A Haunted Marriage & The Cookie Baking Poltergeist

Chapter 14: Frances Pine's Grandson

    Michael sat down at his breakfast table to eat his bowl of cheerios and drink his black coffee. The place setting next to him remained set, a fork placed on the right of a white plate and a butter knife placed on its left. This place setting represented one of the few reminders that another person used to live in Michael Blake's home. Michael stared at Julia's plate and inhaled. He could still smell her, as if she was sitting there right now. But Julia's aroma became more faint with each passing day. Michael took deeper breaths around his home, hoping for another reminder of his wife, but the reminders were fading fast. A wife as far as Michael was concerned Julia was all but dead.

    Michael grabbed the cell phone next to his coffee cup and typed in a quick message to Julia that read: "Julia please, I still love you. I can only say I am sorry so many times." Michael dialed her number, a number that was never answered and left this voice message: "Again, let's try to talk this out. I do miss you very much. My life is very empty without you. I don't want a divorce. As I have said before, I will go to anger management and we could go to therapy if you want. Please call me back or come home. Remember this is your home too." Since Julia left, these messages went unanswered.

    It's like I have another ghost living in this house, the spirit of my living wife, along with the spirit of a dead grandmother.

    Michael picked up the phone and dialed Julia's number once again. Tears formed in both eyes as he listened to Julia's voice say in the quick fashion that she always said anything: "I am not here right now. Please leave a message." Michael called that number five more times before sipping his last drop of coffee just to hear that familiar voice.

    "You could be such a b***h sometime, but you were my b***h and I do miss you," Michael whispered before rubbing the tears out of his eyes with both fists.

    Getting out of his kitchen chair, Michael walked over to the sink and grabbed the half full wine bottle, a bottle that was full only a few days ago. Michael poured himself a glass, a glass always left conveniently next to the bottle. Michael took two sips before he opened the cabinet above the kitchen sink to remove a folded piece of white paper. The paper creaked as Michael unfolded it and read words that every time they entered his brain caused a literal pain in his heart. Those words being, "Divorce Summons."

    I have twenty days left to answer this thing. I don't even know if I should get a lawyer. Maybe I can go to a mediator and divide our assets. But I don't want a f*****g divorce. Mr. Stone at school is probably right. Divorce sucks. And I thought Julia and I were set for life. At least I will have no child support payments. I would have been a terrible dad anyway.

    Michael took his wine glass and sat back down at the kitchen table. He left the divorce papers on the counter next to the sink. Michael took another gulp of wine before saying, "And what about you Frances Pine? Are you going to bother to make your presence know to the living today? I really don't give a s**t if you do. My life can't really get any worse."

    The basement door flew open by itself and Bogey ran from the basement into the kitchen. The burning yet sweet smell of freshly baked cookies filled the kitchen like a fog fills the city of London . The smell was so strong that Michael could no longer smell any trace of Julia's perfume.

    "You can bake all you want Frances, you're stuck in your shitty life just like I am stuck in mine. Your grandson is gone. He's never coming back. You've been dead Frances for years. It's time to move into the f*****g light and leave me alone. You are part of the reason I am getting divorced, " Michael yelled squeezing the wineglass tighter.

    Michael's tight grip on the wineglass was unable to stop it from being removed from his hand and flung into the kitchen window. The glass shattered and its pieces conveniently fell into the kitchen sink. It felt to Michael like a giant magnet had pulled the glass from his hand. The basement door slammed shut and doors of the kitchen cabinets flew open. Michael could see Bogey seated on the couch's edge, staring at the odd events going on in the kitchen.

    "Frances you're better than AA in getting someone to stop drinking, " Michael said before laughing at his own joke.

    Michael picked up his cell phone to access the Google search engine. He typed in the name, "Jacob Pine." Several Jacob Pines came up as f*******: names. Michael noticed a Jacob Pine from Saratoga Springs. That's got to be him.

