Witches and Goblins: Chapter 2
The Party
Frankie was ready for them when they arrived. She'd stopped on her way home from work and purchased a couple of doughnuts. They were sitting on the table and a pot of coffee was brewing. Her four year-old son was at her mom's so he would be out of her way. This had been arranged prior to her friend's call the day before, but it was very convenient for her. Frankie had planned on sleeping and then cleaning the house before her son's soccer game. It was the last one of the season and the team was coming over afterward for a supper.
She watched the two walk up to the door. Right on time. She met them at the door, "Sam and Dean, I presume?" The two were obviously puzzled. "It's a small town. Not much goes on without everyone knowing about it. Come on in. I must insist we keep it short though. I've got a lot to do today and I've been up all night." She led them down a hallway filled with pictures of her and her son and into the kitchen. "I hope coffee is ok. I've got creamer and sugar. And of course, help yourself to the doughnuts" She nodded toward the table. "Well, have a seat".
Kitchen was a standard kitchen. It had black appliances with white tile backsplash. The tile on the floor was ash gray. The kitchen table was a plain wooden table with four wooden chairs. Sitting on the table was three orange and white plates. One with the doughnuts and the other two were empty and sitting in front of two chairs.
The boys followed her directions. Dean grabbed a doughnut and took a big bite. Sam stared at him and mouthed unbelievable. Dean grinned. Frankie's back was toward them getting the coffee cups and did not see the interaction. "Well, how do you like your coffee?" she turned around to see Dean eating the doughnut. "Good, I'm glad you're eating. I don't need those left in the house."
Frankie had poured everyone coffee and was settled in at the head of the table. One brother on each side. Dean sipped the coffee, "Now this is good! The best coffee I've had."
"Thanks. I get them shipped her directly from Columbia. My family owns a coffee farm there." The two brothers looked at each other over coffee cups. "I'm kidding. What can I do for you" She took a drink of her own coffee.
"We are friends of Jessica from college and are trying to understand what happened. We hoped to find out what she did the night of her death," Dean took another sip of his coffee.
"Well, it was our annual Halloween party. I think Rebecca told you that. We're a tight-knit group of friends. We stayed real close even though some left for college. The Halloween party was one of the few times we all got together. We had it at the old Brown's farm, the one on the other side of the bridge. It's the only house out there, so it was the perfect setting. It was freezing that night, but the fire, drinks, and people kept us warm."
"The old house on the road, the one that looked like it was falling down?" Sam hoped this may be the lead they were looking for.
"Yeah, that's the one. It wasn't trespassing because it's Jay's family. We just used it for the night. He said it was ok. Rebecca, Jessica, and I went out there earlier to get it set-up. I got a bunch of stuff for decorations off the internet this year. Our theme was witches and goblins. So, everything matched. It looked great! We had a few drinks, said a few incantations. After one, she insisted on leaving, Trent followed her. I guess, she just freaked out. That's all I know."
"Incantations? What kind of incantations?" Sam asked.
"Just the ones that came with the pot. They were just silly things to make it seem more real. We were just messing around. I left the instructions and stuff at the farm. I haven't had the time to go pick it up." The phone rang and Frankie left the room to answer it.
"We should check-out the house and the stuff she purchased. Maybe we're looking at a ghost." Dean whispered to Sam.
"Or a witch."
Frankie came back in the room. "Hey, I gotta go." She was obviously shaken.
"What wrong?" Sam and Dean asked in unison.
"My friend Jane just died. Suicide. I gotta go," Frankie picked up her purse from the kitchen counter and led the boys out of the house. She got in her mini-van and headed to the edge of town and the bridge.
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The brothers pulled up to the old farm house. The house's white and black pain was chipping. The porch leaned to the right. It stood against the gusts of wind by sure will. There was an old metal arch with an uneven side walk leading up to the leaning porch. Most of the windows were boarded.
"Great place for a Halloween party," Dean smirked taking in the house.
"Yeah, couldn't get much creepier," Sam loaded two shotguns with salt rounds. He handed Dean one, "Well, let's go." The two brothers headed up the sidewalk to the creaky porch.
"Should we knock?"
Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam's question, "Who do you think will answer?"
"Good point."
Dean pushed the door open and the two walked with their guns at the ready and began to sweep the room. The front door opened to a large living room. The room was decorated with streamers and had crates and folding chairs set-up around the room creating a sitting area. Burnt black and orange candles were spread out through out the living room. The two made their way to the kitchen. It had a barely working faucet and coolers where the fridge should have been. Dean popped one of the coolers open. Beer remained sitting in water. Otherwise nothing was out of place.
The two turned down the hallway and entered what would have been a bedroom. The doorway had glass beads that jingled as Dean entered. This room unlike the others only had black candles and the walls were not splattered with streamers or cheesy Halloween decorations. This room had only three black candles positioned around a black cauldron. The cauldron was filled with a dark liquid. Dean went to stick his finger in the liquid, but Sam grabbed his hand and pulled it back, "Dude, you're gonna stick your hand in liquid that we don't know what it is."
"Good point," he wiped his hand on his jeans and scrunched up his face.
"It's probably just water, but let's just make sure." Sam went back to the kitchen and opened the cabinets until he found a glass jar. Sam slowly and carefully removed a small amount of liquid. "Yeah, its water. But still don't stick your finger in it."
"What do you think of all this stuff? You know the witchy stuff, is it real?"
"Not sure. But there's nothing here suggesting otherwise. The thing is a witch is needed to make anything worth while, right? No sulfur or evidence of ghosts." Sam stuck his hands in his pockets. "I guess we've got some research to do. I'll check this stuff out online and you can go around and ask some more questions." Sam tucked the written incantations into his pocket.
"Sounds like a plan." Sam and Dean left the house and headed to town to start their work.
Sam settled onto the hotel couch and placed his laptop on the table in front of him. The hotel wasn't bad for $200 a week. They'd stayed at worse, much worse. The room was one large room with two beds and a mirror/dresser combo. The bathroom was on the opposite end as the door. A small hallway, large enough for one man, connected the bathroom to the rest of the room. On each side of the hallway, there was a cubby hole closet with a couple of wire hangers. The red shag carpet and wallpaper dated it. The couch sat adjacent to the bathroom room and the TV was on the wall across from the couch. There was no other furniture in the room, no table or extra chairs. The furniture filled the room and there wasn't much extra floor space. Its gonna be a long afternoon. Sam turned on the television for some background noise.
Dean pulled up to the square. It was one of those, small town squares where stores and shops circumferences an old gymnasiums and community center. The gym lawn was professionally landscaped. In fact, an old man was tending to the sculpted bushes. Dean approached him.
"Hey there," Dean gave the man a friendly half-smile.
"What you want?" Came the gruff reply. The man didn't stop his working or look at Dean for that matter. It was obvious his work was more important then what Dean wanted.
"Ughh…" Dean's hands were in his pocket, "Just wondering where a good place would be to meet some young people in town."
"Do I look like someone who knows where young people hang-out?" Sarcasm oozed off the man's tongue like honey from a spoon.
"Well, sure. You probably watch all the young gals walking by…," Dean replied as two very attractive ladies swayed by. The brunette looked over the top of her glasses at Dean. "Maybe I'll just follow her…" Dean murmured.
"Hey grandpa!" The same brunette waved at the old man. Dean blushed.
"You mean my grand daughter?" The old man stopped working and scowled at Dean. "Now I don't think you should be anywhere near her. I've got a lot to get done and I can see you don't plan on leaving until I tell you where to go. So, go over there to Ducktails. Anyone you'll want to meet will be in there." He turned abruptly and went back to work.
Not wishing to continue a conversation with the grumpy man, Dean headed to the bar. After all, a beer is always good at 1:00 in the afternoon. Ducktail's was an interesting bar. The sign had Ducktail written in golden letters next to an outline of a duck. Inside it was a small bar with pictures of every species of duck on the wall, including the rubber kind. At first glance you'd think you were in a duck hall of fame or museum.
Dean walked over and sat down on a bar stool next to two gentlemen talking about a recent suicide. Dean ordered a beer and snaked his way into their conversation.
Author's note: Thanks for reading. If you have the time, please share your thought and review.