Chapter Twenty-Two

Your Place Or Mine

Bored with the kite, the kids had found their way up into the attic. They looked for the Captain but he wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Wonder where he's gone," Jonathan pondered as he poked into every corner. "He told Mum he was gonna confine himself to quarters until after the workmen have gone. So, he won't cause no trouble or make them scared. Mum made him swear."

"Maybe he's got more than one quarters," Candy replied reasonably as she pulled on a long red cloak and put a tiara on her head.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "This is his quarters. He hasn't got any others." He grinned. "Unless he's decided to go down to Claymore's and live there instead. That I'd like to see! It'd make the old skinflint go green!"

"Oh, Claymore would love that!" Candy giggled. "How do I look?" She posed in her cloak and glittering headwear.

"Silly!" her brother replied shortly. "But you should wear that lot for the school play tonight! You could show off and show up Penelope Hassenhammer!"

"Not a chance!" Candy replied. "Penelope Hassenhammer wanted to be the queen. Since Mark's playing the king, she can kiss him with my blessing. I'm happy just being a palace servant."

"Me too," Jonathan agreed.

Both kids laughed as they began to rummage in a big sea chest. Jonathan threw aside some material and pulled out a naval dress sword complete with scabbard and tassels.

Scruffy immediately seized on the cord connected to the tassels. He pulled it backwards and growled. He'd always enjoyed a good tug of war.

"Hey, Scruffy!" Jonathan commanded, keeping tight hold of the scabbard. "Let it go! The Captain will get mad at us for touching his stuff! We gotta put it back right now!"

But the dog hung on, growling and shaking his head as he darted forward. The kids went backwards together and crashed into a standard lamp which fell over.

"Aw, heck!" Jonathan dumped the sword and made a grab for the lamp, but he was too late.

Down below, in the kitchen, Harvey was up a ladder sorting out the wiring for an overhead light. "What's that?" he asked fearfully. "Did you hear that?" he demanded of Peevey.

"I heard a thump," Peevey replied calmly as he pulled an electrical cord from the wall. "A little thump, Harv. All houses have thumps and things."

"Ah, ha…" Harvey grimaced disbelievingly at the simple explanation.

Up in the attic, Scruffy was pleased to have won the sword. He turned and ran away with the cord still in his mouth and dragging the weapon behind him.

"Hey!" the kids shouted. "Come back here with that!" They ran after their pet and out of the attic.

The dog wasn't listening as he trotted along the hall and down the first flight of the stairs, still dragging the sword behind him. It bounced and clanked along.

Still up the ladder in the kitchen, Harvey looked around fearfully. "Hear that?" he demanded. "Those are chains! You know who drags chains, don't ya? The g-g-g-…" His face paled to white.

"Will you cut it out, Harv!" Peevey snapped. "Now you're gettin' me all nervous!" He looked all around as he walked to the open kitchen door to work on the light switch beside it.

The kids ran down the stairs, still pursuing their pet. They caught up with him on the small landing.

Candy threw the baseball she pulled from her pocket. "Here, Scruffy…" she enticed. The ball bounced its way down each step.

In the kitchen, Harvey screamed in fear as he fell down his ladder. "He's comin'! He's a-comin' afta us, Ed! Run!" He tossed his tools and sprinted from the house while Peevey stood looking up at the ceiling.

Finally, even his courage failed him. "Wait for me, Harv!" He too ran from the house. "I'm a-comin' wiv ya! I ain't stayin' 'ere alone, all by myself!"

Up on the stairs, the kids stared after the two disappearing workmen. They looked worriedly at each other.

"I think we'd better get scarce too," Candy said wisely, as she pulled off her tiara and cloak. "Mum ain't gonna be too pleased we scared off her workmen before they've even begun. And we better put everything back just the way we found it. Or the Captain will be mad at us too."

"Yeah…" Jonathan hurried down to fetch the ball and discarded sword. "Come on, Scruffy, we'll put all this back and then go down to the beach for a bit. We'll pretend just like nothing happened."

※※※※※

Carolyn had decided she was better off outside. She chose to work on her garden. She was seated on the planter beside the front gate when Harvey ran past her.

"Goodbye, Mrs Muir!" he shouted back over his shoulder. "I heard chains clankin' and footsteps! It was the G-g-g-g…"

"Mr Burrows?" Carolyn stood up.

