+++
Clara
The house was still a mess from the “earthquake” last night, but the good thing
about decorating on a budget was that the furniture was sparse. I dragged a circular
card table out into the foyer and set up five chairs. On the corner buffet I'd set up a percolator with coffee and tea. I’d even gone into town to get a tray
of pastries because honestly, what were you supposed to serve at a séance?
I hadn’t even known you could have a séance in the daytime, but when I agreed to have Dr. Essex come to the house to investigate I’d made him agree to do it in the afternoon when the kids were at school. I had all the windows opened downstairs and sunlight poured into the house, I’d never done tjat before and it was beautiful. I went outside and sat on the portico to finish my cup of coffee. It was so peaceful and quiet out here. It was endless greenery and that single paved road. A part of me finally got it.
Sighing, I went back inside to change out of my cleaning clothes. I had been uncomfortably sleeping in Rose’s room for the past two nights. I was terrified to go anywhere near my bedroom and I mean her bed was bigger than mine anyway. Not that she made it easy, Rose was so punctual about having the lights out at 10pm and I had to share space with a herd stuffed animals I didn’t know she still owned.
After fainting I’d woken up on the floor and Fierro didn’t need to say anything else to me. I believed him. The house was haunted—or at least something simply wasn’t right. I’d told Clarence there was damage in my room to explain why I was staying far away from it, and he didn’t seem to question it. Fierro had gone back to England the next day to plead his case to Essex. Fierro promised me that it was safe to stay inside the house and for some reason I couldn’t quite leave if I’d wanted to. I felt . . . invested.
I straightened when the chime that indicated someone was at the gate went off. I logged onto my computer and saw Bridget and Essex in an old white Plymouth convertible on the security camera. When I entered the code to open the gate it did so effortlessly.
Essex pulled into the drive and the stepped out the car opening the door for Bridget Bishop, the witch ? Both of them surveyed the house and they whispered to each other. I opened the door and very nicely welcomed them both in. I’d changed into a midi length blue dress that was loose around my chest and had a very modest collar.
“This was abandoned?” Bridget asked surveying the house.
“Yes”, I said, going for polite yet resigned.
“Who had it before then?”
“The records were lost some years ago. It’s been a government property for decades.”
“Oh, yes”, Bridget said taking off the scarf draped over her head and slipping off her shades, “I feel . . . something in this house. This is so exciting. Essex we should invite our Thursday night group over to—“
“No”, I said, “This is a private matter. No one else can know about this.”
“In our community having a find like this and not sharing it is uncouth”, Essex explained, “We have to share it. At least on the message boards.”
“If keeping this private is going to be a problem”, I said as politely as I could, “Then you can leave—“
“No no”, said Bridget, “It’s . . . fine.”
“I’ll get, Fierro.” I said. Where was he? I tried calling him but his cellphone rang on the kitchen counter. So I could keep an eye on Essex I called the landline in his bedroom and it went to voicemail.
“I’ll be back”, I said to Essex, “Don’t take anything.”
He laughed and fixed himself and Bridget some tea.
I walked out the backdoor and jogged to the glasshouse. Fierro was sitting at one of the raised tables writing in one of his endless journals.
“They are here”, I said hoping he picked up the begrudging note in my voice.
“Tell him, I’ll be right there.”
“That't not my job, I’m not your assistant, you know.”
He didn’t even look up from the journal to realize I was joking, “For that I am grateful.”
There was a stilted silence and I said what I really wanted to say. Or at least part of what I wanted to say.
“I don’t think now is the time”, He said looking at me for the first time and lingering for just a bit.
“Look, there is a witch and a ghost hunter in my thrice haunted house and I kind of feel like I need a drink. Like a real one. Usually I'd just drink a few glasses without thinking, but now I...”
He put the pen down and walked over to me.
“This is all almost over”, he said. And with some effort he took my hand and we headed back to the house.
“Clara there is something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”
“What is it?” I asked.
He was silent for a while and before long we reached the door.
“It’s been an unusually summer”, he began and I watched his profile, “I realized a few nights ago that—“
“Ah, Fierro”, Essex met us at the door, “As I said. All is forgiven. This opportunity is more than enough of an apology. Tell me, what happened here?” He said pointing to the furniture haphazard in the living room.
“Rose, had a little tantrum”, I said.
“She is such a unique girl. I do hope to see her today.”
I glared at Essex and we all stood around awkwardly. Fierro was standing next to Essex and I could smell the roses on him from where I was standing across the room. Bridget was beaming and circling table I’d set up in the center of the room per her pre-séance e-mail chain.
“So,what exactly does a witch have to do with a séance”, I asked pouring some coffee.
“I’m a medium too dear”, She said and took at seat, “Twice blessed and all. Shall we get started? I need all the windows shuttered and the doors locked. We also need total darkness.”
I tapped on the control panel by the front door and the automatic drapes slowly closed incasing us in totally darkness. Bridget and Essex placed lighted candles in a pentagram on the floor. On the other side of the room Fierro appeared uneasy.