    Before Michael accessed what would hopefully be France Pine's grandson's f*******: page, he noticed a news story from the Saratoga Examiner dated October 20th, 2012. Michael clicked on the link to read the story. The story read:

Married Couple Killed By An Intoxicated Driver on the Northway.

Reported by Olivia Simpson.

Yesterday, at 1am, Frank and his wife Theresa Pine of Saratoga Springs, were killed on their way home from a wedding that they attended in Montreal. Frank was driving his 2011 Toyota Corolla, with his wife in the passenger's seat. The Toyota Coralla was travelling southbound on the Northway when another driver, Samuel Hopkins of Troy, NY, who was travelling northbound in his 2009 Ford Pickup Truck, crossed the center line and struck Frank Pine's Toyota Corolla head on. Officials from the New York State Police said that Frank and his wife Theresa were killed instantly. Mr. Samuel Hopkins was arrested for DWI at the scene. His blood alcohol content was twice the state's legal limit. Frank and Theresa Pine leave behind a nine year old son, Jacob Pine. Police were unable to locate Sally Pine, Frank's sister. They believe she is living outside the country. Jacob Pine has been placed into the custody of the Saratoga County Department of Social Services pending placement into a foster home.

    Holy s**t that is absolutely terrible. In the scheme things my life isn't that bad right now. That poor kid has no parents. Just terrible.

    Michael then clicked on the link to access Jacob Pine's f*******: page. The photo at the top of the page showed a dark haired, blue eyes face inside a blue hood. The lips on that face looked like they were refusing to smile. Saratoga Springs, NY was listed under Jacob's photograph.

    He still lives close. I should try to contact him about the ghost of his grandmother living in my basement.

    Under the photos of Jacob were photos of various comic book versions of Batman along with still photos from the eight Star Wars films. Photos of Lady Gaga also adorned Jacob's f*******: page.

    f**k it. I am going to send him a friend request. It can't hurt.

    Michael clicked on the button to send Jacob Pine a friend request to someone who couldn't possibly be a friend since he has never yet met him face to face.

    I am not even sure this the right Jacob Pine. He might not even respond to my friend request, but my neighbor should be able to know if I have the right Jacob Pine.

    Michael tucked the phone in his pocket and went to look out his kitchen window. He looked to see Susan sitting in her usual position on her front porch reading her newspaper. Michael left the kitchen and jogged down his front hallway, taking his keys off the hook on the way. Michael also took his denim jacket from behind the front door and put it on. It's getting colder here in the fall.

    Michael jumped down the last two step of his porch to look up at a now totally bare tree looming over his car in the driveway. He could see clearly through the bare branches the figure of Susan Idleman slouched in her porch chair. Susann saw Michael and waved him over.

    Michael grasped his cell phone with both hands and stared at its screen on his way over to his neighbor's. He nearly walked into the tree on his way over to Susan Idleman.

    Jacob hasn't responded to my friend request yet. He must think I am some kind of pervert.

    As Michael neared Susan's porch holding up his phone he said, "Is this Jacob? I know he is a lot older now, but you might be able to tell if it's him."

    Susan pushed herself out of her chair with both arms. She put the glasses hanging around her neck onto her face.

    Michael held the phone within an inch of Susan's nose, a nose with her glasses perched near the very end.

    "Yeah, yeah. I think that's him. He does not look that different from when he was four. What a shame that he keeps that handsome face buried in that hood. Do all the teenagers do that these days?"

    "Some of them yes. I have to talk with him. According to this Poltergeist Exterminator, who gave me a free estimate of my ghostly infestation, Frances has been haunting me because she wants to communicate with her grandson somehow. I have to find Jacob and get him to come over to my house for some sort of séance."

    "Michael don't you worry about the dead right now. Your wife just left you. Is there any chance you're going to get her back?"

    "Probably not considering the divorce papers she just served me with. But this Beatrice Nelson, the ghost expert, wants my wife to come to this séance too. I should just give up and put this place on the market and move back to Long Island to be miserable there."

