Part Two: History Repeats Itself
Steve grumbled under his breath as the wind blustered around him, the chilly ocean front air cutting through both the T-shirt and matching blue patterned flannel that he was wearing over it. It didn't help that that background music pouring out of the house now was "Jingle Bells." That song always made him think of snow and cold weather.
He looked through the deck railing and into the house, thinking briefly of going inside and grabbing a jacket. That way he could try to maintain at least a little body heat. But then, he realized that would mean climbing down the ladder that he was perched on top of, and then climbing back up it again to finish hanging the lights. He'd just as soon stay out there shivering. As long as he didn't look down, he didn't have to think about just how far up he was.
Standing on the top of a ladder, trying to hang uncooperative lights along the lower edge of the deck wasn't his idea of fun under normal circumstances. They always managed to tangle, and it didn't help that he was trying to alternate colors. But ever since the Morganstern case it had been worse. One trip up and down the ladder to hang the lights was all he was good for. And not just because he didn't like heights. The manner of Fred Morganstern's death had given his slightly acrophobic sensibilities the heebee jeebees. It had all happened five years ago . . . .
Having managed to convince Jesse to stay behind while he checked out the yelling that was coming from the Morganstern's, he'd just rounded the hedges near the property line when the neighbor's home came into view. The first thing he noticed was Alexis Morganstern, standing beside a fallen ladder in the yard. Usually perfectly made up, she had mascara running in dark smears down her face as she looked up toward the roof screaming Fred's name hysterically.
As Steve cautiously moved in closer, he followed her gaze upward and drew to a gasping halt at the sight before him. There, hanging from the eaves, was Fred Morganstern. A thick cord of flashing red and green lights were wrapped tightly about his neck. Dressed in green sweat pants matched with a patterned red and green sweat shirt, he looked like some sort of macabre ornament in a Christmas decorating scheme gone horribly wrong. Just the thought of those wires wrapped tightly around Fred's throat made Steve swallow hard.
Policeman's instinct snapped swiftly into place, as his mind automatically catalogued the things that he saw and heard. Bert, Fred's identical twin brother, was standing on the roof, babbling incoherently as he held onto a smiling half-lit Santa. As Steve watched, the man slipped slightly, nearly loosing his footing on the steep roof.
With the man's near slip, Alexis' screams reached new heights. She nearly squealed his name as more tears poured down her face. Grimly, Steve put his gun away. He wasn't going to need it here tonight. Turning half to the side, he yelled over the hedges, "Dad! Jess! Amanda! You'd better get over here, and bring a ladder!"
At hearing his voice, Alexis seemed to realize that he was in the yard. She ran to his side and grasped his arm, yanking at it with jerking motions. "Help him! Oh, please, you've got to help him!"
"I'm working on that, Mrs. Morganstern," Steve tried to calm her, but her grip only tightened as perfectly manicured nails bit through his shirt and into his skin. He was relieved when his dad and Amanda appeared around the hedges. Both registered shock before continuing forward. He ushered Alexis into Mark's care.
Amanda looked with dismay at the obviously dead man hanging from the eaves and declared that she'd need to get Ms. June, one of the choir ladies, to take care of CJ and Dion for her because this was going to take a while. She set off back around the hedge just as Jesse appeared carrying a ladder.
Jesse paled a little as he took in the scene, allowing Steve to take the ladder from his grasp without looking away from the form hanging overhead.
Refusing to think about what he was going to have to do, Steve settled the ladder against the side of the house and started up. It was obvious that Bert wasn't in any condition to climb down the ladder alone at the moment. The man was still babbling incoherently, though he was too far up for Steve to make out what he was saying. But as he reached the roof level, he began to catch some of the words.
"I didn't know . . . . I didn't know. I'm so sorry. I didn't know . . ." His gaze was locked on the grisly form of his hanging brother.
"Bert." Steve called his name gently from the top of the ladder. "Bert, I need you to look at me."
"I didn't know . . . . I didn't know . . . . " Bert continued to babble.
"Bert!" Steve called his name more forcefully. "Look at me, Bert. Do it for Fred."
The maneuver seemed to work as the man drew his stunned gaze toward Steve. He blinked once and then gazed down at the light bulb that he still held in one hand. He watched it numbly as it fell from his fingers and bumped against the roof several times before rolling over the edge and toppling to the ground.
The sight seemed to affect him deeply as his eyes reddened and teared. "I heard him yell, Steve," Bert said. "I heard him yell. But, since he only yelled once, and I was changing the bulbs under Santa's back side, I thought it could wait. I didn't know. I'm so sorry . . ."
"I know, Bert." Steve tried to placate the man. "But now you've got to let me get you down. Can you come over here and get on the ladder?"
Bert looked at him for a long moment and then nodded once.
"Good." Steve held out his hand toward him. As he did so, he made the mistake of looking downward. The world seemed to spin for a half second before he realized that the vertigo was all in his mind. Shoving away the buzz in his head, he locked his eyes back on the man on the roof. It wouldn't do for him to freeze up while he was trying to help someone else down.
Bert didn't seem to catch Steve's momentary lapse, and moved very slowly in his direction. He made it to the ladder and down to the bottom without incident. Despite the cool December weather, Steve was perspiring and felt uncomfortably trembly.
He'd hardly had time to pull himself together before Bert looked up at his brother and started babbling frantically again. His words added to Alexis' now lower-toned murmuring.
"Dad?" he looked at his father askance. Mark nodded, knowing what he needed. But before he could lead the pair into the house, Alisha, the couple's daughter, appeared at the front door.
"What's going on?" she asked, confusion written all over her lovely face. Before she could come farther out into the yard and see what had happened to her uncle, Jesse rushed forward.
Steve sighed with relief as his father and Jesse and the three remaining Morgansterns headed into the house. He turned as a police cruiser pulled into the driveway. Amanda returned soon after.
The wind gusted up and blew a bit of dust into his eyes, bringing Steve back to the present. He blinked watering eyes as he considered the section of lights he had just hung. There was one irritatingly twisted bit off to the left. Mildly annoyed, he reached to again untwist it so that the colors would show correctly. As he did so, one of his feet slipped slightly to the side, throwing off an already precarious balance. In the next moment, his footing was lost altogether and he felt the sick sensation of plunging through empty air.