Chapter Fourteen

20th December

1930hrs.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay, but you always knew I didn't get on well with your brother, he just rubs me the wrong way, and as for your mother!!"

"Its five days before Christmas and you thought it'd be acceptable to just pack up and haul your family across the country back home? Just because you can't hold your tongue for a few family gatherings?"

"Its your family".

"It became YOUR family too, you know, oh, I think I remember the day they became your family. What was it? Oh yeah, the day we got MARRIED!"

"Bite my tongue? Its your mother who seems to wag hers more then a happy dog?"

"Are you calling my mother a bitch?"

"Noo.. no. No!"

"Oh then what are you saying? What are you going to say to your son when he was wakes on Christmas morning with just him us and a house without decoration?"

"He'll be fine!"

"He was fine before! With his cousins, his uncles, his aunties, his grandparents!"

"You ever stop to think that he's okay! He's not going to care where he is when he gets to unwrap all that crap we got him! He's some little sissy! For god's sake, you'll going to soften him up with all your mothering, he'll end up…"

"End up what?? Gay? Like my brother? Huh? Is that what your problem, you're homo hating bigot?"

"NO! Don't put words in my mouth!"

"OH, I think you're doing a good enough job putting your foot in there!"

"I wouldn't care if he was… like your brother… that way?"

"Really? You can't even say the word, are you that much of a close minded fool?"

"What! No! I just don't see a point in saying that word".

"Because it disgusts you? You think you're going to go gay if you say it?"

"I'll probably go gay if I thought it'd stop your constant nagging!"

Slap.

"I'm getting our son, and I'm getting our bags and we're going back to my parents' place, and if you decide you can control your bigoted sarcasm you're welcome to join us. If not, enjoy your flight".

"You're not making any sense, this argument isn't making any sense!"

The blond woman was already walking back towards the exit, bags hanging from one arm, son in the other. The very public airport seemed to continue on without too much concern for two people arguing. It was busy. Flights delayed, some cancelled, people every where, sleeping, sitting, sweating. It was just a normal airport day five days before Christmas.

"I LIKE GAYS!"

The man screamed across the lobby that for those three words went suddenly very quiet, he got a few glances, some annoyed, some confused, and some that came with a wink and set of puckered lips.

"GOD!"

Spike growled as he grabbed his curly brown locks and parked his backside down on the grubby seat that's cushion was long since flattened into anything other then comfy.

Carly and Daniel were soon no longer visible in the crowd. How horrifically embarrassing. He could either return home and try and explain to anyone who saw him, why he wasn't with his wife and child on the most family orientated day of the year, or he could just go back to his in-laws, maybe swing by a bottle shop and get some expensive bottle of grog as an excuse for his not returning with his bride. He sighed and lent his head back, staring up at the high ceiling and its maze of pipes and dotted with migraine inducing florescent lights.

"Wow, you certainly know how to dig yourself into a hole, son".

The voice was gruff, with a the hint of wisdom that age often brought. If it wasn't for the fact his father was dead, he would have guessed it was him. It wasn't. It was an older man, perhaps late 50s, early 60s. He wore a business suit, which was ruffled from probably waiting too long in this place for a delayed flight. His head was devoid of hair. Expensive looking glasses sat uncomfortably on the bridge of his nose. He loosened his tie slightly and smiled at him.

"Let me tell you something kid, and its not every day you get advice that could save your marriage for free".

Spike wasn't too impressed to be getting marital advice from a bald businessman in an airport terminal five days before Christmas, but it was something other then listening to his own thoughts, so tolerated it.

"One: women, they're always right, even when they're wrong, even when they know their wrong, even when you know they're wrong and even when they know you know they're wrong. If you have a penis, you're always wrong. The sooner you accept that the better".

He rubbed his fuzzy chin and pushed those glasses up his nose a little higher.

"Two: women can hate their family, they can hate their parents, they will bitch and moan and bellyache you till you want to vomit, and they may be right. Their family may be a bunch of bastards, nasty, mean, horrid, the usual. But YOU must never, EVER bitch about HER family. Ever".

He leant back ever so slightly, just enough it seemed to adjust his pants.

"Three: the saying is marriage is compromise is bullshit. The real truth is marriage is about keeping her happy. And if she's happy, chances are you would have sold your soul and principles to do it. If it means agreeing with her racist Republican father you agree, if it means telling her fat ugly Democrat mother you're voting for Hillary because you think a woman would do America good, you say it. If it means telling her gay brother, no your arse doesn't look big in that, you say it. If it means listening to her little sister tell you all about her lousy boyfriend then you listen. You never complain to your wife about her racist dad, her feminazi mother, her flaming brother, or her irritating little skank of a sister".

He reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out a hanky, wiped his nose.

