Hags Episode 16

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Denise smacked Micah on the arm and then folded her arms across her chest. She stared at Lawson.

The police officer took a step back. “I’ll repeat the question. Would you mind telling me where you were yesterday afternoon between three and six?”

“I was here.” Micah took another bite of muffin.

“Can you prove it?”

“Can you prove I wasn’t? By the way, these are tasty. Sure you don’t want one.” Micah picked up the basket of muffins.

Denise unfolded her arms and grabbed the basket. She placed it on the counter behind her. “I saw him here working yesterday afternoon.”

Micah glanced at Denise. “You did?”

“Yeah. I peeked in through your window as you worked sans shirt. You’re fun to stare at. I also noticed your car never left the driveway.” She turned to the detective, batting her eyes. “I did gawp at him. I was a regular Peeping Tom or Tammy. Will you arrest me?”

Detective Lawson shook his head. “Not at the moment. I didn’t come to accuse anyone of anything. I want to eliminate a few names.”

“You mean suspects, don’t you?” Micah asked.

The detective put his coffee down. “If you prefer, but it’s a bit early to call anyone a suspect. The pervert killed her yesterday afternoon.”

“And she’s not the one I found the other day?” Micah asked.

“No, this is a different case.”

“May I inquire as to what happened?” Denise asked.

“You’ll read about it in the paper or hear about it on the news.” Lawson put his pen back inside his shirt pocket.

Denise frowned. “But, detective, you’re here now. You can’t tease us with a juicy murder mystery and then leave. What happened? Who was killed?”

“Thanks for your time. Both of you.” The detective smiled before making his way out of the house.

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Hags Episode 15

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Micah stared at the officer. “I remember you.”

“You do? I wore a uniform then.”

“I remember every cop on the Naperville police force.”

“Most of the guys you knew retired. May I come in?”

“What’s this about?”

“I need to ask some questions.”

“Do you have a warrant?”

“We could do this back at the station, Mr. Probert. I can get a warrant, but for now I prefer a friendly chat to see if you can clear up a few things for us. Afterwards, I won’t have to bother you again.”

“Is this about the body I found?” Micah’s eyes followed a blur of red movement in the sky. “Can you see that?”

Detective Lawson turned around. “See what?”

“Nevermind. He’s gone now.”

Lawson gestured, palms up. “Who’s gone?”

“If you didn’t see it, you won’t believe it. Trust me, he left the area.”

Lawson rubbed his chin. “If you see things I don’t see, one of us has a problem.”

“You would have seen it if you looked that way. He’s out of sight now.”

“Who are we talking about?” Lawson stepped closer to Micah.

“Not sure. Some guy flying across the sky.”

“In a small airplane?”

“Something like that. A big kite or glider. Or he sprouted wings and flew. You never answered my question.”

“It’s not about the body you found.”

“Then come in.” Micah turned back into the house leaving the officer outside. Lawson opened the storm door and followed Micah into the kitchen.

“Planning to move, Mr Probert?”

“I registered as an offender so I’m sure you know I’m still moving in.”

Denise Appleby furrowed her eyebrows as she stared at Micah.

“I didn’t realize you had company, Mr. Probert. Can she come back later?” Lawson reached into his blue suit jacket and snagged a small paper tablet.

“I want her to stay if you don’t mind, detective.”

“As you wish.” Lawson removed a cheap ballpoint from his shirt pocket. It was the kind of writing instrument sweaty sales people give away at tradeshows.

“What about what I wish?” Denise poured more coffee into her cup, fixed her eyes on the police detective and smiled. She placed her cup down on the counter and climbed up on the chair in front of the refrigerator. Micah admired her lower appendages below her short skirt as she pulled down a cup and jumped to the floor.

“Milk and sugar, detective?” Micah picked up the spoon and gave it a quick wipe with a towel.

“Black is fine. Mr. Probert, I’ll come to the point. Can you account for your whereabouts yesterday afternoon?”

“I unpacked some stuff and did some paint-up, fix-up work.”

“Were you here say between three and six? By the way, those muffins appear enticing.”

Denise jumped in front of the muffins. “You may not have any.”

The detective pulled his arm back. “I didn’t ask for one. I said they appeared tasty.”

Denise checked out the detective with a nervous grin.

“She made them for me, detective. I would offer you one, but you might turn into a frog, and we wouldn’t want that to happen.” Micah smiled.

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Hags Episode 14

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Micah sniffed the steam rising from a stack of muffins. An oversized muffin, oozing blueberries, sat on top of the heap.

Micah reached into the basket.

