The Whatchamacallit

Everyone here belongs to Fox and to R.A. Dick's estate. Thanks to Mary for catching my goofs. Fits in any universe.

Immediately following Pardon My Ghost

Amanda

"Captain, you mean to tell me you've had that medieval fire screen for over a hundred years and never knew what it was?" Carolyn Muir wondered aloud. "Was it a gift from someone you didn't want to offend by saying - 'er - what IS that thing?' to?"

Fingering one ear, the seaman's spirit looked rather abashed for a moment. "No, Madam, it was not a gift. It was an - acquisition." He straightened his cuffs, shifting his attention away from her probing gaze.

"Hmm. That, as well as the rest of the antiques; not to mention my lovely scrimshaw, and beautiful shawl, and the James Gatley barometer brings to mind something I've half thought about asking you for some time, but just never got around to," the lovely widow plowed ahead.

With a long suffering expression, Captain Gregg returned his focus to Carolyn. "Do I want to know what that might be?"

"Nothing too personal, I don't believe," she grinned. "Though, it could be, perhaps. How did you manage to keep so many lovely, valuable things from Claymore's ancestors? And, if you could keep those, why NOT the Georgian tea service and other things you've raged about losing?"

Daniel pondered for a few moments, debating how to answer. "Your query does almost venture into the personal territory, but not terribly so. Therefore, I believe I shall reply fully."

"I can hardly wait," Carolyn leaned back in her chair.

"It takes some adjustment to get used to being dead."

"I can see where it might," Mrs. Muir nodded. Then, seeing his look of reproach, she drew a finger past her lips, zipping them shut.

"Therefore, when those faux Greggs showed up to plunder, I had little choice but to allow them to take away certain objects that were of obvious worth. Keep in mind, the scrimshaw was still worth little more than a dollar in that day, and the shawl was not worth much either. I am still amazed at the price that ivory piece has accrued." He paused to shake his head in wonder. "The same can be said of various other items that remained in Gull Cottage. Age and rarity have added to their perceived value, as well as to my control over my powers." He smiled, recalling the thrill of sending landlubber pirates packing for the first time. "Very few people have managed to stay here long, over the years, dear lady. Some left rather hastily, not always taking everything with them. A great deal of it has not merited retaining, but some has."

"So, the fire screen was abandoned?"

"No. When I lived, I had a fondness for diving. Such things as likes and dislikes do not die with the flesh. I dare say they may become more acute."

Carolyn wondered if he was going off on a tangent, but kept that to herself.

"It occurred to me some sixty years ago that I could still go diving, only now I would not be limited by the need for oxygen or hampered by the pressures of the deep sea. There are some sunken ships several miles off the coast. I made more than a few discoveries while exploring them. The Medieval whatchamacallit is one of the first. The very first, actually."

"That's why you kept it," Carolyn essayed.

"That, and I did want to find out what the deuce it was," he grinned with a wink.