A Twist in the Mist, Chapter Seven

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Before turning in for the night TP looked in on Harold, whose bedroom was right across the hall from his own, at the back of the house. Harold's pajamas were a riot of parrots, zebras, giraffes and elephants - really, how could one sleep in such a jungle? Shubert, the teddy bear (who'd been put through the wash on delicate cycle and had only lost a tablespoon or so of stuffing), shared the bed with a small green octopus and a multi-colored snake Harold had brought with him. King Richard and the Duke stood on guard on the desk, and Archie guarded the floor. With such a fortress, Harold could rest in peace.

TP had had his herbal tea, a spagyric tincture of sedative herbs he'd made in the lab, and Brahms was playing softly on the CD player. Nothing left to do but fall asleep, the hardest thing he did all day, when it should have been the easiest. He took off his shoes, threw his shirt in the hamper and hung his pants firmly on the bathroom door hook. The last thing he remembered was maniacal laughter and those horrible red eyes boring into his head.

TP overslept again. What was making him so tired? Did he really want to know? He looked at the bathroom door and breathed in relief. His pants were where they should be, on the hook.

No need for a shower, he'd bathed last night after a day in the marsh. Voices and the smell of coffee wafted down the hall. Gladys was here again. How did he feel about this? On one hand it saved him from fixing Harold's breakfast, and it was nice having coffee waiting. But morning was a time for quiet introspection, going over yesterday, planning the day ahead, transitioning slowly from the silent world of sleep to full consciousness. And when you were tired and foggy-headed, the last thing you wanted to hear was Gladys' shrill voice. Well, once Harold left things would get back to normal.

As he left his bedroom, TP looked down and blinked in surprise. King Richard and the Duke stood on either side of the door, facing outward. Harold must have been playing with them early this morning, and TP, usually a very light sleeper, had been oblivious. Especially odd because he'd been leaving his bedroom door open in case Harold should need him in the night. He'd question Harold about it later.

His second surprise came when he entered the kitchen. Harold was in his usual seat at the table, Archie beside him, ever hopeful for a fallen morsel. Gladys was standing on a chair, her backside to him, vigorously scrubbing out one of the cupboards. Pots, pans and serving bowls were stacked on the counter, along with a bucket of sudsy water, cleaning rags and towels. Some sort of hand held vacuum device with teeth was plugged in beside the toaster, grinning at him ominously.

"What are you doing?" he said, none too gently.

Gladys shrieked and whirled around, losing her balance and tumbling off the chair. TP caught her and staggered as they both nearly fell to the floor, she clutching at him in her sopping rubber gloves.

"Goodness, you startled me, Thad! She took off the gloves and smoothed her hair, laughing breathlessly.

TP glanced at Harold, who was watching the show wide-eyed while eating breakfast.

"I'd like to talk to you a moment, if you don't mind." TP jerked his head towards the living room entryway, opposite the kitchen.

She followed him, her rubber-soled shoes squeaking loudly on the linoleum floor.

"Gladys, you don't need to be doing all this!" He looked around the room and saw she'd been busy in here as well. His papers, books and magazines were stacked neatly on the coffee table and things were rearranged on his desktop. Had she gone through the drawers as well? This had to stop. Now.

"Oh, Thad, your check was so generous I felt I owed you! It's no trouble at all, and I know having Harold here means extra work. You being a bachelor can certainly stand to have a woman's touch around the house now and then. Just think of me as your little guardian angel, making your day brighter!"

TP rubbed his head. "The thing is, Gladys, I really like quiet in the morning. I appreciate you fixing breakfast for Harold, but the cleaning is just not necessary." Or wanted.

"And there's one other matter. Mel said you're planning a party?"

"Yes! I thought a summer party would be a nice way to get the neighbors together, and a few friends and family. A supper party, with twinkling lights and music. Maybe some poetry readings."

"And, ah, where were you planning on having this party, Gladys?"

She cocked her head and put a polished fingernail to her chin as if deep in thought.

"It's got to be outside, of course, for the proper atmosphere. I thought about renting the pavilion at the park, but it's very expensive. Of course, there's my back yard but it's awfully small, and cluttered, what with my lawn furniture and flamingo yard ornaments. And Merle's boat. I never could bring myself to get rid of it. Do you know anyplace that might work, Thad?"

Her brown eyes gazed at him guilelessly. Oh, heaven help him. Everything in him resisted the idea of offering his own back yard. But he did need to at least go through the motions of socializing once in awhile. Plus there would be good food.

Hoping he wouldn't regret it, he said, "You could have it here."

