Amateur Hour

When she opened her eyes again, the room was dim, with the only light cast by the TV, which was showing something she didn’t recognize. Her quick inhalation woke Gil, who had been drooling a bit, on her leg.

The dog yawned, hopped off the sofa, stretched thoroughly, and shook himself. Then, he eyed the door, suggestively.

“Give me a minute,” Lisa pleaded, when he came to sit and fix her with his attentive stare. She rubbed her eyes, trying to focus. Finally, she rose and stretched.

She could see her breath, in the glow of the porch light, and she hastily zipped up her jacket, hoping it would be a short walk, though the cold air was starting to wake her up.

Gil was raring to go, and this time, he did pull at his leash. Lisa stumbled, trying to keep up, gravel and stones rolling out from under her feet. She wished she had taken the time to put on a knit cap; her head and ears were starting to get cold.

“Okay, make it quick,” she instructed the dog, when they were finally at a place where she could let him go off leash. “No critter chasing, either,” she admonished him.

Gil trotted away, happily, leaving her to stand, shivering. The stars were bright and cold, above. The rising full moon negated the need for a flashlight out here, on the gravel road that ran the perimeter of the church acre. The pines cast sharply limned shadows on the ground, in its light, and Lisa strolled slowly toward the rear of the property. A faint smell of wood smoke was in the air. Undoubtedly some distant neighbor had fired up his fireplace or woodstove.

Lisa didn’t know if it was the fact that she was chilled, or the suggestive thought of warmth, but she was suddenly aware of her own need to pee.

“Gillie–” she called. “C’mon, Gil!” She clapped her hands to summon him, and she could hear him, the world’s noisiest hunter, making his way back to her. “Hope you did your thing, Stealth Bomber, because I–” turning, she saw not Gil, but a man with a torch. It was the closest she had ever come to fainting.

In the torch’s flickering light, she saw that he wasn’t very tall; a lean man, very nearly emaciated. His face was dirty, and his fading blue uniform was tattered. The expression on his face was grim, with purpose, and he didn’t see her, though she was right in front of him. Even as she registered that fact, two more uniformed men pulled up behind him.

The trio drew together, and she could see their lips moving, but she couldn’t hear their consultation. The leader nodded toward the church, and an image flashed into her mind of the building that had been in the old photo, only it was in color, and somehow she was seeing it, from a different angle, as she might have seen it, from where she was now standing. Color? How was she seeing so much color, at night?

The scent of smoke was stronger, and she realized that it was from the three torches, which had been crudely made of lighter wood, from the pine forest. The phrase, ‘weapons of opportunity’, passed through her mind.

As though in a trance, Lisa turned her own head, in the direction of the church grounds. Her house was gone. The only objects in view were the wood frame structure of the church, the paint still crisp and white, and the burial ground set at some distance to the rear of it. A mockingbird sang nearby, and it was a bright day in spring. The torches the men held were not for illumination, she realized. They were tools to accomplish a job.

In spite of the illusion of spring, Lisa was cold–so cold, and ice was flowing through her veins, under pressure from her slamming heart. Then, she heard a fierce snarl. She whipped her head back in time to see Gill crash through the middle of the soldiers, bellowing his famous bark. The men dissipated, as if they were mist—or smoke.

When she turned to look back to the church, all was as she had left it, when she had walked out with Gil.

She felt her legs go out from under her, and the stones bit into her knees, as she hit the ground. Gil continued to bark, for a few seconds, then came to stick his icy nose into her ear. “Good boy,” she said, in a hoarse voice. Gil licked her face, and kept up the nuzzling and licking, until she gathered her wits enough to stand up.

Dazed and unsteady, Lisa forgot to re-leash her dog, but it didn’t matter. Gil stuck to her like a shadow, as they made their way back to the house.

Her first impulse, once her coat was off, was to call Tuck Rawlings. She rejected the notion, immediately. This was not a law enforcement matter. This was either a matter of her losing her mind, or a matter for… Whom? An exorcist? No. A haunting was not a possession, and she didn’t think she was, herself, possessed. Nor was she entirely sure she was losing her mind. After all, Gil had experienced something, too, she was sure of it.

As soon as she was able, she put on a pot of water, and dropped a teabag into a cup. She was still chilled—more so than her short excursion into the chilly night warranted. As for Gil, he seemed absolutely fine, as if chasing ghosts was just part of an ordinary evening, for him. He lay on his dog bed, chewing his toy, with relish, though he kept one eye on her, the whole time.