Denise smacked his hand. “First, a gentleman offers a lady coffee when she visits.” She placed her hand on Micah’s Delonghi coffeemaker. “This is nice. Does it make good coffee?”

Micah rubbed the back of his sore hand. “It will when I remember which box has the Jamaican Blue Mountain. Right now it’s pouring the best decaf this side of Bob’s Coffee Emporium. Let me find you a cup.” Micah opened a cabinet door to discover it held plates and saucers, but no cups. He opened another cabinet, but it held a few plastic storage containers.

Denise turned to the cabinet behind her, the one above the refrigerator. She pulled a chair over, stood on it and opened the cabinet door. She grabbed a mug, turned around and jumped to the floor as her miniskirt billowed in the breeze. “I wouldn’t keep the coffee mugs in that one. It’s too hard to reach. I like your mugs by the way.”

“I must have put them away before heading to the coffee shop for the real thing. A guy in Phoenix makes the mugs by hand so I bought a bunch. Would you like cream and sugar?”

“You have real cream?”

“Of course.” Micah pulled a container from the refrigerator.

“And a touch of sugar.”

“Do you mind sharing my spoon? I’d hate to have to figure out where the rest of them are until I finish unpacking.”

“If I have no other choice.” Denise stared at the spoon for a few seconds. “Is this real silver?”

“Guess so. I inherited it.”

Denise shrugged her shoulders and picked the extra large muffin out of her basket. “I made this one especially for you.”

“Thanks. Aren’t the rest of them for me, too?”

“Of course, but that one has an extra portion of my special blueberries with an added dollop of goodness. By the way, you didn’t tell me why you put cream and sugar in your coffee if you prefer it black.”

Micah took the muffin and held it in his hand. “Still warm from the oven. My father drank his coffee with cream and sugar so I honor him with one cup his way. It keeps me going during the rough times. I can feel his presence when I do it, and it makes me smile.”

“Not everyone loves their father.”

“I did. He’s gone now.” Micah lifted the muffin to his mouth.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You must miss him terribly.”

Micah pulled the muffin away from his mouth. “I do. He stood by me when no one else would.” Micah took a bite. “Hmmm, you’re right. This muffin is special.”

“Not even your mother?”

“She died a long time ago. It was me and Dad growing up.” Micah turned at the sound of loud knocking on his front door. He set the rest of the muffin on the counter by his cup of coffee.

Denise stirred her coffee. “You better answer it.”

When Micah passed the staircase, he caught a glimpse of the pioneer woman climbing the steps.

At the front door, a man in a grey business suit held up a badge. “Detective Lawson, Naperville police.”

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Hags Episode 13

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Chapter Six
Despite the stream of light from the window and the brightness of two lamps, Micah could see the aerie specter of the pioneer woman. She sat in a phantom rocking chair in the corner of the room where she knitted.  He chose to ignore her as he prepared to peel the wallpaper from the front bedroom walls of his Naperville fixer-upper.

Micah couldn’t tell if the wallpaper was fifty years old or a hundred. Judging from the ghost’s costume, he guessed more like one hundred fifty. That would make it one of the oldest homes in Naperville. The wallpaper may have been light and cheerful at one time, but now a dull gray-brown depressed the atmosphere of the room.

In a corner at the front of the house, he pulled a wet scrub brush out of a dark brown plastic bucket and applied water to the paper. Once he had a large section soaked, he pulled a wide scraper out of the back pocket of his ragged blue jeans. He rubbed it along the wet paper to peel it away from the wall. The wet globs of paper fell to the painter’s plastic sheet on the floor. Micah worked his way across the front wall until he removed the wallpaper.

He descended to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Unlike Bob’s Coffee Emporium, where he drank a strong, black brew, he poured decaf. He stirred in milk and two teaspoons of sugar before raising the cup to his lips.

“You like milk and sugar in your coffee?” The female voice startled Micah. Had the pioneer woman decided to speak? He surveyed the room but didn’t see the phantom. He set the cup down on the counter and grabbed a towel to wipe splashed coffee from his shirt.

“I prefer it black.” Micah placed the dishtowel on the kitchen table and opened the screen door. “Why are you in my backyard?”

Denise Appleby carried a small wicker basket into the room. A faded flower-print cloth covered the contents of the basket. She wore a flower pattern pink dress with lots of yellow blossoms and thin, long green leaves. The dress, though new, appeared similar to the cloth covering the basket. A strip of fabric matching her dress held her raven hair in a ponytail. “What? Are you afraid I’m trespassing? The fact is, you refused to answer the front door.”

“Hmmm, something smells fresh. How’d you get into my yard? There’s no gate.”

