+1+
Ms. DeLune
We are having dinner in Hampshire. Please dress accordingly. We leave at 6:15 pm.
Ms. DeLune had the handwritten message in her hand when I pulled around the driveway in her car. Rose was sitting on the steps next to Clara, her eyes on her sketchbook.
Clara stood up, nearly tripping over her high heels.
“Rose”, Clara said, “You have Mrs. Tobin’s number if something happens. She’s not that far away. Please you and Clarence stay in the house. Do your homework. I’m trusting you alone.”
“Yes, Mother”, she said not looking up.
“We’ll be back by—“
“Midnight”, I said
“Midnight?” she said surprised.
By the time I’d stepped out to open Clara’s car door, she was already inside
I went over to Rosalie who, after calming down yesterday, had gone to school and kept to herself. After hearing what Rose had to say I called the company that had installed the security cameras and with some help reviewed the stored footage. There was an unexplainable tape of Clara walking out of the house at midnight, her eyes closed and her hands full of invitations. “Not again, Clara”, I’d said to the screen.
“Where are you going?” Rose asked, “I want to go.”
“You have school in the morning.” Clara called from the car.
Rose and I moved up the portico steps and out of her earshot.
“Are you afraid to stay alone, Rose?” I asked her.
“No. Nothing scares me anymore.”
“Rose”, I whispered, “I promised I’d take care of everything. You have to let me do that. Your job is to watch over Clarence.”
“He’s so very . . . particular sometimes.”
“He’s family”, I said tilting her chin to have her look me in the eye, “ Remember if anything happens, if you’re in danger you have to run. Promise me.”
“Where do I go?” she asked.
“I think you know where”, I said vaguely. Not sure who or what could be listening to us.
She nodded once and I was glad I’d also had Clarence promise to watch out for Rose. I waited for her to walk into the house and lock the door behind her. I feared they may need to rely on each other very soon
+++
Clara
I fell asleep in the car. I’d spent all day at the lawyer’s office finishing up the U.S corporation documents for the foundation and it was exhausting. One of my goals was to sponsor at least ten kids a year at the Texas hospital Rose was treated at. It was looking to be my fulltime job until I could pass it on, I needed to get back to my music.
The idea of finally getting a night alone felt necessary. I wanted to make up for the way I’d been acting and I don’t think we’d ever officially been on a date.
We were driving along a clustered neighborhood filled with old Victorian houses. Fierro expertly parked my Range Rover on the narrow street next to a pale blue house on the corner. The house was glorious and so quaint. It reminded me of. .. Well Litany Lane. Is that why he’d brought me here?
I fixed up my make up in the mirror putting on another layer of magenta lipstick and finger combing the oversized curls that fell down my back. I had made sure the double tape on my risky mini black wrap dress was secure by the time he came around and opened my door. Risky not risqué because I’d be fine if I didn’t fall out of it. I wasn’t comfortable but I wanted to look good. I wanted to look irresistible. He took my hand and I followed him up to the house. It could have been a bed and breakfast . . . but I didn’t see a sign out.
Fierro knocked on the door and a tall woman in all black answered. She had long straight black hair, beautiful pale skin and ruby red lips. Her caked on makeup hinting at the wrinkles she was trying to hide. I smiled feeling a bit uneasy.
“Good Evening”, Fierro said and the woman stepped aside and let him in, his hand left mine and the woman stopped me before I could enter.
“What are you?” she asked
The question threw me off, it reminded me of a line from Alice in Wonderland. A book I’d had to read to Rose thousands of time at her insistence.
“What?” I said and realized I came off a little rude.
I watched as Mr. Fierro walked further into the room while I remained trapped with this strange woman.
“I mean you are something else, entirely.” The woman said and broke into a huge smile.
“I should. . . catch up.”
She stepped aside and let me slip in. The inside of the house was ornate and cluttered with antiques and old furniture that matched the Victorian style of the house. A fine layer of dust covered everything and I hoped this wasn’t a restaurant. There were some people milling around a parlor. A couple and a man who looked to be in his forties. Everyone was dressed casually but elegant.