The electric kettle was performed its job, very quickly. In two minutes, she was pouring water over the teabag, albeit with a hand that still shook. She sank into a chair, while her tea steeped. Kelly’s business card was in front of her, as was Tuck’s. She sighed, and removed the bag from the cup and added sugar. She didn’t know either of them well enough to run screaming them for help. And, what could they do, anyway? The incident was over. Well, it was over, for now. Living here was turning into a case of one incident after another.

“So many manifestations, so few resources,” she commented to Gil, dryly. His response was to hop up and carry the toy to her, and push it at her free hand. “Gimme that,” she demanded, wrenching it out of his sturdy teeth, to toss it, underhand across the room. Delighted, Gil darted after it and brought it back to her, for another round. She had to chuckle a little. He really was a good dog, if a bit on the goofy side.

Lisa calmed down enough in time to order a pizza– surprisingly, she lived just within the delivery area of Domino’s, and she had also just enough time for a quick shower and to dress in modest PJ’s and a robe, before the delivery girl arrived.

She ate well, occasionally committing the sin of feeding Gil a crust or two, from the table, which he appreciated. Even though her hair was still damp, she went to bed, shortly afterward, but sleep didn’t happen until nearly 2 am. Lisa kept expecting gun blasts that didn’t come, that night.

She was roused the next morning by someone who seemed to be trying to hammer the front door down. A tug at the curtain revealed it to be Kelly.

“Sorry,” she said, when Lisa opened the door. “The church was locked. I came by to check the traps.”

“Oh. Well, come in.”

“Thanks,” Kelly smiled. “Hi, Gil—How’s the boy this morning?” she asked him, leaning down to pat his shoulder. She straightened, and looked at Lisa. “You look like hell, this morning,” she commented.

“Yeah, well– my hair was still damp, when I went to bed.” Lisa ran her fingers through it.

“No, I mean you look like you had a bad night.”

Lisa uttered a harsh little bark that was supposed to be a laugh. “Gee, thanks. Coffee?” It was habit, to offer, even though she felt thorny and cranky.

“Sure, thanks. You didn’t want to try the old books in the freezer trick?” she asked nodding toward the ledgers that were still on the counter.

“I forgot. I should have put them all out on the porch, last night. It was nearly cold enough.” She tried to shake off her irritability, or at least to conceal it. None of it was Kelly’s fault, after all.

“You know, Tuck has a couple of chest freezers. I could ask him, if he has some room–”

“I’d hate to bother him. I’ll deal with them.”

“I doubt it would be much bother. I’m always foisting things off on him for temporary storage. I live in an apartment, so, no room for extra appliances. He doesn’t mind. Aside from some thousand year-old venison, there’s not much in them,” Kelly laughed.

“No,” Lisa repeated. She brought the coffee to the table, and sat down.

“Why not? Are you one of those I-don’t-need-a-man-for-anything types?”
“Obviously.” Lisa was starting to go from cranky to annoyed.

Kelly just laughed again. “I don’t think that’s you, at all. You were ticked off at him, yesterday. But I thought you had ironed that out.”

“I don’t think that’s really relevant. He’s a cop. I’m a citizen. That’s our relationship.”

“Oh, my… a place for everything and everyone. Well, it’s organized, at least. Me, I think there’s such a thing as carrying independence a smidge too far, but…”

“Damsel in distress isn’t my thing.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake! Does that apply, when you are in distress?”

“I’m not–”

“You haven’t seen yourself, this morning. Even I can tell you didn’t sleep well, last night. And, I have a notion what’s going on, with this place. So, what happened? Spill it.”
“Not much. Saw some more ghosties, last night, when I was walking Gil. I’d think I was nuts, but Gillie saw them, too. Ran them off, in a manner of speaking.”

“Did he? What a good boy you are, Gil!” There was no hint of disbelief in Kelly’s voice or manner.

Of course, skeptical Lisa reflected, Kelly was something of a psychologist, whether she knew it, herself, or not. She could be humoring her.

“Do you know who they were?” Kelly asked.

“Oh, just three Union soldiers with torches made from lighter knots,” Lisa shrugged. “The leader was a Sergeant, I think,” she added, remembering the chevrons on the first man’s sleeve. “The moon was up, and the sun was bright. Birds and crickets singing, at the same time.”

“Sounds like you had ghosts and a vision.”

“I don’t have visions. I’m as subtle and sensitive as that rock that marks those Yankee soldiers’ grave.”

“That would be a low level of subtlety, if it were true. I’ve seen that inscription. I’ve always thought it was heavy handed. You know, ‘damn Yankees’ is a common expression, around here. But that stone calls them ‘damned’ Yankees. As if they were already certainly burning in hell.” Kelly shook her head, and helped herself to another cup. “So, what did you do, after that?”