"Four: women are like elephants, they don't forget. Don't ever tell your wife you think she's like an elephant. But be warned, anything you do that pisses her off, she'll remember till her dying day. This here, this is one of those things".

He stuffed the damp hanky back into his pocket.

"Go after your wife, son, because it's a rare thing to have a beautiful wife and child in these days, especially around Christmas".

"Thanks".

Spike stood, grabbed his bag and started pushing through the throng of people that milled around.

--

There was no way the man could find a way to please everyone with just one bottle of wine, and so had purchased a Chardonnay and a Merlot, both incredibly expensive and sourced from a old New Zealand winery. He went for the New Zealand source because he thought it might cotton him some favour with her very classy gay brother and because her parents had spent their honey moon in some part of that country, he forgot where, and hoped they wouldn't ask.

He sat in the rental car thumbing the edges of the slightly damp bills, he wondered if he'd ever find a place in her family. He was the son of a grease monkey and there was only so far his "I'm the Ambassador of Earth" title would carry him. He hadn't gotten there from hard work or education or breeding, but from sheer dumb luck, he was in the right place at the right time and met an alien species who changed his life. Her father was a leading obstetrician and had invented several amazing techniques with which to operate on ill foetuses. Her mother was a local court judge, after having served as the district attorney for about a decade. Her career was spotted with presidential meetings and land mark cases, which she, of course, won. Her brother (the gay one) was also a lawyer and one hell of a civil rights activist, he would often be busy with public speaking and appearances on talk shows – he had a picture in his office of him and Oprah and a then bright eye politician called Obama someone. Her other brother was a doctor, a surgeon of some description working in an Emergency Department in New York. He wasn't there currently as he was rostered on to work festive season. Her younger sister, well, she was in her final year of law at Harvard. She too, had dreams of civil rights marches and winning law suits for the improvised and legally suppressed. His wife, of course, was a graduate of MIT with computer sciences, advanced quantum mechanics or some such. Her whole family was littered with high IQs and oozed success.

His dad had been a grease monkey.

His mum had died years ago, but she had simply been a care giver in a rest home. No education there.

His brother had dropped off the face of the earth, and had dropped out of high school when he was 16. Spike had only been 10 at the time. He hadn't heard from him since.

He never knew his mother's grandparents and had no contact with her siblings – none had obtained anything worth while with their lives.

His father's parents died when he was 5 - a car accident.

He'd grown up as an essentially only child. His dad had tried best he could to give Spike a normal life, hence his reluctance to get too involved with those aliens, but eventually relented when he saw it was actually benefiting and improving the boy's lot in life. It was opening doors.

If it wasn't for the 'bots, his father would have died a poor man in a trailer, grease still on his clothes, dirt still under his finger nails. Spike would probably be flipping burgers somewhere, and Carly, well, Carly would have been just fine without him or the Autobots.

Depressing thought really.

Spike picked up his cell phone and dialled.

It rung three times before half way through the half it was picked up.

"What?"

"Carly. I'm sorry. I did some thinking. You were right. I'm just getting some things and I'll be there soon".

There was silence for a few moments, but he could hear the occasional breath so knew she hadn't hung up.

"Mum needs some cream for the cheese cake, it needs to be the unwhipped stuff, not from a can. Fresh. And dad wants some more pretzels, the plain flavour, salted. Okay?"

"Yeah. You want anything?"

"No. I got what I wanted".

She said.

"See you soon, honey".

She finished and hung up.

Must of meant the apology.

He had just put the phone down when it rung again, thinking it was his wife who'd forgotten to add something to the list, he picked it up immediately and answered without looking at the screen.

"Wow, you answered that fast, Spike".

"Chip?"

"Yeah, look, I'm sorry to bother you, especially at your in-laws, but I got a major problem and a creepy insane one at that".

"Sure, Chip, shoot".

"Well, remember when you once told me, over a pint or two, that your dad had seen stuff during his time in the service".

"You need to be more specific then just "stuff" Chip".

He replied.

"Ghosts".

"Okay, now that's pretty specific".

"Look, this isn't a joke, and I know it must sound crazy".

"Its been a crazy night".

"I just need to know what kind of stories your dad told you, and you know… how he may have dealt with such?"

"You mean how he dealt with being haunted or something?"

"Yeah".

Chip paused for a moment.

"You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"I never thought my dad was".

"Well… what can you tell me?"

"Um… he told me one story where he was fighting in some forest near a village they'd just raided because they heard there was an enemy base there. He said he was rushing out into the forest to secure a boarder when he saw his friend up ahead of him, my dad said he ran after his friend, trying to get to him because he was afraid of an ambush. Anyway, my dad lost him, and had to return to the village. When he got to the village he found the guy he was chasing, he'd been killed in the initial attack. My dad had been chasing a ghost. A lot of his stories are like that".

