In the fanciest bed and breakfast on the outskirts of VicksburgMississippi, an older woman sniffed into her handkerchief as she stood beside her bed watching the motionless shell that had yesterday housed her husband. A few tears ran down her cheek as she pulled the covers up over the silent man laying there. Then her tears turned into a torrent as she wept in her hands. She wept for her husband. She wept for their marriage. And she wept for her future. How could she live without her husband and friend of forty-six years? Her beloved Stony.
CeCe sat next to the bed as her tears lessened. She thought about how they met way back during the time of Camelot when he desperately needed their services. How she had contacted Stony's long dead relative and helped him move on after they found the Confederate gold still hidden in secret tunnel after a hundred years. And that wonderful night he proposed to her under the magnolias here at Pemberton Oaks. And the life they had together. Those wonderful, wonderful times created by her love for life and his gentle Southern manner. Even though from Chicago, she loved playing the Southern hostess at their bed and breakfast. And then they took out a mortgage on his family estate to renovate the old Dixie Hotel downtown. Tourists came from all over to sit under the magnolias and ride the paddle wheelers on the mighty Mississippi. All was wonderful except they were never blessed with children. Life was peaceful and happy until six months ago when he was diagnosed with liver cancer. Despite a very short prognosis, Stony held on for six long months and last night without a sound he passed on. The one spirit next to her own that she didn't want to go over to the other side and he had gone voluntarily.
She sat up, pulled down her immaculate suit and picked up the phone to call the parlor. There was so much to do.
Following the departure of the hearse, she looked out as it drove away down the tree lined driveway. CeCe went back to the kitchen to make herself a cup of chamomile tea. She made it herself knowing that she would be on her own more frequently from now on. Pemberton Oaks was to be turned over to the local historical society as Stony wished. CeCe would have the large apartment they shared at the Dixie Hotel from which she could rein as the local matron and benefactress. She had many friends in Vicksburg, but they always seemed so old-fashioned. Not that they weren't about her age, however CeCe never felt that old. She could look at the calendar and look in the mirror and still see that even though the years had passed in her heart she still felt twenty-five. No thirty-five. Maybe forty at the outside, but she didn't feel or want an "active lifestyle" in an "up-and-coming" leisure community. She still looked very cute, with the same striking eyes and figure that hadn't changed that much in the last forty years.
Through her cloud of thoughts she heard the kitchen phone tinkle loudly.
"Marsha Mae, could you please get that?" she called out until she realized that she had sent everyone home.
CeCe got up and answered in a near whisper. "Pemberton Oaks. Filly Clements speaking," she said using her local nom-de-plume.
Sage was on the other end of the line. "CeCe? Is that you? Of course it's you. Believe it or not we're in New Mexico. Would you believe it? And have we got one wild ghost story to tell you and it really, really needs your expertise. Cyfer is here too!"
"Cyfer," she said almost choking. "Cyfer is there? Can I speak to her, pleaseeeeeee!"
"Sure," Sage said cheerfully. "Here you are."
"CeCe! How you doing, sis?" she asked full of cheerfulness and the excitement of the chase which made her feel years younger.
"Stony died last night!" she said straight out.
"CECE! My Lord. You must be devastated, sweetie. I'm so sorry!" she said. "Stony died last night," Cyfer said to Sage.
"Oh my God!" Sage gasped.
"How are you holding up?" Cyfer asked CeCe.
"I'm on automatic pilot right now. Too much to do. And kind of lost," she said. "Wish you were here."
"The Wells genie is going to grant your request. I'm going to book the next plane out of here, sis," she replied. CeCe needed her and she wasn't going to let her baby sister down. "That'll be nice. I need to see a friendly face. The funeral will be day after tomorrow. Most everything is already arranged. I've still got all these guests to worry about," CeCe sighed.
"Turn the house over to your staff. You need time to morn, sister dear," said Cyfer as she looked over at the rest of the Scooby team. "Look, I'll call you back as soon as I've made the arrangements. OK?"
"OK!" she whimpered.
"Take care. See you soon. Love ya always," said Cyfer.
"Same here. And th-thanks. Bye," CeCe said so quietly that Cyfer could barely hear her.
"Bye, sweetie," she said as she snapped close Sage's cellphone.
"Damn. Poor, poor little CeCe. That man meant everything to her. I KNEW something was wrong, but they never said a thing about it," said Cyfer shaking her head.
"Stony was very proud," lamented Sage
"Till the end. Well, I have to leave this little investigation and fly to over to Vicksburg," Cyfer said a bit too cheerfully.
Al came in "Leaving? Why?"
Cyfer pushed her hair back. "My sister's husband died."
"That would be Thomas Jackson Clements," said Al thinking hard without the help of Ziggy.
"Now how did you know all that? You must have know us from somewhere, Mr. Calavicci," she said, "…and I want to know or at least will find out. Later."
"I can not really say..." stammered Al.
"Like where else you came across ghosts before. The average person never sees or at least doesn't recognize those otherworldly spirits that pass through their lives," explained Cyfer.
"Again. In my line of business I see a lot of strange things," replied Al.
"Working for the Navy?" asked Cyfer. "Where? At the Bermuda Triangle Naval Base?"
"Retired actually, but still working for the good ol' U. S. of A." said Al proudly.
"Like in Roswell? You do live in New Mexico! No? Well, that's not the current problem. I am still going to help you, but my family needs me at the moment. We will still get your ghost, but I have to fly to VicksburgMississippi for a funeral," she said sadly. "And to comfort one very distraught sister," Cyfer thought.
"Pemberton Oaks," exclaimed Al Calavicci.
"Right again, sailor boy," piped in Cyfer. "And why?"
"We did a background check on your company," replied Al cautiously.
