 “You’ve been watching too many movies,” said Reine. “Or were you really secretly expecting to meet up with Phineas Cronan’s ghost?” “Must have.” Hadrian dropped his cigarette and snubbed it out with the heel of his shoe. “But we can look on the bright side. There’s probably not much to see anyway. We can get back in time for dinner. Or if we’re lucky we’ll get some pie. Mary was baking some when I left.” The steps of the church groaned when they walked to the door. Marcus pulled the door open and remarkably, it gave way easily. Reine peered inside. It was dark. She switched on her flashlight and swung the light beam around, catching glimpses of misshapen objects and boarded up walls where the windows were supposed to be. She stepped inside, and the air swirled, musty, around her, a striking contrast from the fresh, slightly damp air of outside. It was air that no one had breathed in many years. She tucked her free hand into her pocket, her fingertips touching the pouch with seeing stones and walked forward, her footsteps making dull thumping sounds instead of echoes from resonating and hollow boards. The beam of her flashlight finally focused onto one of the misshapen lumps and she discovered that it was a broken pew. It was wood and plain, the clunky and practical legs scratched and torn. “So far, it’s comparable to an unrepaired farm,” said Marcus. He stayed near the door and pointed his own flashlight to the farthest corners of the ruined church. The beam was not strong enough to penetrate the dark. “A mess,” Hadrian agreed. He took one step inside and felt his boots sinking into something soft. He looked down, seeing something white and possibly moldy. “Oh great. What did I step in this time?” Marcus chuckled. “I think you’re cursed.” “That is not funny.” She ignored the exchange near the door and ambled down an aisle and eventually made out the altar at the front of the church. The podium where the minister was supposed to stand was turned over on its side, rotting. The altar itself remained intact except for the lack of a crucifix. “Well, the Baron and Baroness did say that some cult or something or other used this as a base of operations once upon a time,” she murmured to herself. Reine swung her flashlight up towards the ceiling, hoping to either see a crucifix there or just ceiling boards. Instead she saw red eyes. “Cover your heads and run!” she screamed as shrieks and rustlings roared overhead. She covered her own head with her arms and ran down the aisle, feeling things brushing past her and hearing flaps of wings. Someone tugged her the rest of the way outside. Finally, she looked up and saw a black cloud streaming out the door. Hadrian gaped at the scene. “Bats. How the hell did they end up in a church?” “Look.” They followed Marcus’s hand and saw that a larger black cloud, bats, were streaming out the back of the church. “There must be a hole back there somewhere. And didn’t the Baron or Baroness say that the church was supposed to have been built on top of a cave? Perhaps the local bat population was forced to move when that happened. And when they did move, perhaps that dried up the church’s business.” “But how could have people not noticed that there were bats around when they were building the church?” Reine asked. “You would think that the noise of construction would have woken a few of them up.” Marcus shrugged. “How am I supposed to know? I’m not a biologist. You’re the one with the scientific background.” “I may know a lot about science, but I do not know about bat behavior. I’m no biologist. I’m just a lowly science editor.” “Right,” said Hadrian unconvinced. “I keep telling you that you have it easy. I have to put up with more crap than both of you combined. See?” He lifted up his boots, which were covered in the white stuff that he had stepped in earlier. She shrugged. “Well, the bats are out of there. For now, anyway. They’ll come back soon though since it’s still day. From what little I do know, bats are nocturnal creatures.” “Bats or no bats, I’m not sticking around,” said Hadrian. “I’m going back to clean my boots and maybe get a slice of Mary’s pie. Or maybe if she’s not done, she’ll let me help. She loves it when I take over.” He waggled his eyebrows. Reine rolled her eyes. “Geez. We’re stuck with a cooking Don Juan who’s afraid of bats.” As Hadrian walked back down the trail, whistling, Reine and Marcus made their way to a more overgrown section of the clearing next to the church where weathered headstones peeked out from the cover of bushes and weeds. The ground in the cemetery was remarkably dry. Perhaps the water from the storm the night before simply soaked right through and was collected by the small holes and containers underground. Reine frowned at the thought of waterlogged caskets. “Should I know what you’re thinking about?” asked Marcus, noticing her frown. “How would you like to be underwater when you thought you would be six feet under?” “Maybe not.” She brushed some weeds away and looked at the letters that were still visible on the headstone. “Smith, died 1857.” She looked at the stone next to it. “Haggerty, 1862. Trevor Finley, 1876.” “It’s a completely different era. Look, here’s one from all the way back in 1795.” “Hm.” Reine stepped over another stone to a much larger one, mostly obscured by the grasses at the edge of the clearing. “Hey. Look what I found.” Marcus trooped over to where Reine crouched, wiping away the dirt on the plaque on the ground. “It looks as old as the others although the design looks a little more recent.” “Phineas Cronan, died 1915. So his bones are here. You would think that a ghost would have the sense to stay a little more closer to his body, especially one that was so materialistic when he was alive.” “I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.” “I don’t. I’m just saying, if there was a ghost this is where he belongs.” “Well, maybe it gets a bit boring out here in the cemetery with only bats for company. I know that if I were a ghost, I’d definitely check out the house for some real people.” “Ha. Wouldn’t you be more concerned about getting into the next life then getting stuck here where a ghost can’t really interact with anyone?” “Well, it might be fun to spook some people out. Like Larrington for instance.” “I don’t know. He’ll probably think it was indigestion.” Marcus closer and crouched down next to Reine. “I think there’s some more writing on this. You don’t suppose it’s an epitath?” She leaned forward to get a better view, but the soft ground underneath their feet suddenly sunk and crumbled into a large gaping hole that appeared out of nowhere. Reine was too surprised to scream as she tumbled over into the dark abyss. Marcus tired to catch her arm but ended up losing his balance and fell in, too, head first. © 2002, S. Y. Affolee |