Hamish and His Big New Years Eve Resolution

RDP FRIDAY: BREATHE

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Me and my best friend Kit were doing what we always like to do best on Friday nights.

We sit on our favorite bench in our favorite park and watch the lanterns flicker on just as the Sun sets.

The lanterns are old and I think they use those new bulbs that are supposed to last for a year but they still buzz and click before the lights pop on.

” Are you going to give it a try tonight?” Kit asked me.

” I dunno.”

” Well. It was your New Years Resolution. It was your only resolution. Are you seriously going to not even try?”

The lanterns buzzed and clicked and like magic the lamp posts glowed to life.

I stood up. Squared my shoulders. l lifted up my chin and closed my eyes.

” Oh for Pete’s sake what is the point?” I  asked. ” It’s not going to make me taller or  cute or thinner or sexier or smarter. ”

” It’s all about follow through Hamish. Go on. Give it a try.”

” This is stupid. ”

” Yes. But you swore on your Mother’s grave you’d do this. So get to it.”

 

We were talking about my Mother now and she was pretty damn great as far as Moms went.

When Mr. Finch and his two sons tried to put a bullet between my eyes because I was different and  touch on the emotional side when I heard Mozart and I was and still am fond of wearing pastels and getting mani-pedis,   it was  my Mom  who took matters into own hands and wiped the deck with all of them.

” I’d do it again Pumpkin ” she said as Doc Frances set her broken arm and taped her cracked ribs. ” Now, go on downstairs and see about dinner, would you? Doc helped me bring it in- on top of everything else he’s done for us  tonight.”

” I could eat a horse. ” Doc Frances said. ” Patching you up is hard work Domino.” he told my Mom.

Before anyone could say another word I turned tail and raced downstairs to the kitchen. I was determined to make the best dinner ever for my Mom- my beautiful brave Mom- and I did.

 

” Okay. For Mom. ” I squared up, closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

My first one ever since I turned in a Werewolf over 60 years ago, like everyone in  our family does when they turn 10 years old.

” How’s it feel?” Kit asked. He stood up on his hind legs and pushed his paws against my chest. He nuzzled at my chin the way cats do.

I exhaled a small jet of air from my lungs into his face.

” God.” Kit flinched and sneezed and gagged. ” What is that. I mean it Hamish. Did something crawl in their and die?”

” I don’t think so. I think it was something I ate.”

We looked into the bushes  behind our bench.

I shrugged, Kit flicked his tail.

” Well. Be that as it may, you kept your New Years Resolution,  you took your first breath in sixty years. Congratulations Hamish.”

” Happy New Year to you  Kit. Now let’s go see about dessert, shall we?”

The real life Hamish and his BFF “Kit ” Micey.
Photo A.M. Moscoso

 

That’s How It Started

Writer’s Write January Prompt

#1 Beginning

The idea  came  to her on a drive when her car hit a patch of ice and she nearly skidded off the road and into a line of trees- dark monstrous  trees, their limbs coated with snow and ice.

She imagined the trees reaching down with their twisted arms and tearing their way into the driver’s compartment through the roof, smashing their way through the windshield- gouging out her eyes  and smashing the delicate bones of her face to a paste of blood and flesh.

Maybe with a bit of doing they’d take her head and fling it up into the sky and it would fall back down and land with a soft thud and maybe it would roll a little before it stopped- face up she guessed.

It was just a lonely and lost idea hiding in the dark, hiding in the cold all alone in the world , that crawled into her head that night on the road, many years ago.

Now when it dreams of bone an ice and dark roads and the trips and dark deeds they’ve brought into the world since that split second when they first met -they laugh.

Together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The House In The Field

RDP Tuesday: vacant

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

My train passes by that house- that one lonely house in a field full of rusting metal  and pools of fetid water every single day 16 times a day whether I am on the train or not.

The house used to be light blue and there are still curtains in the windows frames but the glass has been gone for a long time,  and I’m sure if you tried to open the door you would find it locked.