“Bridget Bishop”, the pale woman from the front door said. Introducing herself with a soft fake American accent and handing me a glass of wine.
Really?
If I didn’t smell something delicious coming from the kitchen I’d be so gone. I nonchalantly flipped my clutch open and realized Mr. Fierro still had my car keys . . . and had he taken my phone ?
“I’m Clara DeLune”, I said politely introducing myself to the woman.
“This is Randall”, she introduced me to the nervous looking man in the back, “and these are the Radcliffe’s”
She pointed to a very proper looking British couple. Fierro for some reason seemed to be somewhat acquainted with Bridget and they began exchanging pleasantries. There wasn’t a lot of talking and I distracted myself by studying some of the neoclassical art on the walls. Maybe it as some sort of . . . group dining experience?
A bell rings and an underwhelmed caterer? Butler? Well, an older man in a well fitted black and white suit leads us to the formal dining room only a few steps away. He swings open the double doors and inside the dining room is underwhelming. The Persian carpet is a little moldy but the large cherry table and the sterling place settings are eye catching but tarnished.
I had an uneasy feeling and I started to wonder if I could sneak out. I hesitated as the caterer/butler/server filled my glass with more wine. I set the glass far away from myself.
“You really should stay the whole time”, Mrs. Radcliffe said, “Dessert is egg cream pudding.”
“Oh, is it—wait—how did you know I was thinking about leaving”, I said folding my dusty napkin in my lap and reaching for the glass. Mrs. Radcliffe beamed at me and the butler came back in once everyone was seated. He refilled my glass and went to the head of the table.
“Everyone”, the server said, “Your host tonight . . . Dr. Robert Essex.”
I swallowed hard on the wine as Dr. Essex walked into the room to an agreeable amount of applause from everyone except Mr. Fierro and I.
Dr. Essex was a crazy obsessive British man who’d convinced himself he could communicate with spirits, which okay I’d maybe give him that one but he was a self-proclaimed occultist, paranormal researcher, parapsychologist, spiritualist and an undiagnosed male chauvinist.
“Give me my keys”, I whispered to Fierro as Essex made his way around the table greeting his guest.
“Ms. DeLune”, he scolded me, turning to me so quickly he almost kissed me
“I’m leaving. You know I can’t stand that man. Which I guess is why you tricked me into coming.”
“I didn’t trick you”
“You lied to me. A lie of omission is still a lie.”
“Clara, I need you stay this is fo—“
I went to stand but he forcefully pulled my chair back under. The disruption had caught Essex’s attention and he skipped over the Radcliffe’s to us.
“Ah, Mr. Fierro. I’m glad you could make it.” Essex said and the men shook hands.
“When I said I needed to speak to you I hadn’t expected a dinner party.” Fierro said
“Nonsense. It’s been too long since you’ve been to my little gatherings. Oh and Ms. DeLune. Enchanted”
I shook his hand as to not cause a scene. I didn’t bother looking him in the eyes because I knew he wasn’t looking me in mine.
“I’ve been better.” I said.
“Have you met everyone? This is Bridget—
“Let me guess. The witch”, I said
“Oh, how did you know?” Bridget asked and she seem a bit bashful, “Are you a mind reader too?”
“Well, Bridget Bishop was the first woman hung during the Salem Witch Trials”, I said
“Isn’t she a smart one?” Essex said putting his hands on my shoulder, “Everyone. Clara, has the most interesting daughter why you won’t believe what the girl –“
Fierro cleared his throat and Essex let me go.
“We’re clairvoyants”, Mr. Radcliffe interrupted noting the tension. I smiled liked they told me they’d just come back from a vacation in Belize.
“And even though Randall is here now, on a good day he travels right through time.” Bridget added.
“That’s . . . um. . .”, Crazy. I thought. Right ? Right ?
“What about you?”, Bridget asked me.
