"So there's no chance someone might walk in there and swipe anything?" I persisted.
He chuckled. "There's nothing worth swiping, but on this night those who would do mischief are in the streets in ghoulish costume asking for candy."
We hefted Roland around the side of the church and to a small cottage behind the imposing building. The interior was small with an open floor plan that connected the kitchen, living room, and dining room. The back wall had two doors that led into the bedroom and bathroom. A few religious paraphernalia lined the walls such as crosses and quotes from scriptures.
The living room was outfitted with old but comfortable furniture centered near a large brick fireplace. We hefted Roland onto the bouncy couch and I plopped myself on the coffee table in front of him.
"I'm afraid the strongest drink I have is cocoa, but you're welcome to it," Father Malone informed me.
"That sounds great," I replied.
He walked over to the kitchen, and I turned my attention to Roland. I leaned forward and grasped one of his hands in mine. He was cold to the touch, but then, he was always cold to the touch. Like a dead fish taken out of a freezer.
"I'm so sorry, Roland," I whispered. "I shouldn't have let you tuck me under your arm like a football. I guess. . .I guess I was scared." I shrugged. "Yeah, I know. We've been through vampires, not-vampires, and were-sheep, and now I'm scared." I paused and my eyes flickered to the kitchen. The priest's back was turned. I leaned down so that my lips nearly touched Roland's pale pair. "Whatever you're in, please snap out of it. I. . .I don't know what I'd do without you getting me into trouble." I snorted. "Live a boring, normal life without fear of death and undeath."
"Would you like marshmallows?" Father Malone called from the kitchen.
I shot up and coughed. "Sure. I feel like living dangerously." He dropped a few of the soft puffs into a mug of cocoa and turned to me. I studied the father's short stature and frowned. "So strange weather we had tonight with that fog, huh?"
Father Malone returned with a steaming mug of cocoa which he handed me. "Quite strange," he agreed
I stirred the spoon, but my eyes were on the father as he took a seat close beside the foot of the couch. "It kind of looked like you made it go away," I commented.
He smiled and gestured to my mug. "The cocoa's my own recipe. I hope you like it," he told me.
I took a sip and smiled. "This is so good it's almost sinful," I teased.
"I pray daily for my waistline," he returned.
We were quiet for a while. The only sound was my stirring my cocoa. Father Malone leaned back in his chair and studied me for so long that I squirmed under his gaze.
"What? Is there something on my face?" I wondered.
"You care for him a great deal, don't you?" he asked me.
I blushed and shook my head. "It's not that. It's-"
"You needn't lie to me, my child. I'll consider it a confession. The truth will go to my grave, if that's what you wish," he assured me with a wink.
I snorted. "I'm starting to believe nobody stays in those things."
"They are only places of grief, and no soul truly wants to remain in their grave for all eternity," he countered.
"I thought someone was supposed to blow a horn or something," I mused.
"Gabriel, but I would prefer to wait for his call in a more comfortable spot," Father Malone commented. He gestured to Roland. "But we stray away from the subject I wish to speak about, and I think you need to talk about. He's very dear to you, isn't it?"
My shoulders drooped and I looked over Roland. "He's-well, he's a pretty nice guy."
"Is that all?" he persisted.
"And he's cute."
"Is there nothing more?"
I frowned at him. "You're not going to leave me alone until I admit I like him, are you?"
"Until you admit you care for him a great deal," he corrected me. "Don't try to hide it. Your eyes tell me what your lips refuse to admit. They are a window into your soul that cannot lie."
I glanced down at Roland. "Maybe you don't need a window to know they have a good soul."
Father Malone furrowed his brow. "You seem very troubled, my child. Won't you-" A groan from Roland interrupted the man's request.
Roland's eyes fluttered open. He blinked at me a few times before I came into focus, and then a smile slipped onto his lips.
"Good evening," he greeted me.