    "Don't be ridiculous. Don't worry about this ghost business. You need to get your wife back. I am sick and tired of couples moving out of that house. Quitters all of them."

    I really don't need my neighbor's divorce advice right now. I just want her dead former friend to stop haunting my home.

    "And I just found out that Jacob's parents were killed in a car accident so I assume that he's been adopted or still living with foster family."

    "That's terrible."

    Right after Michael placed the phone back in his pocket it vibrated.

    Hopefully this is Julia finally deciding to call off the divorce.

    Michael pulled the phone from his pocket to discover that Jacob Pine accepted his f*******: friend request. Michael used his right hand to type Jacob the following message on f*******: messenger: "Hello Jacob. My name is Michael Blake and I live in your grandmother's old house. I would really like to meet you in person to discuss some issues I have been having with the house. And I know your grandmother loved to bake cookies. I know this is asking a lot but could you send me your address so I can meet you at your home, with an adult present of course. It will only take a few minutes. This is something that is best discussed in person and not over the phone. Thanks a lot. I look forward to meeting you."

    This Jacob is never going to get back to a total stranger.

    Michael started to put the phone back in his pocket when it buzzed once again. He looked at the screen at Jacob Pine's return message. "You are right about my grandmother. She really did like to bake cookies. I remember that from even when I was very young. I would love to meet you to find out more about a grandmother I wished I could have known better. My address is 68 Lionheart Lane, Saratoga Springs, NY. My foster dad and mom might be pissed that I invited a stranger to their home, but screw them. I am usually home from school at four pm on Wednesdays."

    "Awesome. Susan it appears that I will be meeting Frances Pine's grandson within the week. He just wrote back to me."

                                                                                    #

    Michael pulled his Honda Civic into an empty spot on the street directly in front of 68 Lionheart Lane. Michael stepped out of his car and gazed upon a two story brick structure with white columns adorning the front door. A perfectly cut lawn let up a slight hill to the home's front porch. A solitary tree stood atop the hill next to the front door, its leaves a bright yellow. A shadow from the tree fell upon the porch. On the hill's right was a gray gravel driveway with a silver BMW parked in front of a garage with white wood doors. Halfway up the driveway, another gravel path began leading to the front porch.

    The stones crunched under Michael's shoes as he walked up the driveway and eventually the path. The front door loomed larger with each one of his steps. Next to the front door was a large grey button. Michael pressed the button and a sound could be heard like three church bells ringing. On the third ring, a six foot four man answered the door. The man looked as if he hadn't shaved in days. He was dressed in a red flannel shirt, blue jeans and brown work boots.

    "Hi, sorry to bother you, but is this where Jacob Pine lives?"

    With a scowl, the man said, "And what if it is? Who the hell are you? Another asshole social worker here to check up on Jacob? We are just fine here-"

    "No, no, no. My name is Michael Blake. I currently live in the former home of his grandmother. I just have some questions about the old house that I live in."

    "And what if I don't let you in? You could be some kind of scammer or something," the man said revealing two rows of nicotine stained teeth.

    "I know it's weird a total stranger coming to your door, but it will only take a few minutes."

    "So all you want to do is see the kid and that's it? He did tell me someone might stop by."

    "Yeah, I am not some government spy."

    The man turned and yelled, "Hey kid, there's someone here to see you. I am Phil Hughes by the way. If you ever need some construction done on that old house of yours, just let me know. I am the CEO of Hughes construction. You've probably heard of us."

    "I see your billboards from time to time."

    Phil extended his hand to Michael. When Michael shook his hand he noticed two things, Phil's vice like grip and a small red bruise on his right knuckle. He led Michael down a black and white tiled polished floor to a door at the end of a long hallway. Two photographs on the hallway wall showed Phil in his construction hat with a woman who was most likely his wife. Michael didn't see any photos of Jacob anywhere.

