126. FEARLESS

I stumbled off the elevator and pushed the walker to the apartment door. Still shaking, I fumbled with the door knob before I could open it. I entered the apartment, shut the door, and locked it.

What’s wrong? Annabelle asked me. You never lock the door in the morning.

Just a minute, I wheezed. I just want to be sure I’m not followed.

Followed? she asked me. You just took the laundry to the basement. Who’s after you?

There’s a ghost down there I have never seen before.

Ghosts? Thatch yelled from the windowsill where he and Stella were visiting the pigeons. Two of them have begun a family on the fire escape, and we have a nest of chicks chipping away every morning.

A new ghost? Annabelle asked as Thatch and Stella jumped off the windowsill and gathered around my feet as I sat at the computer.

Hold on, Missy, let me calm down. I took a sip from my coffee, which was still warm, thank God. I wish I had some Irish Cream to put into this, I told them.

Tell us! Thatch jumped up and down. Those basement ghosts are scary.

This ghost is really frightening . . . and she’s mean. She didn’t want me near the washers. When I started putting things into the washer, she would throw them out when my back was turned. I finally got everything into the washers, started them up, and ran for my life. This ghost smells bad and looks like a corpse that’s been dug up. And she screams. I was afraid she followed me up here.

I’m scared, Thatch told us just before he wet himself and began to cry.

Aw, Thatch, you poor baby, I said as I rose from the table. Let me get some paper towels and the Fantastick.

Oh, gross, Annabelle muttered.

I heard that, Missy, I yelled from the kitchen. Be nice to the baby. You now he scares easily.

I brought a pile of paper towels, got on hands and knees, and wiped up the pee. Then I sprayed Fantastick on the spot and wiped it up with a clean towel.

You’ve got to go back to the basement, you know, Annabelle said as I worked. What are you going to do about this ghost?

I hope she’s gone when I go back down.

Well, Stella and I will come with you. We’ll protect you. The baby can stay here.

Don’t be mean to Thatch.

I’m not. I’m just stating facts. I will retire to my summer home for a brief nap. Call me when you’re ready to confront this . . . this thing.

She strolled back to her bounty towel carton in the storage area, leaped up onto the top of it, and then dropped out of sight.

Well, I gotta hand it to her, I told Stella and Thatch, her ability to leap up three feet is really impressive. I can barely lift a foot more than three inches.

That’s because I am young and healthy, and a star! Annabelle called from inside the carton.

Wish I had some pot along with the Irish Cream. I’d have to be stoned to confront this ghost again, I thought as I brought up whatever emails were waiting for my attention.

When I finished with that, I checked the clock. I’d been back in the apartment for forty minutes. It was time to put the laundry into the dryers. Still rattled, I stood up and called, Annabelle!

Yes? a voice answered from the Bounty carton.

It’s time to go back to the basement.

I’m coming, she called. A second later she leaped up onto the edge of the carton and wandered into the living area. Stella and Thatch waited with me.

Are you sure you and Stella want to come along?

Yes. Let’s go.

Okay, I replied as I used my cane to rise from the chair. I think you should stay here, Thatch. This thing is too scary. I cautiously moved toward the door as Stella and Annabelle ran ahead of me. I set the cane aside and moved the walker to the door.

Wait! Thatch called. I’m coming, too! He jumped up to the dresser.

I don’t think you should, Thatcher Cather Snatcher Patcher.

I don’t want to be here alone if the ghost comes up here.

Ah, I see . . . Okay, hop on my shoulder. I leaned into the dresser and Thatch jumped onto my shoulder. Hang on tight, baby, I told him. Everybody ready to face this ghost?

I unlocked the door and opened it cautiously. The hall was empty. Okay, babies, I told them. Annabelle and Stella bolted into the hall and ran down to the elevator. I pushed the walker into the hall and followed them. As we entered the elevator, I said, I’m warning you, babies, this ghost is really really really scary. Thatch, why don’t you ride in my walker’s tote bag? I don’t want you falling off my shoulder if this thing gets rough.

Thatch jumped into the large blue canvas bag hanging from the walker’s handlebars just before the elevator settled, and the door opened. The basement was quiet.

Maybe she’s gone? Annabelle asked as she peeked out the door of the elevator.

I hope, I said as I pushed the walker into the corridor leading to the laundry room. Now, stay behind me.

I moved slowly but noisily down the corridor, thanks to the walker’s feet scraping the floor, and arrived at the door to the laundry room. The washers had finished their cycle, and the room was empty.

She’s not here, Annabelle told us. Let’s get the laundry into the dryers and head back upstairs.

I moved the walker to a laundry cart and abandoned the walker and Thatch as I rolled the cart back to the first washer. I opened the door and moved the damp laundry to the cart. As I opened the door to the second washer, I heard a loud scream from the corridor.