There is a porch on the side of the house and it was there I saw the dog for the first time.

The dog  was black and it was wearing an orange collar and it was obviously a very big dog because it looked huge from a distance.

At first I wasn’t sure it was a real dog- it didn’t flinch when the train roared by, it’s longish fur never moved out of place from the wind that flew up to where it sat across from the tracks.

The Dog was watching for something and nothing- not even a train screaming in it’s face could persuade it to look away for even a second.

No, it didn’t act like a dog- it didn’t even act like it was alive.

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

 

Last winter- the winter that turned into Summer in the blink of an eye- my train, with me on it sped up to the house and I saw that the front door was open and that the dog was not on the side porch.

He was at the edge of the yard and it was stunning  how big he really was. I could see his face and his eyes- they weren’t dark brown or red or orange- they were bright, they were so bright they were blinding.

I didn’t  look away from that light  because when I heard the Black Dog  growl it felt like my heart had stopped.  I couldn’t turn my head, I couldn’t shut my eyes I couldn’t have moved even if  I had wanted to.

It never really registered- I couldn’t move but I flew all the same.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

That dog  was the last thing I saw and heard  until I woke months later,  minus a leg and my right eye and most of the fingers on my right hand.

There was a signal error that caused our train to crash with the freight train I was told probably a million times.  But the head injuries I suffered were extensive and it was quite awhile before anything I was told made any sense to my poor damaged brain,

When I  was able to tell  people about the last thing I remember- the house in the field with the dog that chased us  and caught us I suppose, people would pat my arm and smile and gently explain that there wasn’t a house in that field and there probably was never a dog there either.

It was just my mind blotting out a horrific experience with images I could understand, images that were not as terrifying as the reality of what we all went through.

But I am sure of one thing- my life after I saw that dog was a patchwork and weeks of my life went by without me being able to remember them. My short term memory still isn’t all it should be.

But I remember everything from before I saw that dog chase us-

and I am certain of this

Something was in that house behind the locked door and one day it came out and it sent it’s dog after us and I am positive as I said earlier that it caught us.

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

Look for it. It’s a blue house, there are curtains in the window frames and the front door is shut and probably locked, there is a black dog on the porch steps.

If you see it, go away from it- whatever it takes- don’t go anywhere near it-don’t let it catch you.

Orson and Jules Go Trick Or Treating

Ten year old twins Orson and Jules are ready for Halloween.

They are fully costumed ( Vampire and Mummy respectively ) they have decorated two white pillow cases with bones made from felt and they have written their names in drippy red lettering near the openings of their bags.

Grandma has insisted on making their costumes every year since they were old enough to reach a door bell and they didn’t argue because she is handy with a needle  and thread and lucky them, their  Mom is a whiz at makeup.

” All those years of sitting through my Mom’s Avon demos really paid off, didn’t it boys? ” Mom would say as she stepped back to admire her handiwork.

Orson and Jules had no idea what ” Avon ” was, but nobody could turn you into a corpse or the shade of a dead man better then Mom and the big picture here was getting out the door and into the night for candy, all the candy they could get into their bags so Mom throwing around words with no meaning wasn’t really important.

Not tonight because it’s Halloween

 

Grandma roared up their driveway just before dusk, like she did every year, in her Jeep.  She’d hit the garbage cans like she did every year and Dad would say that joke played itself out a long time ago and he was ready to hide those damn things in the attic at this point.

” Go ahead Malcolm”  she’d say, ” I’m up for the challenge.”

” Hey you two!” she called out her window to her Grandsons  who were waiting for her on the porch.” Happy Halloween. Are we ready to go out and raise  Caine and get some candy?”

” We are!” they  cheer back in stereo.

” Hop in and let’s get to it then.”

Neither boy called  shotgun- they loved their Nan, but not enough to sit in the Death Seat. Nan seemed to feel that things like speed limits and traffic laws in general were more suggestion then rules.