"I thought you were going to sleep through the night, too," I teased. Roland tried to sit up, but I pushed him back down on the couch. "I think you should take a break for a while. It's not everybody a normal human like you gets that scared," I loudly commented. My eyes flicked to Father Malone.
Roland gave a slight nod and lay back down. Father Malone stood and moved to stand beside me. Roland winced and turned away from him. I noticed the problem that dangled from Father Malone's neck. The cross.
"Could you put the cross away? Jewish and all," I reminded him.
Father Malone bowed his head. "Of course." He pocketed the cross and took a seat on the couch beside Roland. The father took a hold of Roland's wrist and frowned. "Your pulse is very weak. I can't feel a thing," he commented. "Whatever gave you a shock must have been quite bad."
"Let's just say that mist you made go away was had a little spirit to it," I quipped.
Father Malone set Roland's arm on the couch and raised an eyebrow. "It sounds like you have a problem that may fall under my expertise."
"I don't think you'd quite believe it," I warned him.
"To paraphrase Shakespeare, there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy," he countered.
"Meaning?" I returned.
He moved back to his chair and clasped his hands together with his elbows on his knees. A smile graced his lips as he gazed between Roland and me. "Try me."
CHAPTER 6
I glanced at Roland. He gave a nod, and I sighed.
"We were being chased by a ghost," I revealed.
The priest leaned back and furrowed his brow. "I know this is Halloween, but you don't mean this to be a trick, do you?"
"Or a treat," I added. "We really were being chased by a ghost."
"Then it was a spirit not chained to a specific point on earth?" he asked us.
"The only chains were the ones she was wanting to wrap around our necks," I quipped.
"For what reason does she haunt you? Did you know her in life?" he asked us.
"Only the stories about her. She's Lady Violet," I told him.
The priest frowned. "I know the stories, but Lady Violet has never been known to leave the highway nor harass anyone."
"She's taken up a different occupation, and a different haunt. Us," I returned.
"This is most serious. An evil spirit is not a small trifle," he commented.
I studied the old priest. "So you really believe us?"
Father Malone smiled and gave a nod. "I do, and I'm also open to the idea of aliens."
I snorted. "Fortunately the only ones around here are three feet tall and asking for candy right now."
The father chuckled. "Yes, but what do you intend to do? Has she made demands of you?"
"We need to reach the library and find out what we can of the ghost," Roland spoke up. "Is there any way you could drive us to the library?"
The man shook his head. "I wish I could offer you such assistance, but I don't own a car."
I glanced at Roland. "You think our supernatural stalker will leave when the sun comes up?"
"Ghosts are normally called to the otherworld by the sun, but the ghost that follows us is no longer a mere specter," he pointed out as his eyes flickered to the box in my hands.
The priest raised an eyebrow. "The spirit that follows you sounds very unusual."
"Let's just say it's a little more soul-er powered than the usual spirit," I told him. I turned to Roland. "So do we wait here or take our chances that she might trip over her dress?"
The pri
est leaned back and rubbed his chin. A smile slowly spread across his lips. "I may be able to help you there."
Father Malone stood and walked over to his bookcase. He pulled out a book and opened the pages to the center. I noticed the book was gutted to create a small hiding hole. He removed two vials from the pages and handed them to me.
I held the vials up in each hand. One had specks of white, and the other had a thick, blue liquid inside. "Holy water and ashes of a saint?" I guessed.
He turned the cover so I could read the title. 'Hidden Helpings.'
"Blackberry syrup and salt," he told me. He put the book back and chuckled. "I must admit that was my secret emergency rations for when the matrons of the church demand I go on a diet, but I believe you two need it more than I."
"An interesting choice," Roland spoke up.
The priest took his seat and bowed his head. "I thank you for the compliment. It's rather an archaic method, but under these unusual circumstances it may be the most effective."
"Guys? Could you include me in on the reason why I was handed a small jar of blackberry juice?" I asked them.
"The blackberry plant and its fruit is a strong deterrent against spirits, and salt purifies almost as effectively as fire, but with less mess," the priest explained.