Cyfer shook her head. "I doubt that. Why would you be checking on the whereabouts of employees who haven't been with the firm for decades? Forget it for now. Anyway where is a computer? I need to book a flight," she asked.
"Are all of you going?" asked Al.
"Not unless they want to stay here. Nice as it is, I prefer greener climates," remarked Cyfer.
Al lit up and then inquired, "Since you plan to return how about a counter proposal? I have an old flying buddy who has an interest in a small airline over in Flagstaff. I bet you he'd let me fly all of you there personally. AND then back here when you're ready to proceed. Hopefully shortly thereafter."
"A pilot too? I'm impressed. Thought all you Navy guys sailed the seven seas. Sage, Chris? What do you think?" she asked sounding almost chipper.
"Fine with me. I'd really liked Stony," replied Sage. "And it might take a little personal appeal to get CeCe to come back here so soon after..."
Chris interjected, "Sage is right. Let's do it. I want to pay my last respects to Uncle Stony. Aunt CeCe is pretty cool."
Cyfer shook her head. "Cool? Yea, like a red hot chili pepper! Work your magic, Mr. Calavicci. Now where can I get something to wear to a funeral? Coming Sage?"
At 30,000 feet over Hot Springs, Arkansas Al Calavicci pushed a back from the controls and removed his headset. Stretching he nearly touched the roof of the cabin ceiling of the brand new Boeing S450. The sky was a perfect sapphire blue as the clouds raced by him at 560 miles an hour.
"Thanks for the chance, Firefly. I haven't logged any airtime for two years," sighed Al as he pulled out a cigar. "Damn, I miss the thrill of flying!"
"No problem, Benny. I haven't seen you in that... Hey! Put that coffin nail back in your flight suit, Admiral," he insisted.
"No matches. No light'em. I promise, Firefly. It just feels good in the hand," Al replied rolling it between his fingers.
"OK! That's all you better do with it. Like on the Constellation? NASA would have really freaked then," he laughed recalling their clandestine Apollo 19 mission. "You must have gone through a hundred of those little dowling sticks!"
"One little pleasure that never made that one giant leap. Can't even do it on the space station. Sigh! I tell you this bird handles like a dream for a plane wearing its civvies. How did you ever pull this one off the line?" Al asked as Firefly took over the controls.
"Never been on the line. She's brand new and needs another 100 hours flight time before the FAA will let Sun Air carry passengers in it. So your timing was perfect and I needed to get away from my wife's house projects and charity meetings. You have it right! NEVER retire!" he declared pushing on the controls and ascending another 2000 feet.
"Yea. I have still have excitement I must admit. Just too much lately," he said sighing heavily.
"And your friends needed the lift?" he asked putting the plane back on autopilot.
"New acquaintances. Advisory capacity really. And they were in the middle of a job," said Al.
"How do they fit into all that high level science you work with and don't really understand?" asked Firefly flashing Al a big "I know you" smile.
"I don't. Well, you're right. But I've got good people and they keep everything running in tiptop condition," explained Al.
"Still tip top secret?" he asked winking at Al.
"Yep. Things that would curl your hair. If you still had any," replied Al looking up at his follicle-challenged flight buddy.
"Like Nurse Heather back at Patuxent?" he reminded Al. Al and Firefly had been together through most of their Navy pilot training days and on the Hornet.
"A very nice lady. With a bottom that was tops," quickly remarked Al as a very nice picture filled his mind. "But you were dating the lovely Beth O'Dwyer at that time," he reminded Al.
Al rolled his cigar between two fingers a bit nervously. "Unfortunately I still had a few wild oats to sow, but that was …um," said Al. He could recall the toosh, but not the date of the romantic encounter.
"1961. Pushing half a century ago, fella. Though as long as I can fly, I'm going to live forever," he cried out finishing with a hearty chuckle.
"Um. This is a funeral shuttle flight, Firefly," Al reminded his former wingman and astronaut.
Firefly heard air traffic control contact him. "Roger, Little Rock. I'm handing off. Go tell your friends we'll be in at Vicksburg Municipal in 35 minutes if I take her up to 45,000."
"Just straight and narrow, hotshot. Let's not scare these already tense people with any acrobatics. And you can include me. Keep 'em flying! Later," said Al as he unbuckled himself and walked back into the passenger cabin.
Al and Beth rode hand-in-hand up to Pemberton Oaks. She had come with him since he didn't wish to leave her alone until the spiritual menace had vacated THEIR home. Even after all these years Al still remembered his earlier ghostly experience in this very house. And another reason was the death of CeCe's husband, Stony Clements. Sam had been him in that earlier time. Sam had leaped in, saved two of the Wells sisters and as an inadvertent consequence set this couple on a forty plus year journey together. And his death was a connection to his friend Sam. A very personal connection since at one time Sam had touched this place, this house and all the lives of those now attending the last rites of Thomas Jackson "Stonewall" Clements.
After passing through the canopy of trees covering the driveway, the taxi pulled up to the front doorway which was framed by several 25 foot high tall white pillars. A black wreath hung on the door as an eerie hushed feeling surrounded the house.
"Such a lovely home," sighed Beth. "It must be over a hundred years old."
"Built in 1834. Originally 3400 acres. Five generations of Clements have lived here," replied Cyfer quietly. Along with her head for figures, she had a passion for architecture and the history around buildings that appealed to her. And she also loved visiting her sister, though it was not nearly often enough. "And a very warm and loving rest stop. But sadly that seems all gone. Gone with the wind."
Cyfer lead them up to the front door and into the large main hall. A huge circular staircase wound up along the circular wall to the second story. Only a small desk next to the front door even hinted that this was a hotel and not a great Southern mansion. Antiques lined the walls. A large colorful wooden sign was mounted on the banister welcoming all visitors to Pemberton Oaks.