So they flew down the street, and as they did the Sun set lower in the sky and the street lights started to pop on.

” Nan, ” Orson asked ” do you think we can start at Hidden Hills first? Then to Harvest Ridge?”

” I don’t see why not. But first things first. I have to swing by the Stop- N- Go ”

” Couldn’t you have stopped there first Nan? Look! The Sun is down!” said Jules  who was probably the only person in the world who could scold Nan and get away with it.

” Nope. ” Nan swooped into the Stop -N-Go and she nearly missed the gas pumps ( as usual). The few people in the lot looked surprised and even a little scared but not Jules and Orson. They were more concerned with their empty treat bags then they were with their brush with death.

” You can do this fast, right Nan?” Orson reminded her in the form of an ask.

” Sure. Back in a jiff.”

Orson and Jules were pretty sure that a Jiff equaled 15 minutes in real time but they didn’t say anything. They were counting on the fact that Nan would make up for their lost time with her driving.

Nan tore out of the driveway and after a few minutes of roaring through the dark she remembered  to turn her lights on, but did that matter to anyone in the Jeep? No it did not because they were on their way.

Between  Hidden Hills and Harvest Ridge- two of Orson and Jules favorite trick or treating spots where the houses were decked out in their finest Halloween regalia and the  yards were stuffed with graveyards and inflatable monsters and even crime scenes complete with giant plastic rats and corpses under sheets-  is  Sparrows  Ease.

Sparrows Ease in a small cemetery that outdates the towns that sprung up to the north and south of it by almost 100 years.  Unlike the new cemeteries, Sparrows Ease has a tall wrought iron fence, and a locked gate- the lock is new and you need a key card and a passcode to open it.

Nan zips up to the gate, kills the engine and grabs the bag on the seat next to her.

A candle rolls out and she shoves it back in and reaches for the glove compartment. She pulls out the Keycard, a scalpel and a roll of  bandages. ” Ok. I’m going to raise your Cousin Caine and then we’re off! ”

Jules reaches into his bag and pulls out a treat bag with their cousin’s name written on it and Orson pulls an eye patch and a pirate’s hat out of his and both boys sit back as Nan pops out of the car and they watch, with as much patience as they can muster, the  cemetery gates swing open after she taps her card to the key pad and punches in her code.

” Why does she use a key?” Jules asks.

Orson doesn’t answer because tonight it’s Halloween and the boring details of day to day life don’t matter right now.

Darkness has fallen over Sparrows Ease and the stars are out.

It’s  Halloween and tonight is full of magic.

 

 

 

The Quilton Sisters

 

Lorna Quilton is walking away from her parent’s house holding an off white photo album trimmed in gold close to her chest. It’s a little frayed around the bottom edges and it smells like that furniture polish that her Mother likes to use- Lemon Plus- not that it actually smells like Lemons Plus anything. But  Lorna finds it oddly comforting to find and latch onto the familiar and it soothes her nerves just a little, but not enough to keep the sweat from trickling down the back of her neck.

She thinks that if she finds a place to sit down and relax she can open the album again and she will not let herself panic like she did in the living room. Lorna is sure that she slammed the door a little to hard when she ran out of the house with the photo album clutched in her hands because she heard a bang and some shouting about the door but she could not stop-she had to get as far away from home as she could before someone asked her to explain herself.

She walked briskly, which was fine because the autumn air had a bite to it,  all the way to Jack Cross Park which is right across the street  from her high school.

It’s a shady park  where the city’s water towers ( painted a soft shade of green to blend in with the trees and grass because sure, that will camouflage two 125 foot towers full of water ) that only has visitors on the hottest days of the year because it’s always wrapped in shadows.

The towers themselves  are surrounded by white and pink rhododendron bushes  and barbed wire topped fence- but never mind the barbed wire! Someone got the elementary school kids to paint bread loaf sized wooden fish bright and cheerful colors and they’re swimming on the chain link fence to take your mind off the chunks of razors just over your head.

