Chapter Eight
The third floor was a mixture of bedrooms, another kitchen, and assorted storage and other rooms. Unlike the other floors, the rooms other than the bedrooms and bathroom were mostly open, without doors to give them privacy. There was definitely a cot somewhere up there, but so far Angelique and her group had not been able to find it.
"This is just freaky!" Joey cried, jumping out of the way as a loosened wooden beam taken off of a bunk bed fell across his path. "There's no cot in here!"
"So we'll try the next room," Tristan said. "I remember seeing it, but for some reason I just can't remember where!"
"Maybe those ghosts are messing with all of our minds now!" Joey wildly messed up his hair.
"I haven't felt anything while we've been up here," Tristan said.
"I feel something," Ishizu said quietly, "but it's just a presence quietly watching us. It isn't anything like what we felt in the North wing."
"Whatever's there has to be evil," Téa shuddered. "Trying to push Yugi and somehow making Nesbitt forget one specific person?!"
"That's so awful for both him and Mr. Lector," Serenity said softly. "I wish there was something more we could do. . . ."
"Finding that cot is important," Marik said. "I don't think Gansley should be alone in his room, and by now, I don't think he thinks he should be alone either. And they're going to have to get some sleep." He stood in the middle of what had once been a play room, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the toys from various years past scattered on the floor around him.
"What is it with all of this stuff anyway?" Joey wondered.
"Evangeline said she used to play here as a little girl," Angelique said. "She wants to fix it all up again and let Gabriel come over to play, but we haven't got that far yet."
"So who messed it all up?" Joey frowned. "I mean, if Evangeline was the last kid to use the place and then her great-grandma died and it was vacant . . ."
"We've been so caught up in the supernatural aspects of this mystery that we've completely forgotten that someone very much alive is also involved," Ishizu said. "I wonder if the living person was looking for something as well."
"Maybe that's what's even got the ghosts so riled up," Tristan suggested. "Maybe the living person is a creep and now the ghosts don't trust any other living people either."
"That still doesn't give them the right to do what they did to Yugi and Nesbitt," Téa retorted.
"Of course not!" Tristan said. "I'm just saying."
"And something else I'm wondering," Joey suddenly said. "What about the grandma? I mean, we've got all these 'greats,' but we haven't heard word one about the grandma. . . ."
"Maybe she died young?" Mai suggested.
". . . You know, I'm not sure," Angelique realized. "I don't remember Evangeline ever talking about her grandmother."
"That's kind of weird," Téa said. "I mean, when we know about all these other family members, it's weird."
"Hey, guys!" Yugi suddenly called. He ran over to them.
"Yugi!" Tristan said in surprise. "What's going on?"
"I came to help you look for the cot," Yugi said.
"We can sure use some more help," Joey frowned. "You don't remember where it was, do you, Yug?"
"Not really," Yugi sighed.
"Is there any news from downstairs?" Téa asked.
"Well, Nesbitt's treating Lector nice even though he doesn't remember, so there's that," Yugi said. "Lector left now to go after Evangeline, and Gansley went with him. . . . Atem's waiting for the second floor ghost to show up. . . ."
"There is a ghost here," Ishizu said, "but it seems to just be watching us and has no desire to interfere or show itself."
"Okay. I guess we just have to keep looking," Yugi said slowly. "None of the Big Five feel like sleeping any time soon, but sooner or later they'll have to."
"Right," Joey nodded. "There can't be many more rooms to search!"
"Unless we're all remembering wrong and it's actually in the attic or the basement," Angelique said.
"Man, I don't wanna go in the attic or the basement," Joey groaned. "Those kinds of places are ghost centrals!"
"They can't be worse than the North wing," Mai retorted.
". . . Good point," Joey sighed.
xxxx
The lights were on at the Leichter family mansion, and considering the hour, Lector didn't know whether to think that was good or bad. But Evangeline's car was in the driveway, so she had apparently arrived first and got in. He and Gansley hurried out and up to the porch.
