VIII

Destiny glanced up at the attic window of the gothic funeral home for a second time. The ghostly woman was still there. She seemed to be looking right at Destiny with a frightening intensity.

“Brock,” Destiny whispered without moving her lips, making his name sound like rock. “Do you see that woman up there?”

“What woman?” he whispered back with a scowl. “Why are we whispering?”

“In the window up there,” she replied as she shifted her eyes toward Brock as she kept her head still. “Look slowly.”

She still didn’t move her lips, making look sound like wook. Not only did Brock not look slowly, he blatantly bent down and peered up out of the windshield.

“I don’t see anything,” he stated.

Now Destiny blatantly peered out of the windshield. She was gone; the window was empty.

“Huh,” she muttered. “I swear I saw a creepy looking woman in that window.”

“Just relax, Dee,” Brock chuckled. “This place is partly a gimmick to give people a different sort of funeral option and experience. You know, they’re purposely creepy and goth here.”

“Oh, I know,” she replied with a nervous laugh, feeling a little foolish.

Brock and Destiny removed themselves from the car, gathered their things and walked toward the funeral home. Destiny glanced up at the window and there stood the woman again.

“Brock, there she is, look!” she gushed.

Brock stopped and gazed up at the window. “I don’t see anything.”

She was gone again!

“But, she was just…” Destiny stammered as she gazed stupidly at the empty window.

Destiny recalled something from the haunted house episode of the old Andy Griffith television show. It was when Barney asked Andy if he saw the eyes moving in the painting of old man Rimshaw. When Andy looked, the eyes were still. When Barney looked, they moved. Great, she was behaving like Barney Fife.

Inside the gothic funeral parlor, it was like being taken back in time one hundred plus years. There was stained oak trim all over the place. There was a big chandelier and old fashioned looking lamps that were electric but flickered slightly, looking as if they were actually fire. There also was a big red brick fireplace with a real fire burning.

“Charley, it’s so good to see you,” Destiny heard Brock say as she noticed a female form wrapped in his embrace.

“I know, I know. How long has it been?” a sultry, smooth ladies voice responded.

“At least two, maybe three years,” Brock replied.

“Haven’t you been living in Iowa at least that long?”

“I have,” Brock replied as they separated from their embrace.

 Charley wasn’t necessarily beautiful in the classic sense, but she was striking. She was tall and slender with long, straight black hair. She had big amazing arctic blue eyes. There was something both warm and yet intense that radiated from her gaze. Could she be the woman from the window? No, the woman in the window wore off white garb. Charley wore a long, black lacey dress with a dark purple shawl that flowed past her tail bone. Glossy dark purple lipstick covered her thin lips. A nose ring twinkled from the left side of her long straight nose and two small loops protruded from her left eyebrow.

 “Charlotte, meet my wife Destiny,” Brock beamed as he waved an arm toward her.

Destiny took a deep breath and made her face become relaxed and friendly. She gave the gothic woman a big smile and extended her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Charlotte.”

“The pleasure’s mine, Destiny,” Charlotte’s deep, yet womanly voice purred. She ignored Destiny’s hand and hugged her. Destiny gave her an affectionate squeeze, as if they were long lost friends. “Please, my friends just call me Charley. My given name of Charlotte has become synonymous with a funeral hostess.”

“Okay, Charley,” Destiny replied cheerily as the two women separated. “And my friends call me Dee.”

Charley, Six, Brock and Destiny chatted for ten or fifteen minutes. Then Charley showed her guests to their room. The place was so big it reminded Destiny of an old hotel. As they settled in their room, Brock started acting a little strange.

“Say Dee will you please go down to the car and get my shaving bag?” Brock asked.

“Go get it yourself,” she said with both a frown and a chuckle.

“I, ah, took my shoes off,” he replied.

“So put them back on.”

“I, um, was about to take a quick shower.”

“Oh alright,” she sighed.

Destiny was so spent from the eventful day that Brock’s behavior didn’t make her suspicious. It was rapidly getting dark outside. As soon as she stepped into the hallway, she regretted agreeing to go after Brock’s shaving bag. The whole place had a gloomy vibe, even though it was very clean. When she was with Brock, the atmosphere seemed kind of fun. But by herself, she felt jumpy and skittish. As she made her way down the hall with growing apprehension, Charley suddenly emerged from a doorway, causing Destiny to jerk and gasp. The creamy scarf that she saw the woman in the window wearing was hanging over her shoulders.

