In the mirror world

Chapter 18

Overhead, swooping and diving, a seagull screeched an impassioned plea to a small crew of an early morning fishing boat sorting and gutting their latest bounty. Watching from the shore, Candy found herself oddly engaged with the scene and it reminded her of times when she and Jonathan would toss peanuts to the elephants at the zoo. Those were uncomplicated days when family life flowed seamlessly together like the fingers of rivers emptying into the sea. Even though her dad was in all aspects a 'ghost', his love for them reached beyond reason and redefined the word family into something they could all embrace with great affection. Everything was well until the day their previous world exercised its right to self-annihilation. Now, in this new world, their lives were finally coming back together into what could be seen as the making of a new family with familiar faces. However, with the recent disappearance of their mother, Candy could see the tapestry of this new family unraveling the threads of its delicate weaving.

Presently, this morning, the weight of her decision to run away from their keepers pressed heavier on her shoulders that were sagging in agreement.

The night had been colder than she had anticipated. When the firewood became depleted, so did the fire and by 2 in the morning, both she and Jonathan shivered in their sleeping bags. It would not do well to sleep outdoors again tonight, so Candy was formulating a new plan to prepare for the evening ahead.

Without the convenience of a mirror, she combed her hair and instructed her brother to do the same. Looks were not important to Jonathan, yet, so he yawned and hurried through his grooming, not giving any attention to the cowlick that unfailingly stuck out from his hair.

Collecting more driftwood, they made a fire and sat sullenly on its edges eating more pop tarts.

"Hey," Jonathan said while pulling an object from his pockets. "Look what I found." He turned the burnished piece in his fingers then offered it to his sister. "It's sea glass."

Squinting, Candy examined it closer and shook her head. "It's from a beer bottle. Those don't count."

"Yes, they do!" he shot back in an angry tone.

She shook her head more insistently this time. "Maybe wine bottle pieces count, but not beer bottles. There's too many of them." She stood and brushed sand from her pants and coat. "Besides, we need to pack up and get out of here. They'll probably be looking for us pretty soon."

Not deterred, Jonathan frowned and shoving the piece back into his pocket he said, "Yeah, whatever."

They sloshed seawater into cups from a trash can and poured them on the fire that hissed its last dying breath at them.

Looking down to the dangling thread of where a button once protruded from his coat, Jonathan fingered his pockets for the lost object. "Where are we going, sis?" He asked.

Her face moved from the watery sherbet-colored horizon back to where the town lay just over a sandy dune. "We'll get a map and walk to another town."

Shuffling through the sand, they scaled the small dune and arrived at the top. Candy stiffened. It wasn't until then that she realized an additional error in her plan. Across the road, they spied yellow buses spilling out of a parking lot and onto the frost-lined road. Eyes wide, she muttered one word. "School…" Jonathan's eyes flew open wide, too. "We're supposed to be in school!" he blurted out.

—-

In New York, the sun rose gradually and flooded through the long balcony windows of a high-rise apartment casting shadows and shafts of long, pale light among the candlesticks adorning a modern dining table in an adjoining room.

Carolyn lay in the bed and watched the scene unfold with blood-shot eyes and a parched, tacky mouth. She punched the pillow one more time, then gazed at the empty champagne bottle resting on the nightstand. Reality clung to her like the ugly hangover that fogged her pounding head. She was the newly wed Mrs. Carolyn Thompson. The thought sickened her stomach and twice she almost vomited.

Blair had risen from the bed earlier and was fumbling in the kitchen while whistling a little ditty from a commercial but kept getting the last note wrong, she noticed. That was just like Blair. Try as he may, the man always seemed to do well until the bottom would ultimately fall through. He could never quite get things 100% correct. This forced marriage would be the most recent to add to his list of trying hard but always falling short of the target.

Still in bed and with both hands, Carolyn pulled the covers up over her head. Every person, she thought, had an image or memory that they held secret while treading the dark days that try men's souls. One that they unwrapped, like a piece of hidden candy. For Carolyn, that image was the ghost of a man whose name was Daniel Gregg. A man unlike any she had ever known. A unique ethereal mix of handsome bravery, virility, strength, and pride doused in the tenderest of love for her and her two children. At times, over-bearing, he could smother her, and often did, with his strong male prowess that was still firmly anchored to his life in the 19th century. With patience, quiet guidance, and a helpful glass of Madeira… or rum, Carolyn could steer his vessel into the 20th century to a familiar island known as compromise.

His voice cheerful as a red robin on a spring morning, Blair glided into the bedroom carrying a breakfast tray in his hands.

"Heads up, sunshine," he said. "I have something for that hangover I know you have. Plop, plop. Fizz, fizz!"

