Ghastly Glass (4 page)

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Authors: Joyce and Jim Lavene

BOOK: Ghastly Glass
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Chase jumped to his feet and picked me up, turning both of us around until I thought I might vomit. But it was good. We were okay. “You know I would’ve made that guy joust me for you, right? And I don’t mean one of those jousts for a flower or a handkerchief. I mean a joust to the
death
.”
I eyed him carefully. Was he losing it? Sometimes the playacting in the Village got to people and they couldn’t differentiate real from Renaissance anymore.
“Just kidding. But I
am
the bailiff. I would’ve demanded vegetable justice for the fraud perpetrated on my heart.” He shrugged and smiled at me before giving me a long, slow welcome-back kiss. “That was good. Let’s head over to the dungeon. The Village can live without us, at least for the rest of the day.”
We stayed glued to one another as we covered the ground from Brewster’s to the dungeon, kissing and panting the whole way. I vaguely heard a few people call out to us. Bo Peep had misplaced one of her sheep again and wanted Chase’s help finding it. Little Jack Horner had his thumb stuck in a pie and was looking for help getting it out. The Lovely Laundry Ladies, all garbed in black now, wiggled their pieces of laundry at us.
It seemed to take forever to cross the King’s Highway and get past the line of visitors waiting at the privies before we finally reached the dungeon. Chase put his key in the door and kicked it open without ever losing lip-lock. Now
that’s
talent. But before we could step inside, there was a terrible screech from within the two-story building.
“What was that?” I looked up before the scream had dribbled down to painful-sounding pleas for help. “Is that in here? ”
The dungeon where Chase lives and dispenses court has a series of almost-authentic cells that wind through the bottom floor. Outside are the stocks where visitors (and sometimes residents) can pay to throw vegetables at someone else. That’s vegetable justice. The upstairs of the dungeon is Chase’s apartment. Kind of small, but in this case location was everything.
“That’s my banshee. You like her? ”
I shuddered. “It’s
awful
. How did you do it? ”
“I didn’t. I got it off eBay. Sounds creepy, huh? ”
“You could say that. I suppose the whole Village will sound like that by tomorrow.”
“You bet. Wait till you see all the stuff we have going on. Dead Queen Elizabeth will be riding through the Village twice a day, her ghostly features gazing out at us from her carriage window.”
I supposed this was what I’d worked so hard to accomplish. I wanted to be here for the Haunted Village and here I was. Chase closed the door behind us, and I followed him up the winding staircase to the dungeon’s tower.
The amorous mood had dissipated with the banshee’s wail. We sat around and talked about all the tricks and treats visitors could expect to find and what had been going on during the weeks we’d been apart. I wasn’t mad at Chase for the abrupt change. I felt the same. But I thought we might have to disconnect the banshee if we were ever to be in a romantic mood again.
“I got something for you!” He jumped up from his chair and went to the table in his cramped kitchen area. It was fine for a man who thought making Pop-Tarts was home cooking. Not being much of a cook myself, I never encouraged him to feel any different. I was excited about the gift. The spontaneity was contagious. What could it be? I’m not much of a jewelry person, but a jeweled dagger with a sheath would be nice. No well-dressed Renaissance lady should be without one.
The wrapping paper was a brown bag with
Ace Hardware
printed on one side. He handed me the package then hovered anxiously, waiting for me to open it.
I smiled and took the pair of elbow-length gloves from the bag.
“They’re flame retardant. Maybe you won’t get burned so much when you start working with the hot glass. Do you like them? ”
It wasn’t a jeweled dagger, but Chase’s handsome face looked so worried that I had to love his gift. “They’re wonderful! Exactly what I need. Thank you.” I kissed him slowly and all those warm thoughts that had brought us to the dungeon returned with a vengeance. He picked me up and was heading toward the bed when his radio went off.
He started to ignore it. I could see him struggling with the decision. Unfortunately, it was one of those stupid radios that starts talking without anyone flipping or pressing anything.
“Chase, we need you over at the Caravan Stage. We’ve got a group of rowdy young guys on stage with the dancing girls. Chase? Can you hear me? ”
I looked at him. He looked back at me. It was his job and the Village depended on him. “Don’t worry about it.” I almost meant it. “I should go over and check everything out with Roger before tomorrow anyway. I’ll meet you back here.”
“I’m sorry.” He kissed me. “I’ll make it up to you. No banshee when we come back.”
I agreed to that and some pasta from a new restaurant, Polo’s Pasta. We left the dungeon together, splitting up at the tree swing next door, to go our separate ways.
Life was good. Even the fairies (dressed like wraiths) made for a feeling of happiness. Usually they were the ones wearing less than anyone else. But for Halloween, they were like the rest of us, covered from neck to toe.
I managed to get past the Three Chocolatiers and Fabulous Funnels without buying anything, even though the scents were wonderful. I waved to one of my previous teachers, Gullah basket weaver Mary Shift. She was sitting on her steps across the way from the Glass Gryphon, a sweetgrass basket balanced on her knees.
Before I had a chance to go and talk to her, Henry grabbed me and brought me quickly into the glass shop. “There you are! I knew you’d change your mind.” He kind of whirled me into a corner between some glass horses and ships. He put one hand on either side of me and stood there, grinning like the Village idiot.
“I think you should move,” I told him. “We don’t want to break anything.”
“That’s what I like, a feisty woman! I couldn’t wait to see you again.”
I was about to show him what I’d learned in self-defense class a few years back when Roger came into the display area. “Jessie! I’m glad you changed your mind. There’s so much to show you.”
Henry moved aside but not before his predatory eyes told me we’d be back in the same circumstance again sometime.
Bring it on
, I mouthed at him before going to join Roger. No way was this loathsome Lothario going to ruin
my
time in the Village. Roger was right. I needed to learn enough in the next few weeks to use in my dissertation. Henry wasn’t going to get in my way.
“I’m glad to see you’re dressed sensibly,” Roger said. “We have to wear very plain, craftsman type of clothes here. Everything we wear while we’re working with the glass should be made of cotton or leather, and no open-toed shoes. Blowing glass and even doing these ornamentals can be dangerous. I see you’ve brought some gloves. That’s a good idea. You can’t wear them out here for demonstrations, but you can wear them in back with the furnace when we get it working again.”
“I can’t wear jeans and a sweater when I’m working,” I explained. “Portia would only give me a witch’s costume.”
“I’ll talk to her and we’ll get something set up, even if you have to dress like a boy.” Roger shook his head. “I voted for this idea about Halloween. Visitors are always a little slack this time of year. Now I’m not so sure. Some people seem to have gone overboard with it. I hear there’s a falconry show where the falcon actually flies into the audience and pretends to pluck out someone’s eye. It’s a resident planted in the audience, of course. But it’s pretty gross just the same.”
Henry laughed. “My uncle’s a little old-fashioned, Jessie. He thinks Halloween should be all pumpkins and black cats. I heard they’re doing the jousts to the death complete with fake blood.”
I shrugged. “None of it’s real. I guess it doesn’t matter much what they do.”
“But some of it is real, at least lately,” Henry said. “Like Death dying today.”
“Now that was an extreme circumstance and a terrible accident, I’m sure.” Roger said it like he was reading a press release. “This hot weather can get the best of anyone.”
That and a little rebar.
We walked over to one of the workbenches where I’d be learning my craft. “So what will I do first? ”
“First of all, I want to make sure you understand that you won’t be a certified glass worker when you finish this apprenticeship. It took me more than ten years to become a master glassblower, and that’s only in the states. In Europe, it’s much more difficult. There’s a formal program a person has to pass before earning the title.”
“I understand. And you know what I’m looking for out of this. So where do we start? ”
“Good enough.” Roger nodded. “We’ll be doing lamp-work while you’re here, unless we get the furnace working. We’ll start with the basics. This will be your workbench. Keep it clean and free of unused material. Remember you’ll be working with flame and it can be dangerous.”
“Yes it can,” Henry added. “You can look at either of our arms and see what he means.”
Henry rolled up his sleeves. Roger did the same in grand dramatic fashion. Both of them had scars on top of scars crisscrossed from their hands to their shoulders. It was pretty effective as a safety lesson. It might be manly to be scarred that way, but the only scar I wanted was a pirate tattoo.
Roger had just begun explaining about the process of removing stresses introduced into glassware during the glassblowing process when the door to the shop flew open and the Black Dwarf all but fell across the threshold.
“Someone help! Call the bailiff. There’s another death in the Village!”
Three