Lorna goes to the benches at the back of the Park and she takes a seat on a bench and she looks up, takes a breath and opens the photo album on her lap.

On the first page are pictures of her very pregnant Mom standing next to a Christmas tree. She’s smiling and she looks a little sad, but that’s probably because her feet hurt. She told Lorna once how much she hated it when her feet swelled up and how ugly they were and how her Dad wouldn’t even look at them because they grossed him out.

Then there’s a birth announcement for Mary- it had little birds and butterflies all over it and they were bearing the glad news stamped on a silken banner that baby Mary was a long and chubby baby, just like Lorna had been.

Lorna takes a breath, holds it and lets it out slowly.

She turns the page and her sister is a toddler, she’s learning to ride a bike, in other’s she’s playing with the family dog. As the  pages flip by slowly- because Lorna is forcing herself to turn them slowly, there are family pictures of vacations, Christmases, Mom’s new car, birthday parties, class pictures, and then towards the end there are wedding pictures and Mary is a bridesmaid in some and towards the end she is a bride herself.

Lorna is proud of herself. She did it.

She looked at pictures of her Sister without throwing the album down and running from it because

until about a half hour ago Lorna would have sworn she didn’t have a sister- but the was there courtesy of Kodak film.

 

She has a sister named Mary Quilton and they grew up in the same house and had the same parents but Lorna doesn’t  remember her.

It wasn’t that she just didn’t remember her- it’s not like she looked at that Thanksgiving picture where her Mom was wearing the sweater Lorna had given her for her birthday and saw Mary seated next to her Dad with her finger up her nose and something familiar popped out.

Tthere is an absence of feeling about the picture, the people in it feel like strangers, like interlopers.

Lorna guessed her Uncle Mert took the picture because he thought it would be funny to capture that moment forever. He loved to catch people doing silly or gross stuff on film.

That little tidbit did nothing to take away from her anxiety because she should have remembered that moment. The minute the flash went off and Mary was immortalized forever with her finger up her nose,  her Mother would have had a kittens.

Nothing.

It was almost time to start setting up for their Halloween party, Lorna should be there helping her Mother and their friends. But what was going to happen when she showed up and her sister Mary showed up an and Mary asked  something like ” How have you been?” because she guessed Mary would know her.

And Lorna would only be able to say, ” Pretty good. So. Who the Hell are you?

Lorna could see Mary sprouting horns, she could hear her skin crackle and split and turn red and Devil Mary would say, ” Hell indeed.”

Lorna closed the photo album and stood up.

Well, she had a hard time convincing herself that  scenario was less crazy then the situation she was in right now.

The five minute walk home felt like it only took seconds because Lorna did not want to be here- she did not want to walk into that house and face a Sister who had been living under the same roof with her and she had no  memory of her. Not a single one.

People were showing up with bags and boxes and plastic containers- Lorna guessed they were helping set up for the party  and on the way up to the house  she saw a slightly older version of the man Mary was standing next to in one her wedding pictures at the curb shutting a his car door. He reached up on the roof for a tote bag full of streamers and when he turned around Lorna was standing next to him.

She looked into his face and for just a second she thought he recognized her, maybe he knew her and that terrified her.

Then the look was gone and Lorna took a breath.

” Hey. Hi. Here for the party? You’re early so you must be here to help set up.”

Lorna nodded and  she looked towards the house. ” I’m here to help my Parents.”

” Oh yeah? And who are they? ”

” Marie and Harold  Quilton. I’m Lorna.”

The man from Mary’s wedding picture does not look happy. ” Look,  know it’s Halloween, but whatever you’re doing here, it’s not funny. Go on, get out of here before my wife and her parents show up. I mean it. Get lost.”

Lorna is still holding the photo album next to her chest and she lets it fall from her hands to the ground. Her face is a smooth mask without a single trace of emotion, but her eyes-

they are as dark as a basement in an abandoned and lifeless house and Guillermo steps back from her and bumps into his car.