“Shh, Dee, it’s okay,” Charley whispered. “Listen, your husband along with mine, had talked me into trying to freak you out. Six told me that you were this smoking hot and a well-known former, um, adult entertainer. Forgive me, but I just assumed you would be this dingy, stuck up snob. Instead you come across as so bright, warm, and sweet.  I just can’t go through with it.”

“So that was you up in the window?” Destiny asked.

 She nodded apologetically.

“Did Brock know about it?”

She smiled conspiratorially and nodded again.

“I should have known.”

“How would you like to turn the tables on the boys?” Charley asked quietly.

“I’d love to!” Destiny whispered excitedly.

“Not tonight, let’s just let it brew for a day or two,” Charley said with a smirk. “Here’s what I have in mind.”

Charley put an arm around Destiny’s shoulders and began to whisper a plan into her ear. Destiny loved it and was all in! Who would have thought she would end up bonding with that ghostly woman in the window.

“Brock, I saw her again,” Destiny panted as she tried to look as rattled as possible as she returned to their room.

 “Saw who?” Brock asked with concern, even though she noticed a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“You know,” she puffed. “That ghostly woman.”

“Where did you see her?”

“First I saw her right out in the hall. Then I saw her on the south side of the house when I was out at the car. It seemed like she just drifted right into the trees.”

“Now, Dee,” Brock scolded mildly. “You’re not gonna tell me you believe in ghosts are you?”

“No, but this place is just beyond creepy,” she whimpered. “Can we stay in a motel after tonight?”

“Dee, we’ll be fine. I’ll keep the boogey man away from you. I mean boogey woman.”

“Will you spoon me tonight when we sleep?”

“Absolutely, my little baby doll,” Brock assured her as he pulled her into an embrace.

With her head on his chest and hands splayed on his back, she detected a slight quiver. She was sure that he was trying to hold back a chuckle. Being privy to the boy’s plan to scar her, she had to stifle her own giggle.

“Easy, Dee, it’s okay,” Brock soothed as he rubbed her back.

This caused her suppressed giggle to become laughter. Brock pushed her away from himself and looked at her. “Dee, are you okay?”

She bit her lower lip hard enough that her eyes watered and she nodded. Brock looked at her concerned. She knew her big loving man was concerned the joke might be going too far. He would never want a joke to hurt anyone or cause pain. And she wanted to be able to reverse the joke on her oversized boy, so she now made herself appear calm.

“I’m just being silly,” she laughed. “It’s been a long day and I’m tired. What was that quote you love by that really good old time football coach? Fatigue makes cowards of us all.”

“Yeah, Vince Lombardi.”

“Well, I guess I’m just overcome with fatigue,” she shrugged.

“Will you be okay for another hour or so? Seven should be here any minute.”

As if on cue, the doorbell gonged.

“That’s probably him. You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I’ll be fine.”

As the couple made their way downstairs, a male voice could be heard ranting about the Minnesota Vikings. The body the voice was coming from had his back to them. A man maybe fifty pounds larger than Brock, and possibly just as fit, stood next to him. He appeared to be of mixed race, and among his numerous tattoos was a tear drop coming from an eye, indicating a prison stint. The speaking man had long dark hair and he swayed drunkenly as he rambled. From the back he reminded Destiny of Captain Jack Sparrow from the ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ movies. Then he turned around and her jaw dropped at the man’s resemblance to her husband.

“Just like I remember you, Seven,” Brock said with hands on his hips. “Unable to keep that mouth of yours shut.”

The smile left Seven’s scar free, pretty face that resembled Brock’s more than his own twin brother’s.

“Well, if it isn’t the baddest man in all the bad land,” Seven slurred, and then stared at his cousin with cautious bewilderment.

Brock chuckled and shook his head. Seven’s face relaxed and he grinned. Brock opened his arms and took a step toward him. Seven stepped elegantly toward Brock, even as he swayed and the two men embraced.

“Wow,” Brock said as the two parted. “Don’t light a match around Seven. How much have you had to drink?”