Carolyn opened her eyes, peered over the blanket, and asked, "Have you, now?"

"Yes, I do. I also have some scrambled eggs if your stomach is a little upset."

"Thank you," she murmured.

Thompson, in his pajamas and robe, sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, and Carolyn thought that he may have been blushing.

"I… I want to thank you for last night, Carolyn. Its… its been a long time since… well… you know what I mean."

She didn't answer and only blinked her green eyes.

"Let me get you some coffee," Blair said as he dipped his chin then left the room.

—

The shouts and the dull clangs of metal on bone no longer drowned his hearing. On all four muscled legs, the creature stood before Captain Gregg, snarling. Five-inch fangs dripped with an acidic mucus and shredding teeth lined up in rows behind. The beast raised a bone and stone skull above a heaving massive rib cage that stank of rotting meat. Loosely wrapping the torso was a series of long twisted barbs running along razor-sharp wire alive with flames. Three times larger than the demon dogs, this creature could likely take down a horse.

A jackeldone, Daniel thought. It has to be! Now and then Captain Gregg had heard the name whispered in certain inner military circles but had never encountered one before personally, not even after his death. It was said to be part bone, part rock, and part dead flesh with a dying wish only to please its master. Now the beast was crouched in front of him preparing to take a leap and the seaman was leaning on his mount's thick neck in a vulnerable position.

The jackeldone sprang to flight, teeth-baring, and claws extended. There was no time to angle his cutlass frontward into a thrust, so Daniel brought his forearm up to block the worst of the attack and dealt a glancing blow to the beast's head. His sword hit the stoney place of the animal's skull and he felt the reverberation down to his hand. The creature landed on its feet and leaped into another frontal attack. Releasing the reins from his free hand, Captain Gregg lunged his open fist at its throat and latched on. Both fell to the ground, but Daniel kept his grip. The jackeldone was on top of him, pinning him down, but with his knees up and elbow locked, the seaman held the gaping jaws at bay. It scratched and pawed at his chest, leaving rips in his sweater and gray bloodless gashes underneath.

The belly is always soft, he told himself. Always!

He erected his cutlass and plunged the blade into its soft underbelly, then twisted it around and plunged a second time even deeper than the first. It snarled and yipped before becoming limp on his chest. After heaving the animal off, Daniel rolled over and stood on unsteady feet. Had it been over a century since he had engaged in such a deadly fight like this? For the first time as a spirit, he felt genuinely spent.

"And this is why," Edmond stressed with a taut smile, "It can take some time to receive an answer to prayer."

—

On a bright sunny day, the first idea that comes to mind may be to have a picnic or something similar. Indeed the day was bright and the sun was shining, but a picnic this was not, no matter how much it may have looked like one.

In the backyard of a vacant house on a dead-end road, Candy and Jonathan sat together at an old, warped picnic table eating their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on stale bread. No refrigeration was needed, and that made the sandwiches ideal for the sake of travel. Jonathan had stuffed a bag of potato chips into his sleeping bag and now after pulling them out, he came to the realization that most of the chips had been crushed by the four cans of soda, so that put a further damper on the meal.

Barely 50 degrees outside, the two had spotted the 'For Sale' at the end of the short road and trampled through knee-high grass to find the dilapidated table in the back yard where they were eating. The pair had never skipped school before and decided to stay out of sight for much of day being fearful that a truant officer must surely be close-by or perhaps even watching them at this very moment. That thought alone made Jonathan nervous and he repeatedly kicked one of the table legs, which in turn made Candy annoyed.

"Jonathan!" she spat, her voice full of prickles. "Stop it! I'm trying to think."

"Oh yeah? About what?" he asked sardonically and kicked the table with more aggression. "Your stupid plan isn't working, Candy."

She shoved more chips into her mouth and took a swig of pop.

"I'm making a new plan, so just be quiet. I have an idea."

Candy's eyes twinkled with a newfound light. Her smile grew wider and smears of peanut butter shown on the curl of her lips.

"Do you remember that Kmart we passed on the way here?"

"Yeah," Jonathan said. "What about it?"

She sat up straight and said, "That's where we're sleeping tonight."

—

There it is, Carolyn thought to herself, stepping out onto the sun-lit terrace of Blair's apartment. The rhythm of New York. She eased the grunting sliding glass door shut, quieted her steps, and listened again. An endless serenade of car horns, sirens, and angry shouts were heard not too far in the distance. Her muscles tensed. She yearned for the soothing sounds of the ocean waves rolling over Gull Cottage's sandy beach. She dearly missed her sea captain. Every smile, every knowing glance he had given her, every kiss that touched his lips to hers replayed over and over in her mind's eye.