Lorna’s panic reaches epic proportions, she is ready to scream, to cry to run but then it’s gone and the thoughts she does know push themselves to the front of the line and knows for certain:

she can’t remember Mary, she can’t remember getting her drivers license or graduating from high school or what she did the day after she was running across the street to catch her bus on the last day of school.

But she does know one thing right now.

” I’m here to help my parents.”

” With what? ” Guillermo asks hoping that she will not answer.

She does not.

Guillermo leans down to pick up the photo album because he has to do something and when he straightens back up with the album in his hands, the teenage girl pretending to be his Wife’s sister who died before she was born is gone.

 

MOUNTAIN VIEW

Marie Lourdes Quilton 65 and Harold Quilton  68

of Mountain View died October 31, 2019 in a traffic accident.

Funeral arrangements to be announced.

It’s Your Turn

Photo by Markus Spiske temporausch.com on Pexels.com

Halloween Morning

2019

 

” Baby needs to be fed.” he slurred into his pillow and Reggie Hull, never to be given a Father of The Year Award plaque  or Greatest Husband Ever Emoji on his Facebook Wall  went straight back to sleep.

Next to him,  Lindsey’s eyes opened, slowly one at a time and they eventually focused on the baby monitor on the dresser on the wall opposite the foot of their bed. She grit her teeth and knew she hated her life more in that second then in all the seconds that came before it and that was a Hell of a lot.

Reggie had said once when they were arguing about their situation , that the baby had voracious mindless appetite-just like it’s Mother and thanks to her their entire life would be devoted to that one task.

Lindsey had no reply to that because she knew it was true.

 

” I think it’s your turn Reg. ” she whispered.

” I don’t think it is. I’m pretty sure it’s your turn. I’ve done more than you so far.”

” Are you actually keeping track?” she hissed.

Reg hissed back because the last thing he wanted was for that kid to cry louder because  the monitor at the foot of their bed  was dancing and skittering around  with the force of the sound coming out of it,  ” Like you’re not.”

” Look one of us has to go be-”

The wail got a little louder and worse, there were no breaks in the cry. It was steady and insistent. We were at the ” I’m going to be firm but polite ” phase of this particular conversation.

Lindsey sat up and fought the urge to throw her pillow at the monitor- or to jump up and push th pillow down on Reggie’s face until his lungs deflated.  That’d teach him to drop his end.

” Why is it my turn? Because I’m a woman, right? I should just jump up and run out of her because that’s what we do when we hear a crying baby that needs to be fed at three in the morning. Well guess what Reg. I’m not that kind of woman.”

” We’re in this mess because of you.” Reg sat up and he did throw his pillow at the monitor. ” You wanted the life.  The house in the suburbs, the cars, the clothes the vacations, the Yoga classes.  Well, guess what it all came with a cost. You know that.”

Lindsey turned her face to the wall. ” So did you. ”

 

Lindsey wasn’t going to budge, but that’s not why Reggie got out of bed to feed the baby, to owe up to his responsibility. He got out of bed because at that moment he really hated his wife and if he stayed in bed next to her- well.

Like I said.

Reggie was never going to find a husband of the year emoji on his Facebook wall, ever.

 

The baby wasn’t just crying, the baby was in full Opera mode and he was angry- his little cries pierced Reggie’s eardrums and made his teeth hurt.

Reggie pushed the door open and there was the baby, waiting to be fed.

 

He or maybe it was a she, Reggie didn’t know, he didn’t care because the deal was they didn’t have do much except drop a few tidbits to it until  it was time for them both  to feed it.

The screaming baby was in the arms of his Mother- and she was just as vicious looking as the day he and Lindsey made a deal with her at the Crossroads six years ago on Halloween. Her skin was still pale green skin,  her  eyes were still dull and milky blue, her tongue still darted out from between her thin black lips like a snake and danced around the corners of her mouth with a mind of it’s own,

The world was theirs as was anything in it that they wanted and all they would have to do was Feed The Baby. Both of them. She’d let them decide who would feed it first. Until that day, she suggested a shovel, a crow bar, a saw and a cemetery with poor lighting would provide small sweet meals for the child, but the time would come when it would be  time for them both  to feed the baby.

