Chapter 20: Moving On
2583 Words
By 2am, Michael walked back up the porch steps to his home, his keys giggling in his right hand. Julia walked behind Jacob, never taking her hands off his shoulders on the walk back into their home. As soon as Michael turned the key to his front door, an orange light could be seen emanating from the kitchen window.
"It looks like your grandmother will be taking the time to greet us," Michael said as he pushed the front door open.
The aroma of chocolate chips burst outside the front door into the driveway. The orange light also streamed down through the front door, extending onto the porch steps. To any passerby on Mulberry Street, it would appear as if a small sun inhabited the Blake residence. The light was strong enough to brighten up the entire driveway all the way to the mailbox on the edge of Mulberry Street.
Michael walked into the front hallway and held the door open for Julia and Jacob. With each step into the Blake home, the aroma of baking intensified.
"My grandmother must be really pissed about something. Maybe we should leave here tonight and go to a motel or something. I have caused you guys enough trouble already," Jacob said.
"Nonsense. We are not getting chased out of this house again, ever. DO YOU HEAR THAT FRANCES. WE ARE STAYING," Michael said.
Suddenly, the orange light dimmed to almost nothing. The only light now illuminating the Blake home was from the hallway light bulb.
"Are you ok sweetie, is there anything I can get you?" Julia asked.
"No mom. You've saved my life tonight. You've already given me what I really wanted, a family of my own."
"No more talking about that stuff now," Julia said, hugging Jacob.
"And I know you will return the favor by helping your grandmother move on," Michael said.
"What do I have to do?"
"Participate in some sort of séance with this medium named Beatrice Nelson. I want this over with tonight and according to my research, séances should be held in the middle of the night anyway because that is when the spiritual energy is at its strongest," Michael said pulling out his cell phone from his pocket.
"She is not going to come here now honey," Julia said.
"If I pay her double she probably will. Tonight will be our tabula rasa, right Jacob."
"Sure Mr Bla-, dad. You guys don't really want to adopt me right? That talk wasn't just to get me off that bridge."
Michael walked up Jacob and placed his hands on his shoulders. "From here on our you're my son. The both of us have always wanted a child, someone to share our love with and help guide. I can't think of a better person than you. There are too many fatherless children and you're not going to be another statistic."
"Ever since you have been here I don't feel like you're some house guest, you're something more, a part of this home, a part of this family," Julia said.
"We were going to tell you this weekend," Michael said.
"I promised not to attempt to kill myself by jumping off any bridges or by any other means. You guys have been so nice to me and I would love to live here permanently. I could help you edit the book that you want to write."
"I am sure you could, but for now we have to take care of the spirit inhabiting our home." Michael dialed Beatrice Nelson's number and was surprised when she answered by the third ring.
"Hello Beatrice it's Michael Blake."
"Yes I remember," Beatrice said.
Julia and Jacob moved closer to Michael so they could hear his conversation.
"Anyway you could come to my home right now and hold this séance? I know I have given you no notice but you spirit has been very active tonight and the spirit's grandson is here to help us."
"His presence will help me help you have Frances move into the light."
"I can pay you double if you come right now. I don't think there's any hope for sleep for the three of us tonight anyway."
"I will be there within a half an hour. It's not the first time I have been woken up in the middle of the night to eliminate a ghostly infestation. Just get some candles, a table and chairs that you can put in your basement.
"That's great. I will also have my checkbook ready."
"That sounds even better. See you in a bit Mr. Blake," Beatrice said before hanging up.
Michael tucked his cell phone back into his jeans pocket. Julia walked up to him and held his hand and kissed it.
"Jacob there are some folding chairs behind the television. Would you grab them and place them in the kitchen for me. There should be a folding table that we can use already in the basement behind those metal shelves."
"Sure dad," Jacob said before jogging into the living room. Jacob flipped on the switch to the living room light. He reached around the television entertainment center and pulled out four steel folding chairs. Jacob took the chairs into the kitchen and leaned them against the oven.
