Marie Bartek & The SIPS Team - Books 1-3

Chapter 2

On Saturday, sleeping in until eight-thirty was a treat for Marie, especially when her days usually began before sunrise. The balmy sun felt good against her face as she tugged on her wetsuit. Even though it was June, the water temperature in the ocean was still a bit chilly. She went out to the enclosed sun porch, stretched her arms and legs, and smelled the salt from the ocean and the sweet scent of roses from her garden. The aroma of that combination never got old.

Once her muscles felt limber, she jogged the five hundred feet to the water"s edge and slowly submerged herself. When the ocean floor disappeared from under her feet, she began to swim her laps. Every ounce of stress vanished from her mind and each stroke she took left her feeling exhilarated and renewed. Her thoughts were jammed and fuzzy when she first woke this morning, but as the ocean water splashed her face, her mind became clear.

She was excited about the paranormal group meeting at her place that evening. She tried to come up with a title for the society all week. There was one particular name that seemed to fit, and she hoped the rest of the group would agree.

She finished her final laps and headed to the shore to catch her breath and do her post-swim stretches. Her decision to swim in the ocean was a good one. Normally she swam in her indoor lap pool, but the day was too perfect to stay inside. She watched the seagulls swoop down to catch their breakfast as she checked her pulse. Rising to her feet, she saw a quick shadow out of the corner of her eye and then it disappeared. She shook her head and spun around in all directions but saw nothing.

Marie"s walk back was less carefree than her earlier jog, but she ignored those feelings and chose to admire her buttercup wood-sided two-story cottage with the wraparound porch. The oversized, bright-red painted rockers gently rocked in the breeze. She felt blessed to have been able to purchase the cottage but having the loss of her favorite aunt and godmother was a heavy price to pay. Her aunt Ruth never married and died of breast cancer in the prime of her life. She left Marie a very large trust fund, which allowed her to purchase the beachfront property for a mere seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. In today"s market, it could easily sell for a million and a half. Something Marie had no intentions of doing.

She arrived at her front porch and immediately smelled the breakfast blend coffee brewing. Having a timer on the coffee pot was a great tool. She poured herself a cup and grabbed a skillet from the dishwasher. Buckwheat pancakes were the choice for this morning as she poured the batter into the pan. After adding blueberries to the mix, she popped some bacon into the microwave, set the timer, and tried to wiggle out of her wetsuit. She grabbed some dry clothes from the laundry room and slipped them on. Swimming always gave her a huge appetite, and breakfast was her preferred meal of the day.

The views from her kitchen were magnificent with the ocean extending as far as the eye could see. A variety of seagrasses covered the dunes, and wild purple flowers fluttered in the wind. While waiting to flip her pancake, she watched the white-capped waves thrash as the early tide came in and left seashells behind on the sand.

Marie had breakfast on the sun porch and read The Island Eye News newspaper. She smiled at the article of the dedication to the Ben Sawyer Bridge. Marie planned on attending that ceremony, but she"d had an emergency bowel obstruction on a poodle. She spotted Chief Miller standing in the group photo.

The Island Eye News“It is true what they say about men in uniform,” she said.

After breakfast, she poured another cup of coffee and meandered around the back of the house to clean up the palm tree fronds that were left on the ground after the last storm. Just as she set her coffee cup down on the porch railing, the little boy spirit who"d appeared in her clinic was standing two feet in front of her. Marie froze. After what felt like an eternity, she saw the little boy"s mouth move but couldn"t make out what he was saying. The only words she heard were help and danger. When she tried to ask what he was saying, he disappeared.

helpdangerMarie tried to catch her breath when Gale popped up behind her.

Gale saw Marie"s pale face. “Whoa, I didn"t mean to scare you. Who were you talking to?”

Marie grasped the railing and sat on the deck step. “It was the same little boy from the clinic. Only this time I heard him talking.” She dropped her head into her hands. “I could only make out the words help and danger. Wow, that was really creepy.”

Gale sat down next to her and draped her arm on Marie"s shoulders. “I think tonight"s meeting is going to be very interesting, don"t ya think?”

Marie picked up her head and faintly smiled. “Yeah, very.”

Gale took a quick sip of Marie"s coffee and changed the subject. “Do you need any help straightening up the garage?”

Marie answered, “No, I cleaned last evening. I was having a little trouble sleeping. I got the ceiling fan working, plus the air conditioner. We should be plenty comfortable.”

Gale asked, “Hey, did you see the Ben Sawyer article? Didn"t Chief hunk Cory look great? He asked about you, by the way. I told him about the poor poodle. He said he might stop by tomorrow to check up on how things are out this way, so to speak.”

Marie chuckled and said, “You are bent on getting us hooked up, aren"t you? Look, let"s go inside and start organizing our paperwork for SIPS.”

“What the heck is SIPS?”

Marie walked up the deck stairs. “It"s the new name for the group. What do you think? Sullivan"s Island Paranormal Society. I came up with it this week. I was hoping it would fit.”

Gale followed her into the mud room and almost tripped over a huge suitcase. “What is all this? I almost broke my toe.”

Marie pushed the case out of the way. “Oh, sorry, it"s the equipment I"ve been gathering.” She noticed Gale"s confused look. “You know a few digital voice recorders, some two-way radios, LED flashlights, and a digital camera. Hey, you didn"t tell me what you thought of the name.”

Gale stepped over the case and sat on the bench. “Well, let me see. SIPS, it sounds kind of cool. I never thought we"d be calling ourselves anything.”