“I climbed. I’m a suffragette; I’m not helpless.” She placed the wicker basket on a counter.

“Suffragette?”

“My mom used to say it a lot, and I picked it up. It’s an old-fashioned way of saying ‘liberated.’”

“I didn’t hear you ring the bell. Say, are those blueberries I smell?”

“I don’t think your bell works.”

“I’ll check into it, but first, may I liberate one of your whatevers you have in your basket?”

“Certainly.” Denise pulled the faded cloth off the basket.

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Hags Episode 12

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Bob rose from his chair and faced the counter. He paced a short distance and checked over his shoulder. “You know where to find me if you need me.” Bob made his way up to Peevy. They talked.

Micah took a sip from his coffee while focusing on Peevy. In this light and distance it didn’t take much for him to picture the last time she smiled at him.

He remembered a summer day on the Prairie Path, an abandoned series of old railroad right of ways converted to hiking paths that wander through Chicago’s suburbs. Peevy in blue shorts and a white sleeveless top. And about two hundred fewer pounds. A kiss. Not one of those passionate, let’s make like bunnies in the bushes kind of kisses. Instead, they pressed each other’s lips together in a gentle promise of commitment.

A tear flowed down Micah’s right cheek. Peevy stared at him from behind the counter and her expression softened for a split second before it hardened again. Then her face lit up as she turned to the front door of the coffee shop.

“Ahlman!” she called. Several customers stood up when the man with gossamer wings hidden under his Ivy League blue dress shirt entered. They began to applaud.

“Way to go, Ahlman,” a man shouted from a table on the other side of the room.

Ahlman strutted up to the counter through a group of about one half dozen admirers who wanted to shake his hand. He smiled and shook hands like a politician.

“It’s on the house. I’m overlooking that you’re a man,” Peevy said.

“Thank you, dear lady.” Ahlman took the coffee and headed towards Micah’s table. He passed it and sat at the next table in the row and eyeballed Micah as he sat down. He placed his coffee and a copy of Twain’s Letters From the Earth on the table.

Micah nodded in Ahlman’s direction. “You must have done something right.”

Ahlman’s eyes twinkled. “Raised money for one of the local high schools, old boy. I have some friends who are generous.”

“Friends in high places?”

Ahlman laughed and shook his head from side-to-side. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Been here both days.”

Ahlman moved to Micah’s table. “How do you like our town so far?”

“I’ve always liked Naperville. Certain Napervillians are the problem.” Micah took another bite of his scone and washed it down with coffee.

“So this is not your first visit?”

“Long story. Let’s not go there.”

“Any interesting adventures since you came to town?”

“It’s only been two days.”

“So…”

Micah glared at Ahlman. “Yesterday morning a giant faerie that looked like you flew past my window on gossamer wings and landed in the alley in back of my house. Oh, and I found a body in the dumpster.”

“Tell you what, Micah, I’ll be careful of my flight patterns, and you be careful of your imagination.”

“So it was you?”

Ahlman roared with laughter. “You found a faerie? Naperville is such a straight-laced suburban community that I’m surprised you would find one around here. Then again I suppose you can find gays everywhere. My, this is noble coffee. They don’t roast it like this where I come from.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Peevy. You set the land speed record for making her angry when you came in yesterday morning. I asked her who you were.”

“And she told you?”

“She said you were the reason she hates all men.”

“About says it all.” Micah took a sip of coffee.

“Doesn’t say why she hates you, old boy.”

“No. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”

“She may not have wanted to make me blush. I have a certain reputation to maintain. Did you say you found a body? I don’t believe Naperville has many murders.”

Micah held up his forefinger. “It has one now.”

“We’ve had our share of rape and child molestation, but I don’t think we’ve had many murders.” Ahlman took a sip of his coffee.

“Peevy told you?”

“Told me what, Micah?”

“I’m leaving now.” Micah stood up.

“By the way, nice outfit, Micah. Nieman-Marcus?”

Micah stormed out into the bright light of the street.

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Hags Episode 11

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Bob’s eyes became intense as he faced Micah again. “What did you do?”

“I told you.”

“What about Janice?”

“She’s a liar.”

“And you always tell the truth?”

Micah placed an elbow on the table and rubbed his jaw with his hand. He let his hand slide up to his mouth. The hand slid over to allow Micah to rest his cheek on it. “I spent fifteen years in prison because someone else didn’t tell the truth.”

“You believe that, don’t you?”

Micah dropped his hand from his cheek and locked eyes with Bob. “Why shouldn’t I? It’s the truth.”

“Sometimes when someone does something horrible, they block it out in their mind.”