While Jacob located the chairs, Julia ran into her bedroom and returned with three white candles inside their holders. "I hope we have some matches honey."
"We do," Michael said running into the kitchen. He pulled open the utensil drawer. Michael reached behind the plastic utensil holder and located and pair of matches that he tucked into his pocket next to his cell phone.
"Should we go down there yet?" Julia asked.
"Not we but me and Jacob. We can at least set up the table and chairs before Beatrice gets here and before Frances makes herself know again."
At that very moment, all of the kitchen cabinets opened on their own. Within ten seconds, the cabinets slammed back shut, breaking several of the dishes inside.
"Too late for that," Jacob said.
"Come on down with me son," Michael said.
Jacob followed Michael after he opened the basement door. The baking smell struck their nostrils immediately. Jacob flipped on the light before he headed down into the basement behind Michael. When they reached the basement, apart from the smell, they discovered nothing out of the ordinary. No boxes had flown off their shelves and no orange light sources emanated from the crack near the sink. The basement just appeared to be that, an ordinary basement.
Michael reached behind the shelf next to the sink and slid out a square table with its legs folded underneath. Michael placed the table upside down so he could unfold the legs. He then turned the table back over, placing it exactly in the middle of the basement floor.
"I'll be right back. I forgot the chairs," Jacob said before running up the stairs. With ten seconds he returned with two chairs under each arm.
Michael took the chairs from Jacob and placed one chair on each side of the table.
"Now we wait. Just a little more time Frances," Michael said. "Let's go on upstairs until the medium gets here."
Jacob followed Michael back upstairs into the kitchen. They found Julia seated at the kitchen table with Bogey seated in her lap.
"He isn't purring at all. Something is bothering him," Julia said as she stroked Bogey's head with her right hand.
The glasses began to rattle inside the kitchen cabinets. The basement door flew open so hard that the door banged into the wall.
"Aren't you guys scared?" Jacob asked.
"We're used to it. There are scarier things in life than ghosts."
The doorbell rang. Michael jogged down the hallway to answer the door. After opening his front door, the figure of Beatrice Nelson stood before him. Her gray hair, set back in a bun at the back of her head, a head that came up to Michael's chest. Beatrice was dressed in a long black dress, white stocking and black shoes.
"Good evening Mr. Blake. I promise tonight that together we will help your spirit move on."
"Thanks for coming on short notice," Michael said before reaching into his pocket to hand Beatrice a check.
Beatrice held the check in front of her large round glasses. "This is satisfactory Mr. Blake. We had better get started. This time of night is called the witching hour for spirits and for good reason."
"Right this way," Michael said as he led Beatrice into the kitchen.
Julia dropped Bogey on the floor and rose to shake Beatrice's hand. "Nice to meet you. My husband has told me all about you. Thanks for trying to help us."
"And this young man must be the sprit's grandson Jacob."
"That's right," Jacob said.
The oven door and kitchen cabinets opened and shut three time. The baking, burning smell enveloped the kitchen through the open basement door like a fast moving fog bank.
"We had best get started," Beatrice said walking towards the open basement door.
Julia grabbed the candles off the kitchen table.
Michael went over to lead Beatrice down the basement steps. Julia held Jacobs hand before they followed Michael into the basement.
Beatrice pulled a chair from the table's side and sat own. Soon after, Jacob, Michael and Julia sat in their respective chairs. Julia placed the four candles on the table equidistant from one another.
"Please, someone needs to light those before we can begin," Beatrice said in a voice slightly above a whisper.
Michael pulled the matches out of his pocket and lit all four candles.
"We will all need to join hands now so we can begin," Beatrice said.
Michael reached for Julia's hand. Julia took Jacob's hand who in turn took Beatrice's hand.
"I am trying to reach the spirit of Frances Pine. Please make your presence know to us," Beatrice said.
The table lifted an inch off the ground before settling gently back down to the floor. The four candles remained lit.
"Holy crap," Jacob said.
"We are here Frances to help you move into the light and to be at peace, but I need to know what you want so I can help you."
