Stars And Bars Forever
by: Doug4
PROLOGUE
Zapping through time and space Dr. Samuel Beckett's life force searched out, found and replaced the life force of his next host. Whether through fate or design, he was always ever vigilant to help out the next lost soul, which was EXACTLY what he had as a client this time around.
Reclaiming his senses, Sam saw nothing but several flashes of light darting through the darkness. In the darkness he was walking, walking, walking and then suddenly, "Wham!" His foot hit something low and hard causing him to fall down making a loud crash. At least two muffled hushes could be heard as the next flash of light turned into a flashlight that shined directly in Sam's face.
"Hey, Stony old buddy. What happened?" asked a young woman sounding genuinely concerned about Sam.
"OK. Nothing broken. Just couldn't see that," Sam started to say while feeling around in the dark. "End table. Just a little confused that's all." Sam used the table to pull himself to a standing position afraid to move from that spot.
"Hush. I'm trying to pick up some vibrations. There's definitely something in here. Motion definitely. Movement. I sense.. um.. bewilderment. Yes, no doubt about it. He's in this room. No, he just left. Darn. I don't know which way he went," said a second female voice.
"Who's been here?" asked Sam who had not moved from his safe spot.
"Stony, how hard did you hit that floor there? Why your ghost, of course!" the first woman replied cheerfully.
Sam swung around in the darkness in the direction of the last voice. "MY ghost? Oh, boooooooo."
PART ONE
In my many paths winding through the maze of lives and leaps I have come across actual or perceived otherworldly apparitions. Stumbling around a dark room the idea of my own personal haunter was very, very unsettling. My feet planted themselves in my current location and would not let me move one inch.
"Darn it," the second woman said. "Lost him entirely." She stamped her foot.
"Easy, CeCe. I got several pictures just before you lost him. If I'm right, we'll have him at least on film," yet another voice said from the far side of the room.
"And if we can find him, we can ID him and then, maybe, we can exorcise him. And Stony my friend your haunted days will be over. We'll send him packing on the first train out of town. I hope," the first voice said under her breath.
"Yea, that's all for tonight. I am exhausted," CeCe said apparently joining the other two over by Sam.
"You want to come with us? I'm starved and want to try some of that old fashioned Southern cooking. Any restaurants in town you recommend, Stony?" asked the first woman.
Sam shrugged in the darkness and claimed ignorance. "Usually eat at home myself. I think I better get back home."
"You're kidding? This IS your place," said the first woman as the lights came back on. Sam was standing the parlor of a very elegant old home somewhere in the South, he deduced by the portrait of General Robert E. Lee in full Confederate uniform over the fireplace. Lots of fuzzy blue wallpaper covered the walls and antiques were spread around the room. "You sure you're all right, Stony?" the first woman said putting her hand on his head. She was beautiful and had long dark hair. Her delicate touch had the feeling of a well-trained nurse. The one that seemed to be feeling the room for vibrations named CeCe had lighter brown hair and the most delicious blue eyes. The third one with the camera was equally beautiful. She had short dark hair and the most elegant manner and pose.
"I could use a bite myself," the third woman said.
"Interesting camera," said Sam looking at the extra large instrument.
"Infrared. Great for picking up vanishing people and lost souls as the one that passed through here. CeCe, Cyfer, pack everything up for tonight. Dinner, sleep and then I'll have the photographs for us before noon. We'll be back here tomorrow night at dusk. OK with you, Mr. Clements? You're the boss," she said smiling with a slight twinkle in her eye.
"Sure. Tomorrow," said Sam scratching the back of his head. The familiar sound of the Imaging Chamber door was very comforting in this unfamiliar and unsettling situation. In walked Al Calavicci in a formal lightning-blue tuxedo.
"Night, Stony," said CeCe waving to Sam demurely.
"Hopefully that will take care of this spook. Night," said Cyfer giving a passing wave.
