A Sputterling Christmas: Part Four

If you missed Part One, it’s here!

Part Two is here!

Part Three!

And now to Part Four of Christmas with the Sputterlings! 

I looked through the frosted glass of the front door. The silhouettes of two people could be plainly seen, thrown into sharp relief by the setting sun behind them.

One of them was speaking. “We’ll get to the bottom of this real quick, Inspector.”

I rolled my eyes. Officer Saggot was back. And by the looks of it, had brought reinforcements.

One of them put a finger on the bell and left it there.

I jerked the door open, startling the two men standing on the front step. “Officer?”

“Oh, erm . . . Mrs. Sputterling, I mean Kayser,” the officer said. He hitched his uniform up over his too, too solid midsection. “Yes . . . well . . . um . . . I'm back.”

I nodded. I mean, he was standing right there. Hard to miss. I leaned against the edge of the door. “Yes, Officer?”

He waggled a finger at me. “And to make sure there are no more shenanigans, I’ve brought Inspector Wilson with me.”

The way the title rolled off his tongue, I almost felt I should be bowing. I glanced at the man beside him. About retirement age. Short. Lean. With a gleaming bald head and thick, bushy eyebrows. “So?”

Now, I know you know I’m really not a rude person. But I’d been accused of nasty things by this officer and I wasn’t feeling charitable. Plus, I still hadn’t found my sister. Okay, yes, I had spoken to her, but you also know that speaking to Norma without benefit of visual aid is usually . . . unproductive. Or downright confusing.

“Mrs. Kayser.” The Inspector had decided to get into the conversation. “May we come in?”

I stood back and swung the door wide. “Of course. But I don’t know what you are going to be able to do.”

The two men stepped into the front hall.

“My colleague informs me that you have been uncooperative on this investigation.”

I frowned sharply. “I have not!” I snapped. “It’s just that he didn’t believe me!”

The inspector’s eyebrows went up. They looked like two big, fat caterpillars perched above his eyes.

“Did you know your eyebrows look like big, fuzzy caterpillars?” someone asked.

I suppressed a smile.

“I . . . erm . . . what?” The inspector looked around. “Who said that?”

“It’s her! The sister. I told you!” The officer leaned toward his colleague, looking smug. “Still up to their tricks!”

The inspector narrowed his eyes and looked at me. “Would you be so kind as to explain this, Ma’am?”

I shrugged. “I will but you won’t believe me.”

He merely waited. 

I sighed. “This house is haunted.”

The Inspector sucked in a quick breath.

I paused, but when he said nothing, went on. “My sister has been quite friendly with the spirit or spirits who live here. Christmas, BBQ’s. Weekends at the lake. She invites them to everything. Yesterday, she disappeared in the middle of a conversation about going to the ‘other side’ for a visit.”

Officer Saggot snorted. “See? And she expects us to swallow this!”

But the Inspector was looking . . . interested. “Go on,” he said.

I blinked. “Well . . . there’s not much more to tell.” I scratched my head. “I’ve talked with her. She says she’s having fun. Norma never really was much into details.”

“So she’s on the other side right now?”

I nodded.

The eyebrows again as he tipped his head toward me. “Could I talk to her?” 

His colleague looked at him, a sharp frown on his round face. “Sir, I . . .”

“If you aren’t interested, go wait in the car, Saggot!”

“No. No, I’m interested,” he said hurriedly.

“Well, we can try,” I told him. I looked up. “Norma? Are you here?”

“Well where else would I be!” Norma sounded a little testy. “I live here, don’t I?”

“The inspector wants to talk to you.”

“I heard!” There was a pause. “So? What do you want to talk about?”

“Well . . . maybe you’d like to describe to me . . . erm . . . where you are?”

“I’m right here!”

He looked around. “I don’t see you.”

“Well, on the other side of right here.”

“Could you describe it?”

A sigh. “Foyer. Stairway. Doors to the front room and the outside. Hallway to the back of the house. My sister and two policemen standing looking around. I don’t know. What do you want to hear?”

“That’ll do.” The inspector was looking more and more  . . . happy? Excited?

“Sir, I really think we should be . . .”

“Quiet, Saggot!”

