Part 15 (1/2)
Meredith sighed and went over the events with reluctance. I listened with half an ear, my attention divided between him and the group at the table in the center of the room. Savannah had evidently proceeded to the trance stage, for she rocked from side to side, her head tipped back, her eyes closed, her long hair sweeping a pendulum's path across the back of the chair.
”We went downstairs. Spider remembered seeing a door in the bas.e.m.e.nt.
He found a crowbar, and started to pry open the door.”
”Spirits who surround us, we humbly implore you to make yourselves known to us,” Savannah said in a singsong voice. ”Come forth and tell us your names. Share your wisdom. Guide us in the darkness.”
”What happened then?” Adam's voice was a deep counterpoint to Savannah's.
”I stepped back to give him room to use the crowbar. I said something about us not being able to get out of the house, and Spider said he'd be d.a.m.ned if he stayed there any longer. I thought I heard a noise behind me, but before I could turn, something coshed me on the head and I was out.”
”We seek enlightenment, spirits of Walsh House. Come before us and teach your humble pupils. Tell us of your lives, so that we might be better for your experiences.”
”What sort of noise did you hear?” Adam asked.
Meredith made a vague gesture. ”Just a noise. Something moving. Could have been anything-a person, a rat, one of those d.a.m.ned spirits of yours.”
”Spirits of Walsh House, we call upon you now! Speak to us! We feel your presence. We welcome you with love. Speak to us now!”
”Did you see any-”
Before Adam could finish, Savannah gave a small shriek. Evidently she'd been peeking despite her ”trance,” for she sat now pointing at the center of the table, where the air had grown misty, as if it was gathering itself up into a tangible form.
”I ... I summoned a ghost!” Savannah said in outright astonishment, her eyes huge.
”Mother Mary and all the saints, what is it ye want from me, woman?”
”I summoned a ghost who talks!”
”Too bad it's not someone cute,” Pixie said, eyeing the materializing spirit. ”And younger.”
Adam froze, staring in surprise at the center table. I was just as surprised as he: with the house sealed, it shouldn't be possible to summon any being into the house. But on the middle of the table, the figure of a man was solidifying- a ghostly white, gauzy figure, but a man nonetheless. One who looked familiar.
”Grandpa?” Adam asked, a comical mix of surprise and embarra.s.sment on his face.
The ghost turned toward us. ”Adam, me boy! Ye grandam'll be delighted to know it was ye who woke me up. House looks nice. Dropped that third arm, have ye?”
”Do you ... do you know this ... er ... gentleman?” Savannah asked, her voice hushed with awe.
Meredith rolled his eyes. ”Oh, for G.o.d's sake. This is all we need-more freaks.”
”Who're yer friends, then?” the ghost asked, turning a not-so-friendly eye on Meredith.
Adam sighed and rose to his feet. ”This is my grandfather for whom I'm named: Adam Tennyson Trent. He died sixty years ago. He's supposed to be elsewhere. I had no idea he was in the house, but I'd appreciate it if you could put him back.”
13.
”Now, Adam, don't be takin' on like that. If'n yer havin' a party, I'd be happy to have a wee chat with yer friends. I've been sleepin'...What year is this?”
”It's 2008. Go back to sleep,” Adam ordered, storming over to where Savannah sat with an astonished, if joyful, expression. ”And next time, pick someone else's house to take a nap in.”
”Fine welcome that is from me own flesh and blood.” The elder Adam had quite an Irish accent. I couldn't help feeling sorry for the younger version.
The old man had a roguish twinkle in his eye that was apparent despite the wispy nature of his materialization. ”It's been years, lad. How is your work comin' along? The last yer grandam and I heard, ye was workin' for the government.”
”I still am,” Adam said, his shoulders slumping in resignation.
”How come she can summon a ghost?” Pixie asked me in a whisper, her eyes narrowed on Savannah. ”I thought the house was sealed.”
”It is. I suspect the gentleman there was dormant.”
She gave me a blank look.
”It's another word for sleeping. Polters and spirits can lay dormant for decades so long as they're not disturbed. But you should know that.”
She rolled her eyes.
”This is your grandfather?” Savannah asked, beaming with happiness at the spirit. ”How do you do, sir? I am Savannah Bane, president of the Psychical Mysteries Society. We're delighted you decided to grace us with your presence.
Would you mind if I took a few pictures of you?”
”Not at all, dearie. Me left is me best side.” Adam senior turned and struck a dramatic pose.
Savannah muttered something about hoping she had enough film left as she dug her camera out of her purse, then quickly took a few shots.
”All right, you've said h.e.l.lo and had your picture taken. Now go back to sleep,” Adam ordered.
”He always was an impatient lad,” the old man confided to Savannah, much to her delight. ”Now then, me boy, ye're not even goin' to tell me about how yer grandam is gettin' on?”
Adam raised his eyes heavenward for a moment. ”She's fine. She is very busy.”
”Raisin' h.e.l.l, as always, I'll wager,” the ghost cackled, slapping his leg.
”Raisin' h.e.l.l, ye get it? Ah, boy, it's good to see ye.”
”I want to sleep for decades,” Pixie announced. ”I don't want to wake up until all the teachers at school are long gone.”
”Eh?” The spirit spun around to look at her. ”Who be ye, then?”
”Morbent Vixen,” she answered.
”I thought it was Obsidian Angel,” my father said.
The look she gave him was one of pure scorn. ”That's so half an hour ago.
I changed it to something better.”