“Just a few cocktails,” Seven replied as he waved a hand dismissively, and then he turned his bleary gaze toward Destiny. “Well, well, this must be Mrs. Knight Storm. So very glad to meet you in the flesh.”

He stepped toward her and she extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Sallie.”

“We can do better than that,” Seven said as he grabbed Destiny in a clumsy embrace and held her firmly. “I’ve done some pretty thorough research on you since I found out you married my cousin. I must say, I’m a big fan. I beg you to come out of retirement.”

“How about you step away from my wife, dear cousin?” Brock asked as he clamped a hand on the back of Seven’s neck and yanked him away from Destiny. He then twisted his arm behind his back. “Funny, I came up here to do what I can to help you with death threats and now I feel like breaking your arm.”

“Let go of Seven right now, sir,” the big man accompanying Seven barked.

Brock did not follow the instructions, instead he calmly asked Seven who he was.

“He’s my bodyguard,” Seven squeaked. “Six said you weren’t gonna personally do it, so I found someone.”

“I said let go of him,” the menacing man demanded. “I’m not telling you again.”

“You don’t have to,” Brock said. “You’re fired.”

“That’s not up to you,” he replied as he grabbed Brock aggressively around his upper body.

Before anyone could perceive what was happening, the big man was flipping through the air and onto his back as if he were a rag doll. The big man popped up and a gun materialized in his hand. He started to speak, but Brock kicked out and knocked his legs out from under him. The big man landed with a thud and grunted. A second later his gun was in Brock’s hand. Seven sided up next to Brock with a dazed expression as he looked at the man who was supposed to be his bodyguard.

“I’m sorry, Monroe, but I’m gonna need to let you go,” Seven said calmly. “I’ve found someone better.”

“You owe me,” Monroe said bitterly as he brushed himself off.

“For what?” Seven said as he swayed and put his hands on his hips. “If Brock was a real attacker, I’d be dead or at least seriously injured, while my so called bodyguard lay flat on his back.”

Monroe hung his head and nodded.

“Seven, pay the man,” Brock barked. “He tried. I used to make well into six figures doing this, he didn’t know what he was up against.”

Seven looked at Brock with wide, frightened eyes and Brock chuckled, knowing what his cousin was thinking. “Don’t worry, you get the family rate.”

“Monroe,” Six piped up. “Don’t feel bad. Brock is the best of the best.”

“Man, don’t I know it,” Monroe replied, rubbing his neck. “I found that out the hard way. Usually I just have to look hard at somebody to do my job.”

“Let see,” Seven slurred as he pulled out his wallet, counted out some money and handed it to Monroe. “You’ve been with me two and a half days, I’ll pay you for five days.”

“Fair enough,” Monroe said as he snatched the bills and quickly left.

Seven watched him leave with a look of bewilderment. Then he scowled and waved a dismissive hand so aggressively, he stumbled.

“What’s your problem?” Six chuckled. “ From where I sit, things worked out rather favorably.”

“I just thought he’d do the honorable thing and give back the extra pay since he failed to do his job,” Seven replied as he reached inside his jacket.

“At least you didn’t pay him for five weeks,” Charley said with a giggle.

“True enough,” Seven replied as he pulled out a flask and took a long drink.

“What are you doing, man?” Six asked angrily as he tried to grab the flask from Seven.

Seven laughed childishly and ran away from his brother. Six didn’t give chase, but Seven ran into Brock’s proximity. He began to take another swallow from the flask as Brock came up behind him and engulfed him in a bear hug. Seven began to squirm and protest, but he was powerless against Brock’s size and strength. Brock began to say something into Seven’s ear. He stilled and listened, mesmerized. The three witnesses in the room leaned forward to hear what was being said, but couldn’t make out a word. After a minute, maybe two, Brock stopped whispering into Seven’s ear and released him. Seven turned and stared at Brock as if in awe.

“Yes or no?” Brock asked as he spread his arms.

“Yes,” Seven replied and handed Brock the flask.

Then Seven gave a couple of full body jerks and put a hand over his mouth. He raced to the bathroom and slammed the door. Seconds later the two couples heard him retching. Then the oven binged.

“Well, isn’t that appetizing?” Charley asked sarcastically. “Supper’s done.”