Oh, no! Annabelle said. She’s coming back.

The most horrible apparition I’ve ever encountered appeared in the doorway. She wore a rotting dress or shroud from either the late 19th center or early 20th – who has time to be a fashion expert when you’re looking at something so hideous? – as she strode or glided into the laundry room. Her long black hair streamed down her shoulders and back, and her eyes glared like fires of hell. What was left of her face was frozen into an eternal grimace of pain.

Thatch screamed in terror while Annabelle’s hair stood up, her tail flared out, and she crouched low to the ground. I hadn’t seen her so terrified since the elevator crew was working here in 2018. She backed away as the specter floated toward us, turned, leaped onto my shorts and scrambled up my T-shirt to my shoulder.

The apparition smelled to high heaven. I have never smelled a decaying corpse, but I would swear this thing was exactly what one smells like. She floated past me, ignoring the laundry she had toyed with earlier, and approached the walker. As Thatch screamed in terror, she grabbed his tail and lifted him. Just before she could pull the baby from the bag he clutched desperately, Stella hissed and leaped at her. As Stella leaped through the specter, she dropped Thatch back into the bag and retreated. Stella matched her screams with loud hisses. As the ghost moved back toward the door, Stella ran after her.

No one’s hurting Thatch on my watch! Annabelle screamed.

She jumped from my shoulder to the top of the washer and then to the floor. She ran to Stella. In the doorway, he ghost turned back to face us, screaming in rage. Stella leaped again, followed by Annabelle, and the apparition dissolved. There was no explosion like shattering glass; she wavered in and out of focus, and suddenly the air no longer smelled, and the room was deathly quiet.

Annabelle! Stella! I called where are you?

In the corridor, Annabelle called. Stella never speaks English, only Cat. I  think she’s gone. For good, I hope.

Two smug kitties strolled back into hte laundry room. I turned to the walker. Thatch? Thatch? Are you okay?

I reached the walker and looked into the bag. Thatch lay unconscious in the puddle he’d created. I lifted him out and carried him to the sink the washers drain into and washed him in warm water. He came to and fought to get out of my grip.

Are you dead, Thatch? Annabelle asked.

No, but I’m wet! Stop it. Stop!

I carried him over to the laundry cart, pulled a damp towel and did my best to dry him with it.  I’m sorry, baby, I told him. Your sisters are heroes. They scared the ghost before it could hurt you.

They did?

Yep. They are fearless little girls. I’m very proud of them.

Now your clean towel is all dirty from Thatch, Annabelle said.

That’s okay, I told them. I’ll wash it again. With the tote bag.

Oh, Thatch! You didn’t! Annabelle said.

Yes, Annabelle, I did. I’m sorry, Daddy.

We can’t take you anywhere, she stated.

Don’t pick on Thatch. Just be happy he’s not hurt.

I took the bag off the walker and put it into the washer with the towel. I added detergent as three cats watched me work. Once the washer was running, I removed the laundry from the second one and added it to the laundry cart. I wheeled it to the dryers and unloaded it. As the dryers started up, I pushed the cart back to my walker. I looked up. I was alone.

Annabelle! Thatch! I called. Stella? Annabelle? Where are you? I pushed the walker out into the corridor. Where had they gone to?

I wandered to the elevator, and pressed the down button. I heard two giggling kitties approaching from the labyrinth of corridors in the basement. Get back here! I yelled. I’m going upstairs.

Out of the darkness three cats, one wet and bedraggled and two looking very full of themselves, ran up to me.

Where did you go? I asked. Your timing is perfect. Here’s the elevator.

The door opened and I pushed the walker onto it. The cats ran in and settled as we rode up.

You all look very happy, I said. Well, Thatch, you actually look all wet. I’ll get the hair dryer and spruce you right up.

I like that! he said.

Our Stella is fearless! Annabelle enthused.

I wasn’t surprised. Stella had never shown signs of fear. When she was a small kitten, whenever I opened the door to the apartment, she bolted for the hall, never checking to see if any danger lay in wait.

Yes, she is, I replied, and you certainly jumped into action after your shock wore off. I’m proud of both of you!

I couldn’t let that . . . that thing hurt my Thatch! Are you sure you’re okay, Thaaatch? Are you, Thaaaaaaaath?

I laughed. And here I thought laundry day would be boring.

The elevator opened and I pushed the walker out into the third floor hallway. Annabelle, Thartch, and Stella ran ahead of me to the door of the apartment.

Well, you know, Annabelle said, by the time you finish all the laundry today and feed us it will be time to be really truly terrified.

What’s that? I asked as I opened the door.

Judge Judy’s on, Annabelle answered. She’s really scary.

©2022, Larry Moore