“We just want to talk to them, Ms. Bishop”, Fierro said to Bridget, “To help them. Is all of this necessary?”
“Yes. Yes. Come now. Everyone grab a drink and come to the table”, Bridget instructed
We sat around the table and Bridget produced a vial from her bag and tipped it into everyone’s drink.
“A little holy water for cleansing. I’ll have to bill extra for this.” she added, “Drink up.”
She splashed some liquid into my cup and unlike everyone else I pretended to drink and when no one was looking I tossed my coffee into the vase behind me. Fierro caught my eye but said nothing. I’d sat between Fierro and Bridget as we’d have to hold hands and I did not want Essex’s hands near me. That left the fifth chair empty for our guest I suppose.
Bridget burned a smudge sage stick making the room thick with the essence. She then got up and made a circle on the floor around the table with good quality pink Himalayan sea salt that I’m pretty sure she took from the kitchen.
“Now”, said Bridget, “We need to make this a calm and welcoming space. No judgements we just want to talk to the spirits, yes? SO IF THERE IS ANYONE HERE WHO’D LIKE TO JOIN US WE’D VERY MUCH APPRECIATE IT.”
She raised her voice and I felt a push of air move my dress across my calves. We all looked at the empty fifth chair, then watched as is scooted closer to the table. As if someone politely sat down.
“She's here, ahem, Hello”, Bridget said. “Now we need your name . . . it’s. . . Selena ? Selena Tell us what happened here ? Can we help you ? You can speak through me… Selena says she’s afraid. That she’s not sure how to stop but Selena says is very sorry and. . .hurt ?”
I felt something wet on my cheeks. . . was I crying ? The chair began to move again I felt thick water trail down my other eye.
“She doesn’t think she can stay long. She says the house is very beautiful . . . and she wants to thank you for all the work you put in.” Bridget continued.
“Can I ask her a question?”, I asked.
“We can try but she might--”,
“What soup should I have for lunch today?” I asked in French.
Bridget was quiet and the chair began to move.
“I was thinking something cold”, I said continuing to speak in French, “What do you think ?”
“Hmmm . . . she’s not responding”, Bridget said, “I thinks she’s getting weak—“
“This is bullshit”, I said standing up and opening the drapes
“Why I never—“ Bridget began.
“What?”, I said, “Do you think it’s odd a French ghost doesn’t speak French ? Or is it just an English psychic who doesn’t speak French.” I lifted up the table and sure enough her foot was still hooked around the moving chair.
Essex tried to keep his expression neutral and Bridget just seemed shocked at her own shame.
“I’m sorry”, Bridget said, “I can’t work in this environment. It’s very unwelcoming. I was starting to feel something and then--”
“I think it’s time you left.” I said. This was all so ridiculous.
“Well I never !”, Bridget headed for the door with her nose turned, not even bothering to pack any of her crap. She just stormed out.
“Robert”, Fierro finally said, “What is this? Are you swindling me?”
“No. Bridget is very experienced. I’ll talk to Bridget. Perhaps if we do this again Clara and her negative energy shouldn’t be present.”
“Oh”, I said, “I won’t be present. I’m moving out and finding a house that’s not haunted for a change.”
“Clara”, Fierro said in that same low tone he’d said Essex’s name in.
Essex gathered some of Bridget’s things and gave a polite bow as he made his way out to the car. I could hear them arguing as they drove away. I went to get the broom and started sweeping up all that good salt she’d thrown on the floor.
When I came back to the foyer Fierro was still sitting. He was smoking and staring down into his tea. And. . . the fifth chair was now occupied by a woman with a tower of curly blonde hair piled high on her head and a voluminous pale pink and blue dress that would make Marie Antione envious. Her face covered by a thin porcelain masque
Fierro was stirring his tea clearly not at all aware of our… guest ? I pointed to the woman but I couldn't make the words come out. She looked so real...
"Fierro", I whispered but he didn't hear me, I couldn't make myself form the words. I was...scared. How could he not see her ?
The woman stood up and smiled. I don’t know how I knew she was smiling under the masque but I just knew.
“I really like you, Clara. Truly, I do. ” she said holding out her hands, “My name is Marguerite. I thought I heard someone calling for me. I’m pleased to finally make your acquaintance.”
“Oh”, I said as she came closer, “It’s a costume.”
She lifted the masque, smiled, opened her mouth and everything went black.
+++
Clarence
It wasn’t until the taxi drove away that Clarence even considered he should have tipped the driver, that is what men did after all. He had come up with the idea to call the cab after Clara hadn’t shown up to pick them up from school. He’d used his emergency credit card to pay for it but he hadn’t thought to tip.
The drive only took them as far as Monet drive and they walked in relative silence down the dirt road to the house. He could tell Rose was worried, she’d seemed fine until they’d tried to call the house and got no response. Clarence slowed down his steps when he saw the house in the distance.