The Baby and it’s Mother turned and looked at him.

She licked her lips and the baby held out it’s arms.

The door slammed shut behind him.

 

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The Mystical Madame Esme

Halloween Night

Seattle, Washington

1973

 

” No Felicity. No. Not this again.”

Felicity was digging her heels in, like she did every Halloween in front of one doorway or another with a tastefully handwritten  printed placard taped on the window  inviting you in for a ‘consultation.’ with- who is it on this night?

Madame Esme.

Why not Archie thought to himself. Why the heck not. Last year it was Madame Francesca and the year before that The Amazing Zephron.

” Felicity, this never works, it will never work and you’ll spend the rest of what should be a festive night for the both of us crying over spilt milk. Come on old girl, it’s Halloween. Let’s kick up our heals and maybe have a little fun for once.”

Felicity gave him that look- the one that said we have had a lot of fun and look at where it’s gotten us.

When she was sure he heard, or rather saw that, she continued:

” I have a feeling about this one Archie. I think this is the one that will help us -please don’t turn away Archie. Look. ” she took his hand and placed it on the glass door. ” Can’t you feel that?”

Archie closed his eyes and his lip curled back. He tried not to gag. ” Felicity. Something is sticking  to my hand and it’s sticky.”

Felicity’s eyes welled up a little and she let her tears, cool to the touch Archie knew, roll down her cheeks. ” Please Archie. Let’s try. What can it hurt? Maybe tonight we can talk to our Son. Maybe tonight is the night we can find him and  he’ll forgive us.”

Archie loved Felicity. He loved her weird taste in music and the way her eyeliner always ended up getting smeared so her eyes ended up looking like they were melting and the way she always poked herself in the chest when she put on one her Great Grandmother’s many broaches that were shaped like Bumblebees and said, ‘oh it stung me the nasty thing.”

” Oh Felicity. Ok. We’ll try. Again. ”

He held the door open and Felicity went through first.

Madame Esme by far, had the best fake British accent Archie had ever heard. Both he and Felicity had grown up just outside of London, but that was a long time ago and they have lived in the States for so long that only the faintest hints of their old life came through when they spoke. Still they could spot a fake accent in a heartbeat and Archie for one was ready to write Madame Esme off right then and there.

But not Felicity.

They followed Esme into her Parlor- it was lit with candles,  the windows were shuttered and there were ferns  hanging from the ceiling in baskets . All around the room there  were shelves lined with little jars full of dried herbs and plants and shells. A cat was asleep on an ‘offering table’ next to  silver box with slit on the top.

With a little bow, Esme invited them to sit at the table in the center of the room.

After they were seated, Madame Esme leaned forward and looked deep into Felicity’s eyes after first  looking  into  Archie’s less then amused ones. ” I think for you, we will use the Crystal Ball.”

” It’s very pretty. I think that’s a  wonderful choice.”

Madame Esme remembered to learn forward and to gaze with intensity from Felicity’s face into the crystal before she dramatically  took Felicity’s  hand into her own . But she did she pull  back a little when looked up and she thought Felicity’s eyes were melting. Before she broke character all together she realized it was her eyeliner it was smudged ,  apparently the  lady did not have a steady hand.

Esme ( aka Edna  Phillips ) took a deep breath, she looked up and wondered if she remembered to turn the coffee maker on before the  couple came in and then she closed her eyes and dove into the Crystal Ball remembering to let her earrings and bracelets and necklaces swing and jingle as she leapt.

”  Close your eyes and imagine that we are standing in front of an elevator in the lobby a  grand old Hotel ”

” I’m seeing the elevator in the Marsten, what are you seeing Archie?”

” Felicity, shhh.”