"Same here. Good night, Mr. Clements," waved the third woman as she slung her camera bag over her shoulder.
Sam waved half-heartily and turned to his friend and project Observer.
"Boy, you sure have three delicious damsels there! Too bad I'm a hologram. I sure would like to join your party. Wow! Hi, Sam. Ain't this place early Scarlet O'Hara? Reminds me of the old Juniper mansion down near Montgomery," said Al twirling his cigar enjoying the female scenery.
"So does that make me Rhett Butler? What am I doing here?" asked Sam pointing down to the floor. Turning to the hall mirror Sam saw a late twenties southern gentleman dressed in a white linen suit. He had blue eyes, sandy blonde hair and a deep dimple in his chin.
"Try 'Wha am ay doa-hin har?'. He-he. OK, and to answer your kwa-SHUN, you, SUH are Mister Thomas Jackson Clements or Stony to his friends. You do remember Stonewall Jackson, Sam?" asked Al looking closely at Sam.
"Yes, yes. I get the connection. The Civil War general just like Robert T. Lee over there," said Sam pointing to the portrait over the mantelpiece.
"Jeeze! Robert E. Lee. Sam Beckett: Find his brain next to the Muenster in the dairy case next to the other Nobel Prize winning Swiss cheeses," said Al jokingly. "It's a good thing I'm around. TO CONTINUE," emphasized Al reading from his brightly colored hand link. "Stony owns this mansion called Pemberton Oaks," said Al pointing to the room with his ever-present cigar. "It's been in his family since the mid-nineteenth century. He rents rooms for visitors here in Vicksburg, Mississippi as kind of a mid-twentieth century bed and breakfast. The date is the 30th of October in 1962. The whole Civil War Centennial craze is going on right now."
"Looks pretty deserted to me," said Sam folding up his arms in disbelief.
"Like a church on Wednesday. And that's because of all these strange things that have been going on scaring the guests. Let's see. Nothing more than noises and a few things missing or flying objects. Probably just mass hysteria. These old houses are held together by nothing but creaks and groans. Old beams shifting, earth settling, wind whistling through cracks in the walls and the roof. Great ghost story fodder," scoffed Al as he went back to his hand link. Sam didn't miss the nervous glance his Observer threw over his shoulder. "If you believe in that sort of stuff, that is."
Sam suppressed a grin. From vampires to UFOs, Sam had come across a lot of strange occurrences on his leaps. They were mostly vague memories to him, but he did recall the unease of his Observer in those situations. "There's no such thing as ghosts, Al."
"Right. OK." The garish hologram turned his attention back to the handlink. "Because the mansion is empty, our friendly proprietor hired these three luscious ladies to look for the cause and stop the problem. Miss Susan, Eunice and Felicity Wells of Chicago. They, believe it or not, run a ghost-hunting agency. Wells Investigations. Nice generic name. They have had a lot of supposed success.
"Tomorrow night, which is Halloween, Eunice and Susan get killed while standing on the porch at the back of the house. The whole balcony collapses. Ziggy gives you a seventy-three percent chance that you're here to save them. Pretty routine stuff; just don't let them go out on that balcony tomorrow night. Distract them anyway you can. Run around in a sheet if you have to. Just don't let them go out there," said Al with quite a bit of gusto before going back to his stogie.
"Sounds straight forward enough," yawned Sam as he looked around for the bedrooms. "Meanwhile, I'm heading to bed."
"Good idea. Upstairs and to the right. I'll go look in on the Wells sisters and see if they are really that well," leered Al as he started to punch his hand link to center himself on the second location.
"Al! They're fine for now. I promise to stop by and look in on them in the morning. Leave them alone. Sleep tight. Now that's what's I need. Sleep," said Sam almost unintelligibly as he headed for the stairs.
"You and the McGuire sisters. You get all the breaks," mumbled Al. "I'll have Ziggy will run a check on this creepy old mansion. Jeeze. Night, Sam," waved Al as he opened up the Imaging Chamber door and disappeared from view.