Al could still see Sam coming down the stairs as they chased the ghost of Colonel Clements though the house. He shook his head as the memories returned still bright and colorful and this time very, very solid.
A pretty forty-ish woman in a dark suit came from through the dining room doorway. Mrs. Marjory Sanderson was the manager of Pemberton Oaks.
"Why Mrs. Hettinger. Miss Peterson. Thank you for coming. It is a sad, sad day," she said shaking her head and then embracing them. She smiled at Chris, Al and Beth and welcomed them with a voice that sounded like Scarlet O'Hara herself was in their presence.
"Welcome to Pemberton Oaks. All of our guests have departed. There are rooms waiting for each of you. Mz. Clements is receiving guests in the parlor. This way please," she said ushering them into the next room.
"Guests? Now we're guests?" Cyfer whispered to Sage.
In a room draped with long curtains and Antebellum furniture on a small settee sat the mistress of the house, CeCe. She was in a long flowing traditional Southern dark blue gown that was still a bit low cut for mourning.
Even after all the years Al still found her flowing with sex appeal. She had not aged; she had come into her own. Standing up CeCe presented them her hand.
"Thank you for coming. Dear Sir. Loving Eunice. Sweet Sage. It is wonderful to see you all. Stony would have appreciated you honoring him with your presence," she said in a sweet Southern accent.
Cyfer approached CeCe, looked up into the sky and then shot her a look that would freeze the whole room. "Save the saccharine for the tourists, SIS! We both grew up on the Southside of Chicago. Remember?" she asked looking a bit peeved.
CeCe blushed slightly and then broke into a big grin. "Hey there, Cyfer," she said in a flat Midwestern accent. "The top 400 of Vicksburg have been stopping by all day. Stony was a big man in this town. And this was kinda expected. It's real good to see you, sis!" she said now crying in her arms. "And you to pseudo-sis!" she said taking Sage's hand while never letting go of Cyfer.
"You have my sympathies, CeCe," replied Sage. "Stony was a quite a guy!"
She stood up straight and wiped her eyes. "Thank you. But it was really a relief for him. He was in so much pain that last month," she said as she tried to reclaim her composure.
"And not a word about it," complained Cyfer.
CeCe shook her head. "Stony wanted it that way. It was a shock for his family and all of VICKSBURG."
"And you? How are you doing?" asked Sage.
"Better than I was. Just the lost part hasn't left me. And Chris. Thank you for coming," she said hugging her nephew.
"Good to see you, Aunt Filly," she replied.
"Filly, Felicity," Cyfer mentioned to Al. "That was her hubby's creation. Always wanted to take her out to the track every time I heard that! This is Al and Beth Calavicci."
"Well thank you for flying them down. I hear you have a spook to deal with," she said more professionally than conversationally. "These guys will take care of you I can assure you."
"And it's a pleasure to meet you. My sympathies," said Beth for both of them. Al nodded.
"Thank you. Mrs. Sanderson will show you to your rooms. Please explore the grounds. They are quite extensive. And dinner will be at six as always. She sat down, smoothed out her bellowing skirt and then sat up returning to her Southern posture.
"Come on guys!" said Cyfer.
"Explore the grounds?" asked Al.
"Well, there isn't a video game room in this house. Nor a single plasma television nor DVD player. This mansion is strictly nineteenth
century. Really charming though a bit too quiet and slow for some people. That's why CeCe had to escape to their 21st century apartment downtown from time to time. Personally I like the rustic atmosphere," explain Cyfer quietly looking around the high entrance foyer. "Without the ghosts, of course!"
Al whispered to Beth, "You know that was the room that Sam first leaped into," he said as she hushed him.
"We'll get settled and you can check on us, later," replied Beth as she elbowed Al.
"You bet. We're just down the hall two doors," chirped in Sage as they waved goodbye.
Inside the room Beth began to unpack. They had a medium size canopy bed and an armoire for their clothes. No closet, but a small bathroom built out of the wall. The whole theme of their room seemed to be a very green early spring morning somewhere along the mighty Mississippi.
Closing the doors of the armoire Beth turned to Al. "I still don't see why we're staying. Firefly has a cozy room at the Hyatt with a whirlpool downtown. We never met her husband, Albert," she said raising her voice ever so slightly.
"You may have never known him, but I at least met his hologram. He did visit us in the Waiting Room. As for Firefly, he's either working on a date for tonight or is making a killing on one of those gambling boats on the river. Either one or the other and he's in heaven," Al said as he pulled out his cigar. "Let's go out on the balcony."
"This is place is beautiful. And Sam leaped here a long time ago," said Beth taking his arm and laying her head on his shoulder. The dark green trees and slightly lighter green lawn spread out in front of them. Though maybe not the most romantic place, the view was breathtaking to the tired Beth. She may have no home at the moment, but she still had her arm wrapped tightly around her husband. And wherever he was … Well, that was home. Almost.
Al lit up and then took several deep puffs. "Beth, darling. Twice I've come across this guy Stony. Once with Sam playing him and once as a casual observer to our leap. Since Sam played him he's a part of our history and more importantly part of Sam's. Or is it Sam was part of him? I don't know. Right now it seems like the final chapter in one of Sam's leaps."
"What do you mean?" Beth asked slightly confused.
"There's nothing I can put my finger on. The end of his life. The end of someone we helped or someone who helped us. Part of a family we've saved and had a great affect on. Closure on my part or their part. Maybe just providing some comfort to the people who are helping us now. It's lingering in the back of my mind. I just can't put any words to it, Beth. I HAD to be here," he said loudly stomping his foot.
