~ Ghost Music Of Vaudeville ~

by

Billie A. Williams

Mary’s non-stop barrage of chatter hammered against Charlie like a jack hammer. She recoiled into the door on her side of the car.

“Charlie, it’s me, Mary... Are you...?” Her friend’s voice sounded concerned. But, Charlie couldn’t shake her thoughts. Her thoughts wandering back to Oliver Beeblebox and that horrid cul-du-sac where she was chained in with all the mosquitoes and bugs and dark, and wolf howls... she started shaking uncontrollably.

Mary reached out and touched her shoulder. “It’s okay Charlie. It really is. Mrs. Wentworth is expecting you. She’ll have you work the desk for a few days until you are ready to go out...” She paused and just held Charlie waiting.

“I’m okay really, I--it was just the leaves, and the dark clouds and the wind blowing so horribly strong. It’s too early for winter.”

Mary smiled, “You’re right, it is. Now why don’t you turn your car off and we’ll go inside where it’s warm and bright.”

The urge to bolt and run slowly subsided and Charlie switched off the engine of the Escort. She pulled her purse from the center console and put her hand on the door. It was as though she was a foreigner in a world she knew intimately three months ago. Today she wasn’t sure she knew her name let alone what it was she was supposed to do here. As she rounded the front of the car she saw the big banner draped across the front of the Ironwood Daily Globe building. “Welcome Back, Charlie, our favorite reporter.”

Mary slid her arm into the crook of Charlie’s elbow, “Come on we’ve been waiting for you.” Her smile seemed to erase the last bit of dread from Charlie’s insides, though it still lurked in her mind as if hiding behind a corner just waiting to jump out again. Would she ever again feel safe in this environment, in this town that had provided her sanctuary when she needed it? At the moment Charlie wasn’t ready to bet on it.

“Guess who’s here,” Mary announced as she led Charlie into Abigail Wentworth’s office overlooking the park and lake behind the building.

Abigail held out her hands, “It’s so good to have you back.” Grabbing her hands, Abigail held both of Charlie’s hands in her own searching her face as though looking for a sign that all was well. “Are you sure you’re ready to be back?”

“Thank you for your concern.” She pulled her hands from Abigail’s. “Really, I appreciate it. But I think I have been off too long already. You know what they say when you fall off a horse? Well, I think it’s time I got back up on mine, don’t you?” She turned and plopped down in the chair across from Abigail’s desk, sliding her purse to the floor beside her.

Mary shrugged her shoulders and turned to leave, “I’ll come by and get you for lunch if you want,” she said to Charlie.

“Okay, sounds good,” the response a half hearted reply. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to be on the street. What if another Neanderthal man like Joe Smozack tried to grab her again?

“David said he might be at the café if he can get away,” Charlie’s mind clutched at the comfort and security David’s presence had brought to her life; order out of chaos, calm out of the storm. His support was immeasurable.

“Great, he’s always fun to have around,” Mary said closing the door behind her with a wink at Abigail.

Abigail walked back to her desk and slid her slender body into the desk chair. It seemed to swallow her up, Charlie thought.

“What do the doctors say about your returning to work?”

“They seem to think the sooner I get my mind on other things the sooner I’ll be able to forget about Oliver,” she hesitated as though just the mention of his name would bring him back to haunt her.

Abigail slid forward on her chair and placed her hands on the desk top. “Charlie, you know Oliver Beeblebox will never leave the institution for the criminally insane where they have put him. His morbid quest is over. People like him are a once in a life time encounter.”

Charlie looked at the stark dark eyes of Abigail Wentworth; she had always been her mentor, her trusting guide. She should trust her now, but she wasn’t quite ready to trust herself let alone any one else. “I know, inside I know, but I’m having a hard time believing if...” Her mind slid back to the frail looking little accountant who loved cats, loved his deceased wife, and yet... “How could anyone as innocent and weak looking as him...” she was afraid to say his name. She had not uttered his name more than five times since he had kidnapped her and hauled her to that cottage in the woods. “How could hate turn him into such a monster?” Tears threatened to spill over from the wells puddling in her eyes.

Abigail slid out from behind her desk and hurried over to crouch down in front of Charlie covering her hands that lay folded in her lap with her own. Charlie felt a smile slide across her lips at the memory of Marblesque Two who had been the replacement for--she didn’t want to continue that thought. It was too painful. Losing Marblesque was the first pain in that long journey into darkness at the hands of Oliver Beeblebox and the Xeno Labs. Neither were connected and yet they converged on her simultaneously--the Labs and Oliver.

Then Abigail tipped Charlie’s face to meet her gaze. “It’s going to be all right. There is only one like him. There will be no others. You can’t let him destroy your life. You are safe and David needs you, I need you, and Marblesque needs you.”

Charlie let a smile creep over her turning the corners of her mouth just slightly. “Poor Marblesque, she has been such a trooper. She curls up by me, never leaving my side. I wonder what she’ll think when I leave her alone all day. This is the first time since--” Charlie stopped again unwilling, unable to go on. “Do, do you have an assignment for me?” she said taking in a large breath of air, hoping to wash the pain of the last three months away.

Abigail stood patting Charlie on the shoulder. “You bet I do... I have several I planned to divide between you and Mary. She has come along way since she first started here. I think you will really be impressed with her work.”

Charlie smiled. She liked Mary from the very beginning and thought she would make a great investigative reporter. “I’m sure I will.”

The list Abigail handed her had several of the monthly town meetings that had become a regular beat for any new reporter, then there was one that really interested her, the old Keith Vaudeville Theatre was to be razed to make room for a high rise apartment complex. “What’s this all about?” she said pointing to the Keith Theatre note.

“Oh that, I think the Historical Society should get involved and save that old building. Its décor is beautiful and representative of a long passed era.”

“Not to mention the people who have lived in those apartments since... well since I was a little girl. What will happen to them?”

Charlie’s mind started to reel. “How cruel to just put people out on the street because some Real Estate baron has is eyes on more money.”

Abigail shrugged, and let a sigh escape. “It’s frustrating, but if the interest isn’t there...” she let the phrase hang without finishing it as she shuffled a stack of papers on her desk.

“Well, may be we can garner some interest. I’ll talk to Ruth Able from the Historical Society before I even go over to the theatre and see what she has to say about it. Who owns that old building? I mean who would this, this, what’s his name?”

“King, rather Damien Callistrari, nick name King,” Abigail said looking at the notes on a pad next to the phone.

“King? Does he think he is or is it other people think he acts like one?”

“From what I hear he thinks he rules more than just his buildings.”

“Well, I’m up for a challenge. I may just have to interview our--King--Callistrari.”

Abigail smiled, “It’s good to have you back Charlie.”

Charlie stood, grabbing her purse as she did. “Glad to be back,” she said finally meaning it. “Office?”

“Same place, unless you want to change it.”

Charlie turned with her hand on Abigail’s office door knob, “No, that’s fine. It’s like coming home, finally.”