W
here at? ” Roger helped the Black Dwarf to his feet.
“I saw him near the fountain at the Hawk Stage. Is the bailiff here? ”
“No, but I used to be a police officer. Lead the way.” Roger sounded suitably impressive using his TV police voice. I wondered if they taught all officers to talk that way.
“We’ll just stay here, and I’ll help Jessie with whatever she needs.” Henry leaned toward me and smiled in an unwholesome manner.
“No way! I’m going, too.” I took out my cell phone (I was allowed to have one on me since I wasn’t technically working yet). “I’ll give Chase a call as we’re going.”
“I don’t need Chase!” Roger ran out the door before me. “I have years of experience at this kind of thing. Chase is a pretty face they set up here to
pretend
they have some law enforcement.”
I’d bet he wouldn’t be willing to say that to Chase’s
pretty
face.
Chase finally answered his phone as we ran by Pope’s Pots and veered around the long lines of people waiting at the privies. “Come to the Hawk Stage. There’s another death.”
“I’ll be right there. Have you called 911 yet? ”
“No. Roger’s on top of it.”
“Great.”
I thought maybe some of the crowd was there to gawk at the dead person, but once we got past the privies, the street was relatively clear. The Hawk Stage was occupied by another bird of prey show where the trainer was trying to get a bald eagle to come down from a parapet. He wasn’t having the best of luck despite holding out some kind of meat in his gloved hand. The audience sat craning their necks, watching the bird. There was nothing unusual going on here.
Next door, kids were climbing on elephants and camels for a ride around the animal enclosure. A group of teenagers dressed like knights were waiting their turn, laughing as the elephant lifted sand with his trunk and sprayed himself and his riders.
“I don’t see anything.” Roger turned to the Black Dwarf, who’d come up panting behind us at that moment. “Where did you see this death? ”
The Dwarf pointed toward the fountain. (I call it the Lady Fountain because the water is gushing up and down some poor Renaissance woman’s gown. Who’d think of such a thing? It makes me uncomfortable every time I see it.)
“He was right there, big as day. Bigger than the old Death. I don’t think there was
anything
under his black robe. His scythe was
huge
. He started to swing it toward me, but I ran away. He could be anywhere by now.” The Black Dwarf seemed sincere in his fright. His little white goatee trembled, and his eyes were huge beneath his black stocking cap, which swept the ground behind him.
I could see Roger was angry at chasing an apparition rather than finding another dead body. “You might’ve mentioned that, Marcus. We ran here in this heat for a costumed character.” Roger started walking back toward the Glass Gryphon.
Chase came tearing up at that moment. He could really move considering he had serious muscles and a broad chest. Most runners are skinny, but not him. No wonder everyone said he’d turned down all kinds of scholarships in college to play football. A thrill of pure delight ran through me when I saw his sweaty face. “What’s going on?” he asked.

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