“Came inside. Warmed up. Ordered pizza.”

“Why didn’t you call someone? I see Tuck’s card, right here on the table, along with mine.”

“And what could he do? Arrest them?”

“You could have called me.”

“We just met, yesterday.”

“Well, that’s kind of silly. Who else do you know, around here? You get help from the people you you’re acquainted with, while your circle of friends expands. True, we don’t know each other very well, but I can tell you’re making light of the thing.”

“How do you know I’m not lying about all of it?”

“You could be, sure. But, unless you’d done a heap of research, before you moved here, into sources that no one else seems to have access to, you didn’t know squat about this place. And, as far as I can see, there’s no motive. Money is off the table. Blackmail? Revenge? Craving attention? None of those are any more likely.”

“How about publicity, for my business?” Lisa grinned.

“Have you gone to the press? No.” Kelly answered her own question. “I don’t think you’re lying. As far as being nuts goes, you don’t seem any more deranged than half my own family. I can prove it. Hang around long enough, and I’ll carry you with me to one of our picnics.”

“Funneling beers, target practice on the back part of the acre, gossip on the front porch, illicit fireworks and moonshine, in the evening?”

“So, you’ve already been to one,” Kelly feigned disappointment.

“That was my last Fourth of July. My parents are pretty quiet, for the most part, but all bets are off, after a couple of beers at a family get together. My brother is the most reserved, of all of us.”

“Do any of them have any inkling of what you’re dealing with, here?”

“Brother Liam does.”

“Is he a minister, or something?”

“Nah. That’s just what I call him, to tease him. He’s a teacher, down in Winter Park. How about you? Any siblings?”

“One sister, two brothers. I count Tucker as a third. I was the baby, and very spoiled,” Kelly laughed.

“By your brothers, especially, I’m guessing.”

“Why, yes. Pretty obvious, isn’t it? I adore them, but my sister is awesome as hell, too. We don’t have a lot in common, but we get along very well. She believes in a lot of weird, airy fairy stuff. You know, Tarot, crystals, that kind of thing. Mandy has a little business, too—Silver Chalice Apothecary, on the far side of town. I don’t share her beliefs, but the shop is fun. I like the jewelry she sells. Of course, she calls herself Lady Amanda. ‘Mandy’ is too common for her crowd, I guess. If you decide to check it out, feel free to drop my name—she’ll give you a free tea leaf reading.”

“Now you’re just pulling my leg,” Lisa accused, at this last.

“I’m as serious as Socrates.” Kelly glanced at her watch. “I’d better get moving. I could talk, all day, but duty calls.”

“Kelly, what are you going to do, if the trap with the poison baits is full?”

“Swap it out, for an empty one. Don’t worry, I’m not going to leave dead or dying rats sitting around. The ones that haven’t been caught yet, would get wise to that, in a hurry.”

“You’re an idiot,” Lisa told herself, as she pulled into a parking space, under a huge oak tree, and killed her engine. From the outside, the Silver Chalice didn’t look very mystical. It was a small wood frame house, painted lavender, that had been turned into a store. The pavement of the parking lot had been built around several old trees, like the one she had just parked under, obviously not meant to accommodate more than ten cars, at any one time. She liked it, though.

It wasn’t impressive, but it had a kind of charm. The flower beds were filled with perennials, many of which had died back, but there were plenty of evergreens to save it from looking desolate, at this time of the year. She was relieved to see that she wouldn’t have to knock or ring to gain entry. The front door was a simple glass door with “pull” inscribed on a brass plate, by the handle.

The entry had been built on what had originally been the front porch. Glassed in, on three sides, it was cozily warm, and filled to the brim with statuettes, wind chimes, hand drums, posters, and yes—one or ten silver chalices. It was a lot to take in, though it was well organized and filled with a pleasant blend of woody, herbal smells, with a strong overtone of recently burned incense.

As Lisa moved further into the building, she saw crystals and stones galore to her left, incense and oils to her right, and squarely in front of her the sales counter over a closed jewelry display.

The tall woman manning it, looked up from her book and smiled. “Welcome,” she said. “May I help you find anything?”

“I don’t quite know what I’m looking for,” Lisa said, returning the smile. “Is it all right, if I browse?”

“Please, do. I’m right here, if you have any questions.”

“I do have one. Do you have a book section?”

“That whole room, over there,” the woman nodded to a room off to Lisa’s right. “Are you looking for anything, in particular?”

“Um…Well… Do you have any information about ghosts?”

Just asking, made her feel ridiculous.

