“Where do I sit?” I pointed to the scooter.
“You? What about me?” Veronica asked.
He climbed back on the scooter and lowered his goggles. “You’ll have to sit on my lap. There’s no extra seat.”
Veronica and I both looked at the scooter. There was no special place for a passenger. We looked at each other. Veronica raised her eyebrows.
I had a mucho macho problem. If I went for gas, Veronica would be left all alone with the stalled car in the dark on a country road, and I’d have to sit on his lap. Not very tempting. But if Veronica went, then she would have to sit on his lap and he could take her anywhere in this dark countryside that he’d like. Too risky. What would the Professor do?
I have a plan. I smiled at the motorscooterman and said, “Hi, I’m Ralphy and this is my fiancée, Veronica.” She gave me one of her famous laser looks.
“Hi, I’m Louie, Louie Flann.”
“How are ya, Louie.”
“Good.”
“Good. Listen, me and the little woman need to discuss this situation for a minute.” I got another laser look for the “little woman” comment. We went to the passenger side of the car as he furiously pushed down the kick starter on the old motorscooter.
“Fiancée, little woman, are you crazy?” She spoke quietly and quickly—more hissing than talking—looking right at me.
“Listen,” I whispered, “if I go with him, you’re left alone in the dark in a stalled car. If you go with him, you have to sit on his lap and he could take you anywhere and say it’s the way to his place. And at his place, he could have twelve brothers dying to meet a gorgeous babe like you.”
“Now it’s babe? You’re digging a deep hole for yourself, Ralphy Diedrich.”
“Well, we’ve got to figure something out. What’ll we do?”
She put her palm on her chin and her fingers over her lips and looked into the trees. After a half a minute, she said, “How about we give him money. Tell him to bring gas back.”
“Why wouldn’t he go and never come back? Take the money and run.” I said.
“Not everybody’s like you, and, because we tell him,” she sneaked a glance over at Louie, who had stopped trying to start the scooter and was hunched over, resting after the hard pumping on the kick starter pedal, “there’s more money if he brings the gas back to us. Don’t you know anything?”
I guess I don’t. “OK, that’s good. How much should we give him, ten bucks?”
“Don’t be cheap,” she said, “give him twenty and tell him he’ll get thirty more when he returns with the gas. After all, this is a Jaguar.”
I nodded my approval and walked over to Louie who was resting with his forearms on the handlebars. “Louie, here’s what. If you go get gas, we’ll give you twenty bucks. When you get back here with the gas, we’ll give you another thirty. How does that sound?”
“Well, you don’t really have to give me anything. You’re stranded here and I just thought I could help. I wasn’t expecting to get paid or anything.” He gave a big dorky grin.
Was this guy for real? Not getting paid? Maybe I’m just a cynical city slicker. I’m not used to dealing with people who aren’t always looking out for numero uno.
“Yeah, that would be great, but you don’t have to… pay me that is,” he said while monkeying with his goggles. “But first, we’ve got to get my scooter started again.”
“What do you suggest?” I asked.
“Push me. We’ll get it moving a bit and then it’ll start.”
“You think it’ll work?”
“Yeah.”
“OK, let’s do it. Ready?”
“Wait, let me adjust my glasses.” He pulled down the goggles, moved them a little from side to side, bounced up and down on the seat a couple of times, smiled at Veronica, and turned the key. “OK, let’s go.”
I started pushing. The scooter came off of the kickstand and he aimed toward the center of the road. I was almost running behind it, we were going at a good clip, when he let out the clutch. The rear wheel squeaked and the machine almost came to a halt. I kept on pushing. It was hard. I could hear the engine turning. It was making a putt, putt, putt, sound and it was real hard to push. Then, after I was almost totally worn out, it popped a couple of times and got easier to push. I heard it starting, it sounded loud and pulled forward and I almost fell, being relieved of the pushing job. He went a few yards then hit the brakes, revved it a few times, and turned toward me.
“It’ll take about twenty or thirty minutes to get back here,” he said, continuously revving the engine while shouting at me.
I nodded and said: “Here, take this twenty and hurry back, Louie. We’re depending on you.”
He nodded, put the money in his pants pocket and headed in the direction that he came from. He roared over the small rise in the road and was gone from sight, but we could still hear that lawnmower sound, fading in the distance. A bumblebee on a mission.
“I’m going in the car. It’s cold out,” Veronica said.
“Me too.”
I was behind the wheel. We sat for a few minutes looking out the window and listening. There were things out there hooting and hollering and I couldn’t imagine what they were. Yes, it was scary. The moon snuck behind a cloud. It was completely dark.
Why not try to start it again? I turned the key all the way right and the engine turned but didn’t start. I let go of the key. I turned on the radio and searched for my jazz station. Could I get it out here?
“What are you doing?” It didn’t sound like we were friends yet.
“I’m trying to find that jazz station.” I continued my search.
“You’re wearing down the battery. It won’t start even with gas if you wear down the battery,” she said.