Peevey came running after him. She grabbed his arm. "Mr Peevey. What happened?"

"I'm not sure, Mrs Muir. But we sure ain't takin' no chances! Harv said he heard chains a-clankin' and then footsteps!" He ran after his workman. "We're makin' darn sure nothin's gonna get us!"

They both jumped into the truck and roared away down the road. Carolyn was left to stare after them in confusion.

She turned back to the house. "I think I know what happened," she muttered as she pulled off her gardening gloves and threw them aside. "He just couldn't help himself. He's still peeved that the work needed doing."

She marched into the house. "Captain?" she challenged the silence. "Captain?"

Receiving no answer, she walked into the living room. Again, there was no sign of any ghostly presence. She was about to go upstairs to the attic when she heard the rustle of a newspaper coming from the alcove.

"Ah ha!" She charged through the velvet curtains to find a very contented-looking ghost seated on the couch reading the daily newspaper. "Captain! I'd like to have an urgent word with you."

He looked up in surprise. "I'm all ears. You seem a little piqued, my dear. Is something the matter on board? Anything I may assist you with?"

"I am not piqued!" Carolyn folded her arms.

"Good…" He eyed her with wary concern.

"I'm absolutely furious! How could you?" she accused. "We had an agreement. I thought you always kept your word!"

"We did and I do!" the Captain retorted. "What lying bee has flown up inside your bonnet, Madam? You're accusing me of base treachery."

Carolyn set her balled hands on her hips. "Well, you broke your word! You frightened my workmen clear out of the house! They must be halfway back to town by now!"

"I did no such thing!" he huffed as he shook out his newspaper. "I haven't moved from this spot for over an hour. I have been happily perusing the news. A church mouse isn't as quiet as I have been."

Carolyn stared at him warily. "You didn't creak or groan, or clap your thunder? Rattle any chains?"

"Of course not," he replied loftily. "I do not do chains."

"But they said you were after them. Or, at least, I think that's what they said. They were certainly in a great hurry to leave. And there's no one else here, but you. The children are outside playing and Martha's in the back garden. And they all know I want the work completed as soon as possible."

The Captain stared at her. "Am I to be blamed every time a quivering squib jumps at his own shadow?"

"You're sure that's all it was?" Carolyn asked.

"Madam!" The Captain rose to his full height. "Do you doubt my veracity?"

"Well…" Carolyn spread her hands. "Something scared them out and you're the logical —"

The Captain interrupted her. "Very well. I shall remove myself, at once, from the combat area." He folded his newspaper and threw it down.

"Thank you!" Carolyn snapped as he vanished. She looked around. "Well, don't go away mad."

The Captain returned behind her. "I am not mad." He vanished again.

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "I see…"

He reappeared right in front of her and leaned closer. "A little hurt, perhaps. But I am not mad!" He vanished again.

Carolyn took two steps, and he came back behind her a second time. "But not mad. That is a pathetically human emotion." He vanished again.

Carolyn glared after him. "Will you stay in or out? You're making me dizzy!"

"Madam…" replied his disembodied voice. "I shall move out until the kitchen work is finished. That way you cannot accuse me again of meddling in your repairs. Which I did not!"

"I'll believe that when I don't see it!" Carolyn threw up both arms. "Now I have to go and phone Mr Peevey and try to entice him back. Or Martha will be the next one to walk out because her kitchen is being destroyed."

She threw aside the velvet curtains. "I'm sure, by now, Peevey's phoned Claymore. The terror tax will have already been doubled!"

Receiving no answer and no sign of the ghost, she stalked off back into the living room with her head held high. But by the time she reached the kitchen, her heart was already quaking with regret and remorse. She was deeply aware she'd been too hasty to accuse.

"I'm sorry…" she said to the silence. "I didn't mean it…"

Of course, there was no answer and no sign of the Captain. He was keeping to his word of leaving them alone to get on with the work.

"Blast…" Now she couldn't take her words back. It was already too late.

※※※※※

Claymore was seated on the side of his fold-out couch bed, listening to the telephone he held pressed to his ear. His shoes had been discarded; newspapers were scattered across the floor and the half-eaten remains of a plated early evening lay discarded on the coffee table.