"So do we douse ourselves with these?" I guessed.
"We would do better to cover the spirit in the juice, but the salt might be used to surround us in a barrer," Roland told me. "That may bide us the time we need to escape to the library and find out what we can of her situation."
I glanced between the vials in my hand and Roland. "These don't happen to be effective against vampires, do they?"
"The salt can act as a barrier, but the blackberry syrup is more effective against spirits," Roland told me.
Father Malone raised an eyebrow. "Are there other burdens you wish to relieve from your shoulders?"
I stood and pocketed the vials. "Only if you want to hear about non-vampires and were-sheep."
A smile slid onto his lips. "That sounds quite interesting, but I'm keeping you from your efforts to rid yourself of an evil spirit."
Roland sat up and looked around. His eyes widened and he looked to me. "Where is the box?"
"It's in the church," I told him.
"Was something left behind?" the father asked us.
"Yeah, but we can get it," I assured him.
He stood and shook his head. "Allow me. The ghost has no grudge with me."
"No, but she-well, she's really interested in this box," I admitted.
Father Malone paused and looked between us. "I see. That is what she seeks."
"Yeah, but we can get it," I insisted.
He shook his head. "No, please allow me. It's the least I can do for you in this strange battle you fight."
I couldn't stop him before he walked to the door and opened the entrance. The mist stood just outside the door.
"Wait!" Roland shouted. "Your cross!"
I remembered too late that Father Malone had stuffed his cross necklace into his pocket. A tendril of mist flicked out and wrapped itself around him. Father Malone was pulled into the depths of the white evil. Roland tried to stand, but I pushed him back onto the couch.
"I'm not losing two guys!" I snapped at him.
"We cannot risk that she will take a bound soul!" he argued.
I reached into my nun outfit and pulled out the fake cross. The other necklace, the one Frank left, came with it. "Then I'm about to become a believer."
I rushed around the couch and dove through the door. The mist didn't part like it had for Father Malone's cross, and I found myself in a white void. There was nothing but blank white around me, and I couldn't hear anything but the sound of my own heart as it danced the tango. I reached out my hands and felt the air in front of me as I took a few hesitant steps forward.
"Father Malone?" I called. "Violet? Come on, I'm right here. Nice, juicy, and defenseless."
I started back when Lady Violet made her astral appearance in front of me. This time I could see her whole body, and beside her was Father Malone. The tendril was still wrapped around his arms and one was slapped over his mouth. He twisted in its grasp, but couldn't free himself. The spirit glared at me.
"I am not some monster who eats flesh," she snapped at me.
"Could've fooled me," I quipped.
Her eyes narrowed and a long, misty tendril whipped out from the whiteness. It slipped around me and pinned my arms to my sides. I winced and squirmed, but the bonds only tightened. Lady Violet floated over to me and grabbed the cross around my neck. She shook it in my face.
"You believe such a thing would deter me? You have no faith in God," she mocked me.
"But I have faith in her," a voice spoke up.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Roland step out of the void. He clutched his chest and stumbled more than walked. His face was as white as the mist and he had a constant grimace on his face. Lady Violet dropped the cross and smiled at him.
"And I have faith that you need to get your ass back inside!" I yelled at him.
Roland straightened and shook his head. "I won't leave you. Ever."
Lady Violet sneered at him. "That is not your choice."
A tendril of mist snapped out to bind him like us. Roland stepped to the side out of its reach and sprinted forward. More tendrils flew around him, but he dove, ducked, and dodged them all. He slid to a stop in front of the ghostly form of Lady Violet and swiped his hand across her face. Her features were distorted like ripples in a pond, but they quickly reassembled themselves. She reached out with her hand and grabbed his throat. Roland was lifted a foot off the ground as she snarled into his face.
"I will have your soul, vile creature, and I will live again!" she insisted.
I watched as her fingers tightened on his throat. He squirmed and gasped in her hold.
"No!" I shouted.