"Where are you, Daniel?" she spoke under her breath.

Another week had slipped passed Carolyn like the shadows that slip away from the corner of your eye when you turn to look and nothing is there. Time became elusive as one day blended into the next. A cool breeze whistled through the air, ruffling the curled edges of her hair. Closing her eyes, she brought the cup of coffee to her nose and breathed in its heady aroma. A solitary pigeon walked the terrace ledge, bobbed its head, and pecked at the breadcrumbs that she had left earlier.

"Blair said today," Carolyn reminded herself. "Today I will get my children back.

The grunt of the sliding glass door returned. She turned to see Blair. His chin hung down and his Adam's apple bobbed with every moistureless swallow. His eyes were hooded and dark with something she didn't recognize but felt a sudden chill in her stomach. Carolyn took a step closer.

"The kids," Blair said, trying his best to avoid her eyes, "are gone, Carolyn. They ran away and no one has seen them."

—

The fighting had been fierce. No quarter asked and none was given. Angels bowed their heads in thanksgiving. Demons lay in piles, some still snarling their last while others were still and silent as the graves they occupied.

Captain Gregg wiped his sword, slammed it into the sheath, then stroked the mane of his steed.

"Good boy, Storm. It is time we leave this hell hole."

Edmond smoothed back what little hair he had, patted the alabaster flask with his hand, and nodded to an Angel who rent an opening for the two spirits to pass through. Once they arrived back into the human physical realm, all evidence of any injuries suffered, peacefully disappeared from their spirit bodies and all was as it had been before.

Night swelled over the land in rich hues of ebony. Hungry coyotes howled their cries in anticipation of the nightly hunt and owls hooted to each other from the tops of swaying tree branches. In the meadow, lit candles dotted wavy glass windows sills inside of Edmond's little country church and the great door of entry squeaked open upon their arrival. Timid field mice scurried back to the hidden recesses within the cracked brittle walls and decaying wood floors of the ancient chapel where their beady glowing eyes watched with curiosity.

Inside, a match ignited on its own. The flame traveled from candle to candle, chasing away the darkness, and gradually the light dominated over the night.

Edmond removed the alabaster flask from his sash and placed it on the dusty but meticulously ordered altar at the front of the sanctuary.

Created by the candlelight, shadows danced with merriment over the features of Captain Gregg, accentuating the magnificence of his roman nose, prominent bearded chin, and the calm authority in his mysterious blue eyes. He picked up the flask and on closer examination, he calmly asked the cleric, "What is the next step, Edmond?"

After a moment in deep thought, the pastor edged closer, removed the flask, and placed it back on the altar. "We wait, son."

Indignant, Daniel responded, "Wait!? What on earth for!?" His hands clenched open and closed. A word of profanity hung on his lips but then died.

Edmond was stifling a chuckle and snorted. "Captain, it is 3 AM. Do you wish to wake the woman from a sound sleep? For the task ahead, she will need strength. She and her children are unharmed. I suggest that we wait until morning."

Restrained, but clearly annoyed Daniel said, "Very well. I will see my daughter and return in the morning."

Unceremoniously, Edmond replied, "We'll proceed when you arrive back, then." Pausing, he added, "Be a good fellow, Daniel, and bring me a bag of potato chips when you return."

—-

Evening was beginning to sweep over the horizon with elongating shadows and shade that grew with each passing minute until all became swallowed into the fullness of night.

It was near the end of the day that Candy and Jonathan made their way into a local Kmart and pursued a predetermined plan to hopefully be overlooked when tired employees cast their thoughts into the ocean of after-work activities and the night ahead.

In the store's bathrooms, they turned off the lights and stood silently on top of the commode seats. The manager dipped his head into the dark restroom and decided that no one was in there, for certainly if someone was, the lights would have been on.

After a time, Candy jumped down, turned her flashlight on, and retrieved her brother. Hungry and tired, they made their way through the store and picked up various food items which included making two submarine sandwiches from a refrigerated unit that an employee would sell to hungry customers. Much to Jonathan's delight, they discovered that the frozen coke machine was operational and helped themselves to 2 cups each.

Candy found a pad of paper and a pencil. As Jonathan watched TV in the employee's lounge, she made of record of the items that they had purloined in case her mother wanted to make restitution once they were reunited. In the lounge was a sofa that they shared when the night grew long and sleep fell heavy on their lids.

In the morning, the pair did the same process, but in reverse. Utilizing the available facilities and store washcloths, they cleaned up as best as they could and before they left the store tagging behind a family, Candy said to her brother, "Did you put clean underwear on, Jonathan?"