"Oh, how thoughtful of you! Your backyard is a lot bigger. We could put a small pop up tent next to your flower garden, and string the hedge with lights. I could bring my gazing ball over, it would be just the right touch."

He could see she'd already planned the whole thing out.

"One of my nephews is taking saxophone lessons, and he has a little band with a drummer and a clarinet player, so the music is taken care of."

"Why don't you let me provide the music," TP heard himself say. Anything to avoid a screeching amateur jazz band. "I have a friend in the music department at the university. She plays cello. Such an elegant instrument, don't you think? Sophisticated, yet subtle. I'm sure I could arrange something with her."

She fell for it, thank God. "That sounds perfect, Thad. I guess cello is more...appropriate for dinner music. Romantic, too." She smiled dreamily.

"And about the cleaning issue, that's easy to fix. I'll just come in to tidy up a bit later in the day while you're out and about. I know where you keep your house key, so even if you're gone, I can get in."

He took a breath to respond, but she cut him off. 

"I won't take no for an answer, Thad! If you leave your laundry on the washing machine I'll be glad to run it through. I'll be back later with a special dinner. I'm so glad we have this little arrangement. I love testing new recipes, and it's no fun cooking for one."

TP watched her apron strings bounce as she retreated to the kitchen, humming to herself.

Why was he was so incompetent at defending his territory? Every time he tried to loosen her clutches, she tightened the noose. When he heard her leave, he wandered back into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Harold. What are we having for breakfast today?"

"Cloud Egg Croque Madam a la Gladys."

"That's quite a mouthful." He looked at his plate, resplendent with a fluffy concoction of meringue holding an egg yolk in the center which oozed down onto a toasted sandwich of some sort, all sprinkled with fresh chives.

For this, he could endure much.

The day passed pleasantly enough. TP did his laundry - no way would he let Gladys rifle through his clothes, looking in all the pockets, folding his underwear.

Afterward he and Harold took a drive to Brownie's Beach, a prime spot for finding fossils and shells. The beach was closed to the public, but TP had an in with a former teaching colleague who lived on the bluffs not far from the beach.

They collected shark's teeth and fossilized bone fragments, and Harold got a lesson on the Miocene era.

"Uncle TP, look at this. Is it a fossil?" Harold held a lumpy brown rock in his palm.

TP studied it. "I believe you've found a coprolite."

"What's a coprolite?"

"Petrified poop."

Harold wrinkled his nose. "That's what it looks like. It doesn't stink, though."

"No, it's all turned to stone."

"I like it. I'm going to look for more."  

Two more coprolites joined the first, then Harold collected bits of sea glass for his mother. Grandma Evie was to get a sharks' tooth and a coprolite.

Interesting choices, TP thought.

When they got home, a package was waiting for Harold by the front door. The postmark read Paris.

"It's from your mom," TP said.

Harold opened it excitedly. Inside was a red dump truck big enough for King Richard, the Duke and the small green octopus to ride in. Also included was a wooden puzzle of a Paris flower market and a set of oil pastels with special paper to use them on. Harold put the puzzle and art supplies on his desk, then he and Archie went outside to try out the new dump truck.

TP was very tired. He needed a nap, but settled for a cup of coffee and the newspaper. The front page held the usual uplifting stories - extreme weather, war, political bickering. He scanned through the articles and turned the page.

Dr. Demento of Cheswolde Strikes Again

Yesterday the Baltimore Sun reported that three citizens of Cheswolde were accosted Wednesday night by a frightening man now dubbed Dr. Demento who seemed to have hypnotic powers. Last night another victim had a similar experience. Marsha Trueblood was walking home from a neighbor's house around 11:30 pm when she felt an odd tingling in her shoulder. Turning around, she came face to face with "a hulking beast of a man with glowing eyes, so frightening I screamed and passed out". When she regained consciousness, the man was gone and so was her $1500 watch. "I believe he drugged me," said Ms. Trueblood. "I have a red spot on my shoulder, like a needle mark, and I haven't felt right since". Blood drawn from Ms. Trueblood revealed traces of a rare experimental psychiatric drug called Gogetamine being trialed on a small number of patients at Johns Hopkins hospital. Oddly, blood samples from two of the other three victims also contained traces of Gogetamine, but the third did not. Law officials suspect the assaulter is a doctor or health professional working at Johns Hopkins. The only place this drug could be obtained is at the hospital. Close watch is being kept on the patients receiving Gogetamine, and all doses are accounted for. Residents of Cheswolde are being cautioned not to be outside on foot after dark.