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23 April 2008
54. Kidman’s Gift – Part One
“Darling, I’m home!” I called.
Okay, that was a lie. No way I said that when I got back from the library that evening, my head still spinning with thoughts of a new way forward in my investigations. I’m pretty sure that what I actually said was: “I’m back! Where the hell are you? I’ve got some serious shit to lay on you!”
“Is that you?” called Kidman. “My best pal? My only true friend? The one I can’t do without? The one who knows me better than anyone? The one who will stand by me forever? My very own untitled darling? Can it really be you?”
Okay, that too was a lie. No freakin’ way Kidman greeted me like that! Not in this lifetime! I think what she actually said was: “Stephanie Small-Tits? Is that you? Untitled Titties? Are you home? Let me just put my glasses on. Ah, yes, it’s you, Small-Tits, it’s you! Oh yes, I recognise your puny puppies now!”
I was dismissive. “I’ve got stuff to tell you! They have a medium in town! I saw it on the notice-board of the library! Someone who can communicate with the dead! If we were to –”
“Do you want your present now?”
“Present? Oh, yes, my present. Of course. I didn’t like to ask …”
That’s another lie, right there! I’d forgotten, to be honest. My head had been so filled with thoughts of using a medium to communicate with the dead presence in Mordan House that I’d forgotten all about the fact that Kidman had said that she was going to give me a gift of some kind when I got back.
“Didn’t like to ask? What does that mean? Always ask! ‘Where’s my freakin’ pressie?’ that’s what you say! Is that too tricky for you? Need a training course?”
“That’s grand advice, Kidman. Thank you.” I was doing dismissive exceptionally well. You know, I very nearly didn’t type that last line, I was going to throw it away almost as soon as I’d become aware of it in my head! You may, in fact, have heard the initial pre-throwing-out scrunch!
“It’s upstairs! I’ve got everything ready!”
“Upstairs? Uh, where’s the visible ‘Am I Looking Stupid Today?’ tattoo? Upstairs is where most of the haunting stuff goes on! And you want me to amble up there when the sun’s starting to set? Oh, yeah! Let’s see how fast I can amble! Kidman? Thickman, if you ask me! You got poor grades, sweetheart, so go flunk yourself!”
That’s right, reader, lie from beginning to end! Here’s what I really said: “Oh, okay.” Yep. Both barrels. That’s what I gave her.
She took me upstairs to a room that Kidman said had the best lighting. Inside, there was a chair surrounded by a small table covered in make-up, an ironed and ready-to-wear dress plus accessories, and another table with those implements of the trade that women use regularly to preen and prune.
“We’re going to get you glammed-up! We’re going to aim for somewhere in around the hot, foxy, tasty, scrumptious, ‘lady cupboard’ me now, knock-out gorgeous end of the scale of feminine appearance! Somewhere just shy of ‘hooker’ but nowhere near Lyndsay Lohan look-a-like! Then we’re going into town – in fact, going out on the town, I should say – to get your man! Or a different man! The days of women being picky are long gone! There’s a storm, we’re a ship, and, hell, there’s a freakin’ port! And you, Step Fey, are the coxswain!”
There was no persuading her to drop this plan. I could tell from the full embellishment of her ENP! I said nothing and found myself being marshalled into a chair, then my body being pulled about and scraped and seasoned and varnished and various things applied to me in a variety of places.
“Like the way things are shaping up, do you? Like my little pressie to you?” she said as she finally worked on my make-up. I grunted in the affirmative. That was all. Merely grunted.
But here’s what I was really thinking: “No, no, no! Don’t do this to me! I can’t possibly do this! No, no, no! Make like a sheep, Kidman, and get to flock! That’s a nice dress, but get naked and frock off! Make like dust and go fleck yourself!”
You got me again. That was all a complete lie. It was all a lot more complicated than that. Dreadful dread and exciting excitement mixed with nervous nervousness, in amongst the most awfully awful fearful fear you could imagine imagining! And that was just the start of starters!
Soon we were ready to go and I thanked her for her such a thoughtful present, yet quietly and uncertainly. But that was just the start of the gift that Kidman had in mind.
Want to read more? Read the whole story by clicking on the first blog called Prelude and start clicking forwards using the tabs above the title.
08:20 Posted in Part Two: Getting Some Answers | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this | Tags: haunted house, ghost story, horror story, astronaut, space, nicole kidman, journal