Road Dogs

SEVENTEEN

WHAT DOES A CERTIFIED ADVANCED PARANORMAL INVESTIgator say to a woman who's had a hex put on her and is visited by ghosts? Once Dawn introduced him Foley said to Mrs. Karmanos:

"You remember Gene Wilder in Young Frankenstein? He's admiring the door to the castle and says, 'Look at those knockers!' And Teri Garr says, 'Thank you, Doctor.'»

Danialle seemed to smile, though he wasn't sure. She looked stoned, or hungover. "You have the same kind of knocker," Foley said, "on your front door, that ring of metal."

Dawn had said on their way here-in the new Saab Cundo had leased for her-Danny Karmanos wasn't on drugs or drinking to excess, she simply acted drained, devoid of hope. Though she'd become quite disturbed, Dawn said, when asked about ghosts manifesting themselves-especially her husband's spirit, and what Danny said Peter was telling her to do.

They stood in the front hall, Danialle wearing a black cashmere sweater, loose on her, and jeans, her feet in silver low-heeled shoes with laces, her blond-streaked hair not combed or brushed today, or perhaps lately, layers of rich-girl hair that a former movie star would wear whatever way she wanted. She might be depressed, but still looked good to Foley. She brought them into the living room, where lamps turned low showed comfortable pieces in tans and reds, more colors in the pillows scattered over the chairs and sofa.

Following Danialle, Foley said, "Remember Marty Feldman in the movie, with the bulging eyes? They come off the train and he tells them, 'Walk this way,' and Gene and Teri Garr try to walk the way Marty does, like they have curvature of the spine and drag one of their feet."

Dawn gave him a look that said, What are you doing?

Danialle turned to him with a smile he was sure of this time, beginning to show signs of coming alive.

He said, "Mrs. Karmanos, tell me, are you afraid?"

"Of course I am."

"Of what?"

She didn't answer but looked at Dawn.

"It's Peter's spirit," Dawn said, "who's disturbing Danny. I can't help but feel sorry for him"-Dawn turning to Danialle now- "once I understand what he's going through. You were the love of his life, he doesn't want you falling for someone else. But, his behavior is unacceptable." She said to Foley, "I hope you'll have a talk with him."

"Once we locate him." He said, "Dawn, why don't you look around, see what the signs are and I'll come and make him come out. But first I want to talk to Mrs. Karmanos."

"Doctor, I have all the information we need."

"Very telling. But I have to look at this from my vantage, if you want my opinion. I'll talk to Mrs. Karmanos while you check on the signs. I'm already thinking the house is probably in need of a good spiritual cleansing. Afterwhile I'll get the smudge pot out of the car. Unless you'll have time to get it. Dawn, I'm hoping Mrs. Karmanos can tell me whether or not we're looking at hypnogogia here, and I want to be absolutely sure about it."

It stopped Dawn, as if she wasn't sure what to say, but told him all right, go ahead.

He said to her leaving them, "I appreciate it." And to Danialle, "Where does he make himself known?"

"All over."

"Wherever you are in the house?"

"Yes, he shows up."

"He's always with you?"

"No, not always."

"You see him in dreams?"

"Almost every night. He comes-it's like a dream but it's different."

"He's rough with you?"

"He'll yell at me, something he never did when he was alive. When I think he might appear I try to stay awake." "You don't go to bed?" "Finally I have to."

"There's a drug called brown-brown," Foley said, "from Africa, a mixture of cocaine and gunpowder. You turn numb and stay awake for days."

"Can you get me some?"

"I wouldn't prescribe it for anyone," Dr. Foley said. "Your disturbed state made me think of it, that's all."

Danialle brought him to the master bedroom on the second floor where, she said, Peter made his most threatening appearances. Foley could see her hiding in the ultra-king-size bed while the ghost of her husband groped beneath the covers for her-this nifty-looking young widow desperate to be free and find love. What's the problem? It was everywhere, fooling-around love to going-the-distance love. She could have any kind she wanted if Peter ever got off her back. Even true love, someone with an open mind who wasn't weighed down with rules or serious flaws, like Adele saying, "I don't want to talk about it anymore," when she knew she was losing an argument. Maybe Adele's flaw wasn't that serious: they'd only quit speaking for five minutes. The bed wasn't made, a shorty nightgown lying on the quilt pulled up to the pillows, an impression in the one where she'd slept, or lain awake. He could imagine her in the nightgown, her bare thighs out of the jeans slender-not as hefty as Adele's, though Adele's thighs weren't bad, once you got used to them. Danialle brought him to a table that had a game board inlaid in the surface, with chess pieces in position.

"You play?"

"We did now and then. Peter was a master. I didn't care much for it."

"And that's his rocking chair?"

It was the kind of rocker he had seen pictures of President Kennedy sitting in, resting his bad back.

"The infamous rocker," Danialle said, "Peter's seat of judgment."

Foley said, after a moment, "Is it starting to move?"

It was, barely at first-Foley staring at the empty natural-wood chair-but gradually gaining momentum to rock back and forth at a leisurely pace.