"Good night, Al," Sam said to the closing door.
Vicksburg, MS
October 31, 1962
Mid-morning arrived quickly the next day for the Wells sisters who were deep into the business of their business. At least two of them were hard at work in the suite at the Holiday Inn.
"I still think he was some interest in me, Cyfer," said CeCe as she put the final touches on her immaculate nails. "Did you ever see such a little lost puppy dog expression? He is so darn cute. And the way he gets so nervous around me."
"Probably just some delayed reaction to your revelations about his spiritual guest," replied Cyfer who was busily entering figures into an oversize ledger. "Always takes them a while to come around. You don't usually find our kind of business in the linen section of Woolworth's."
"But if anyone can get his attention, it'll be me," she giggled putting the last bit of the pink on her nails.
"Hey, sisters. I think we have GOT HIM," cried Sue from the bathroom that had been converted to a darkroom.
"Him? Like is this definitely some guy?" asked Cyfer sounding intrigued as she closed up her ledger.
Sue ran in holding a wet print with a clothespin and looking very proud of herself. "Ta-da!"
The picture was a black and white infrared photograph that showed scratchy versions of the furniture and fireplace in the parlor. One very bright figure was the heat radiated by CeCe and a much cooler, though very distinct, figure stood near her. The faint figure was almost six foot tall and wore the uniform of a southern Civil War era soldier, a goatee and a saddlebag slung over his shoulder.
"Great guns! Never saw such a clear shot of one of our spirits before," said Cyfer. "Usually they're just shadowy figures! Shouldn't take any time to identify HIM!" Cyfer was very impressed by the otherworldly camera work of her older sister.
Sue shook her head. "May I remind you that we are in the middle of a major Civil War battleground? Vicksburg was under siege for months! Over 9,000 casualties occurred in the Army of Vicksburg alone."
"I know, but this is so exciting. If we could just really help Stony and then document our work, we can finally get a little recognition," said CeCe. She took the photo and carefully studied the picture and the stature of the man.
"Forget it. We'll never get off the pages of the supermarket tabloids. National Geographic is not going to be knocking on our door," quipped Cyfer. "And if we can't wrap this one up in a few days, we might as well pack it in and go back to that little electronics firm in Skokie." Keeping Wells Investigations above water was Cyfer's major job and burden.
"No, I'm not going back to the secretarial pool! At least you guys had some marketable skills. Here the work's exciting and dangerous and we have a chance to really help people out," replied CeCe looking quite determined.
"Agreed. We're sort of a supernatural Peace Corps, though the real one might be a good alternative," said Sue as she snatched the picture away from CeCe. "Not dry yet!" she told CeCe wriggling her nose a bit at her.
"She still thinks she's Albert Einstein," CeCe whispered leaning over to Cyfer.
From the bathroom Sue yelled, "I HEARD that!"
"CeCe please. Besides I think you mean Alfred Eisenstein. Let's not quarrel. We all have to stay together to keep this little comedy running for as long as we can. I mean, we seem to enjoy the work. And we all like following in our Father's footsteps," said Cyfer trying to settle her sisters down. For twenty-three years Cyfer always seemed to be in the middle.
"And we've taken it several more steps than he had just wandering through old haunted houses and writing that little column for the Midwestern Newspaper Syndicate," said CeCe toying with Cyfer's ledger.
"Stop it!" cried Cyfer playfully swatting at her sister. "Sit and stay! Remember that 'little column' kept us afloat and put the three of us through college after mom died, CeCe."
"No history lesson needed for me. Though let me remind you how dad died! Going after a story and falling into the basement in that old haunted house in Dixon, Illinois? God, I miss him!" sighed CeCe. Her voice cracked with emotion.