Marie opened the case and started to place the equipment on the antique walnut dining table she purchased in Gale"s shop. “Well, of course, we"re going to have a name. I want to trademark it and become official. There"s a lot more to this than just hunting ghosts. Come on, help me take this stuff to the garage and get ready for our meeting.”

Gale moaned and helped move the equipment and some chairs into the room over the garage. “Gotta admit it,” she said, “you have a certain sense of style when it comes to decorating. When you bought those antique pieces in my shop, I had reservations about how it would look in a beach cottage. Who would have thought walnut furniture would go in a pale blue room with an oversized blue striped cushioned chair and flowered couch?”

They worked the rest of the day organizing the SIPS headquarters and preparing finger foods for the meeting. As the time drew near, Gale decided to head home to shower and bring back her tequila. She made it clear she wanted to have a few margaritas before they started talking about ghosts and paranormal activity.

Myra was the first to arrive. She brought chips and salsa and a huge binder stuffed with paper. She told Marie and Gale it was all of her notes and journals from the years of being a medium. Folks around Sullivan"s Island thought Myra was a bit eccentric with the way she dressed. Tonight, she was wearing fuchsia pants and a blue paisley blouse with high heeled shoes. Her earrings matched the bright red blush she wore on her cheeks, and the oversized rings swirled around her bony fingers. Myra was only sixty-two, but all the years of smoking gave her the appearance of an eighty-year-old.

Jim, Mimi, and Tim arrived next. Jim and Mimi were obviously having a heated conversation because Mimi was spouting off to Jim, while Tim just shrugged when Marie opened the door. Tim barely fit through the door with his six-foot-five frame. He had the perfect build for a Fire Chief. He kept his brown hair cut in military style, but his most dominant trait was his piercing blue eyes, which Gale commented on quite frequently, although Marie was convinced it was Tim"s very large hands and feet that intrigued Gale.

Jim and Mimi were complete opposites in their looks. Jim was as tall as Marie and weighed less than Myra, whereas Mimi was squat and a foot shorter than Jim. They immediately stopped their arguing and sat on opposites sides of the table and stared at each other. Everybody was used to their display and ignored them as they gathered around and sat down.

Harry was the last to arrive and quietly said hello to everyone before he sat next to Jim. His glasses had the usual tape on the sides holding them together. His gray hair was tousled and the second button on his vest was missing. Marie couldn"t figure out how he could wear a suit in this kind of weather. The sweat trickled over his brow as he continuously wiped it with a handkerchief. No matter how hot it got, Harry never loosened his tie.

Marie poured her margarita and sat down. “Hi everyone, I"m so glad we were able to get together. I know how difficult it is to get our schedules organized. Gale and I have been talking about developing a paranormal group for almost five months. After putting out our feelers, I think we have a pretty solid group to begin with.”

Myra replied, “I"m excited to be doing this, Marie. You know I"ll help out every way I can, but I don"t have a clue about ghost hunting.”

Mimi stopped glaring at Jim and said, “I"m excited too. If I remember conversations from before, we"ve all had experiences in one way or another. Am I correct?”

Tim popped a vegetable pizza square into his mouth. “Well, I haven"t had anything concrete. Just some strange things I hear at the fire hall. Although, some of the guys claim they’ve seen shadows.”

Harry wiped his brow again and placed the handkerchief back into his vest pocket. “I"d say I"ve experienced quite a bit of paranormal activity, as well as exorcisms. I"m a little skeptical about going out on ghost hunts, though. I don"t believe in trying to find them. You can create more issues than you"re prepared to deal with.”

Marie nodded. “I think having different opinions will only make our ghost hunts more precise. Jim, do you have anything you want to add?”

Jim drained his margarita glass and ignored Mimi"s dropped open jaw. “Yes, I"d like to know how legitimate we"re going to be.”

Marie smiled. “I"m glad you asked. I actually thought of a name for our group. It"s really pretty basic. What do all of you think of SIPS, Sullivan"s Island Paranormal Society?”

Myra smiled and nodded. “I like it. I think it fits well. Don"t you, Harry?”

“I don"t have anything against it,” he answered.

Mimi said, “Yes, I believe it suits us well. Don"t you, Jim?”

Jim shrugged his shoulders. “Sure, that"s fine.”

Tim poured his second margarita. “I like it. Gale, what do you think?”

Gale coyly smiled back at Tim. “I agree. I think the name fits perfectly.” She glanced over at Marie. “What do we have to do to make it official?”

Marie stood up and walked around the room. “Well, I determined what we need is a trademark for the name. I went out and searched the process on the U.S. Patent and Trademark website. I searched their database to make sure nobody has the name, then I downloaded the forms; I thought we"d go over them now. I don"t want to waste any time because it will take four months to hear back if we"ve been granted the trademark.”

For the next three hours, the group reviewed the paperwork and watched the how-to video off the government website and decided to split the cost of the filing fee. They discussed possible sites to investigate and shared their ideas of creating a solid process to do an investigation. They all agreed they wanted to come across as professionals. They decided to bring the equipment they had to the next meeting, which would take place the first Saturday of each month. If there was any specific piece of equipment they wanted, then the group as a whole would purchase it.

It was eleven-thirty when Marie finally kicked off her flip flops and sank into her antique, queen-size bed. She couldn’t have cared less if her clothes were still on. The meeting was a success, and she was elated that things were formally starting. It felt good sharing her reasons with everyone for wanting to create SIPS. It didn"t faze anyone that she was seeing and hearing spirits again after all these years. Actually, it was a relief telling everyone. As she chuckled at some of the conversations that took place within the group that evening, she slowly nodded off to sleep.