“I told you the truth. You can believe me or not. Your choice.”

Bob gazed towards the front door. No one entered. He turned to Micah. “Sounds to me like the choices were made a long time ago. Perhaps it’s time to put the past behind you and move on with life.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“You came home to put the past behind you?”

“I came to Naperville to … I don’t know … it’s more like I’m trying to get a handle on life. Do you ever wonder why you’re alive?”

“No. I know why I’m alive.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Micah sipped more coffee. He placed the cup on the table and gazed into Bob’s eyes. “Where you are is where I want to go because right now my life sucks. It has sucked for twenty years, and I’m ready to get off this screwed up merry-go-round.”

“I can help.”

“How?”

“For starters, I could be a friend.” Bob reached across the table, his arm not long enough to reach Micah.

“You’d have to believe me before I could trust you.”

Bob straightened up and turned his hands palm up. “I believe that you believe you didn’t commit the crime for which you went to prison.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“Okay, it may not be, but it’s a beginning. The rest will follow.” Bob placed his hands on the table and stared at Micah.

“Bob, I appreciate your honesty. I do. But I don’t need friends.”

“What are you looking for?”

“When I figure that out, I’ll tell you.”

“So you need some sort of purpose?” Bob leaned back and stroked his chin.

“For starters.”

“So what are you doing in Naperville besides drinking coffee?”

A sudden rush of heat rose in Micah’s face. His voice became animated. “Eating scones.” Micah took a bite from his cranberry pastry. “And fixing up a house. It’s an experiment. I want to see if I can buy cheap, fix up and sell high. I like working with my hands.”

“Sounds like a purpose to me. A bit mercenary, but a purpose.”

“It’s more like what I’m doing until I figure out what I’m doing.”

“We should talk more about this. Your life has a purpose.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

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Hags Episode 10

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Chapter Five

Micah pulled a thick wad of bills from his blue jeans pocket. “Coffee, black, big, intense.”

“Screw off.” Peevy’s voice did not sound as angry as yesterday, but her lips had that same upturned, puckered and livid sweep to them. Her eyes glared against her pale face.

From down the counter, Bob said, “Peevy, you can’t even swear right. What are you doing, opening a jar?”

Peevy threw an empty paper coffee cup at Bob. “Screw off.”

“Coffee, black, big, intense.” Micah stared at the faded wood floor to hide a smile. It became a game. He raised his eyes from the mahogany kick plate up to the glass face. Micah studied the bakery items on display.

“Screw off.”

“Cranberry scone.”

“Screw off.”

He peeled a fifty from his stack of bills and placed it on the counter. He raised his head. Peevy’s disheveled blond hair draped her puffy face. She no longer possessed the figure he remembered from twenty years ago when they were both nineteen.  Frowning did not make her attractive.

Peevy opened the register and placed the fifty inside. She removed coins and paper currency. After a cold stare, she threw the money on the glass counter top. “Screw off.”

“You’re welcome, and I don’t mind if you use the F-word.”

“Screw off. I hope you never F-word anyone again in your sorry, lousy life.” Peevy stomped into the backroom.

Micah pocketed the paper bills and three pennies remaining on the counter top. He ignored the three quarters, dime and nickel scattered across the floor but picked up the coffee and scone that Peevy slammed on the counter.

He parked at a table by the window and stared at the steam as it rose from the tiny hole in the plastic lid of his coffee cup. The rich aroma of coffee filled his nostrils as the vapor formed a petite, cold female hand and arm. As the mist rose higher, it dispersed into the shape of gossamer dragonfly wings.

“May I join you?” asked Bob.

Micah jumped. An embarrassed smirk crossed his lips as Bob sat opposite him with his tiny feet dangling in the air above the floor and his face stretching above the tabletop, kid style.

Peevy returned to the front and slapped the counter top with a towel. “If you were half a man, you’d buy a rope.”

Bob twisted around to face Peevy. “Hey, I am half a man.” He spun back to Micah. “What’s the rope for?”

“To hang me.”

 “What did you do to her?” Bob’s eyes became large.

“Didn’t do anything.”

“Must have done something for Peevy to hate you twenty years later. I know Peevy. She gets pissed and then she gets over it.”

“She believes I did a horrible thing.” Micah wiped his hand across his mouth. He looked up at Bob and took a sip of coffee. The bitter taste danced on his tongue.

“But you didn’t?”

Micah locked eyes with Bob. “No.”

Bob spun around again. “He didn’t do it, Peevy.”

Peevy stopped polishing the coffee machine. She didn’t bother to turnaround. “Ask him how many years he got in prison for doing nothing to my little sister.”

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