reason to trip up that step, Zoë. But
you're not the first to do it. Almost everyone that's new up here
does it. Customers are almost used to it happening. It's like a
game."
I was watching him. I scribbled again. BUT
YOU DON'T THINK IT'S A GAME TO THE BROWNIES?
He shook his head slowly.
"So, did you see it, Zoë?" Rhonda asked as
she neared us. "When it tripped you?"
I shook my head, and then frowned. I pointed
at her and Dags got what I was indicating.
"Good point," he said. "Why didn't it trip
Rhonda?"
"Maybe because I saw it?"
I pursed my lips. Maybe--but I wasn't buying
that. Instead I moved away from the two of them and started looking
at the walls and the ceiling. There were a couple of shadowy places
to the right, where the banister of the cut-through met the brick
wall. And there was another one on the opposite side where a part
of the brick stuck out further than the main wall.
Oh, and there was always behind the bar.
My heart pounding in my chest, I moved slowly
to the bar, my hands out at my side and I braced myself against the
bar before looking over the side.
Nothing. Though it
was
shadowy.