Evangeline thrust the door open before they could knock. "It was Marie!" she cried, not surprised at all to see them. "Marie did it!"
Lector rocked back. "What?!"
Gansley laid a hand on his shoulder. "What, specifically, did she do?" he frowned.
Marie was kneeling on the stairs, oddly sobbing. "I just wanted to keep Father from going to prison," she said. "I thought maybe I could erase someone's memories of what happened with him so their testimony wouldn't work and maybe the jury would vote in favor of Father. But something went wrong. I didn't mean to make Démas's friend forget him! I swear I didn't mean to do that!"
"She went upstairs and tried to do some corrupted voodoo!" Evangeline screamed, pointing at her. "She did it like in the movies—the doll, the pin, the whole bit!"
"And right when she stabbed the pin, Nesbitt was trying to save Yugi and he fell down the stairs," Lector realized. He frowned. "I don't know that I believe corrupted voodoo caused this, but it's just as outlandish as the idea that the restless spirits in the house caused it."
Marie stiffened. "You went in the North wing?!"
"That's where it happened," Lector said. "Do you know something about it?"
Marie looked away. "I know it's not a good place. I don't know who's in there or why they won't go or why they hate visitors. No one really knows, unless maybe Grandmother . . ."
"Marie!" Mrs. Leichter cut in as she appeared from the den. "We don't talk about Grandmother. You know we can't burden her with any of this talk about the North wing."
Marie gripped the banister. "But I've done something really horrible, Mother. I need to find a way to fix it. Maybe Grandmother could help!"
"I forbid you to tell her about this!" Mrs. Leichter snapped.
". . . Suppose Marie actually did cause what went wrong," Gansley said, although even considering the notion left a very bad taste in his mouth. "How would it be fixed?"
"I don't know!" Marie wailed. "I don't even know how it happened!"
"That's why you don't go corrupting vodun like that!" Evangeline yelled. "It always backfires! Corrupting it brings out all kinds of evil!"
Lector rubbed his forehead. "I wonder if we had just better go back and pray to God for Nesbitt to recover. I'm tired of vodun, and magic, and all of this nonsense." He turned away. "But praying doesn't always help either. I feel so helpless . . . !"
Gansley sighed. "I think we should go. Including you, Evangeline."
". . . Yes, I guess so." Evangeline stormed past her mother and Marie and headed for the door. "We're not going to find any help or solutions here."
"Or any kindness and sympathy," Gansley growled at Mrs. Leichter. "You didn't want your husband to do what he did to your son. Why do you persist in treating your son as though he's in the wrong?"
Mrs. Leichter looked away.
"She can't be loyal to both, so she'll always choose Father, no matter how wrong Father is," Evangeline spat. She threw open the door and stormed down the stairs.
"Goodnight," Gansley snapped when Mrs. Leichter didn't counter the statement. He headed out as well, firmly steering Lector out with him.
"They make me so mad I could just spit!" Evangeline fumed.
"What is the deal with your grandmother?" Gansley asked.
"She's in a nursing home," Lector sighed. "Her mind . . . isn't what it used to be. She thinks she's a child."
"I see." Gansley sighed too. "I'm sorry." That sounded like a terrible fate to him. He hoped that his mind would always remain sharp, no matter how long he lived. He also hoped he still had a lot of years left.
Lector nodded wearily. "Let's just go back. I can't stand to be here any longer. . . ."
Evangeline gave a firm nod. "And I'm going to think about calling an exorcist," she said bitterly. "I want whatever's in the North wing out!"
"No more thinking they belong there too?" Gansley said.
"Once they started hurting people, they lost their right to belong there," Evangeline said. "I won't have them in my house!" She opened the door of her car and threw herself inside.
Gansley and Lector got into their car as well and drove out, then waited for Evangeline to leave and followed behind her.
"What do you think happened, Lector?" Gansley asked. "Doesn't voodoo only work if the person believes in it? I highly doubt Nesbitt does."
