“Which we can’t do under contract,” Wayne stressed. “My advice, gentlemen, is that we get this job done and get the hell out of here before this house blows.”
“Why aren’t they being drained of power?” Gary asked.
“Because we contained the demon ghost, and before you ask, we’re not letting it go,” Jesse said.
“Take heart, there are minds working on this problem right now. We need to hold it together for a few more days,” Cid said. “Faye has our backs.”
Faye materialized slowly as to not spook Wayne. “What about Jon and Blue Daniel?” she asked.
“I’m going to personally set them free when we can get on the other side of this contract,” Cid vowed. “We still need as much information as we can gather. We have researchers working on the problem.”
“Fair enough,” Faye said and disappeared.
Cid was annoyed by Faye’s insistence, but a slow realization dawned on him. Faye was smitten with Jon. She had a horse in this race, and she was determined hers was going to win. He glanced at the door, and Sally was standing there. He too had reason to win this race. He didn’t need a wreath of roses as incentive to quickly circumnavigate the course. He had a woman he never dreamed would be interested in him waiting at the finish line.
Wayne dismissed the meeting. Cid took the time to help clear the room.
Sally put her hand on his arm. “My job.”
“If your responsibilities are lessened, then you can read. Sally, the answers are in that book.”
“Then I think we will be ordering pizza tonight.”
Pete ran upstairs. “Sally, there is a delivery man asking for your signature.”
Sally followed Pete down the stairs. A man stood next to several large coolers and a crate.
“I’m looking for Sally Wright.”
Sally slid her ID out from her pocket. She handed it to the delivery person. He handed her an envelope and asked her to sign a receipt. “Where do you want the boxes?” he asked.
“Depends on what’s in them?” Sally said, opening the envelope.
“Italian beef sandwich makings, pizzas to be baked, and a selection of sides.”
Sally ran her finger down the invoice and said, “It looks like lunch and dinner have been supplied. I’ll take them up. Does anyone have any tip money?”
Cid dug down in his pocket and pulled out his last ten.
“The tip has been paid,” the delivery man said, waving away the money.
Sally handed the letter to Cid. “Come on, Pete, help me carry these up and I’ll make you a quick snack to take with you.”
Cid stood there and read the message:
Dear Sally,
I’m sorry for not being in total possession of my faculties. Alan said you’ve taken on another task, so I’m cooking today. Please forgive me.
Kiki Pickles
~
Sally left the carriage house with her books and her papers. She walked into the trailer and took Cid’s shirt from the top of the laundry bag. She needed his scent, his strength, and his courage because she sensed the words Daniel was ready to impart would not be easy to read.
I took up the mantle of foreman of the carvers. I inspected the work and, alongside Jon, worked long into the night finishing the balustrade. I could not be prouder of the work I helped to bring about. Our work was decorative, but I made sure that no splinter or excess of wax could be found anywhere. Me mam would have been proud.
The stone masons disappeared one night. Their work finished, they must have packed up and left for other jobs. Back at home they would get a sendoff, here they just left as if they never were.
When Jon and I had finished our work, we were told we would have to wait for it to be inspected by a member of the family. I didn’t expect the old man August to climb the stairs, so I wasn’t surprised when Arnold walked in. He had with him a woman with long flowing robes. He called her Gee, and she smiled at me when I addressed her as Miss Gee. She ran her hands along the wood and nodded as I explained how to care for the individual pieces. She didn’t speak.
When Jon and I had finished showing Arnold our work, he clasped his hands together and said, “No finer job has ever been done.”
“I guess then it is time for us to part ways,” Jon said.
“You can pick up your pay from the foreman when you leave.”
“Our foreman has left already,” I told Arnold.
His face clouded. “Then I will pay you personally…”
“Dear, what about the roof bosses?” Miss Gee asked Arnold. “The Basso man promised us he would make them.”
“Gentlemen, would you be interested in staying on a bit longer? I will pay you double your rate for your inconvenience,” Arnold said. “I fear an important project has been overlooked. Something you could apply your talents to. Have you ever seen a roof boss?”
“There be a few in the church at home,” Jon said. “They are funny looking fellows that hug the intersection of the ribs of the vaulted ceiling.”
“What I need instead are little boxes that are locked with special keys. I have a drawing if it would help.”
We were ecstatic. Not only would we be continuing to make good money, but Arnold insisted that we take up residence in the servant quarters under the eaves of the third floor. No more were we confined in the cellar with the rest. We spent our days carving and dreaming of what we would do with all the money owed to us. After we set the first box, I