I took another sip of wine.
“What do you mean?” I asked as the butler filled my glass again. I didn’t even care that there was dust in my glass.
“Tell us about yourself”, Bridget said.
I thought about it for maybe five seconds then blurted out my old dating profile that I’d had and probably need again.
“Well, I’m an underemployed professional educator and traveler who runs on coffee and classical music.”
Essex smiled at me and raised his glass to me, I smiled back out of some strange reflex.
“What about you”, Mrs. Radcliffe asked Mr. Fierro.
“Well”, Fierro considered the group and Essex’s manic smile,” I was murdered 65 years ago--”
I spit red wine out all over the table.
“Ms. DeLune”, Fierro snapped.
“Oh.My.God”, I set the wine glass down and folded my napkin, “I’m sorry. It was nice to meet all of you, but I need to go.”
I noticed the man named Randall was gone but I decided not to question it.
“Oh”, I heard Bridget say as I awkwardly walked around the table and out the door, “Did she not know?”
I made it out the dining room, making sure to close the door behind me. I made it a few steps before I heard someone behind me.
“Ms. DeLune”, I heard Mr. Fierro following me. Essex joined him and chimed in calling my name all soft and mocking. Like I was a kitten or something. By the time I got to the front door, Fierro was right on my heels and pulled me back.
“Let me go. I’ll walk to the train if I have to.” I said.
“Ms. DeLune, Essex made time in his busy schedule to see us. It was gracious of him considering I cut off our friendship at your insentience, but I needed to speak to him and if you just--”
“Then why did you bring me here ?”
He was quiet.
“Let me guess”, I continued with my arms folded, “Essex wouldn’t talk to you unless you bought me along, so he could stare at me.”
“Clara”, he took off his jacket and against my better judgement I put it on, “Will you please come back ?”
I tried really hard not to laugh, “Is it true?”
He paused
“I needed to speak to him and he wouldn’t take my call unless I agreed to bring you Clara, but you need to hear this too—“
“I can’t believe you.”
“Would you have come if I had told you?”
“No. And I can’t believe you just told a room full of”, I lowered my voice, “Crazy people about your. . . situation. Am I supposed to ignore that? I’ve never even seen you eat but you’ll just tell a room full of strangers you were murdered?”
“Clara I am doing this for us. I need you to step out from behind that haze of denial and privilege that your family joyfully clings o and accept reality. The reality that you keep trying to ignore. You must see what‘s going on and I can’t protect you from it any longer. Essex might have answers”
“Don’t you dare talk about my family?” I said raising my voice
“This has nothing to do with your family. Our house is for lack of a better word. Our house is--Well quite frankly Ms. DeLune it’s haunted”
“I don’t care.” I said without hesitating and folding my arms.
“Clara”, he said faintly.
“We can just move. You know they are building this amazing condo complex in the South Bank.”
“No. They don’t get to win this time, Clara. For some reason I think we had something to do with this. I believe we can help these Specters rest and Dr. Essex can help. Let’s not forget you are the one who spent an entire life fortune on that godforsaken place. And we certainly won’t be able to sell it now.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have bought it if you would have come with me to look at houses like you promised.”
“I was work—“
“Working? You work for yourself. You choose to be everywhere in the world except with me. This is just like when Rose was sick.”, I was more than ready to take a tone with him he wasn’t used to hearing from me.
“Clara. Are you alright?” He said quietly. Trying to get me to lower my voice.
“I’m fine.”, I said loudly, “I just can’t hold it in anymore. If you spent more than an hour at a time with me maybe I could tell you how I feel. Or here is a novel idea-- you could tell me how you feel. You could tell me how to break whatever curse you are under so you will be head over heels smitten undyingly in love me like you did Lucie. I’m tired of compromising for you when you can’t even take me on a real date. I gave up Austria, my family, my dream apartment and job for a man whose still in love with his first wife--
“Ms. DeLune you know—“
I tried to stand up straighter and folded my arms tighter. I felt a little off balance but kept going.