He looked glum and then revived. "Oh yes! I thought our discussion over lunch yesterday was most fruitful, Miss Rutledge. When may I hope to see you again, please?"

He listened to the woman's reply and suddenly looked uneasy. "Sailing?" His face fell. "On the water? Do you really make deals at sea? But it'll be Sunday tomorrow. Surely you rest on the Lord's Day."

He didn't notice the Captain had appeared behind him. His great-uncle stalked forward, looking less than pleased with the situation.

"Oh, no, no!" Claymore continued. "I'm naturally a good sailor! Oh, ho, no! You see, the sea runs in the Gregg blood, Miss Rutledge! Ah, ha. Until tomorrow then…" he cooed. "A Sunday sail would be lovely…"

Behind him, the Captain dropped his face into his hand. He tried not to listen to the drivel his great-nephew was talking.

"Nightie, night…" Claymore compounded his drivel with sweet words.

He chuckled gleefully and hung up the receiver. He felt buoyed up with hope and good thoughts for his immediate future. He was slowly winning the difficult Miss Rutledge around.

He sighed. "Who needs a fickle Cornell, when you have a sweet and willing Rutledge…"

"So, the sea runs in the Gregg blood, does it?" the Captain asked thoughtfully.

"Ah, ha," Claymore agreed, still basking in the anticipated glow of the money he was going to make. "That's what I said…"

Then he jumped to his feet and spun around as realisation gripped him. "Ohhh… What are you doing here?"

"You flotsam-faced fake!" The Captain rounded the end of the bed. "The only water in your blood is on your knee!"

Claymore backed up. "Oh, yes, Sir! Anything you say, Sir! Why are you haunting me, Sir?"

"Because, my dear fellow, since you've always maintained you're my only living relative, I have decided to become your houseguest until further notice. I thought it was beyond time we got to know each other better. I can see I am just in time. If you intend to go sailing tomorrow."

"My houseguest?" Claymore quailed. "Surely, that is cruel and unusual punishment. Can't you think of another way to make me suffer? Order me to walk the plank? Swim with sharks. Toss me to a whale? Keelhaul me? Please…"

"Stop quivering, you lily-livered jellyfish! Such necessary punishments are too good for the likes of you!"

Claymore quailed. "What did I ever do to you to deserve that?"

"I thought you'd be delighted to share my company, day and night," the Captain replied with satisfaction. "I was judged a fair enough singer of sea shanties, in my time."

He turned away to look around the room. "But just look at this place. What an appalling mess. I cannot abide an untidy ship." He clicked his fingers at Claymore to follow him.

Claymore stood his ground. "Well, I've been busy," he replied lamely. "I don't have a housekeeper named Martha to tidy up after me."

The Captain ignored the complaint as he walked away. Claymore scurried after him, looking miserable.

"You really must shape up," the Captain instructed. "You'll really have to heave to and get these quarters shipshape. No lady should ever be forced to set eyes on this disaster that is your life. Not if you want her to part with some of her hard-earned money."

"Is that why you're here?" Claymore asked indignantly. "Just to pick on me and try to make me feel small?"

"I don't need to try, dear boy. You do a sterling job of it all by yourself."

"Very funny!" Claymore grouched.

"The place looks like a Calcutta pest house. A Gregg pretender must always run a tidy and trim ship. It is a family tradition, and you will honour it."

"If you say so, Sir…" Claymore saluted miserably.

The Captain waved his hand and the couch bed made itself and then folded away neatly. The coffee table scooted back in front of it as all the newspapers folded up and the discarded books returned themselves to the bookcase. The scattered shirts launched themselves into the laundry hamper and the lid fell shut.

"Oh…" Claymore clapped as if he had just seen a fine performance. "That's very good! I hope I can keep it that way." He pinned on his best smile. "Thanks for coming, Uncle." He looked pointedly toward the door.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of denying you the pleasure of getting it that way. I was merely making a small demonstration of what is possible, if there is a will behind the work, and not sheer bone idleness."

He waved his hand, and the room returned to its previous state of untidy shambles. The coffee table moved aside and the bed flopped open again, untidily.

"Oh, my…" Claymore groaned.

The Captain turned to him. "Now, clean, you swab!"

"Yes, Sir!" Claymore saluted hastily before he hurried into the work.

