Thursday, April 26, 2012

THE TENDER OF SPIRITS / By RAY RAMOS / PART TEN / COPYRIGHT 2012


When Bob got back to his place, he was fried. Bob just had too many things running through his mind, and too many people on his radar all at once. He plopped himself on his old warn living room chair.
“Isabel, could you do me a huge favor and grab me a beer.. I need a beer and just don’t have the friggin' energy to move.”
“Yeah, sure,” said Isabel.
Bob mustered up a smile, he knew he truly was extremely fond of her. Then Bob lifted his hand with a little wave.
“Mamma, if you mind, I’m just gonna sit down and shut my eyes for a few minutes.”
“You go right ahead, Bobby.”
“Isabel, can you please, kinda help Mamma with...”
Bob smiled and closed his eye briefly, that’s all it took; he didn’t notice Isabel standing in front of him, with the beer. He had gone off to Dreamland.

“Don’t worry; I think Mamma would like a little tour of the boardwalk sights... oh, I'm talking to myself.”
“No, you ain't... and I sure would! After all dat sittin’, let’s go babygirl!’”
Isabel looked over at his, and then whispered to Mamma.
“Bobby looks so tired.”
“He got a lot of crawfish on his plate.”
Isabel took a second to register that one.
“You gotta tell me, what’s really goin’ on. Please!
“Shish, child,” she said, putting her finger up to her mouth.
Mamma, motioned for them to leave quietly.
The old Voodoo lady and redheaded Unicorn crept out of the apartment, leaving Bob laying there in a sort of suspended animation.

Isabel helped Mamma Basco, down the stairs.
“You gotta tell me what’s goin’ on. Maybe, I can help?”
Mamma Basco laughed. “Child, you don’t want to be tangling with what Bob’s messin’ with.”
“Does his place have a ghost? Is it Jim Morrison? That would be so rad!”
“Who dat?”
The dead singer for the Doors… they were from right here in Venice… there's a mural of him down the alley, I’ll have to show you.”
“Well, it’s ain't a man. And it ain’t his place neither! It’s at his ex-wife's joint.”
“His ex-wife? Bob was married?”
 “Yeah, she done picked up some old thing, at a flea market or somethin’ dat was possessed, and then she came runnin’ to Bobby.” Mamma basco, shook her head and let out a sigh.
Why to Bob? Shouldn’t she get help from a priest or call some of those ghost hunting guys on cable TV? You ever see those shows? They’re so corny. I’ve just felt a cold spot,” Isabel said, mockingly.
“Nah, dat’s phony baloney stuff. I'm talkin' bad juju.You know Bob’s got the gift, to tend to spirits… and I ain’t talkin’ about them drinks he serves at the bar, neither.”
“What? Really? That's epic! He's so rad!"
Isabel then looked over at the old woman, who was checking out the Venice Boardwalk folk.
And you? I don’t think you really came all the way from New Orleans to see Venice?”
“No," said Mamma Basco, " but since I’m hear, you’re gonna show me the local sights.”

Bob opened his eyes and found himself on his paradise beach. Miss Leoni was lying with her arms folded resting on his stomach there smiling at him…  so beautiful.
“It took you long enough to wake up sleepy head… where do you think you are… in my classroom?”
A smile was just about to cross his lips when, a look of sheer terror fell on Miss Leoni’s face. Before either could react, she was yanked down into the sand and disappeared from sight. Bob began to dig madly looking for her, screaming her name, as he pushed the sand back. But it was too late, she was gone.

Karen was trying to wake Bob, as he thrashed about. Finally, his tear filled eyes opened and he looked at her, out of breath and sweaty, barley able to speak.
“Bob, what happened?”
Bob looked at Karen, like a little lost boy, the blood seemed to be drained from his face,“It got her… she’s gone.”
“Who’s gone? Miss Leoni?”
Karen put her hand up to her mouth.
“No Bob, it must have been just a bad dream?”
“No. It was Willa Reese!”
Bob dropped his head down; his breathing  seemed labored.
“I can’t loose her again… I just can’t.”
Karen was at a loss, she had never seen him like this before… it scared her.
“I won’t.”
Karen wedged herself in the chair with him and put her arm around him, to comfort him.
“Bob, you’ll find her. I know you will.”
He didn’t answer her, and that scared her even more. She didn’t notice the sound of people talking, coming up the stairs. It was Mamma Basco and Isabel, Karen was startled when the two walked in the door… as were they, finding Karen holding Bob in the chair.
“What’s happened to him? Is he okay?” said Isabel, eyeing Karen. She seemed weary of Karen's presence more than enything.
“I think, He’s in shock or something?”
Mamma Basco made her way over to them. Karen looked at her and somehow immediately knew who she was.
“Mamma Basco?” Karen said with a hint of disbelief.
“The one and only. Now, what happened to my Bobby boy?”
“He had a bad dream or something…”
Mamma Basco clenched her crooked teeth and gave Karen a look that chilled her to her bones.
“What exactly, did he say?”
“He said that in his dream, the spirit of Willa Reese, snatched away…”
"Snatched who away?" Mamma Basco said.
Karen found herself, unknowingly looking over at Isabel.
“Miss Leoni… his teacher.”
Now, Isabel had no idea what was going on?
“The spirit, done took someone?” Mamma Basco, said cautiously. Karen over at Mamma Basco, and shook her head.
“Miss Leoni’s been dead for twenty years.”
Now, Isabel looked completely perplexed to what was going on.
“Oh, this one is bad,” said Mamma Basco. Then the old woman, said, “Where’s the hard liquor girl? Anything, that packs a punch?!”
“I know he's got some. I saw some Jack Daniels in the cabinet.”
“Well get it! We gots a situation here!”
“What should I do?” said Isabel.
“You just stay out of my way and sit there, young lady.”
Mamma Basco pointed her crocked finger to the kitchen cabinet.
“Pour three… no fingers in a glass?”
“Fingers?”
“Give me those, girl!” Mamma took the bottle of Jack Daniels and the glass tumbler, and poured whiskey in the glass.
“What are you gonna do?” Isabel said nervously.
“Hush!”
Mamma took the glass and poured it down Bob’s mouth.
Bob’s immediately through out his arms, like he was directing phantom traffic, then he let out a choking noise, as if he was just pulled out of Davey Jones’ Locker.
“What... what the fuck?!” Bob said, gasping for breath. Isabel ran over to him, and threw his limp arm over her shoulder.
“Breath Bob! Breath!” She told him, as she rubbed his back with her hand in a circular motion.
“You don’t fuck around,” Karen said, looking at Mamma Basco.
“I’m old! I ain’t got time to fuck around girl! We gots work to do, we gots ta K-O dis spirit! I didn't fly out her from New Orleans to pussyfoot around!"

No comments:

Post a Comment