“I don’t understand.”
“Well, it’s like there’s no distinction between the images and thoughts he sends me, and the ones I pick up from you. You must have been very close.”
“We still are.”
The woman smiled and nodded.
“I’ve often dreamed of a love like that. A love that withstands even death.”
I took another drink and stared at the woman hard.
“I need to contact him. I need someone that can help me reach him.”
“I’m not a medium, not in the usual sense, anyway. My gifts are more like enhancement. If an energy is there, I can draw it out. But I have the sense you’re looking for something…”
“More real,” I blurted, not knowing what it meant. “I want someone who knows about death, not just light and angels and energy. I need Hermes, the God who can travel into the Underworld and bring Sammy back.”
The woman dropped her gaze, frowning. She stayed quiet for a moment more and then seemed to come to a decision. She left the room, and I waited, glancing toward the window and the dark night.
Returning, she handed me a small sheet of parchment paper.
“There’s a book I’ve heard of. It contains a story, and rumor has it, it’s a true story. My advice is that you start there. It may not be easy to find. It’s been out of print for a few years.”
I looked at the sheet of paper and read The Summoning by Fletcher Wolfe.
CHAPTER 18
Then
Corrie
“I am the eternally gorgeous Bride of Frankenstein,” I told Sarah, holding up the moth-eaten wedding gown I had bought at the Salvation Army. Sammy’s mother had improved upon the dress, adding green lace and black stitching. I would dye my creamy brown hair black for the occasion and pile it high on my head, run through with cobwebs and bones.
I heard Sammy downstairs, directing his mother.
“Yes, exactly. Little fangs come out of the baby’s mouth. Head blown partially off.”
Sarah cocked her head.
“He‘s wearing a Total Recall costume? Veering from the traditional horror cast?” she asked.
“Yep, he says he’s overdone Dracula and the Werewolf, so he’s onto space aliens.”
“Humph, well, I’m sticking to my usual slutty chick in a position of power role. I think this year, I’m getting a Sexy Construction Worker outfit.”
“Positions of power, huh?”
“Hell yeah. What’s more powerful than holding a jack hammer between your legs?”
“I don’t think that’s where you hold one,” I laughed, and laid the dress back on the bed, careful to keep it on the plastic sheet Sammy’s mother had laid out.
“We could shorten this up, maybe bring down the bust a foot or so, and you’d be right there with me,” Sarah said, touching the beaded neckline.
I grinned and imagined Sammy’s face when I showed up as Sexy Bride of Frankenstein.
“No way. Two shots, and Sammy would try to reproduce in the laundry room.”
Sarah guffawed and yelled to Sammy.
“Corrie wants fishnet stockings with her costume, Mom.”
“Fat chance,” Sammy called back. “Plus, that dress is going to have a train. No one will even see your stockings, love.”
I shook my head and listened to Sarah and Sammy argue back and forth about the importance of nylons, no matter how long the skirt.
“Icy’s with your sister?” Sarah asked, holding her white t-shirt away from her stomach and inspecting a tiny stain. “Damn, I must have spilled iced tea.”
“Yeah, she’s staying the night. I told Amy we needed your mom’s undivided attention for the costume prep.”
“And a night alone?” Sarah asked, winking at me.
I grinned.
“We’re always grateful for a night alone. After we’re done with the costumes, we’re headed downtown to get fat on pastries, drink too much coffee, and catch a movie at the State Theatre - the perfect Saturday night.”
“What’s playing?” Sarah squatted down as our two cats lumbered in. They rarely went anywhere without the other.
“Honey, come here, sweet girl,” Sarah cooed, beckoning to our older female cat whose gray fur was silky soft. Dracula pushed Honey out of the way and reached Sarah’s outstretched fingers first, planting his plump orange body in Honey’s path.
“We’re seeing Gone with the Wind. I had to promise Sammy we’d watch The Exorcist tomorrow to make up for it.”
Sarah laughed, gently pushing Dracula onto his side and rubbing his belly. He affectionately bit her hand. “I hate to say it, Corrie, but I find both of your tastes in movies rather appalling. Isn’t there a new X-Men or something a little more action-packed showing?”
I sighed and gave her a dreamy look.
“Wolverine can’t hold a flame to Rhett Butler.”
I leaned down as Honey sauntered my way. As my fingers reached for her, she stopped, her hair standing on end.
“Hey, pretty girl. What’s that look for?”
Her green eyes grew wide and she bared her teeth, hissing before she raced from the room.
“Jeez, way to make a girl feel loved,” I called after her, laughing.
Sammy rushed into the room and ripped open his green button-down shirt to reveal a grotesque baby torso dangling from his stomach. Kuato, the mutant seer from Total Recall, had been Sammy’s costume choice, and I recoiled at its vacant, staring eyes.
“God, Mom is good at this shit,” Sarah said, touching the waxy face and grimacing.
“Last chance to go as the mutant hooker with three boobs,” Sammy exclaimed, lunging toward me.
I swatted him away.
“Ooh yeah,” Sarah agreed, her face lighting up. “Corrie, that would be hot and gross! It’s perfect.”
I shook my head and rolled my eyes toward Sammy.
“Can you imagine him if I had three breasts? Like a dog in heat.”
Sammy dropped to his knees. He whimpered and wrapped himself around my feet, legs and arms in the air.
“Do you ruv me?”
“Too much,” I groaned, nudging the dead baby with my foot. “But that thing gives me the creeps. I don’t think you’ve outdone Dracula. You could go as Nosferatu this year?”
“1998, love. Remember? I was Nosferatu, and you were my busty victim covered in little bite marks. Ugh, in that sexy gray dress with the lace…” He rolled around and howled.
“Get a room, or a dog house,” Sarah laughed.
“Speaking of getting a room, who are you bringing to the Halloween party this year, sis?” Sammy asked, propping himself up on one elbow.
Sarah scrunched her face and shrugged.
“Nobody currently in my sights, but Gloria is planning a ladies-only skate trip, so maybe I can rustle one up.”
“Ladies only or lesbos only?” Sammy asked, grabbing my ankle and trying to lick it.
“Stop that,” I said, “down, Fido.”
“All dikes. I hope, anyway,” she said, pushing a finger into one of the rubber baby’s bloodshot eyeballs. “Last year she brought her very straight sister on our ski trip, and I spent half a night coming on to her before someone broke the news. Usually I have a pretty good sense for these things, but damn, the woman is almost six feet tall and has her hair buzzed clear off.”
“But tell us about the skate part,” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Roller skates. Yes, it’s as ridiculous as it sounds. This is what happens when you become friends with a woman who has spent her entire adult life as an event coordinator on a cruise ship.”