Cyfer put her arm around her sister. "Yea, I know. We all miss him. And we're going to have to be much more careful than he was. I don't intend on having Friendly Lunatic on my tombstone anytime soon. Each of us has a talent that contributes to our little firm and if we stick together then we'll be fine. So let's help out . . . and speak of the devil!"
"I thought you ladies were into ghosts," said Sam as he walked through their open door dressed in a typical Southern white suit and open white shirt.
"You never know with us! We try and send them on to heaven, but who knows where they actually go," said Cyfer. "Hi, Stony. What brings you to our out-of-town office?" She really appreciated the distraction after two solid hours of accounting ledgers.
"Curiosity," explained Sam as he leaned back on the old well-worn hotel dresser.
"Careful, remember what that did to the cat," CeCe purred as she cozied up to him. "Hi. How you doing ther-r-r-r-r-r-r-re, Stony? You remind me a lot of Cary Granite, Stony."
Sam smiled nervously trying to back up with no place to go. "Stony? Granite? I get you."
"So where did you get such an interesting name, Stony?" asked CeCe while she ran her finger up and down his arm.
"Yea, just an Ed Sullivan fan?" asked Cyfer who was trying not to giggle at her sister's overactive attention to their client. Mr. Sullivan had often been referred to as 'The great stone face.'
"Nope. Stonewall Jackson. My folks were very fond of Civil War generals. Stony for short, ha-ha," Sam laughed nervously as she ran her hand down his side. Sam retreated to the far corner of the room.
"I saw. I could swear the eyes in that old picture of Robert E. Lee were following me around the room. Creepy, eee-uu," said Cyfer looking a little queasy in the stomach.
"Doesn't sound like a good trait if you're chasing lost souls walking the earth," said Sam who got a little chill from the same thought.
"Just as long as it doesn't turn into Night of the Living Dead, I can handle it," replied Cyfer who still seemed to be shivering a bit herself having never gotten over her childhood fear of things that go bump in the night.
"Oh, speaking of names. How did you get yours, Cyfer?" asked Sam trying to change the subject as CeCe sat down very close to him.
"Um, oh. My name? Just a knack for mathematics or 'ciphering' as my father used to call it. Also, a dislike for the name Eunice. Cyfer fits me fine. My little extra forward sister over there is really FE-LIS-I-TEE," remarked Cyfer spelling out each syllable.
"And you know CeCe is Spanish for yes, yes!" said CeCe playing with Sam ear while he tried to scoot away.
"CECE!" yelled Sue as she exited the darkroom. "Leave our client alone! He's about to rocket into orbit. Please sit down, Mr. Clements," said Sue offering him a comfortable chair far from her sister. "I'd like to show you a couple of pictures. Do you recognize this individual? Friend, relative, legend? He appears to be the spiritualistic resident in your house."
Sam felt his jaw drop at the image. "That's amazing! Definitely circa 1860. Look at that intense stare in his eyes. Is this picture typical of your work?" asked Sam who was fascinated. This apparition was clearly a Southern gentleman of the previous century.
"I have to admit this is the best ghost picture I've ever taken." She looked at the image over his shoulder. "Kind of a cross between John Carradine and John Barrymore. We need to redouble our efforts tonight," said Sue who was the most anxious of her sisters to get back on the trail.
"That's partly what I wanted to talk to you about. Tonight really wouldn't be good to look for the dead. It's Halloween. There will be a lot of distractions and who knows what else going on. It's such a busy time of year. Why don't I take you out and really show you Vicksburg tonight?" said Sam sounding like a tour guide at the Vicksburg National Battlefield.
"Absolutely not! Sneaking around creepy old houses on All Hallow's Eve is what we live for! Just like Santa and the chimney thing on Christmas Eve. It's in our blood." Cyfer tried to sound upbeat though she personally didn't really like adding the extra Halloween ingredient to their ghost chase.
"And if things get me too scared I have you to protect me, Stony," purred CeCe looking at him with her best bedroom eyes.