“The doors open and together we move into it. The doors shut and a button on the panel lights up and we start to move slowly up  to the top floor.”

Esme opens her eyes and  looks into the crystal ball and she says, ” We’ve stopped.  I see the door opening, I see someone standing there, wrapped in shroud. It’s falling away from the figure. This gentle Spirit has been waiting for you with a full heart for a very long time. ”

” Who -. Oh no Archie. Oh NO!” Felicity reached for Archie and if she could have moved fast enough she would have been out of her chair before anyone could stop her.

Esme reaches out to Felicity and takes her hand and gently encourages her to sit down. ” Don’t be frightened. This Spirit means you no harm. He has a message for you.”

Archie puts his hand on Felicity’s shoulder. ” Listen here Madame Edna ”

Esme dropped Felicity’s hand. ” What did you say?”

” You’re scaring my wife. Now fun is fun and it’s the night for it. But  I can not tolerate…-”

” It’s someone who loves us very much? Only one person could say that without laughing. Our Son. But in the end, we even let him down. We should have never gone out to the Circus that night. We got a little tipsy you see  on the way home with some Gin we bought from the Bearded Lady and on the way back…”

Felicity  reached for Archie and she took his hands in hers and lifted them to her cheek. ” We had an accident. At the Bridge. And we lost our Son, he was only five years old and he is the only other person we loved more then we love each other.”

Esme was on firm turf here. ” Your son says all is forgiven and that he has known great peace.”

Felicity dropped Archie’s hands and she lowered her head down and sobbed. ”  Our poor Son. He was such a gentle creature. Two Devil may care people like us should never have produced such a  lovely soul.”

Madame Esme aka Edna Phillips went into Earth Mother mode. She dropped the dramatic gaze, she fluffed her hair just a little, just enough to let the scent of lavender fill the air. ” But he loves you and we wants you to know that he is waiting for you, that he will be there when the time comes. ”

” But he’s gone. He lived an entire life without ever knowing how much we have missed him. ”

Edna echoed ” You left him and he lived an entire life? ”

” Our Son is dead Archie. I really thought we’d find him first and that we could say we were sorry for leaving him and now he’s dead and he’s on the other side and we will never be able to…” Felicity grappled for the right words and found none.

Her sobs were heartbreaking.

” He wasn’t in the car Felicity and that is all that matters. He wasn’t in the car with us that night…Now calm down. I’m pretty sure that Madame Edna here got her wires crossed and  she stopped the elevator at the wrong floor and had a chat with the wrong Spirit.

It wasn’t our Hamish, I’m sure of it and nobody we know has ever, geeze I can’t believe I’m going to say this- rode the elevator to the top floor, so I’m sure Hamish is fine. He’s probably out there right now with his  Grandchildren, he might  have a dozen of them by now. I’d bet the farm that they are out there right this second celebrating Halloween. Our favorite holiday. Just picture it Felicity. Our Hamish with his big wonderful family laughing and happy and Trick or Treating. I’ll bet he even has that dog you always wanted him to have.”

”  I wanted to give it to him for his Birthday that year. I wanted to name it Champ.” Felicity hiccupped and covered her mouth with her hand.

” I am POSTIVE”  Archie glared at Esme ” that Madame can  gaze into her crystal ball, ride the elevator and find a spirit who can tell us where to find Hamish so we can pop in and see how he’s doing.”

Archie’s eyes  burned like coals and before she could cry out Archie was on Esme’s side of the table – she wanted to look anywhere except for Archie’s face because Sixth Sense or not she knew what she was going to see wasn’t going to be good. So she looked down  and that’s when she saw water was pooling at Archie’s feet and  she turned away and looked across the table and saw  small slow moving rivlets of water  were streamimg from Felicity’s forehead and into her eyes and that her eyeliner was running down her cheeks.

“Give it another go Edna. What have you got to loose? Two lost  Devil may care spirits like me and my wife are game for another try. Are you?”