"And we had nowhere else to go at the moment. They can't finish our pest problem until afterwards," Beth reminded him. She had wanted to get away from their problem, but a funeral was not the destination she had in mind.
Al rolled the cigar in his hand. "Maybe. But for the most part I figured I had to be here for Sam. Let's go for a walk down by the river," suggested Al.
"I'd like that," sighed Beth.
"It was good to get away," Beth Calavicci thought. "Especially with him."
After a very crowded funeral and a smaller graveside service, a few close friends gathered for a memorial service in the parlor. Most everyone stood up to say something. Al and Beth just sat and admired all that he had done before Sam and leaped into him and everything that happened afterwards. If Sam's leap had failed, he would have had a much lesser impact on life running a tour agency down in New Orleans according to Ziggy. He had abandoned his haunted home after the death of Cyfer and Sue. Instead he married CeCe and became a pillar of the community and a credit to Sam's "making thing's right" policy.
Following the service, CeCe had her cook whip up some late night omelets since they had been on the run all day. Around the big kitchen table where her family and not her guests usually sat were Al, Beth, Sage, Cyfer and CeCe.
"Now we have to get back to the Calavicci's. Their poor house is still overrun by my old demon," lamented Cyfer.
CeCe took another bite. "I still don't see how it got to New Mexico," she said. "And where it's been these last umpteen years."
"It's only Al's reassurances and an awful lot of knowledge about it," said Cyfer. "HE won't tell me how. Big Government secret!" she said in a mocking whisper.
"As long as it vacates MY house, send it away. ANYWHERE," exclaimed Beth waving her hands toward the nearest door.
"Just not back to MY HOUSE. Got rid of it back during the Apollo era," she said half kidding.
"Very neat spacecraft," remarked Al.
"You flew them? You were an astronaut?" asked Sage as her eyes opened wide.
"Candidate. Never flew," he said though he had flown on the secret Apollo 19 mission.
"Very neat," exclaimed Chris. "You certainly get around, Mr. Calavicci."
"I see how the name matches, but you're clear across the country, unless he used the spiritual internet," suggested CeCe. "A celestial Lojack or a G.H.O.S.T.L.Y G.P.S."
"And he waited a long time. You said yourself you were being held in Vietnam at that time," Cyfer reminded the group.
"And a POW too? My nephew is right. You certainly do get around Al," said CeCe.
"That's partly where I get my experience and insight," replied the Admiral.
"I don't know of anytime that we ever failed our clients," recalled CeCe. "You're our scribe, Doctor Watson. What sayeth thee?"
"Well. I have published some of your old cases. I gotta a lot of time on my hands at the office. And your record was whatever and ZERO against these ghosts," reported the soothsayer Sage.
"See! And we did fail in MY OWN HOUSE," Cyfer said slightly peeved.
"We were a few years out of practice, my dear," said CeCe reminding her tense sister.
Cyfer threw up her hands. "It's like riding a bicycle, CeCe. You never forget!"
"Demon busting? A ride in the park? I don't think so. If my old memory serves me I guess by now you were trying to determine the reasons behind his haunt especially since he seems to be such a testy spirit," said CeCe trying to help out her sisters.
"Your ghost here almost tried to kill me!" Cyfer reminded us.
"And Stony saved you! But to continue, if you need to take him out I guess an old spiritual advisor could help out," replied CeCe.
"We were calling you about that when we got the news about Uncle Stony," replied Chris showing more than his usual deductive reasoning.
"So it wasn't a social call? Need help from the old seer, I see. Though I am kidding abut the old part," she emphasized. "Young at heart here. Now and forever!" she said almost breaking into an old standard.
Sage bobbed her head in agreement. "We really need the help, half-sis."
CeCe pierced her lips, looked up and then around and then roughly in the direction to the Clements family plot. "Gonna be awful lonely around here. Maybe I'll travel a bit. I hear New Mexico is lovely this time of year."
Beth was as about to disagree with her about the weather, but decided not to.
Chris jumped up. "Then you'll help us?"
"Don't be so surprised. This isn't the first time, my darling nephew. Remember us in LA and then that time outside of Cleveland. I haven't lost my touch. Just MY HUSBAND. May he finally rest in peace," she sighed loosing her slightly better mood.
"Mrs. Clements. CeCe. We have to takeoff by 1000 hours, that's 10 AM tomorrow for home," said Al.
"Fine. I think I'll call it a night. Maybe cry on my pillow a bit. I will be ready bright and early in the morning, Mr. Calavicci. I look forward to the trip," she said still looking in the direction of the cemetery.
"Need any company?" asked Cyfer as Sage joined her.
"No. I'm fine," she said smiling and standing up. After two steps to the door she turned around holding up one finger. "Though on the other hand, a little sisterly support might be in order. I'd think I'd LOVE the company."
"Make that two?" asked Sage.
"ALL my sisters," she shot back "Good night all!" she said nearly sparkling.
Al and Beth were startled by the change in attitude of the recent widow.
"You see, she gave up her sisters when she married Uncle Stony. Now he's gone. Maybe she just wants her family back," said Chris thinking out loud.
Al remembered that if Sam had not saved Cyfer, she would have been all alone all these years.
Beth sighed and took Al's hand tightly. "Family. That's what it's all about!"
Dressed in a long black suit still mourning her decreased husband, CeCe sat in Al and Beth's bedroom. Space had been cleared so she could sit and think. Think and reach out to the spirit. The rest of the ghost hunting crew watched from the hallway. Al, Beth, Cyfer, Sage, Chris and Sammy Jo all crushed together in the hallway waiting and watching for something to happen. With the exception of Sammy Jo and Beth, everyone believed she had the capability to do it, but would she be able to help this nefarious spiritual entity?