He was not happy.

—

Without waking the household, Captain Gregg appeared in the bedroom where his young daughter from his late wife lay asleep in the crib. Gently, he picked her up the blanket and all, sat in the rocking chair and laid her on his chest.

When Carolyn and her children had vanished, Martha volunteered to stay on at Gull Cottage while Daniel searched for the missing family. Martha's unwavering loyalty and steadfastness continued to amaze him and he could not come close to fathoming what he would do without this stalwart housekeeper who stayed quietly in the background and kept everyday life humming along seamlessly. She was an extraordinary woman in her own right.

With any luck, Captain Gregg hoped to locate Carolyn and her children, and bring them home with utmost expediency. As for this Blair Thompson fellow, Daniel could only imagine why the man had abducted her, but would certainly give him good reason to relinquish his claim on his beloved.

An antique clock in the room chimed the beginning of the new hour. Captain Gregg lightly padded Ailwen's back and his mind drifted away to the evening before Carolyn disappeared. The attic, the wine, and the tenderness of touching and being touched both physically and emotionally intoxicated him afresh. Daniel's intentions were to marry her as soon as she would have him. A wedding on the spirit plane first where they could truly begin the bonding process and then follow up with a second wedding on the human plane, one in which Carolyn could do anything that pleased her.

He was the ghost, but it was Carolyn who haunted his days and nights. In the remnants of this dark morning just before dawn, he pondered their reunion and grieved that they would not share touch until they could be properly wed.

Captain Gregg wrapped strong arms closer around his little girl. He had been relieved to find out that he was able to hold his daughter and surmised that it must be the fact that she came from him, that he was able to touch her at all. Was she half ghost? Was she starting to show hints of ghostly powers? He planted a tender kiss on her hair and rose to his feet. Dawn was breaking and his desire was to observe at the balcony doors. Shoulders back and his chin held high, Daniel's heart lifted in silent song with the rising sun. This day was full of promise for him and for his daughter. The start of a new family was in his reach and he could see nothing that would stop him.

—

Carolyn awoke early with a plan circling around in her mind like a revolving door in constant use. Over and over, she rehearsed it. Pursing her lips, she went over it for a final time.

When Blair informed Carolyn that her children were missing, she was close to giving him another bruised eye, but that would attract unwanted attention so she balled her fists and clenched her jaw. By lunchtime, she had convinced him to contrive a plan with her for an escape where she could search for her kids. Tongue-tied, he informed her of the location where her children had been kept.

A guard stood stiffly at the hallway entrance to the apartment. The man was obviously chosen for his brawn. He had thick arms and a stern jaw. No one was going to get past Bruno very easily.

Blair was in place, ready to open the door and engage the brute in conversation. Carolyn fingered the car keys in her pocket. She felt her heart pounding fast in her throat.

This was it. The time to act was now.

Blair opened another button on his wrinkled shirt and ruffled his hair. Opening the door, he slipped outside where the guard eyed him warily.

"I-I think that I should tell you," he stated, "My wife has that bad flu that's been going around. You know, the one where people have a fever, body aches, chills, and vomiting? So much vomiting! Yeah, I think that's what she has. I'm trying to take care of her."

Conveniently, Blair feigned a sneeze into the air and the guard backed up a step.

"I haven't had much sleep, Bruno. That's your name, right? I've been up all night with her in the bathroom. It's such a mess, you know."

Blair blew his nose into a handkerchief and coughed.

"I think that I might be coming down with it, too."

Another well-aimed fake sneeze and Blair spewed spittle into Bruno's face. Repulsed, the guard jumped back and wiped open hands down his eyes and cheeks. He blinked and stared at his wet palms.

Aghast, Bruno tensed the muscles in his face and said to Blair, "Get back in your apartment, Mr. Thompson! I'm going to take a shower and change my clothes! Don't leave! I'll be back shortly. Maybe I can get you and the Mrs. some 7-up or something."

"That would be great, Bruno," Blair sniffed loudly through his nose and smiled. "Oh, thanks! That will be just fine."

Bruno disappeared down the hall and into an elevator.

With a suitcase clutched in her hand, Carolyn slipped through the open door. She turned to Blair and wanted to give him an Emmy for his performance.

"Be careful, Carolyn," he instructed. "I'll keep up the act on this end. Go and find your kids."

She half smiled and kissed his cheek then scampered down the hall and vanished into the stairwell.