“All right.” I felt like I was getting dumber in her eyes. I looked at the dashboard. The gas gauge was definitely on empty. Sorry, the petrol gauge was on empty. There were several switches that I hadn’t noticed before. One had a picture of a window with wiggly lines on it, probably the rear window defroster. Another had a picture of a light bulb above it: dome light? And another had a little gas pump above it. The last one had a little a/c. I pushed them all down, in the off position, like the dome light. I didn’t want to be accused of wearing down the battery.
“Is there a blanket here? I’m cold,” she said.
I looked in the back seat and felt around on the floor back there—nothing. “I’ll check the trunk.” I reached for the key to turn the car off and saw the gas gauge. The needle was rising, very slowly rising. “Veronica, look. Look at the gas gauge.”
She leaned toward me to glance at the gauge, her shoulder brushed my arm. Boy, her hair smelled good. The needle had stopped on three quarters full. She knitted her brow. “What did you do?”
I said. “I didn’t do anything. I was going to turn off the ignition and I saw the gauge move.”
“I think the car is cursed. Someone put a curse on the car so we couldn’t go to Madame Petrovsky’s,” she said.
“Are you serious?” I asked.
She looked straight at me with her brows pushed together, lips tightly closed, dripping sincerity. “Yes. Someone put a curse on our gas line.”
“And now the curse is over?”
“I guess. I don’t know. Try to start it.” She shivered looking out the windshield.
I turned the key to engage the starter. The engine turned for a while, coughed twice and then it caught. It roared to life and sounded perfect. I blipped the gas pedal a few times just to hear the Jaguar motor roar, to confirm that we were OK. I’d fixed the car. I don’t know how but I did it. I was all smiles. Vroom, vroom.
“The curse has been lifted. Our gas line is now free of the curse,” she said.
The car was idling. What do we do now? Just sit in the idling car and wait for Louie to return with the gas? “What’s next? Should we wait for Louie to get back with the gas? It seems kind of rotten sending him out after the gas for
us and then just leaving him.”
“He’s creepy. And, what was he doing here in the first place? Was he tailing us? He could be involved with the Evil One.” She shivered again.
“Creepy? He looked like a nerd. He’s a bumpkin! And aren’t you exaggerating the scariness of this whole situation, Veronica? I mean yes, we’re alone on a dark country road, miles from anything. Even I could understand your being afraid, but it’s really not that scary. And I’m here.”
She looked at me, softening a bit. “Isn’t it strange that he appears only minutes after we broke down? And didn’t he know exactly what was wrong? How strange is that?”
I nodded in agreement, mostly to get on her good side, and looked at my watch. It was 5:50.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“5:50.”
“We can still make our six o’clock appointment with Madame Petrovsky if we hurry.”
“So we should just blow off Louie? Trying to do us a good turn and not even wanting money?”
“He took the money, didn’t he?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“And he’s so creepy. I don’t trust him. Let’s go.”
I felt like a heel, leaving before Louie returned, but he did have the twenty for three dollars’ worth of gas. Maybe we’re not so bad after all. I put it in drive, looked to my left, and pulled onto the road. We discussed the details of our plan as we rode to Madame Petrovsky’s.
“Why do we use your name, that’s so sexist, always using the man’s name!” Veronica was still on my case.
“Because I’m going to make a big show of looking through my wallet for something and she might see my ID or driver’s license, OK? Can we get back to business now? I don’t think that we’ll need that spirit that we were talking to last night. We’ll probably use one of Petrovsky’s favorites.”
“You talked to a spirit last night?” She sounded excited.
“Didn’t the Professor tell you?”
“He only said that he needed me to work tonight and no one said anything about talking to a spirit on the way home last night, if you remember,” she said.
“We would have but we were afraid to talk,”
“And rightly so. What did the spirit say?”
“It didn’t say anything. Madame Petrovsky talked in a spooky voice. She said that the spirit was there and was telling her what to say—a real ripoff.”
“How can you say that?” she asked.
“Because it was. She asked Palma to give her his sister’s favorite ring and bracelet. Maybe she’ll be expecting it from us tonight. I hope not.”
“If you believed, you would have gotten something spiritual from last night only you’re always so cynical. Your mind is always closed to new ideas, to any ideas.”
“Thanks, I love you too.” I shouldn’t have said that but she really gets to me, always on my case.
She looked out the side window and didn’t say anything else for the rest of the trip.
* * *
The place was lit like it was last night—floodlights shining on the house front. The trees that almost reached down to the top of the car hid the grey stone building from the road. The entrance was covered by a stone roof which was a balcony for the second floor. It was supported by stone columns the same size as the old trees bordering the drive. I drove slowly, fearing that a limb would scratch the roof. The drive ended with a place for turning around—a circle of crushed stones that sounded like we were driving in Rice Krispies. I stopped before reaching the front door and parked. Would the Jag start again or would we be houseguests at Madame Petrovsky’s until we’re rescued, just like in the Rocky Horror Picture Show? It was 6:05.
“My hands are dirty. Do you have any Handy-Wipes?” she asked.
“Huh?
“Forget it. Maybe the Professor has some.” Veronica reached into the glove compartment, pulling out maps and brochures and loose papers. “What’s this?” She bent over to pick up a small yellow paper from the floor. “I don’t like the Professor’s art.”