CeCe had honed her skills over the years and instead of wandering the site looking for some recognition or sign she had evolved into a caller of spirits. This was not the sideshow crystal ball reading charlatan, but a true conduit between the real world of believers and nonbelievers and the spiritual world of the afterlife. But even more important was that the spirit she wished to contact must want to be contacted.
She waved her hand in front of her in never-ending figure eights trying to feel for any psychic vibrations. Her eyes were closed gently as her mind reached out into the room and the spiritual ether surrounding her.
"Erik! Erik! Do you hear me?" she chanted over and over again. Ten, twenty, thirty times she chanted. For twenty minutes she continued, never tiring, never wavering. Finally her head turned slightly to the left as if she heard something. No one in the hallway noticed anything unusual.
"Erik! Erik! Is that you?" asked CeCe raising on eyebrow, but never opening them. "Come to me. We wish to speak with you. Erik, Erik van Dusen. Come to me. Speak to me. Come to me. Speak to me," she continued for another ten minutes.
Beth had had enough. She excused herself and left CeCe's cheering section. "This is getting us nowhere," she said quietly to herself. Taking four steps from the group she got a sudden chill that she recognized. The green floating mist came toward her and passed through her. She yelped as the others turned toward her.
"Beth!" exclaimed Al as the mist came straight at them. They pulled back into the hallway as the mist passed by giving everyone except Cyfer a cold chilly shiver.
"All right you crazy green fogbound ghost. Give us a sign so we can point you to the exit," Cyfer cried out loud.
Al grabbed onto Beth and took her back to their hallway. "Easy, sweetie," he said quietly to her.
The green mist entered the bedroom and began to circle CeCe. The temperature in the room plummeted as eyes a surprised look came to CeCe's face.
"There you are!" she said suddenly and then returning to her more mystical jargon, "Erik, you have honored us with your presence."
Al mumbled something that was best not repeated to the ghost about true honor.
"Speak to us, Erik. Tell us of your needs and wants. Tell us of the reason you reside in the House of Calavicci," she said repeating it twice.
Sammy Jo's mouth turned up as she had a strange thought that that sounded like the best Italian restaurant in San Francisco.
CeCe continued, "Speak to us spirit of Erik van Dusen. Why are you here? Why do you…"
"Pain. Much pain!" came a creepy voice that startled even the psychic herself. "P-p-p-ain!" he moaned.
"And why are you in pain, Erik?" she asked.
"Sorrow. Long, long sorrow," the voice creaked sounding like the mildew and goo smell that permeated the room.
"Pain and sorrow. Sorrow and pain!" wailed the spirit.
Cyfer gritted her teeth. "We know. Now get on with it! Why pain for crying out loud?"
"Pain. Pain for the young ones. Distress for the young ones," he moaned. The mist seemed to pulsate as it spoke growing lighter and darker.
Beth shot in. "Then his kids are in pain? Physical or emotional?" she asked.
"No. Pain from within. Pain from the spirit," he answered. "Erik is in pain."
"Anybody know how to get Advil over the other side?" asked Cyfer. "OK. He's not doing well because of his emotional involvement with his kids. Can he be more specific?"
Al agreed, "Yes. How do we help him out? Jeez, not one of my Navy buddies would believe this. I still don't think I do. CeCe get into it. What will cure his …um wandering around my house."
"No livelihood. No dowry. Nothing left for them. Gone. All gone. Woe to the little ones," he moaned circling around and around the bedroom.
"Sounds like the poor thing is worried that he couldn't provide for his family. That's kind of sweet," said Sage strangely.
"Sweet? Since when did monetary matters transcend death? Love and emotions are usually what drive them to try and stay in this life. Not the almighty dollar, though it does comes in pretty handy here," admitted the logical Cyfer.
"So we need to prove that we can pay off his descendents?" Al checked his comm link. "Ziggy how much would Erik von Dusen's business concern be worth in today's dollars?"
"48 billion dollars, Admiral!" replied Ziggy unemotionally.
"Who that hell was that?" asked Cyfer the accountant.
"Our business associate connected us up to our calculating computer, Cyfer," explained Al. "Nothing, but an overpriced overcomplicated
calculator."
"That was one hell of a fast present value determination since the shipping business has changed so much in 150 years," remarked Cyfer who had been the firm's accountant. "I could have used him years ago."
"Yea, ain't that a kick in the butt. As to paying off the ghost, nix to the blackmail." remarked Al. "No one is gong to come up with that much moola."
Sage suggested, "CeCe, let him know that all of his "little ones" have moved on and so must he can do the same."
CeCe nodded her head. "Erik. Erik. Your children are no longer in this life. They have gone to THEIR rewards. Follow them. Join them. Find them and you will find peace," she said joyfully cheering him on.
The mist of the spirit began to pulsate growing darker and moaning even louder. The atmosphere in the bedroom grew even more agitated.
"No more. No more little ones. Woe and pain and pain and woe. No more. No more," he continued to moan without stopping.
"That didn't help much," said Cyfer. "He is getting even…"
"Madder!" interjected Al. "OK. Now asked him what will make him move on."
CeCe posed the question.
The entity froze. There was a long pause. "Death!" was his reply.
"To whom?" asked Sage as Al shivered.
"Death to Calavicci!" was the even more chilling reply.
Beth almost fainted as Al closely looked at his nemesis. Beth recovered and spoke, "Albert. Come on. Let's go. This is too dangerous," though she really didn't completely believe a threat from a moving green mist, but she wasn't going to lose Al.
"Hold it baby!" replied Al.
The green thingy hovered near him, but didn't disturb him.
"I'm not being scared from my own domicile." cried Al "Hey Casper. Hit the road!"