“And do you know how I know you are still in love with her, Addison? Because you write about it over and over again in your unending journals about your precious past life that you think I don’t see. At least I have the decency to keep my feeling about Peter inside. I mean God, you had more sex with her in one day than we ever--”
He quickly put his hand over my mouth and I was honestly kind of glad because I had no idea I was going to say next.
“I think you’ve made enough of a spectacle of yourself.” He said, “I’ve never seen a woman drink so much in twenty minutes.”
“I think you should let her keep going.” A voice came from behind us.
Fierro took his hand way from my mouth and we both turned to see Dr. Essex closing the doors to the dining room. Fierro took a breathe and found his usual calm demeanor.
“Essex. I’m sorry for the scene. I didn’t tell Clara we would be having dinner here.”
“It’s fine”, Essex said and I adjusted the jacket over me, “Every dinner party needs a fiery Italian woman to flip a table. If you want we can discuss your situation we can do it now, and you can take Ms. DeLune home.”
He opened the door to his office and Fierro stepped in. I followed but I refused to sit. I wasn’t getting comfortable. I suppose I could at least hear what he had to say.
“So”, Essex began and he turned on a voice recorder, “Tell me about the entities in your house.”
“I really think we’re overreacting”, I said looking at the old books on Essex’s shelves, “It’s nothing.”
“There is a constant chill in the house”, Mr. Fierro said, “shallow pools of water and--
“It’s an old house”, I explained. One of the jars on Essex’s shelf was empty but it felt oddly warm to the touch. Another jar appeared to be filled with black dust. Creepy.
“Have you seen full bodied entities? ” Essex begins scribbling. I turned back to his shelves. He had a jar with a single white wing and what looked like a bit of a horn?
“Not personally, but I understand there is one Specter that appears more powerful. There is nothing in the historical records about a tragedy in the old place. We don’t know who they are. There is no reason for them to be there but they seem to want something. They seemed to want to throw a party.”
“Yes, I received and invite to that party. Well that sounds like a rather hospitable entity. The party is on Friday night?”
“Yes”, Fierro said, “But there is something sinister about it.”
I picked up another jar and nearly dropped it. Inside the jar. . . Rose was staring right back at me.
“Mr. Fierro—“
“Just a moment”, he said trying in vain to pull something up on his phone
“Look”, I said and the tone of my voice caused Essex to look over. Essex stood up suddenly when he noticed what I was holding and Fierro turned to see the jar in my hand. The eyeball neatly encased in liquid turned to meet his gaze.
“Please put that down”, Essex said.
“Why do you have my daughters’ eye in a jar”, I asked Essex
He smiled and strode out from behind the desk.
“Well, dear it was donated to science after that terrible cancer she had and I was working on a project—“
“No. It wasn’t.”, I said. Essex reached over and snatched the jar from me.
“She’s such an interesting child. When Fierro wrote to me that she had lost the eye, I thought if I could have piece of her I could maybe . . . see what she sees and maybe one day we can all be just like her. I just did a few experiment. I mean she could be the next leap in the study of Parapshychology. It would have been such a waste—“
“You stole my daughter’s eye out of a biohazard bin to put on your shelf. . . like a trophy ?”
“Not personally. I had to hire someone to travel to the hospital intercept it. All on the up and up”
Fierro finally stood up and very ungentlemanly broke the Doctor’s nose. The glass jar dropped to the floor and shattered sending liquid and its contents rolling to my feet. I cupped the eye in my hand and for lack of a better place, put it in my purse and followed Fierro out.
+2+
I forgot all about the terrible warm beer when the waitress set down the basket of fried fish, I could already see the grease damping the paper and it smelled delicious and considering how hungry I was I didn’t care that I was blowing my diet.
Fierro was still looking at his hand, there was a very slight scratch on his two of his knuckles and it did look a bit swollen.
“I can’t believe you hit an old man.” I said.