—-

At 7:30 in the morning, Ailwen was awake and squealed at seeing her father. Her bright blue eyes mirrored his own. Riding in his arms, she kicked her legs and squealed more when Captain Gregg trotted down the stairs and into the kitchen. Martha heard the deep voice of Captain Gregg earlier and set off for the kitchen to prepare the child's breakfast. His optimism being contagious, Daniel updated the housekeeper with hopes of bringing Carolyn and her children home in the very near future, and Martha, ever the cook, started to entertain the idea of what cake she would bake to celebrate their return.

Once the seaman fed his daughter, he hugged and kissed her then bidding his housekeeper a pleasant good-bye, he ventured on to the country church where Pastor Edmond was waiting.

The sunshine that greeted him as he lifted into the air was full, fair, and cast enough warmth that he could almost swear to feeling it penetrate his spirit body.

A cardinal of vivid red feathers flew passed him, unaware of the ghost's presence. Darting higher into the sky, Captain Gregg spied the church drawing closer and shook his head. Edmond was standing outside with breadcrumbs in hand that he was tossing to his only living congregation which consisted of a variety of songbirds that gathered at the chapel on every agreeable morning possible. In Daniel's wake, a potato chip bag followed obediently and both descended into the churchyard. Edmond's smile exploded with delight and he reached up and took hold of his salty carbohydrate addiction. A perverse but mild enjoyment danced in the Captain's eyes when he entertained the idea that perhaps he was feeding a bird of his own. A portly pigeon to be precise that wore sashes of gold and a crucifix hung around his neck.

Amiably, the pair retreated into the age and weather-worn House of God. On the altar lay the alabaster flask and Edmond spun his portly girth around to face Daniel, giving him proper instructions on how to proceed.

"Remove your boots first, Captain," he said, "And then lay on the altar."

Daniel responded with a cocked eyebrow.

Edmond handed him a gracious smile.

"What are you going to do, Edmond?" The Captain inquired at the same time he complied with the cleric's request.

"This," he pointed to the flask, "Is a special anointing oil containing Carolyn's DNA which will absorb into your spirit body and temporarily merge with your DNA to create a variation of what you both experienced in your previous marriages."

Daniel inhaled a faux breath and Edmond broke the neck of the flask. Quietly he hummed a hymn and poured the oil over the seaman's forehead, down both of his cheeks and across his collarbone.

"Now lay there and rest, my son. Let the oil soak in. You should feel different soon enough."

"Edmond?"

"Yes, son?"

Daniel's voice was gruff when he asked, "Why is it necessary for me to lay on the altar? What purpose is it serving?"

"Oh, that?" Edmond flitted his sausage-like fingers. "It serves no practical purpose except to amuse me."

—-

Freckles of rain appeared on the windshield of the borrowed car Carolyn Thompson was driving. As part of the plan for her to search for her children, Blair had given her the keys to his car, all of the cash that he carried, and one credit card where she was an authorized user.

He gave her the name of a town in the Portland, Maine area to begin her search and now was making the drive north from New York. He had advised her not to seek help from the police, stating that the mob had their fingers of influence stretching all along the east coast and that many members of local and state police had found their way into the nefarious group's pocket. She would be on her own and Blair would continue the act of her being ill back in the apartment.

Inwardly, Carolyn hoped that somehow her ghost captain would find her, and together they could search for Jonathan and Candy, but she reconciled the fact that that would open the door to an entirely new issue she was ill-prepared to face. Her marriage to Daniel's late wife's ex-husband.

—

"Your strange sense of humor does little to amuse me, Edmond," Daniel grated. "You would do well to remind yourself of that from time-to-time." In his thoughts, Daniel wondered how well cayenne pepper powder would stick to potato chips.

Edmond only snickered and checked the saturation of the anointing oil. Such was their relationship and the cleric rarely passed up an opportunity to better his spirit-captain friend who seemed to take most matters all too seriously in the pastor's opinion.

"Stand up, now, my son. Focus on Carolyn as you would do if you two were married."

Daniel complied, closed his eyes, and raised tented fingers to his lips. "I'm in the place, Edmond, but something is not… right."

"No? Show me, Captain."

The two gripped each other's hand and Daniel brought Edmond inside the empathic network that could join him to Carolyn. They stood on a mysterious cliff overlooking an expanse of sea that bubbled with a strange man's voice.

Edmond's jaw went slack. He brought up a hand to cover his mouth and sweat beaded on his forehead.

Daniel noted that the cleric had never sweat the entire time that he had known him as a spirit. "What is it, man!? Tell me!"

They emerged from the empathic link. Edmond was twisting his hands and pacing the aisle of the church.

"Well?!" Daniel bellowed.

Pastor Edmond weakly shrugged his shoulders saying, "I-I'm sorry, my son. Your Carolyn has wed another man."