Cyfer comforted her sister. "Mr. Calavicci. It might be best if you let us deal with it."
CeCe sat up and held her head "I agree. He was just so intense. Most ghosts' emotions are only shadows of their life counterparts. His was strong and then grew in intensity."
"That was when he learned of his kids' fate," suggested Sage.
"Yea. That's it. Now we have to get rid of him before he turns into a full-fledged poltergeist," explained Cyfer.
"He already has the bed shaking and chain rattling part down. I'm more worried about him doing worst stuff. You never know what they are capable of," replied CeCe.
Al interrupted. "Well, I'm only a mere mortal, Cyfer. He can follow me all the rest of my days."
"True," admitted Cyfer.
"Albert, I don't want to have to deal with that threat," said Beth slowly.
"So let him get to me and find out I'm not the same guy," suggested Al.
"That won't work. Van Dusen was already dead when Rufus died in 1887," explained Cyfer looking through her notes.
"Maybe. But I'm willing take a chance," said Al. "Anything to finish this business!"
"No! You will not, love!" exclaimed Beth as the walls began to rattle
as more goo oozed from the walls.
CeCe perked up. "I sense an increased level of discontent!"
"He's getting even madder," translated Al as CeCe nodded and agreed with him.
"Can't we try and charm him?" asked Sage. "He's a man."
"No, he lost that 150 years ago. All that's left seems to be his emotions," said CeCe. "Pure raw energy."
"And a pretty good moving capability. Distance, chairs, goo!" quipped Cyfer.
"CeCe?" asked Al. "Help me talk to him directly. Please."
She sighed heavily. "We can try, but he could also get rough or even injure or kill you."
Al took a defensive stance. "I'm not running from a fight. Never had. Never will!" said Al pursing his lips.
"But you never stood in front of a train either, Albert" suggested Beth.
"But the train never left the tracks and followed me for eternity either. I went through hell before and this is not going to deter me, Elizabeth!" exclaimed Al who could not be moved from his chosen path.
"Hell?" asked Cyfer nervously.
Beth replied, "He was held by the North Vietnamese for six years! Two of those he spent in solitary confinement. Never broke him though he does still have nightmares."
Al approached CeCe. "Now what do I do?"
"Never led someone through this before. I've always been the AT&T thingy. Now take my hands. Let's sit down," CeCe said as the ghost hovered over them. The room seemed to grow darker.
"Albert. Be careful," said Beth quietly.
Al looked up. "That's my middle name!"
"You don't have one!" she retorted.
"We'll open up our minds. Can I call you, Albert?" she asked.
"Al! Make it short especially in a crisis. Saying Calavicci takes too long and could kill me," he said taking her hands.
"Very well, Al. Hold on tightly. Open up your mind to new possibilities. Open it to the spirit. Open it to another world, another existence. Open it up to a universe of possibilities and probabilities. Al. Can you see that?" she asked.
"Not too hard," said Al who had been looking through other times and dimensions for years with Quantum Leap.
"Lose this existence," she said soothingly. "Leap from this place with your mind."
"But don't go too far," sighed Beth as she held onto Sammy Jo's hand tightly.
"I think I feel it. I see something. More. I see more than this room. It is opening up," exclaimed a surprised Al.
"I feel it too. We are leaving, Al," she said soothingly.
"I see you and me. We're floating over and looking down. I see everyone including me!" exclaimed an astonished Admiral Al Calavicci.
Now Al was no longer speaking. He was in a deep trance to his friends, but he was in constant contact with CeCe who was floating beside him.
"Whoa. This is great. I'm flying! Well, not flying, but as close as I can without a plane!" he said joyfully.
"We are hovering between life and death, Al. Between his world and ours," she explained.
"Where's death?" asked a nervous Calavicci looking around for the guy with the scythe.
"Nearby. Not visible, but close by. Can you sense the captain?" she asked.
"Yea. A hell of lot of pent up frustration," admitted Al.
"Anger? Feel the anger?" asked CeCe.
Al reached out and found the feelings of the entity. "Good lord. And it's all directed toward me!"
The mind of the ghost got closer. Al could feel the increase in emotions.
"Listen Erik. Listen to this man. He is a good man," explained CeCe solemnly.
"No more talk. I must act!" the ghost said.
"How?" asked Al.
"I must have revenge. Revenge on the Calavicci," he yelled in the ethereal world.
"That's not me. But why are you coming after me?" asked the Admiral.
"To atone for the sins," he moaned.
"Erik. This is not the man. He is long gone. Like your children he has moved on. And if you move on then you can see them all," explained CeCe.
"All I share with him is his last name, um.. Erik," he said not sure how to address a ghost. "Sir Spirit?" he thought.
"No! Much too long. Need revenge. Need rest," he sighed.
"If it's a holiday you're looking for I heartily recommend heaven. Eternal rest, friends, peace. Don't forget all that peace!" said Al doing his best sales pitch.
"Erik. Go to your eternal rewards. You have had pain too long. Try rest," she pleaded.
"Read my mind, ghosty! I'm not the one. I don't know this slime ball that hurt you," replied Al.
"No. Must have mind settled and then rest," he approached Al who mentally moved back. He reached out, but only to look where the entity was.
"Can't you see? There must be hundreds of Calavicci's in the country. Thousands throughout the world. And they are all unrelated or don't knew of their great-great-grandfather's business dealings. They are NOT at fault. I am NOT at fault," Al pleaded with the green apparition.
CeCe continued, "…and YOU are NOT at fault. What happened
was long ago. The world has moved on. You must move on, Erik. Let go and forget. And then you can have your rest!"
"First no pain. Revenge. And then rest," he announced ever so menacing.
