There's this particular level of Buddhist-like comfort you achieve when you've fallen asleep.
The temperature is just right, and the material of the blanket or sheet does not disagree with the texture of your skin. You're in your own maternal embryonic cocoon, and the world couldn't be more perfect than the way it is at this precise moment. It is, of course, during an exact moment like this that the dogs in your yard decide it's time to bark at the top of their K-9 lungs at nothing. It's also when your adult children or grandchildren decide to knock on your door for whatever the matter may be. After that, you can't get that comfort back. It went up in a puff of smoke, it burst like a bubble, or an hour-old party balloon. It will take a while before you can get that kind of comfort back.The call must have come earlier that morning because the red light on my phone kept pulsating along with the sound of a theremin, from one of those Martian cartoons from Bugs Bunny. I played back the voice message. It came from someone named Tuesday Marshand.
"Yes, good morning. Your services have been highly recommended to me by a friend who attended one of your lectures. I'm Tuesday, and my address will be sent to you in a text. I was interested in purchasing a home in Portlock, but the realtor informed me that the home might be haunted. If you wouldn't mind coming to bless it, I would most appreciate it."
Sigh. Another rent-a-blessing call. I sent Tuesday a text after receiving hers regarding the address she said she would send. I recommended a clergy friend of mine, whom I strongly felt was better suited for what Tuesday requested. I was not expecting a response after that, as I knew my clergy friend William was very thorough and effective with his blessings. Besides, a priest performing a house blessing is a better public image than someone like me, who is perceived as too Hawaiian, if there's even such a thing. Before the day was up, I got a FaceTime call on my phone. It was William.
"So, if you can see it," he said while panning his phone for me to see. "This is the physical address, but there's no house here. However, I'm going to send you my body cam video from today. You FaceTime me back after you see it."
Yes, William wore a body cam while doing blessings. Even while in service to God, one has to consider liability from those being serviced in his name. He hung up, and my phone pinged a few seconds later. His body cam showed a woman standing a few feet away from him. I could only assume it was Tuesday Marshand. She was dressed in a teal polyester long-sleeved top with a matching scarf around her neck. She wore a pair of colored slacks, flats on her feet, and oversized sunglasses to cover her eyes, which she didn't bother to remove once she and William entered the home. Nothing strange happened, William did the prayers and the holy water, and it was over. After the two exited the house, Tuesday handed William a thick envelope. "A donation, father, to the church or yourself, it makes no difference to me."
From the perspective of the body cam, William watched as Tuesday climbed into her Mercedes and drove off down the street. William turned to walk back to his car. He stops suddenly and turns around, facing the direction of the house. Except it wasn't there, it was gone. In its place was an empty lot with overgrown Haole koa and tall weeds gently moving to and fro in the wind, but no house.
"I'm on the way," I texted him.
It was the last house on the last street facing the point. William saw me coming and got out of his car. There we were, standing in the middle of the street, looking at an empty lot from a safe distance. "I called Tuesday's number. It says it isn't valid." William shook his head.
"I did the same thing on the way here," I replied. "Same response."
" I can't make any sense of it. I was in the house, and she was right in front of me. She gave me an envelope of money." William removed the thick envelope from his pocket, and the second it hit sunlight, the whole thing crumbled to dust. The tension and fear was broken by the sound of a speeding vehicle coming our way. I jumped toward William, tackling him out of the way, barely saving both of our lives. It was a black on black 68 Ford Fairlane idling and waiting for its next move, or rather waiting on us. It drove toward the two of us again, but this time without being a threat. It pulled into the empty lot, and the house I saw on William's body cam reappeared. Stepping out of the car was Tuesday Marshand, dressed the same way she was in the video. In her hand was a gun, possibly a .38 special. Immediately after entering the phantom home, shots rang out, which made William and me jump. Rather than stick around for whatever the aftermath might have been, we got in our cars and left. We agreed to meet later, at the Zippys on Vineyard. Sure, the service was slow, but the slow service gave William and me time to decompress and try to understand what just happened.
"Definitely a time loop," he said while drinking his water.
"Considering what Portlock was, I believe it," I told him. "We've been friends long before you joined the diocese and became ordained. Even then, it was like visiting you in prison from time to time."
"Look at you, mister Kahuna," he quipped back. "Had to grow your hair and beard out, couldn't cut your nails, had to fast, and couldn't oof."
"Why do you have to fucking bring that up all the time, huh? Was it my fault you could only swear chastity to everything except your hand, you fucking five-fingered pervert!" I whispered while leaning forward.
"You used your sister's underwear cause you were too poor to afford socks!" He shot back.
"That was YOUR sister's underwear!" I laughed.
Just then, the waitress showed up and took our order. Fried chicken and chilli for me, and Surf pack for William, without the fish, but more spam to substitute. "You're alright though? How are you feeling after that?"
"This one is beyond my pay grade." He removed his wallet and took out a business card. Sliding it across the table to me, he said, "This is my Mom's number. If anything happens to me, call her directly."
I took the card and put it in my wallet. "Why would anything happen to you? 'Sides, your Mom has always hated me, because she thought I was a bad influence with my Hawaiian mumbo jumbo."
Our food came, and we immediately indulged. "Look at what just the fuck happened, she's right."
"Hey, fuck you," I replied. "You could have said no, you could have hung up the phone."
"You gonna eat your mac salad?" He pointed his fork at my plate.
"No, take it," I pushed my plate to his. "They always give me too much."
The waitress came and gave us a refill of our water and Pepsi. "We should go pī kai after this," I said. It was a suggestion so William wouldn't think I was influencing him.
"Good idea," he agreed.
***
I asked for a to-go cup for my Pepsi, and I paid the bill. I walked to my car, got in, and waited for William to pull ahead of me. We agreed on Kaimana Beach for the pīkai. Having the right of way for the right turn on North Vineyard, he took it and only made a half-turn. His car drifted across the street and came to a stop when it hit the fence that separated the two streets heading in opposite directions. I parked over to the right so as not to block the exit. When I got to Williams' car, it was empty. He was gone.
.....to be continued
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