"What's more, I doubt it would work if the person has no knowledge that it's going to be used on them," Lector said. "I don't really believe in its magical properties at all. I believe that if it works, it's only through mental and emotional properties and the power of suggestion."
"That makes sense to me," Gansley said.
"I honestly don't know what happened," Lector continued. "I'd be more inclined to believe the spirits hurt him, when they were right there. Or . . ." He hesitated. "The Pharaoh said it was like something that Yami Marik did in the past. What if he's responsible again?"
"Unfortunately, that sounds logical to me," Gansley frowned.
"But how do we fix it?!" Lector suddenly cried. "This isn't a Shadow Game! There's no magical way to beat the game and put everything back to normal! This is reality!"
Gansley certainly had no answers. But after pondering for a long moment he said, "I've been a man of logic and reality for many years, as you well know. I never would have dreamed of any workable solutions that didn't involve one or the other or both. However, we've all discovered recently that some things completely challenge logic and realism at every turn, and work."
"You mean friendship and love," Lector said.
"Yes. Look at Nesbitt. Even after what was done to him, part of him still remembers you deep down. This isn't like realistic amnesia, which often can't be recovered from." Gansley sighed. "Perhaps the only way to save Nesbitt is to focus on what he remembers. Just be who you've always been and maybe in time, that will get through to him. . . . And if you want to pray that it will work, I doubt that will hurt."
Lector bowed his head. "I suppose you're right."
". . . And truthfully, I believe he will remember," Gansley added. "You mean too much to him for him to forget you for long."
"Thank you," Lector said quietly. He shook his head. "It's strange, how close we've become. I didn't care much for him when he started working at KaibaCorp, and I know he felt the same about me. Now, to think we mean so much to each other. . . ."
Gansley smiled a bit. "Getting to know someone can have that effect."
". . . Nesbitt will have to get to know me all over again," Lector frowned. "I really don't care to have to repeat how things were for us at first."
"It won't be the same as that," Gansley said. "When you first met, you were his boss. Once you were on equal ground as part of the Big Five, you were each able to see each other differently than before."
"That's true," Lector said.
"And he feels that you're important deep down," Gansley said. "Not to mention he trusts the words of those he does remember. It's going to be alright."
Lector nodded. "I hope I can believe it as strongly as you do."
Gansley hoped so too. But most of all, he hoped he was right.
xxxx
Nesbitt was asleep and the cot had been found by the time they returned. It had been half-buried under assorted pieces of wood meant to be used for renovating the third floor kitchen. But what disturbed everyone was that it had definitely not been there yesterday. Had the living placed it there . . . or the dead?
Gansley was too tired and disgusted to even care about the new mystery. "I'm going to bed," he announced. "You had better sleep too, Lector."
"Somebody should watch over Nesbitt," Lector frowned. "Just to make sure he's physically alright. . . ." And to make sure no one tries to do anything else to him.
"We'll take turns," Gansley said.
"I'll take the first watch," Johnson said softly. "Or I'll just watch with him all night; we are sharing the room. . . ."
"You need to sleep too," Gansley frowned.
"I'll wake up and take the second shift in a few hours," Crump said. "And what are we gonna do about court?!"
"That will be up to the judge and the district attorney," Johnson said. "They can decide whether Nesbitt's testimony is vital enough to postpone the rest of the trial until he's better. . . . If he gets better," he added.
The others were reluctant to leave the room, but eventually they did, leaving Johnson the only one awake. "We're right next-door," Crump told him, even though of course he knew. "Bang on the wall or something if you need us."
Johnson managed a smile. Banging on the wall likely wouldn't wake Gansley. But he supposed it would wake the others. And he did feel better knowing Gansley wasn't alone now.
He stiffened. Would the ghost start watching him, since Nesbitt was asleep and he would be technically alone?