    Phil knocked on the door and said, "Hey kid, you have a guest."

    "Let him in," the voice of a teenager whose voice was in the process of changing said.

    Michael walked into a room with a wood loft bed. Under the bed was a wood desk with a laptop computer. Above the dresser were hung two photographs of Lady Gaga. On the wall opposite the dresser, two paintings of Batman hung above another photograph of the original movie poster for Star Wars. A New York Yankees pennant hung above the Lady Gaga poster. Next to the window stood a bookshelf with every Harry Potter novel in chronological order.

    Michael closed the door behind him and walked up to Jacob, seated at his desk with his back to him. Jacob wore jeans, blue sneakers and a gray hooded sweatshirt, most likely the same sweatshirt from his f*******: photo. Jacob slowly turned his head to reveal a head with black bangs covering the forehead. Michael also noticed a very faint bruise on the side of Jacob's left temple.

    "Hello Jacob. I am Michael Blake. I am a high school teacher but now live in your grandmother's old house out on Mulberry Lane," Michael said extending his hand to Jacob.

    After shaking Michael's hand, Jacob rubbed the bruise with his right hand. "Got this from a fight at school. I am sorry about Phil. I hope you didn't piss him off. He acts like a big shot, but his construction business isn't going well lately."

    "I don't think I pissed him off. I actually teach English at Stillwater High School. You must be in the eighth grade. I was obsessed with Batman too. I still have some of the comics buried at my mother's downstate somewhere. Ben Affleck makes a pretty good Batman"

    "I am more partial to Christian Bale. Batman and I have a lot in common, for one we both lost parents at a young age."

    "Yeah, I read about that. I am really, really sorry."

    "And no one wants to adopt a fourteen year old kid. All the infertile parents want are babies so I will be stuck in foster parent hell until I am eighteen."

    I don't even know what to say to him. This kid has had a terrible life and I am about to ask his assistance in getting a ghost out of my home.

    "My father left when I was young. My mother raised me all by herself. The Yankees will be better one of these years," Michael said with a laugh.

    "Social services had the nerve to place me with foster parents who are die hard Red Sox fans. They wanted to take me to Fenway Park, but I refused to go. I have never been to the new Yankee Stadium yet, have you?"

    "Yes just once last summer. It looks kind of like the old stadium but with the feel of a giant shopping mall. It's also very expensive. So what literary masterpieces do they have you eighth graders reading?"

    "We just had to read A Christmas Carol."

    "Classic Dickens."

    "I actually like it so far instead of seeing its many, many film adaptations. It was pretty cool to see how the ghosts can influence the life of a person and change him."

    "Funny you should mention ghosts. You might send me to the insane asylum after what I am about to tell you but I am living in the home of your grandmother, Frances Pine. She died of a heart attack in the basement-

    "Where she used to bake those cookies."

    "Yes, yes. But again, this might sound nuts to you but she is haunting my home. My wife and I have seen cabinets fly open and have smelled the baking of the cookies. I even saw an apparition of her once in the basement. I recently consulted a medium named Beatrice who said that I would need you in some form of séance to help your grandmother move on. Apparently she is trying to communicate with you. Would you be willing to come to my house sometime? I could pay you of course and we would have to clear it with your foster father."

    Jacob's mouth stood open and he rubbed his temples with both hands.

    "So you think I am crazy?" Michael said. "I can have you stop by to see for yourself."

    "No it does not sound insane. It sounds like the coolest thing ever."

    "Ok. We'll have to set something up but I am going through a divorce with my wife so it might have to wait."

    "I have some fond memories of that old house. I would love to go. Sorry to hear about your divorce. Is there any hope for you to get back together with your wife?"

    "No, no. I did a really bad thing to her. I am beyond hope."

    Jacob reached behind his laptop and pulled out his paperback copy of A Christmas Carol and said, "This book also teaches us and anyone can be redeemed."