Sue threw a poisoned look toward CeCe. "Mr. Clements. Are you having second thoughts? I realize there is a great deal of skepticism and debate about the soundness of our work and methods. I assure you we are quite above board and legitimate," said Sue squinting toward Sam. She was determined to solve this case and keep their private enterprise solvent.
"I don't doubt it. It's just tonight," Sam tried to explain.
Cyfer interrupted him. "Stony. We have other clients and though our results aren't always on a timetable we want to solve your case as fast as possible. We didn't really come down where to see the sights."
"Though we do like the sights we are seeing. And if you want to show me around, it's still quite early," added CeCe in a husky voice.
Cyfer found her sister's lack of attention her worst quality and her own worst enemy. "Yep. You're right about THAT CeCe. The library's open and so is the Warren County archives. You and I have some books to hit and old dusty documents to search through. So unless you want to be typing some one else's letters CeCe, I suggest…"
"Yea, yea. I'm coming." She dropped Sam's arm. "See you around, Stony," she said, waving very demurely with a sweet smile on her lips. She was determined not to let this Southern gentleman get away.
"Yea, bye," waved Sam. "Good hunting. So you're really optimistic?" asked Sam to Sue. "About solving this thing?"
"Absolutely. This image is clear enough that if we can find him in an old daguerreotype we can look into his life story, how he died and what might prompted him to continue to walk the earth," said Sue as she headed back to the bathroom with Sam close behind her. "This could be a pivotal case for us. No real academicians want to touch our work."
"Have you had any success? Any good ghost stories?" asked Sam smiling just a bit.
"Several," said Sue who was very happy to discuss their work with any interested parties. "We found six different times an apparition that needed help from this side to move on to the next world. Sometimes they just need to be convinced that their work on earth is done and that they could head for heaven. Three cases were not really ghosts. Just humans using ghosts as an excuse for their own personal gain. Twice we couldn't get rid of the ghost at all and with the help of a little Caribbean Voo Doo we vanquished them and sent them into the netherworld."
"Voo Doo?" asked Sam laughing a bit. These lovely women were constantly full of surprises.
"Mr. Clements. We have an open mind and will do whatever it takes to help our clients. Let me reassure you that there are ghosts and afterlives. We don't fool around with other parts of Voo Doo and devil worship. We only use incantations that we understand. If it helps our clients, then we will use it," said Sue in a very slow and methodic voice. She found that if she showed faith and determination when discussing their work, it would put their clients at ease.
"Well, your talents obviously cover a wide variety. I'm sure I'm in good hands," smiled Sam. Even if he didn't truly believe everything they said, he felt that there was some truth in the work they were doing.
"Great! I do appreciate the vote of confidence, Mr. Clements." Sue started to put away her photography chemicals and vats feeling much better about the obviously skeptical Mr. Clements.
"You look pretty will equipped here," said Sam perusing the makeshift photography lab.
"Oh, we try."
"You just don't seem too high tech." Sam winced when he realized his blunder.
"High tech?"
"You know. Real electronic gadgetry. Measuring electromagnetic emissions, magnetic distortions, motion sensors, ultraviolet radiation, multi-wavelength spectral analysis and the like." Sam spoke rapidly as he named equipment that may or may not exist in 1962.
Sue stared at him for a moment. "Sounds fascinating, though I don't know all what you're talking about. Sounds more like what you'd do in a laboratory try. Fieldwork is a whole different environment. We do check changes in temperature and humidity and sometimes the changes in amperage and voltage." She found this young innkeeper full of contradictions and laughed lightly.
"Well, you're the expert, I'm just shooting from the hip. I guess I'd better go," said the good doctor pointing to the door. He could tell that they would be safe for the remainder of the daylight hours.
"OK. Six tonight, all right?" asked Sue raising one eyebrow and her opinion of CeCe's latest interest.
"Great. Good-bye." Sam left realizing that he would have to save these women from their own curiosity.