“Do you want to race. ?”, He asked Rose. Rose looked up from her feet and tilted her head,“Just to the front door. I mean if you’re up to it.”
Rose bristled but considered it.
“Okay?”, Rose asked, “How do we… race ?”
“Just run as fast as you can? We can watch a movie and the winner gets to pick which one.”
“I suppose I can try”, she said as she zipped her wireless earbuds up in her bag, “Have you seen Roman Holiday? That one is my favorite”
Clarence thought twice about his original plan to let her win.
“On you mark. Get set”, Clarence crouched down, “Go”
Clarence took a step back, giving his cousin just a few seconds head start before charging forward. She wasn’t fast but she was determined When they reached the front stops Rose skidded to a stop and toppled over in the dirt.
“Rose?” Clarence picked up the pace to catch up her. His sister would never forgive him if he hurt her. Or maybe he was more afraid of Rose’s father.
“I’m okay”, she said brushing dirt of herself she looked down at her dirty hands and laughed. Clarence didn't think he'd ever heard her laugh before, “That was—that was fun.”
She caught herself and stopped, but the glimmer of a smile was still there. He helped her up and they took the steps in sync.
“If you think that’s fun you should try playing Terms of War, it just came out for Xbox.”
Rose twisted her mouth
“Maybe. If it’s not too violent.”
At the top of the portico steps the doors swung open. Clarence was surprised to see Clara standing there.
“Rose”, Clara said, “Look at you, you’re covered in dirt. Are you okay ? ”
Rose’s kept two hands around her shoulder bag.
“You forgot to pick us up from school, Mother.”
“I’m so sorry, Rose. “, She said opening the door, “I just lost track of time decorating for the party. You should go clean up for dinner.”
Inside the foyer was transformed, Clarence saw a sets of small gold gilded tables with tall centerpieces made of flower and feathers aroud the room. The curtains were creamy shades of gold and black. Pedestals with big flower arrangements were set up through the room. And right by the staircase was an impressive tower of champagne glasses. For a party his sister had been cagey about she seemed to be in the spirit of things.
“Where’s Papa ?”, Rose asked still clutching the strap of her bag.
“He’s taking nap. It’s very exhausting you know. All the time he spends worry about you.”
Rose’s eyes go to the gray tie sticking out of Clara’s apron pocket. Clara pushed it into her pocket and ruffles Rose’s hair, before moving into the kitchen. Rose dashes up the stairs and quickly disappears into her room. Clarence settles into his room trying to find an Xbox game Rose might like to play. Nothing violent but something with a lot of strategy and good artwork. She’d like that. Hopefully they’d have time to try a few, summer was almost over and he started to realize that he’d rather miss her when he was back in America.
His door suddenly shut and he jumped. He turned to see Rose standing in his room breathing hard. She flitted around his room stuffing his book bag with clothes and toiletries.
“Rose?”
“We have to go”, she said frantically.
“What’s going on?”
“Come on”, she said opening the door and peeking into the hall.
“What’s—“
She grabbed Clarence’s hand without much consideration on his part and pulled him along with her down the spiral stairs.
“Rose, what’s--”
“Shhh”, she whispered as they approached the front door. Keeping an eye out behind her she slowly opened the door.
“Wh. . Where are we going?” he whispered, “It's dark out and your mom will--”
“That’s not my mother.” Rose said.
“What?”
“We have to run Clarence. Right now. Please.”
“Are you sure we should be—“
The wind slammed the front door shut before they could step out. Rose and Clarence turned to see his sister standing in the foyer. At least he thought it was his sister.
“Rosie”, Clara said, “I found the perfect thing to wear to the party… what do you think? I found it just lying around.”
Clara’s voice came from behind the blue and gold full face masque over her features
“Hey”, Clarence felt like he was experiencing dejavu, “That’s the masque from your drawing, Rose. The one the--”
Clarence stopped remembering The Cake Lady was a secret between them. But still the masque looked just like the one in her drawing. Clara turned to look at herself in the mirror, absently running her hands through her long hair. She turned back to Rose and held out her arms.
“Come here sweetheart, I think you need to take a very long time out.” She said with the masque still on.
Clara took a step forward, but before she could descend the steps she was pulled back into the shadows. She let out a scream and Clarence went stiff with uncertainly watching Fierro pull and drag his sister up the stairs and away from them. He’d caught her by surprise and she struggled in his grasp.
“Run. Rose”, Fierro said struggling to pull a flailing Clara up the stairs.
“Papa she’s–“
“Run”, he yelled at her
Rose grasped Clarence’s hand and turned her focus to the front door. A sudden gust of wind forced the door open and something about the look in the man’s eye and the sudden violence his sister possessed made Clarence turn and follow Rose out the door. He glimpsed Fierro drag a struggling Clara up the steps as the front door shut behind them.
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Author's Note
Yes, many of you guessed pretty much line for line that The Cake Lady was wearing a costume.