He folded the bed up and forced it back into its base. He gathered the books and threw them back into the bookcase.

"Move, you barnacle!" his great-uncle shouted at him. "Move!"

He gestured and a broom went flying at Claymore. He managed to grab it and began sweeping frantically. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled.

"I'm cleaning, Sir!" he gabbled. "Cleaning! Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning!"

The Captain watched his frantic movements and smiled. He was enjoying himself and it eased the chagrin over Carolyn not believing his word.

He sighed and shook his head. "My dear, Mrs Muir…" he said softly as his nephew continued to struggle with the cleaning. "You truly rubbed the raw of my temper and no mistake. But I will forgive you in time, Madam…"

※※※※※

"Well, that went better than I expected," Martha said as the Gull Cottage inhabitants returned home from the successful evening performance of the school play. "Though my corns are killing me. All that dashing around backstage herding the children into place takes it out of a body. I won't be long out of my bed."

"Me, too. It was a good night, but I am glad it's over," Carolyn replied.

"Yeah, and Penelope Hassenhammer looked like she was gonna throw up," Jonathan stated with glee. "She looked right green at the end when she had to kiss the king. She only pecked him on the cheek and then she ran for it."

"Yeah, that's because she ate too many of Martha's fudge brownies before she went on stage," Candy added. "I saw her stuffing her face backstage. Martha told her not to, but she didn't listen."

"Well, all I can say is thank God that's all finally behind us," Carolyn stated as she shut and locked the front door behind them. "You both made excellent palace servants. Now run along upstairs and get ready for bed. I'll be up in a minute to make sure you've brushed your teeth and tuck you in."

"Okay, Mum…" Both children ran for the stairs.

"I thought the Captain was going to show up for the play," Martha commented as she turned the lights on in the kitchen and filled the kettle with water. "You said you'd invited him."

"Maybe he had better things to do," Carolyn lingered in the open doorway and looked back at the painting above the fireplace in the living room. "I have no idea where he is. But I'm not his keeper."

"Ah ha," Martha regarded her dubiously as she set the kettle on the stove to boil. "Well, we better get our coffee while we can still boil the water. Lord knows what this kitchen will look like in a few days' time once Ed and Mr Burrows get back here and really get going. There're two cherry pies on the line."

※※※※※

In a still, dark room, Claymore lay sprawled in bed. He was snoring heavily. Evidence of his cleaning attempts was lying all around, abandoned and forlorn. He had collapsed into bed at midnight and slept until dawn.

The Captain appeared beside him at the head of the bed. He held a ship's bell in his hand.

"Six bells! Time to rise and shine!" he shouted cheerfully.

Claymore stirred and half rose off his pillow. "Don't wake me, stewardess. I've already seen the movie…" He fell back and started snoring again.

The Captain shook his head as he turned to gesture toward the windows. The drapes parted and the shade rolled up with a clatter. Sunshine poured in. The window flew upwards allowing a stiff morning breeze to fill the room.

Claymore remained oblivious. His great-uncle scowled at him. He extended the bell in his hand and began to ring it vigorously. "Six bells, blast you! The day's already half over!" The bedcovers rolled down to the foot.

Claymore curled into a ball and squinted at the daylight. "Wh-what are you d-doing? I'm f-f-freezing!"

The Captain smiled at him. "I have just the thing to warm your bones and put roses in your cheeks. An ice-cold shower!" He vanished.

"No!" Claymore protested, cringing in his bed. "No, please stop! Leave me alone! I'm allergic to cold water and early mornings!"

But it was no use. The ghost dragged him from his bed and pushed him across toward the open bathroom door.

"No! Please! Not that! Let go of me!" Claymore babbled as he tried to hold onto the door frame. "No! No! I beg you! If ice-cold water hits my body, I'll shatter!"

It was all to no avail. He was shoved across the room and into the shower box, pyjamas and all. He screamed in terror as cold water surged over him. "Noooooo! Mercy! Uuuurrggghhh!"

The Captain appeared. "I'll make a man of you yet! Cold water is good for your soul!"

Claymore glared at him. "Wh-why do you hate me so much?" His teeth were chattering with reaction.