"Erik, I can't help you. And my death would neither solve your problem nor bring back you or your kids. Too much time has passed. Just like you passed away, so did the world you knew. Not just the people, but things and even ideas have changed," explained Al cautiously.
"And Erik, you don't have to forgive, just forget. No one is left to forgive. You have worried for them. Now worry no more," suggested CeCe.
"Nooooooooo, mustn't forget," he moaned.
"You won't be forgotten. Your family won't be forgotten. We're here," replied CeCe.
"Yes," Al said. "We'll remember FOR YOU!"
"The world will hear. The world will know. Our storyteller will spread the word, Erik. People will remember!" she said sounding joyful.
The reverberations in the air seemed to die down. "Not be forgotten?" he asked them.
"Yes, Erik. The world will not forget. I promise!" she said.
"And that goes doubly for me, Erik. I will make sure it's broadcasted or rather posted … like in your time…everywhere. On trees. Poles, barns, stores, churches," Al said describing how the word got out in his day. The Internet wouldn't mean much to him.
"Remember, will be remembered?," he said without a bit of pain or anger.
"Now I feel peace," said CeCe. "Peace and joy!"
"Yea, I feel it too!" exclaimed Al. "Is everything OK?"
"Erik, are you finished here? Can you now move on to heaven?" asked CeCe.
The spirit didn't reply. There was silence as he started to drift away. Further and further he went from where CeCe and Al floated in the ether.
"It is done. We must go Al. It is time," said CeCe. "Follow me! Follow my mind!"
"I even feel peaceful myself," said a joyous Al.
"You feel his joy. He feels your relief. The feelings here are a cumulative product of all those present. And because of his disturbance we were all affected. Time to go. Now drift down Al. Seek out your body," she said as they floated down still holding on together.
"Like all women before me," he quipped feeling better.
Al went down and opened his eyes. He let go of CeCe's hands as she also awakened.
"It's done. It's over," he said stretching the creaks from his aching bones. Reaching up he embraced his wife. "It's OK, baby. He's gone. We have reclaimed our home!"
She sighed and looked up. The green mist drifted away through the wall leaving one last brown patch.
CeCe stood up and looking very dignified announced, "He has fled. The house is cleansed."
"Time will truly tell," replied Al.
"Thank God," sighed Beth. "And thanks to all of you!"
Cyfer looked perky. "That's our job and that's one ghost I'm glad to see finally gone. He better not show up again or I'll personally blow him into a billion spiritual bits."
CeCe sighed, "It worked. There still is one more thing, Sage. We had to make a deal with the ghost."
"What did you give him now, my soul?" she asked looking a bit nervous.
"NO. A book deal. You have to write about it so the world will not forget about the Captain, his problem and especially his children. He left because we told him that the world would remember," explained CeCe.
Sage turned down the side of her lip. "Not exactly New York Times Best seller material, but if I don't I might also find myself on his spiritual hit list."
"You're the local scribe," Cyfer reminded her.
"Fine, fine, fine. Give me the details and we'll take make this guy famous," she complained.
Beth suggested, "And maybe with some fictitious names and places. I don't want Stallions' Gate to turn in to Amityville."
And Al didn't want any more notoriety around his Quantum Leap Project.
"Fine. Whatever. This whole thing took place in Ogden, Utah!" she said hypothetically.
Cyfer broke in, "You can't change everything or you won't be telling his story. That was the deal!"
"Now you're an expert on interdimensional law? So I'm going to write this little book with a ghostly editor looking over my shoulder? Don't I have enough problems with Random House trying to convince them that the things I'm reporting aren't fiction stories like the stuff you write?" she asked looking sad.
"And what's wrong with what I write?" she said half-kidding.
"People know that you're in the fiction business and everyone thinks that I am. Doctor Watson never had these problems!" she said throwing her hands up.
"Doctor Watson was fictional sweetie. That why he DIDN'T have those problems," Cyfer shot back as they all laughed.
CeCe put herself back together again looking like the matron of Vicksburg. "That was quite the experience. I never felt anything as intense before. Not just words, but true raw emotions."
"He was quite determined," said Sage.
"And he crossed space and time somehow," said Cyfer looking over at Al. "And how is that, Albert?"
CeCe looked a bit particular. "When Al and I were sharing thoughts and saw everything."
"Everything?" asked Al as he dropped his cigar.
"Well everything that seemed related to our experience, I saw all of us long ago. Back when I first me Stony," said CeCe drained of emotions.
Cyfer walked up to her. "How so? Our case with the long suffering Colonel Clements?" She looked at Al who turned a shade paler.
"There was this vision of us walking around looking for clues with Stony. My Stony helping out. But it wasn't him. It seemed to be Al and someone else guiding us. Leading us to the right direction until that strange business with the porch when he or rather this guy named Sam saved you and Sue."
Al looked away when she quoted Sam's name.
"And the strange part is I saw two outcomes. One where Cyfer and Sue were saved and another when they died. I was distressed and didn't live long after that. Something about a drug overdose! Weird. Two possibilities!"
"Two futures. Probability and outcome. Right, Al?" asked Sage.
Al said nothing.
"I studied this a bit in some of our cases. Infinite dimensions due to infinite possibilities. And that must have been the intersection of two of the dimensions or possibilities. That's why you saw two different destinies, CeCe," suggested Sage.
Al breathed easier while Sage seemed heading down some different path away from Quantum Leap.
"Forget the math, Einstein. That sounds all like theory. What was the difference in the two destines?" asked Cyfer.
"I thought I explained it. But then I'm not a PhD in physics. I don't even have a four year degree. But I READ a lot. Somehow being saved created the two destinies or possibilities or dimensions. And whoever was there not only saved you, but knew about the problem ahead of time. They were probably from the future having known the outcome."