A blinding light erupted around me and spread across the ground. Lady Violet snapped her head to me and her eyes widened. She let out a banshee wail as the light engulfed her and her mist. The bonds that held us disappeared and the mist was swept down the hill to the far reaches of the park. I looked around and saw Roland face-down on the ground.
"Roland!" I yelled.
I raced up to him and turned him over. His eyes flickered open and smiled up at me.
"Like the sun," he whispered.
I shrugged. "Yeah, but how'd I do that?"
"Love is a very powerful thing," Father Malone spoke up as he walked up to us. He pulled out his cross and draped it over his neck. "My apologies to your religion, my friend, but I believe this is necessary."
"We must hurry," Roland spoke up.
"Why? She's dead. Permanently, I hope," I told him.
He sat up and shook his head. "Things are not as they should be." His trembling hand pressed against his chest, and I realized his strength was still gone.
"To the library?" I asked him.
He nodded. "To the library."
"Then let me fetch your box and you can be on your way," Father Malone offered.
The father hurried away to the church, and I helped Roland on his feet. He was unsteady, but could still sprint as fast as me.
"So what exactly happened with that light?" I wondered. "I'd say it was your box, but it's kind of AWOL right now."
Roland shook his head. "I don't understand it myself, but-" he turned to me and his eyes softened, "-I can't thank you enough for what you did."
I shrugged. "All in a night's work for Misty, Diner Waitress and Exorcist."
"I believe this is it," Father Malone spoke up as he hurried back to us. In his hands was the soul box. There was a soft glow under its lid. We were probably lucky half the energy was gone or we'd be dealing with half a priest. He handed the box to me. "I wish you both luck in your endeavors, present and future."
"If we live past this one," I commented.
Father Malone smiled and winked. "I think spirit and
other things of God's creation will get you through."
"And on that note, it's time to leave. We've got a couple of blocks to walk," I returned.
I spun Roland around and marched him down the hill.
CHAPTER 7
"Other of God's creations?" Roland asked me as we reached the edge of the park.
"You know how these priests are. They have to insert God into everything," I quipped.
We stepped onto the streets and normalcy invaded our normal world. Something short and white flew past us followed by another creature that looked like a goblin or a really ugly woman.
"Jeremy, get back here!" shouted the goblin.
"Come on, Mom, or we'll miss the best treats!" the short ghost shouted over his shoulder.
"Jeremy!" the goblin yelled.
The pair disappeared down the street. In the distance a few blocks away came the sounds of music, and lights lit up the sky.
"Is that the Halloween celebration?" Roland asked me.
My stomach grumbled, and I sighed and nodded. "Yeah, and our chance at dinner and a treat."
"Then let me give you a treat," a voice spoke up.
We turned to our left and our eyes fell on the wet-rag figure of David Ginsleh. He pointed the barrel of his dry, clean gun at us and looked into the scope. "Now you both-"
"Watch out!" I yelled as I pointed behind him.
"I won't fall for-ah!" A herd of ravenous costumed children raced around and through him. Several of them knocked into Ginsleh, and his knees buckled.
"I tried to warn you," I quipped as I grabbed Roland's hand and pulled us away.
We were halfway down the block before I looked over my shoulder. Ginsleh had a group of mothers around him and they all appeared to be apologizing for the behavior of their little monsters. He couldn't escape their little circle of sincerity, and that gave Roland and me a long head-start.
We raced down the streets and wound our way through an alley until we hit Main Street in all its Halloween glory. The downtown of my small hometown had rows of shops on either side of the main street. They were all decked out in terrifying things that related to their business. The sewing shop had sticky cobwebs over their door. The grocery store hung fake slabs of meat outside their windows. The worst was the accountant's office. They had a suit-wearing dummy outside with an IRS badge on its jacket.
People streamed up and down the street attired in frights, cuteness, and everything in-between. Spooky music played over speakers set up above the open shop doors and business owners and citizens alike passed out candy by the pound.