"Hate you, dear boy?" The Captain shook his head. "I don't hate you. I just despise everything you are and what you stand for. You've succeeded in having me banished from my own house! I shall afford you no quarter or mercy!"

"Oh…" Claymore sagged like a pricked balloon. "I didn't know…" He shivered.

"Dry yourself off…" The Captain hurled a towel at him. "We still have a lot of work to do. First of all, you are going to call Ed Peevey and his cringing side kick and get them back to work on the kitchen. Or it will be the worse for all of you!"

"Aye, aye, Sir…" Claymore saluted miserably as he wiped the cold water from his eyes.

※※※※※

Standing with her brother, outside their mother's bedroom, Candy raised a hand to knock. As she did so, both children looked worried and Scruffy was hiding behind them with his tail tucked between his hind legs.

"Come in," Carolyn called.

Candy turned the handle and pushed the door open. "Good morning, Mother," she said brightly.

"Yeah, good morning," Jonathan added as they walked into the room.

Carolyn was seated behind her typewriter. She studied the downcast faces of her children. They stopped in front of the desk.

"What has happened?" she asked with a mother's keen instinct. "Why the long faces?"

"We can't find the Captain anywhere," Jonathan replied. "We looked all over last night and this morning. He said he'd come to our play, but he didn't. You said that he said he was confining himself to quarters. But he's not there either."

"Ah, I see…" Carolyn nodded. "Well, I'm afraid the Captain has decided to take a small holiday. Just until the work in the kitchen is finished. He thought it was best he is not around for it. He doesn't like any of it being done and he didn't want to scare the workmen."

"Yeah, but Mr Peevey and Mr Burrows sure didn't stay long yesterday," Candy stated. "They gonna stay longer today?"

Their mother shook her head. "I'm afraid the Captain might have accidentally scared them away. I've been trying to call Mr Peevey, but he isn't answering his telephone. Even Martha can't get in touch with him. She owes them two cherry pies."

"Oh, but it wasn't the Captain, Mum," Candy confessed in a rush. "Not yesterday, anyway. It was us. We were up in the attic, looking around for something to play with and Scruffy somehow got hold of the Captain's sword."

"Somehow?" Carolyn's eyebrows rose.

"Yes, well…" Jonathan shuffled his feet. "I got it out of the Captain's trunk and Scruffy sorta grabbed it and ran down the stairs with it. It kinda clanked and rattled."

"Just like someone rattling chains?" Carolyn tried not to smile.

"Yeah…" Candy nodded. "Then he wouldn't give it back, so we had to try and bribe him with our ball. It sorta bounced down the stairs."

"Like someone walking down the stairs?" Carolyn nodded.

"Yeah…" the kids agreed in unison.

Candy sighed. "We're sorry, Mum. We heard Mr Burrows screaming. We thought he might have fallen off his ladder or something."

"Well, it's not me you should be apologising to. It's the Captain. You got him into a whole lot of trouble that wasn't his fault. I'm afraid I made it rather uncomfortable for him to stay here while the work is being done."

Both kids looked around the room. "Sorry, Captain," they both called.

But there was no answer and no sign of the ghostly resident. They sighed.

"Where's he gone, Mum?" Jonathan asked.

"I honestly don't know…" Carolyn got up to walk around the desk and hugged them both. "No doubt, he'll come back when he's good and ready. He always has. He was rather annoyed with us all."

She gave each children a gentle push toward the open door. "Now you go on and get washed and then dressed. We've got work to do. I'm afraid it will be cold cereal and fruit again."

"Again?" Candy sighed as they did as they were asked. "Geez, I sure hope you get hold of Mr Peevey again and soon!"

※※※※※

Carolyn opened the front door for the children to run outside to play. She was pleasantly surprised to see a rather sheepish-looking workman standing on the doorstep with his hand raised to knock.

"Why, Mr Peevey…" She smiled at him. "Have you and Mr Burrows had second thoughts about the work? I didn't expect to see you on a Sunday."

"Morning, Mrs Muir…" Peevey knuckled his temple. "Sorry about yesterday. Ya see, Harv's a little high strung. He always has been. Even as a kid. Gets somethin' in his brain and there ain't no shiftin' it."

He turned to glare over his shoulder at his truck parked at the gate. Harvey sat in the passenger seat looking lonely and scared. "He still won't come inside. We still got work to get done. We got two cherry pies on offer."