"Did he ever get "haunted", were there ever ghosts or something of a similar nature… um… hanging around?"

"Yeah, a few times. After my mum died he said she was always there in the kitchen when he got back from work. He said he could always smell his favourite dinner, a meat casserole. She made it for him the night before she was diagnosed with the cancer, she never cooked again after the docs told her, she got too sick too fast".

"How did your dad feel about that?"

"He liked it, I think it was how he managed to deal so well with her death, because it was like she was still there, it was… I don't' know… comforting to him I suppose".

"What about negative things? Anything bad ever haunt?"

Spike was quiet for a moment, obviously thinking.

"Yeah, we moved into this rental for a few months while our old house was being fixed up – there was a burst water main that flooded the basement and damaged the foundation. A lot of creepy stuff happened there. I was about 14 at the time, so old enough to know what was going on wasn't natural, and I'd grown up listening to my dad's stories enough, but hadn't seen anything myself. I know you're all into science and stuff, Chip, but there was shit in that house that I saw that I don't' think science could ever explain. Things like temperature drops when the heater was on full bore, lights would flick on and off independently, pictures would fall off the wall and one time I pan flew across the room and smashed through the pantry door. What happened all the time was the taps in the bathroom would always come on, one time I came home and the bathtub was full of water, when I reached into pull the plug out, I found there was no plug. The water was hot as, but the tap was freezing! My dad always said the bathroom and the bedroom next to it and the hallway always smelt of blood, but I didn't notice it."

Spike paused to catch his breath or dampen his lips.

"Anyway, the old lady who lived next door said that before us, an old spinster lived there, her niece was our landlord – she got the house after the woman died. But it turned out that the woman was pretty sick and demented but she wouldn't move out into a rest home, anyway, one day, maybe she was lucid, maybe she wasn't, she decided no one was going to take her from her house, she was born in that house and she was going to die there, she slit her wrists in the tub. So, maybe she was just mad at us for being in her home, or maybe she was angry that she was dead and couldn't enjoy her house anymore. I don't know. The old lady next door always said that if a place was haunted, it was either cos something horrid had happened there or the ghost was offended that someone was in their house or had unfinished business".

He ran his hand through his curly brown locks and looked down at the wine again, wondering if Chip thought he was insane.

"Unfinished business or an annoyance that someone else is there?"

"Yeah, seems to be the theme".

"So, what happened with that house?"

Chip asked.

"Well, my dad had a friend, a retired Catholic priest – he'd been the chaplain in his unit, he came and said some prayers, did some Catholic thing and hey presto, no more problems. Though, sometimes we had the feeling something was watching us, but there was none of that physical… manifestations I guess you could describe it as".

"Is that priest still alive?"

"Um, honestly, I don't know. He got sick after the war, and that's why he retired, something with Agent Orange or a chemical exposure was what my dad had said. I think he ended up in a rest home somewhere".

"Do you remember his name?"

"Ah… Father Simon… Steven… Samuel? Something like that, I think his last name was McKinnery, McInty, McGirr? I'm not sure. It was an Irish or Scottish kind of name, I remember that much. Sorry, Chip, I can't really rememb… hey… you know, there's a heap of photos my dad has and there's quite a few with that guy in them, maybe my dad wrote his name on the back of one of them".

"Great! Where can I get the photos!"

"You can't wait till I get back?"

"Sorry, Spike, this is a sort of need right now kind of situation".

"Ah… um… I think there's a few really big boxes, they're marked "photos" in a storage unit, that one on Pennly Drive. The key to the unit is on my desk in the study, its in a little dish by the computer with a bunch of other keys and small change. Its got a blue plastic tag with the number of the unit on it. I haven't been there in ages so hopefully its all okay".

Spike explained.

"Thanks so much, Spike! I really appreciate it, you know!"

"No problem, Chip, just fill me in to the rest of the story when I get back, okay. Anyway, I gotta go, just up town getting some supplies".

"Great! Well, you guys have a merry Christmas and give my best to Carly and I hope Daniel likes the present I got him".

"I'm sure he'll love it".

"He'll probably end up loving the box it comes in even more!"

The human scientist laughed. Spike joined in and it felt good to have a light hearted moment that day.

"Okay, well, merry Christmas to you, Chip, and don't let Perce rain on your parade with all his nonsense!"

"Oh, I think he'll be behaving himself!"

The two men shared another laugh before they gave their final closing and both hung up.

Spike looked at the phone, it felt warm in his hand from where it'd been resting against his ear, he shook his head and chuckled, placed the phone down and started the engine.

"Right, milk, pretzels and… whatever".

--

Author's NB: Sorry, I got writer's block, so I threw in 8 pages of dialogue. Hehe.