The officer pressed his lips together and took a step back.

“So you don’t have to wait for night or the light of a full moon or anything like that to talk to us?” the Inspector asked.

“Nope.” Norma was sounding a little more cheerful. “The lines are always open.”

“Are there other . . . people there?”

“Oh, yeah. Lots of them.”

“Any . . . young people?”

I looked at him. His expression had just gotten very intense.

“Oh yeah!” I could hear the smile in Norma’s voice. “They keep things hopping!” Her voice lowered a bit in volume, almost as though she had turned away from us. “Yeah. Yeah. Okay.”

“What?” the Inspector asked.

“Oh, I was just talking to someone. I’m supposed to give you this.”

A hockey stick appeared out of the air, narrowly missing Saggot as it clattered to the floor between the two officers.

A Sputterling Christmas

 Part One

I stopped in the living room doorway and just—stared.

A long streak of sunlight bathed the area in a bright glow, which was remarkable in itself following weeks of grey and gloom. But what really caught my attention was that there, in the center of said glow, huddled a smelly old bird. In a cage.

Reginald had come home. 

For a moment, the two of us eyed each other. 

Okay I admit it, even though we have, at times, shared accommodations—the most recent being at Cousin Edith’s house—we have never really been friends.

He ruffled up his feathers and croaked something that sounded like ‘smelly old broad’.

I narrowed my eyes, then tried to infuse some enthusiasm into, “Hello, Reggie, old boy. You’re home!” I don't think I nailed it because he immediately turned his back, shook his feathers and shot out a great, white glob which, with impressive accuracy, completely missed the pristine paper in the bottom of his cage and landed on the shining clean floorboards at my feet.

“Did you see?” Norma bustled into the room behind me. “Reggie has come home!” She noticed the great gob on the otherwise spotless floor.  “Oh! Reggie you little rascal!” She turned back toward the kitchen. “I’ll just get—”

What she was going to get was left to Reggie’s and my imagination. He had slicked his feathers and was looking toward the empty doorway--hope for possible treats in his round, dark eyes. I, on the other hand, was pretty sure her abrupt departure had something to do with bird poop.

He and I never have existed on the same plane.

I took a chair on the other side of the room, as far from the upcoming action as I could get, and picked up a magazine.

Norma scurried back into the room and I smirked at Reggie. I was right. She was carrying the anticipated bucket of warm, soapy water and a sponge. And, inexplicably, the star for our Christmas tree.

She dropped the star into my lap, then carefully lowered herself to the floor and attacked Reggie’s welcome home gift.

I picked up the star and stared at it. Then looked at her. Well, at her broad backside, which was all I could see. “Ummm—Norma?”

“It’s for—the tree—dear.” Her words were slightly muffled and punctuated by her cleaning efforts.

“Yeah?”

“I’m getting—the tree and—stuff out.” She sat back on her heels and wiped her forehead with the wrist of the hand holding the sponge. “It is December.”

“Yeah,” I said again. “But why did you bring it in here?”

She looked at me and frowned. “I don’t know.” She shuffled a bit on her knees, the held up a hand. “Could you please—?”

I sighed, got to my feet and helped Norma to hers, then followed her into the kitchen where she deposited her bucket. From there I trailed her to the sitting room where our tree sat in lonely glory in one corner, flanked by numerous boxes.

“See?” she pointed.

I set the star on a table and moved to sit in the one big armchair.

“Nooo!” she shrieked. “That’s for her!”

I paused halfway to sitting and blinked. “Her?”

Norma nodded. “Her.”

“Ummm—Norma?”

She smiled. “Well I’ve spoken to Frosty at the department store, written to Santa, even begged Krampus and the Grinch, who obviously must know her—”

I straightened and looked at her. “Okay?”

“Well, it's fairly certain by now we're never going to get her to leave. So I’ve decided that the only way we are going to have our beautiful white Christmas is to invite her.” Her smile widened. “Christmas is for sharing. That’s why I brought Reggie home. Oh, and Edith is coming, too.”

I turned toward the door.
“Where are you going? I need your help!”

I shook my head. “You’ve spoken to all of your imaginary friends. I’m going to call Batman.”

One of us needs to keep a foot in the real world.