"And you?" Carolyn stood aside to allow him into the house as the kids ran after their dog. "You're here."

"Yeah, well…" Peevey shuffled his feet. "I kinda caught the bug from Harv yesterday. But Claymore explained that the house has lots of noises and when the wind is in the southwest, the chimneys rattle. I guess that was what Harv musta heard. Claymore said we acted like a couple of hysterical old women and I kinda agree with him."

He shrugged as he turned and gestured to Harvey. "Get out of that truck and get in here, Harv!" he called. "You don't see a single red cent 'til we're done!"

"All right, all right…" Harvey grumbled as he opened his door and got down.

He walked up the path, looking all around nervously. "Mornin', Mrs Muir…" He touched his forehead as he stopped beside Peevey.

His boss turned to see Martha in the kitchen. "And Claymore reminded us that until the kitchen is done, we don't get paid, and Martha can't make us any more of her cherry pies."

"That's a certain fact," Martha agreed. "You're very lucky I kept the last two for you."

"Ah…" Carolyn nodded her understanding as she showed the reluctant men into the kitchen. "Your empty stomach won out over your fear that Gull Cottage might be haunted."

"Yeah, somethin' like that," Peevey agreed morosely. "I'll get right back to work, Mrs Muir. I'll have the place all fixed up in a jiffy. See if I don't. And Harv will come around. He just needs time."

He sighed. "Besides, I want to be the first to cut into the next of Martha's cherry pies to come out of that oven when we're done with it!"

※※※※※

With a little encouragement, both men worked diligently all morning. Martha and Carolyn were washing the dishes at the sink while Peevey was fixing the light socket on the wall next to her.

He grinned at her. "Don't you go worryin' about any of this, Martha. When the wiring's in, we'll put it all back as good as new."

"You ought to put it all back in solid gold, Ed Peevey!" Martha complained. She glanced at Carolyn. "Charging extra to come back to work! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

"Don't be too hard on him, Martha," Carolyn replied as she carried a stack of dishes to the dresser. "The bonus was my idea."

"And it was the only way to get Harv back to work and make him stay here," Peevey said acerbically. "Right, Harv?"

Perched up his ladder, working on the ceiling lights, Harvey looked down. "I don't wanna talk. I just wanna get finished, get paid and get outta here! You can have my cherry pie and all!"

"Well, we did explain it was the children playing with their dog that you heard yesterday," Carolyn pointed out. "They made all those noises."

"Maybe they did and maybe they didn't," Harvey replied. "I knows what I knows. And I knows summit in this house just ain't right."

"Ah, ha…" Peevey shrugged at Martha who shook her head as she finished with the dishes. "One thing about Harv," Peevey observed. "He's all courage and heart."

Carolyn frowned at the old fuse box on the wall. "Mr Peevey, would it be much trouble to move this fuse box to the service porch? It's really an eyesore where it is."

"No trouble at all. I'll get it down as soon as I'm done here."

"Is there any way I can help to speed things up?"

"Aye. I guess you can take the screws out from the inside of the box." He pulled a screwdriver from his toolbelt. "Here. This'll do the job nicely."

"Thanks…" Carolyn set to work.

"Maybe you should split their bonus with them, Mrs Muir," Martha advised as she wiped down the benches.

"Maybe…" Carolyn smiled as she used the tool and withdrew all the screws.

But with them removed, the box remained stubbornly attached to the wall. Frustrated with her lack of progress, she gave the box a sharp tug. There was a crumbling, cracking sound and the section of wall that held the box broke away. It was left hanging by its wires.

"Oh, no…" Carolyn stared at the mess in horror.

"Mmmm. Sure came apart easy in the end, didn't it?" Peevey frowned.

"You would too, if you were over one hundred years old," Martha commented dryly.

Carolyn swallowed tightly. "Well, I'd better be the one to ask the burning question. How much will this repair cost, Mr Peevey?"

The workman poked at the hole in the wall and sighed. "Can't replaster for less than fifty dollars, plus materials, Mrs Muir. It's a big hole."

"On what stone is that written?" Martha demanded to know.

"Well, go ahead," Carolyn said, becoming tired of the whole thing. "After all, it's only money." She tried to smile bravely, but failed miserably.

※※※※※