“I have books on spirits. Sometimes they’re the same thing, sometimes not.” Seeing Lisa’s puzzled look, she elaborated. “Ghosts are spirits that were people who have passed on, and are resident to a specific place. Other spirits can be guides or helpers that one can summon, for assistance, who then leave, when they’ve accomplished their purpose. Then, there are malevolent spirits, but that’s another can of worms.”

“What I’m dealing with seems to be the first type.”

The proprietor, who could only be Lady Amanda, closed her book, and came around the counter. She was dressed in a bohemian skirt, of lavender paisley, boots, and a white peasant blouse. Her grey ponytail was caught in a matching lavender Scrunchie, and she wore a necklace of tumbled amethyst chips. In short, she was an unabashed stereotype, with something of her sister’s warmth and confidence. “Let’s see what I’ve got,” she said.

“Fair warning,” Lisa said, joining her, in the side room, “your sister sent me.”

“Did she, the little Dickens? That was sweet. That’s a free reading for you, whenever you want it. Is she getting varmints out of your house?”

“My church, actually. The house doesn’t even have roaches, that I’ve seen.”

“Ah… So you’re the one. You bought St. Brigid’s.”

“Guilty.”

“Well, it’s a hot spot, if ever there was one. It fairly crackles, with paranormal energy.”

“You’ve been there?” Lisa asked, as she watched Amanda skim her finger lightly over the spines of some of the books, beginning to pull some out.

“No one could keep me away, when I was a girl.”

“What’s your impression of the place?”

“Impression? I have more than one, I’m afraid. The church itself is mostly fine. I don’t like the rectory, at all. I love the woods, especially the grotto.”

“The grotto?”

“You haven’t found that, yet? It’s at out past the Yankee Stone, as we used to call it. Neat little place—we played there, as kids. It’s just a shallow little cave, nothing ominous about it.”

“How did you get out to the church?”

“On our bikes and horses. Honey, we don’t all live right here in town, and even if we did, a few miles is nothing to a kid on a bike. Back then, traffic was nothing, either. Here are a few books,” she offered a stack of five of them to Lisa. “They’re all pretty good for getting an understanding of spirits, and what motivates them. Now, I’m afraid there’s nothing in any of these that would be much help in getting rid of them, which I assume is what you want, in the end, but you might find more, in the library, and those are books you can actually check out, not reference material.”

“Do you think it’s wrong, to want to get rid of them?” Lisa didn’t know why she asked this. Why should she care about this woman’s opinion, when her whole life was falling into disarray? Yet, she was curious.

“Some spirits cling to a place because they don’t realize they have the option to leave. Given the option, when it’s spelled out to them, in clear terms, most of them will go. Personally, I believe earthbound spirits only act out, when they’re unhappy. If they’re content, they don’t trouble the living. We don’t even realize they’re there. Your spirits are behaving badly, I would guess.” Amanda cocked her head, in a questioning gesture.

“They’re certainly making their presence known. And, it’s scary.”

Amanda nodded, and turned to go back out into the main part of the store. “You might try talking to them,” she shrugged. “That might help you coexist, until you figure out what method you want to employ to encourage them to leave.”

“I did yell at one, a few nights ago. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard anything from it, since.”

“It’s probably not gone, but maybe it heard you. There are other things you can do, too. Smudging with sage often purifies your space, and pacifies spirits. You could also get certain stones and place them in your rooms, to absorb negative energies—like putting a box of baking soda in your fridge.”

“What stones, exactly?” Lisa asked, gazing around her. There were enough stones in this store to sink several bodies into the Everglades, forever.

“Onyx is good. Obsidian. Black tourmaline is especially good, and one of my favorites. It doesn’t matter whether they’re tumbled or rough, or carved into shapes. Have a look around, and see what grabs you,” she invited.

In the end, Lisa was grabbed, to the tune of $129.98, and she only took three of the books. It was her own fault, for preferring carvings to rough stones, but they were pretty. She selected a pyramid, for the living room table, which could easily double as a weapon. For the other rooms, she chose obelisks of various sizes, and an angel, for the church. All of those were black tourmaline. She also came away with a sage bundle, and a clam shell to burn it in. The costliest single item was the moonstone charm, in the shape of an owl, set in silver. Amanda had thrown in a silver box chain to match it. All of the stones had been individually wrapped in silver tissue, with a sprinkling of dried lavender, and the car smelled sweet, yet not cloying, when she drove away. She was wearing the necklace, however.

Kelly had been right about one thing—It really was a fun store. While Amanda had wrapped her things, Lisa made herself at home, poking her nose into two more rooms. One had contained divination tools, pendulums, Tarot decks, runes, spirit boards, etc. The other room was stocked with herbs and candles.