"How do you do that?"

"You think I'm making it rock? It's Peter, letting us know he's here. It means he'll show up tonight and get on me about my irreverent conduct."

Foley didn't know what to think about a rocker that rocked on its own or was put in motion by a ghost. It didn't seem to bother Danialle. Wasn't there a guy who caused spoons to bend? It wasn't the kind of thing Foley ever thought about looking into, though he'd ask Dawn about this one. By now, Danialle must be used to weird shit going on.

"The reason a departed spirit remains earthbound," Foley said, "usually means he's lonesome and wants you to know he's still around. Or, there might be something he wants to tell you."

"You know what Peter's message is? Behave yourself. Quit acting like a tramp. I haven't had what you'd call a serious date since Peter passed away-and he calls me a tramp."

"Accuses you of fooling around?"

"The point he makes over and over, his message from the other side? Forget about finding another guy, I belong to him. He's defiant about it."

"You said he appears in a dream?"

"It's more real than a dream. I have the feeling I might still be awake."

"Can you move?" "Barely."

"You feel something holding you down." "Yes, and I start to panic."

"You're experiencing hypnogogia," Foley said, hearing himself actually using the word he'd picked out of Dawn's notes. "You don't know whether you're dreaming or it's actually happening. You feel you're possessed by the spirit of your dead husband"-Foley looking her in the eye, showing he was serious-"and there is not a darn thing you can do about it."

"That's it exactly," Danialle said. "Can you make him stop? Tell him to please leave me alone?"

"Do you talk to him?" Foley looked at the chair, still rocking but maybe a bit slower. "I mean if you know he's there."

"I've told him I'm sorry. I leave the room and he follows me. I can't find a way to tell him how I feel. He knows I'm not fooling around. I'm not in a rush, but I'd like to get my life going again. Is that wrong?"

"No, of course not," Foley said, with what he thought of as a sad smile, a wise sad smile, "not as long as you remain in a natural state of being yourself, obeying your instincts that are second nature to you. Use what you feel as well as what reason tells you and you'll stay on the right path."

That wasn't bad, words he pulled out of the air that sounded like Dawn running her psychic spiel.

"But I'm scared," Danialle said. "I've never thought about the afterlife before and now I feel like I'm in it. Miss Navarro, Dawn, must've told you, she's afraid that the state Peter is in now, he's become an incubus, an evil spirit."

And the female evil spirit-Foley getting them straight in his mind-was a succubus?

"What you see as Peter's evil intentions," Dr. Foley said, "seem perfectly reasonable to him. Why? Because your husband, Mrs. Karmanos, is still deeply in love with you. Tell me, has he ever, while you're sleeping, got on top of you?"

"You mean to have sex?" She said, "No, he's never done that," sounding somewhat wistful. "When I can't move it's like I'm paralyzed, feeling the weight of his words, Peter admonishing me to quit thinking about getting married again. I tell him I'm not. I don't think about it with any, you know, purpose. But he doesn't believe me. It's why I feel the force of this hex he's put on me. Call it whatever you want, it's a curse."

The curse of the gypsy woman.

"You spoke to Madam Rosa," Foley said, "about Peter, and she told you he's responsible for the hex. Why do you believe her?"

"Because it's real, it's happening to me and it's driving me fucking nuts." She said, "I'm sorry, Doctor, I never use that word. I certainly don't as a rule. Doctor, I'm so distraught I feel helpless. I don't know what to do about it."

"Was he driving you fucking nuts," Foley said, "before you told Madam Rosa about him or after?"

"The first time he started in on me, like he could read my mind, was at the funeral home. Everyone had left and I was alone in the parlor with him, sitting by the casket."

"Mourning your loss."

"And, you might say, thinking of my own life, the rest of it, what could be the best part of it going to waste, if I don't make something happen."

For the first time this evening Foley began to wonder how Da-nialle Karmanos saw him, the ghost expert in his free-falling sport coat and spotless jeans, one of the black shirts not buttoned to excess, and cowboy boots from a flea market, old boots, the toes curling up but they took a shine. Foley believed the way he dressed showed confidence, a nice guy being himself. Hi, I'm Dr. Foley, but you can call me Doc. In his own way a conservative ghost hunter.

"Tell me when you saw Rosa the first time."

"Months later. I mean from the time he died."

"You told her Peter had an unnatural hold on you."

"Rosa saw it right away. She said, 'You can't breathe, can you?'»

"No matter how much you miss him," Foley said, "you wish he'd stay in the spirit world-"

"And leave me alone," Danialle said. "I refuse to play the grieving widow and wear black the rest of my life. I have de la Rentas in black, but give me a break."

"You want him to know how you feel."

"Even though he'll always be in my heart and I do think of him, I mean a lot. But I refuse to make a career of grieving, like an old Greek woman with worry beads, mourning my way through a boring life."

"But you haven't told him."

"Not yet, but I will."

"What are you waiting for," Foley said, "his permission?" She didn't answer. He saw she was looking at the rocking chair, no longer rocking.

Now it was Danialle asking, "How did you do that?"