"Bingo!" went the alarm in Al's head. Sage had gone around Robin Hood's barn and almost reached the truth.
"And why were you in CeCe's vision, Al?" asked Sage.
"Yea, and why did you appear to me in 1961 and 1970, Mr. Calavicci?" asked Cyfer. "Twice is not a coincidence!"
"Actually if it is only twice that would be a coincidence. You need many more data points before you can establish a regularity or pattern," said Sammy Jo.
"We're not measuring temperature here! This was a sighting of the complex character of a human being. And if you were appearing in 1970, then you must have been coming from some other time. You said yourself that you were in prison then. And how did my ghost move across time and space? Mr. Calavicci, what is the truth? You have to tell us!" exclaimed Cyfer who was almost ranting.
"Is sure appears that way," said Chris.
"And you were changing us, helping us, manipulating us from the future? Is that or is not true? And none of your national security bull!" yelled Cyfer.
"I guess you caught me. I can't deny eyewitness accounts, but just between us. Cyfer. This can't go beyond us! I have a friend who did help you out back in 1961!" explained Al.
Sammy Jo looked on, but remained silent.
"And he saved my life?" asked Cyfer.
"Yes," he agreed. "At that time he was Stony Clements. CeCe's husband. We also helped you in 1970. Then he was Sage. We
vanquished your ghost, but he must have heard me and followed me home. This is dangerous business talking to you civilians like this," admitted Al.
"And what business is that?" asked Cyfer.
"Business that helps others. I'll admit your case. Just no more details," said Al. "I can't explain it further!"
"And you run around time changing things?" asked Sage. "As me?!"
"For the better. Changing things for the better. Usually. As other people change so did the future events they were involved in," explained Al.
"Couldn't it also be used for bad things?" asked Chris.
"That's why it's best a secret, Cyfer. You benefited. Chris, well. Chris wouldn't even exist without our intervention," explained Al.
"That would give me a headache just trying to figure out the concept that I never existed," moaned Chris.
"And due too your special gifts and powers that why I had to come to you three. Thank you," said Al.
"You're welcome," replied Cyfer.
"Anytime," replied Sage. "At least I was around without you guys in either reality."
"And you gave me something to wonder about for the rest of my life!" remarked Cyfer. "It still seems almost like a god-like power over all of us."
Sammy Jo finally said, "We've got that covered too. The choices that come to us are not in our hands."
"Life! Do I want to sit around and have life come to me or do I want to experience the same intensity I did here today?" asked CeCe.
"We did worked together well, didn't we CeCe?" asked Sage. "Team Wells!"
"Well sorta. We kind of reconstituted ourselves," said Cyfer.
"You are all quite experienced, my dear Aunts," said Chris. "And Mom too!"
"Yea, I might be interested in doing this again. Though not here. Our work is done here!" said Cyfer.
"Thank God," sighed Beth.
"You want to get back in the game, Mom?" asked Chris.
"Yea, whether I'm nostalgic or bored I think I've renovated that house enough. Got a place in your organization for one old ghost hunter?" she asked curiously.
"Absolutely!" replied Sage.
"And maybe I'll take the advice I gave that ghost and move on also." said CeCe
"To where?" asked Cyfer cutely.
"That was enough of a rush that I could see myself doing it again. And I think my life in Misses Ippi is done without my Stony. I'm getting on in years and maybe I'll spend the rest of them with you guys!" she said hugging them both.
"Looking to move in with me?" asked Cyfer.
"Maybe. Or maybe I'll still keep my place in Vicksburg for a rest bit and to see old friends. But you're my family again!" she said. "And I need you all!"
"Always were. Always will be!" replied Cyfer.
"And me?" asked Sage
"Sister of the heart. Sage you're still my oldest and dearest friend," she said hugging her.
"I don't like the sound of the oldest part. But we've really gotten up there haven't we?" asked Sage.
Cyfer pulled the two of them together. "But we'll always have each other and this work will keep us young."
"I'm so glad it worked out!" said Sage
Chris added, "It is going to be great working with all of you!"
"All's well that ends Wells!" quipped Cyfer as the other two sisters moaned.
"Come on! We have to get home. We've got some planning to do," said Cyfer. "This has been quite an experience. Ghost and all that other stuff too."
The Wells girls went out arm-in-arm toward their own future adventures.
Later Beth and Al sat quietly in Donna's guest room and sat before a roaring fire.
"Quite an adventure?" asked Beth.
"Yea, but it would have helped if Sam was here. He's been through more of these hocus pocus scenarios at close range than you and I," sighed Al.
"Chock it up to more life experiences to help him out. Al you've had more of them than most as they pointed out," Beth reminded her husband.
"That's true, but at least the rest of them were in concrete reality. Not some ethereal place in the beyond," complained Al.
"Even Sam's trips have a certain psychic quality to them. He's not just chugging away on a Time Express," suggested Beth.
"Yea, but another thing. Maybe I should look into my past. Never thought much about it," admitted Al. "Give something to pass onto my kids."
"That would be an interesting project," replied Beth.
Al's open comm link quickly replied. "Admiral. I've already traced your real family back six generations."
"SO much for that lunch time project. Thanks Ziggy. I think," hesitated Al.
"You're welcome. Admiral, I have full biographies on all your ancestors. Now care to hear about any of your obsidian ovis canadensis?" asked Ziggy.
"Um, my what?" asked Al still recovering.
Beth thought for a minute. "I think he means the black sheep in your family."
"I believe that is what I said quite clearly," replied Ziggy very indignantly.
"And I always thought I had claimed that title in the Calavicci family," said Al breaking into a new cigar. "Come on, sweetie. Let's get to bed. Everything else tomorrow. But then for TONIGHT!"
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh, Mr. Calavicci!"