“I can’t believe you’re eating after putting Rose’s eye in your purse.”
“I couldn’t just leave it there.” I said shrugging and looking at my purse, “I guess I have more of a maternal instinct than I thought.”
I picked up my fork and out of the corner of my eyes I saw one of the cuter guys from the group of men who had whistled at me when we walked into the pub was looking my way. We hadn’t exactly been dressed for the first neighborhood pub I saw on the corner, but I was starving and it would take us at least an hour to get back.
“It was bad judgement on my part to hit the man”, Fierro said finishing his water, “He is never going to help us now. The man has too much pride.”
God
“I could talk to him”, I said, “I’ll flirt with him.”
“No you will not.” He ordered.
“I mean it’s not like there is anything to get worked up about”
“Ms. DeLune you can’t be serious.”
“I just think you might be in denial about who is causing some of the unusual things. I mean have you ever actually seen a Specter ?”
“Well, I-- “
“It’s probably Rose doing things to make us leave.” I said.
“Clara, Rose is very distraught. She thinks you want a new daughter.”
I had to laugh.
“Look, as much as seeing Rose and Clarence together makes me wish Rose had as a sibling, I can’t go through what I did with raising Rose again. “
“Clara”, he said in that slightly scolding tone. He’d set a lighter and cigarettes on the table but hadn’t touched them.
“Rose just requires so much attention. She’d be jealous and you. . Don’t want any more kids, right?”
“No”, he said peering at the empty water glass, “I would have liked to hold her as a baby… I’d have wanted to been there for you.”
“Rose was a cute baby. I could just tell she was always so huffy because she couldn’t talk or understand me. Like she thought she was supposed to be born already understanding. And she was so unimpressed by baby toys. I swear when she learned to roll her eyes before she could hold her head up.”, I thought about how she used to somehow climb out her crib and crawl into my bed. How ticklish her thick curly hair was.
“Rose is a bit of an anomaly as it is”, He said.
“That’s kind of an understatement.”, I said. Are we really going to talk about this.
Fierro flicked the lighter on, considered the flame and the clicked it off.
“I always understood it that I could never have a children”, he said turning back on the lighter, “It’s why Lucie and I never did despite very reckless behavior.”
“Well, I…okay then”, I said losing my appetite. I watched while he lit a cigarette, practically daring anyone to say anything.
“It’s why Rose and her happiness means so much to me. Her childhood has been very fraught and I want to protect her from anything that might hurt her. Even if it’s her own mother.”
“Whoa. Hold on. I would never hurt Rose. I was careless in the past I’ll admit, but I can’t change the past.” I said finishing the beer. I looked at the empty glass and tried really hard not to think about my father.
“The past”, he mused as he bartender stared him down, “Well if we could change it there wouldn’t be any more Specters. That’s what they are . . . a past that hasn’t been rectified.”
“That’s very eloquent.” I said setting a fifty dollar tip on the table, “But the house is not haunted. I would have noticed. Can’t we just put this ghost nonsense behind us?”
“Never”, he said placing a hundred pound tip on the table.
+++
We rode home in silence. It was past midnight when we turned off Monet drive, once gain the gate to the main drive wouldn’t open.
“It’s broken again”, I said jamming the gate opener.
Fierro got out of the car to manually open the gate, he froze in front of the gate and walked a few steps onto the property. He became unsteady and almost fell. He picked himself up and then he started to run the half mile drive towards the house
“Fierro?” what’s wrong?” I called
I took my foot off the brake and rolled the car forward and when it was over the property line the car started to rumble. At first I thought the car was in the wrong gear but a deep low vibration rattled the car.
An Earthquake?
I got out of the car, leaving the lights on and doors open I follow him with my shoes in my hands. The closer we got to the house the more the ground starts to shake. Halfway to the paved drive the earthquake stops. By the time we make it to the front door the quake starts again and we nearly tumble into each other. The lights are blinking in and out and several unsecured piece of furniture had toppled over. The few pieces of artwork smash to the ground. Clarence is crouched down under the stairs, I go down on my hand and knees and crawl over to him
“Clarence”, I said, “Keep down, and put your hands over your neck. Follow me.”