“Huh?”
“This piece, it’s amateurish and a poor subject.” She showed it to me.
“The Professor wouldn’t draw something like this.” I looked at the crudely drawn dagger with drops dripping from it. I bent over and put it back in the glove box. “Let’s go. We’re late.”
Veronica got out before I could get her door.
We crunched on the driveway side by side toward the opened front door and Madame Petrovsky’s assistant. He watched us approach, looking as he did as yesterday, same suit, same unsettling look.
His smile forewarned us of an evening of new and unknown things as he extended his arm to usher us through the door.
“We have been expecting you.”
Monica squeezed my hand.
Chapter 16
Second Séance
Madame Petrovsky was in a smaller room than where the séance was held last night. Again, it was hard to see until my eyes adjusted to the dimmed chandeliers which made more shadows than light. Veronica was now clutching my arm with both her hands. As she held me, I thought of how she looked last night. I better get that out of my mind or I’ll not be good for anything tonight.
“Yes, Madame Petrovsky,” I said as I leafed through my wallet, pretending to look for a business card. Of course, all the twenties that Palma gave me were visible to Madame, the reason for the rummaging. “I’m sorry we’re late. We had car trouble.”
“Yes, I know,” she replied.
“You knew? How did you know?”
I looked at Veronica, who gave me a look that said: “I told you that Louie was bad and put the curse on our gas line.” She’s really jumping all over me tonight. I can’t do anything right.
“Your Professor told me yesterday that you are interested in a bowl, an old bowl taken from your school. Is that right?” Madame Petrovsky asked, completely avoiding my question.
“Yes, we, the Professor, Veronica,” I moved my hand and swept in front of Veronica as a means of introduction, “and I have been asked by the school to find the bowl. It’s been a part of the school’s collection of old things since the school was started.”
She nodded. “What can you tell me about the piece?”
“The school has had the bowl since the library was built. It was found by one of our Professors on a trip to Greece. It’s about the size of a cereal bowl and is black with white figures on it. If you would like, I can email you a picture.”
“That won’t be necessary. Do you have something that is related to the bowl, a cover or a plate that it rested on?”
“No, it was by itself in a display case.”
“Then I will need the picture,” she said.
“If you have a computer online here, I can have someone at the library send it.”
“Yes, in my office. Charles can help you. Charles, will you come here?” She called and he came immediately. He was probably listening to our conversation just outside the room.
“I’ll take care of this,” Veronica said. “I’ve worked with Ms. March before and she should be there now,” She got up and left the room with Charles.
“Tell me, ah…” Madame Petrovsky asked.
“Randolph, Randolph Diedrich,” I said.
“Tell me, Mr. Diedrich, what are you studying?”
“Criminology.”
“I see. And why criminology?”
“I’d like to work in law enforcement, solve problems, and do research. And you, Madame Petrovsky, how long have you been a seer?” Let’s put the ball in her court where it belongs and maybe I can get something useful here.
She thought for a moment and said: “Too many years to remember. I have had this gift since a child.”
“How did you know that you had a gift, how could you tell?”
She looked up at the chandelier, hands folded in front of her on the table whe
re we sat. This looked like I was going to get the Hollywood version of how she broke into the spirit business. Hey, my dad was in spirits too. He owned a bar.
She gave me a patronizing look. “When I was seven, we lost our dog. He had been gone for several days when I had a dream. I dreamt that he was in the kitchen barking, and he was behind the stove. It didn’t feel like a dream it was so real. I told my father about my dream and he said that it was just a dream. I was so sure that we would find Star—that was her name, Star—behind the range that I hounded my father until he moved the stove so he could show me that the dog wasn’t there. When he moved the stove, my dad saw that the fitting on the gas line was so loose that it fell off and we could smell the gas. He said that finding that saved all our lives. A week later, Star came home. That was the first time that I knew that I had a gift.”
Humm, previous experience with gas lines. Does this relate to us directly or what?
“I knew that there were unbelievers here last night, children out playing. Tonight we will reach a spirit. That is why we are doing more things, taking our time before we start, emptying our minds of worldly cares.
“The spirits know so much, they can teach us many things. Tonight you will feel the presence of the spirits even if you can’t see or hear them.”
She was different tonight. More friendly? No, I would say more accessible. I’m able to talk to her tonight. Could it be my manly charms that caused her to open up, or was it just she had nothing better to do this evening and we looked harmless enough? Probably the latter.
Maybe there is something in this spirit stuff. Maybe she could locate the bowl for us or at least set us in the right direction.
Veronica walked into the room without Charles. “Here’s the picture, Madame Petrovsky.” It was a copy of a page from Clay’s Registry of Aegean Antiquities. A whole page was used for the pictures and its description. “It doesn’t matter if it’s not in color because the bowl is black with white figures on it. See?” Veronica said as she laid the print in front of Madame Petrovsky.
Madame studied it. “I believe that we can now start.” She got up, walked to the switch, dimmed the lights even more, and lowered the music. I expect that this will be the same sham as last night.