Two of the boxes slid off the shelves and dumped their contents onto the basement floor.
"What does she want Beatrice?" Julia asked as she squeezed Jacob's hand harder.
"I strongly sense that she wants to see her grandson. Frances always baked in her real life because she loved her grandson. Frances needs to know that Jacob is alright and being taken care of. I sense that Frances has been angry because Jacob has not been doing very well."
"I am here grandma. I just want you to know that I always loved you and wish I could have know you more."
"And Frances I would like you to know that from this night forward I consider Jacob my son. He will live here permanently and always be loved by us. We will take good care of him," Michael said.
"Jacob will be my son now Frances. I promise you that," Julia said before reaching over and kissing Jacob on the cheek.
"The Blakes have looked out for me ever since I have met them. I am honored that they have chosen to become my parents. We can all move on now grandma. Everything will be alright now. I feel very at home here."
From the crack in the wall by the sink, a gray orb emerged. The orb materialized into the spirit of Frances Pine, still holding her rolling pin and dressed in a white apron. Her hair was in a bun behind her head and the Blakes and Beatrice could see right through her body. Frances turned to smile at Jacob before a yellow light, this time emanating from the ceiling, filled the room. Frances waved one more time to Jacob before she was pulled into that light and could be seen no more. After Frances disappeared, the yellow light dimmed into nothingness. The only light source that now lit the basement were from the candles and the ceiling light bulb.
Beatrice let go of Michael's hand before saying, "That's it. Frances has moved onto heaven since she is now at peace. Frances really believes you two love Jacob very much. If she didn't she would not have moved on as quickly as she did."
Julia reached over to hug Jacob, "We do love our new son. It's all true."
"Then my work is done here. I would greatly appreciate it if you two could recommend me to anyone else you know suffering from a ghostly manifestation."
"We will but I don't know anyone. Let me show you out," Michael said.
"I can let myself out Mr. Blake. You three need to get some rest. I sense there's been too much conflict in this home, but I think that's over with for the foreseeable future," Beatrice said getting up from her chair. She walked up the basement steps.
Jacob and Julia blew out the candles before following Beatrice up the basement steps. Michael jogged over to lead Beatrice back into the kitchen.
Bogey greeted the quartet at the top of the stairs, meowing twice.
"So long. I am confident I am leaving a strong family."
Michael placed his arms on Jacob's and Julia's shoulders. They heard Beatrice walk out the front door and her car drive away.
Michael led his wife and son over to the couch. Jacob sat down between Julia and Michael. The three of them placed their respective hands behind their respective heads and closed their respective eyes. Within one minute the Blakes fell asleep, their arms touching one another. The Blakes appeared to be one giant unit instead of three individuals. The three Blakes didn't dream about ghosts anymore, but their future life together.
#
Four months later, Michael Blake sat at the folding table in his basement and typed the two words every writer looks forward to, "The End," on the page of his manuscript. Michael smiled and closed the computer. He leaned back in his folding chair and placed his hands behind his head, smiling.
The basement door opened and Julia and Jacob galloped down the stairs.
"This came in the mail today," Julia said handing Michael an envelope marked, "Saratoga Family Court." Julia sat down on her husband's lap while Jacob looked on. Julia wrapped her arms around Michael's waist.
Michael tore open the envelope and read its contents. "It's official. The adoption went through. You are now officially our son. Two things to celebrate today since I just finished my first novel, it's a ghost story, what a shocker right?"
"Weird that it feels like years to me that you guys have been my mom and dad."
"I feel the same way, " Julia said, getting up from Michael's lap and kissing Jacob on the forehead. Julia walked back over to Michael to kiss him on the mouth. "Let's go upstairs. I made a cake." Julia put her arms around Jacob's shoulders. Michael watched them walk up the stairs together.
On his way up to join his wife and son, Michael thought of the words of another writer. Tolstoy was right, all happy families are alike. They're alike because each member shares their love for one another. It's that very love that sustains harmony, eliminates conflict and generates peace.
THE END
- Writer