He shook his head and we crawled underneath a very sturdy credenza table in the foyer.
“It’s okay’”, I said putting my hands over my head, “Just do this.”
Fierro had started climbed up the steps, sidestepping a hall table as it tumbled down the stairs. He made it up the stairs and I felt my brother clinging to me. I kept myself wrapped around Clarence, when the shaking stopped he sheepishly let go of me. The backup generator kicked on and a few emergency lights came on.
“I’s over”, I said, “It’s over Clarence.”
“We were just watching TV. Rose went upstairs . . . the earthquake started, she was screaming. I think something got her. ” Clarence said.
“It fine.”
“She yelled at me—“
“It’s fine”, I said, “You should have called.”
“I tried my phone went dead...”
He seemed shaken and we stayed under the piano for a little bit longer. I heard Fierro’s footsteps coming down the stairs. He reached out a hand and pulled me up from underneath the piano.
“Are you alright”, I asked.
“Yes. It’s Rose.”
+++
The generator had failed by the time I got back. It was pitch black as I pulled the Range Rover right up to the front door, and locked the doors behind me. Most of the furniture had been placed upright and with the generator out, candles provided the only light. Used my phone to navigate up stairs and went to sit in Rose’s room for a little bit, she never wanted to talk to me and now she really didn’t want to talk. She was hidden away underneath her comforter. After sitting on the edge of her bed for twenty minutes I decided I needed some sleep
My nerves were shot and I jumped when I saw Mr. Fierro lighting candles in my bedroom. I sat on the edge of my bed, now more aware than ever that I wasn’t wearing anything underneath my dress.
“How is she”, he asked blowing out a match.
“She’s fine.”
“Are you sure—“
“She’ll be 12 soon. She’s not a little girl anymore. I guess between the cancer, all the moving, and the school changes and the custody stuff I just never had the time to talk to her about. . . growing up.”
“I should talk to her—“
“I already talked to her.”
“I still-“
“She’s fine”, I said pouring the green tea I’d purchased into a wine glass, “I was her age when I got my period.”
And she was fine. Sure, Rose had yelled and screamed at me that his was “all my fault”. I’d just calmed myself down, found my keys and drove 30 mil into town to a 24 hours convince store by the airport. When I got back Rose finally let me talk to her, via the advice I found after doing a google search in the drugstore parking lot. She didn’t want to take drugs so I just sat with her until she fell asleep.
“She’s fine”, I said again to Fierro.
“The ground was shaking”, Fierro said
“It was an earthquake.”
“That just happens to coincide with Rose being upset. Now that she’s getting older maybe she’s getting stronger--
“I’m tired”, I said, “Do we have to talk about this?”
“Clara you can’t avoid this. You don’t want to talk about our daughter, or the Specters in our house. should we discuss your drinking ?”
“Get out”, I said sternly pointing to the door.
He set the book of matches down and headed out. The he stopped. He headed back and I prepared myself for a fight I wasn’t sure I knew how to have. Fierro picked up one of the candles and stood in front of my closet.
“What are you doing”, I demanded as he stepped in the closet and peered up.
“Ms. DeLune if you don’t believe this house is haunted, the perhaps you will believe the dead man in your closet
“T-t-the what ?”
Fierro turned to leave but I grabbed his arm. I took a few steps over to my closet. My beautiful beautiful customized closet. We were both silent and I heard some muffled sounds coming from the winter alcove in the loft. It sounded like someone was . . . choking. I took a tiny step closer and in the candlelight I saw a slipper. Like someone was hanging.
“Oh, God. Our house is haunted.” , I said before promptly passing out.
Author’s Note
Yes, I know Rose’s telekentic abilities growing as she enters puberty is from Carrie, but in my defense... I did not know that but I’m sure there is a trope for that.