He didn't want to think about that. He got up, walking to the window. Eerily enough, he could see the pool from here; the moon was shining on its surface in the distance. Was there really a siren out there that preyed on people's weaknesses? If there was, what would his weakness be, he wondered. His love for the others? He would have considered that a weakness once, but not anymore.
Maybe his weakness was his inability to stop blaming himself and feeling like he should be the one suffering. He should be, though, he frowned. He had been worse than any of the others, or so he believed.
He walked back to the bed and sat down, looking at Nesbitt without fully seeing him. Oh God, this is killing Lector, he prayed in his heart. Please don't make him or Nesbitt suffer like this. They've been through enough. Please. . . .
He sighed sadly and sank back. Daring to pray, after all he'd done and didn't know how to repair. . . .
His gaze fell on the Bible that had been placed on the nightstand between the beds, probably by Evangeline. How many times had he watched his witnesses be sworn in on the Bible and then proceed to tell whatever he had wanted them to say? He had found countless ways of twisting the truth and making it work for him and his clients. He had thought they were in the right, that he was justified and doing his job. . . . Or had he only told himself that? Had he really known he wasn't justified?
He fell back on the bed. Why had Lector ever liked him? He still didn't know, but he was grateful to have such a true friend. He knew Nesbitt was too. When the memories all flooded back—if they flooded back—he would be devastated. He had already been hurting enough being reminded of what he had done to Lector under Yami Marik's control. Right now those memories and feelings were gone, but when they returned, coupled with the knowledge that he had been made to forget Lector and only Lector . . . Johnson couldn't bear to think what the reaction would be.
xxxx
No matter how Mokuba tried, sleep would not come. He tossed and turned. He even read a little bit on his phone. Sometimes that made him sleepy, but not tonight.
He looked to Seto. He seemed to have dozed, and Mokuba certainly didn't want to disturb him. He overworked himself so much that he often didn't get nearly enough sleep. They had talked for a while, Seto knowing Mokuba was distraught over the night's events, but Mokuba still wanted to talk, or better yet, do something.
He threw the covers over his head and texted Marik.
Hey. Are you awake?
He made sure the volume was completely off as he waited for a reply. Seto was a light sleeper, and even the ding of a new text on the lowest volume could wake him up.
I'm afraid so.
Mokuba perked up at the reply.
I can't just lay here. I want to help fix this! Any ideas?
He knew Marik wouldn't advocate doing anything dangerous, but he still hoped his friend would be willing to try something, anything.
I don't know. I've been trying to think myself. The Pharaoh is still awake
trying to contact the second floor ghosts, I think, so I don't know what else
we could try that wouldn't be dangerous.
Mokuba frowned, pondering on the problem. Then his eyes sparkled with an idea.
Why don't we try the third floor? You said Ishizu felt a ghost up there. And
it just seemed to be watching too, so it's probably not dangerous.
Marik was silent so long now that Mokuba just about gave up on a response. But finally the screen changed with a new message.
I think Yugi's on the third floor all alone, hoping it will come out if he's
by himself. But I'll tell you what. Why don't we try the basement?
Mokuba blinked in surprise.
Are you sure, Marik? I know you don't like basements, or anything underground.
The reply came quickly.
I don't, but I have to admit, when we were down there, I felt something. I thought
it was just my dislike of basements, but I'm not so sure now. It didn't feel dangerous,
just . . . curious, maybe?
Mokuba felt a shiver in spite of himself. He didn't like ghosts in general. But he wanted so badly to help Lector and Nesbitt. . . .
Okay! Let's do it. I'll meet you in the hall.
He put his phone in his pocket and quietly got out of bed. If Seto woke up and found he was up, he would immediately call or text, so Mokuba wanted to be sure to keep the device with him. He tiptoed to the door and unlocked it as noiselessly as he could.
Seto rolled over. Mokuba froze. But when Seto didn't move again, the boy sighed in relief and slipped into the hall.
Sorry, Seto, he thought to himself as he hurried over to Marik. This is something I've just got to do.