Schuyler Square Day 67 Haunted?

"I don't know about this Steve." DeeDee Robertson stared up at the ceiling. "Maybe we shouldn't move here." She was lying next to her husband Steve at a rundown motel in the dinky town of Schuyler Square, Illinois, and she had the feeling that the two of them had just made one of the bigger mistakes of their marriage. Bigger than the time early in their marriage they had decided to Z brick a wall in the living room only to find their math was off and they ran out of fake bricks two-thirds through the project and couldn't afford any more. Steve had made up for that goof by strategically placing the remaining bricks in a staggered pattern that looked fine when you were drunk but a lot like a gap toothed beggar the rest of the time. Bigger than when DeeDee planned a camping vacation and then accidentally gave them food poisoning ten miles from the nearest indoor bathroom. Bigger even than when they allowed their daughter's then-boyfriend to move in with them only to find out he was wanted by every branch of the law in the tr-state area. Still, this mistake made the other ones look incredibly minor. Were they really going to be happy living in a small town in a haunted house?

"Honey, relax," Steve said. "The house was left to us, free and clear. We both agreed that if we move to Schuyler Square we'll be able to enjoy our retirement with a lot more freedom. You know the rent back in the city was killing us. And think about the grandkids. Austin and Kayla are going to love visiting us here."

"But the house is haunted," DeeDee reminded him. "I don't want to live in a haunted house and I don't want my grandchildren visiting a haunted house."

"We don't know for sure that it's haunted. We heard it from two women who were probably tossing back Long Island Iced Teas when we interrupted them. Plus we're practically evicting one of them. Maybe they're tweaking the ghost story a little just to scare us off."

"They wouldn't do that. They looked like nice women. I think they were telling the truth. We're giving up restaurants, shopping and museums to move into an old house with a ghost in it."

"A free old house with a ghost in it."

"I don't want to live there."

"DeeDee, you're going to make yourself crazy and take me along for the ride. What can we do so this ghost business doesn't bother you so much?"

DeeDee considered their options and was dismayed to realize that they really didn't have many at all. Steve was right; the cost of living in the city was ridiculous and their retirement dollars would definitely go a lot farther out in the sticks. Plus they'd never had a house before and she knew it was going to be wonderful to finally have a garden and a garage and a yard. "I suppose that if we got to the bottom of what happened in the house, maybe it wouldn't be so scary. Chelsea said they never found out who murdered the woman living in our house. Maybe if we find out her soul will be at peace and she'll leave us alone. At least that's the way it always works in movies."

"Great idea. You get to the bottom of it. You love to read mysteries so maybe you can solve this one." Steve sounded like he was almost asleep.

"Will you help me?"

"You know I will," Steve agreed.

DeeDee felt better. "The first thing I need to do is find out just what happened. Who was she? Why would anyone want to kill her? How was she killed?'

"That's right, honey," Steve said, his voice barely a mumble. "You figure it out. You can do it."

DeeDee nodded in the dark. She could do it and she would. Starting first thing in the morning.

Schuyler Square Day Ten Kirk Contemplates Having a Dad and Ron Contemplates Running Away

His father. His FATHER? Kirk sat in the dark after talking to his mother feeling a lot how he imagined Luke Skywalker must have felt after learning Darth Vader was his old man. Of course he knew that he had a father but in all honesty he hadn’t given the matter much thought since hitting puberty. Now his mother was telling him that he did indeed have a father and that said father was alive and well AND a billionaire. Things were looking up.

Of course Kirk would go to Schuyler Square where hopefully he’d get to meet his father too but first there were a few questions he wanted to ask his mother before that momentous meeting. Such as why the hell she’d never bothered to mention Kirk’s father before this? And why she'd suddenly decided to go back to Schuyler Square now? It had to be the money situation. Kirk knew his mother was very upset since being laid off from her job. He also knew that she hadn’t been able to find anything else for close to six months. Had she gone to Schuyler Square asking for money from the man who had apparently sired him? That had to be it.

Kirk got up and headed for his bedroom. He had a lot to do before leaving for Schuyler Square—pack, tell his boss he’d be gone for at least a few weeks, arrange for someone to come in and take care of the cat, do the laundry—Kirk frowned. He hated doing the laundry. Maybe he’d just pack dirty clothes and let his mother wash them when he to there.  Yeah, that would work and plus it would make Mom feel needed. Kirk knew how important that was to her. He wanted to finish the chapter he was working on too. He was so close to a breakthrough that he could almost taste it. 


Kirk wondered if his father liked to write too. He wondered if they looked alike. Did he have any brothers or sisters? Wow, of all the things his mother might have sprung on him, the fact that he actually did have a dad was absolutely blowing his mind.



Ron Schuyler felt like crap.

It had all started the day Veronica Channing had walked back into his life, announcing that they had a 27-year-old son and that he, Ron, had better come up with a job for her, pronto.

Ron buried his graying head in his hands and wished he was at least 10,000 miles away. He also wished he’d never gotten married, never laid eyes on Veronica and had gotten a vasectomy when he was seventeen.

This was awful. It was bad enough learning about Kirk but then Lynnette had to go and get herself killed by her own daughter. Ron knew what that meant: Tiffany would be living with them permanently, not just while his sister was in Rome. He knew it was heartless and cruel to be thinking about something as petty as a permanent house guest while Lynnette’s ashes were waiting to be scattered but Ron couldn’t help himself. He was basically a heartless and petty man.  His niece was all right but she’d eat them out of house and home and Ron was sure that his life was going to be one hysterical moment followed by another until he was ready to be put into an urn.

His thoughts went back to Veronica. He hadn’t seen her since their visit in his office but he knew she was still around. Schuyler Square was a small town and he had seen her a few times—crossing the street, at the coffee shop downtown, walking toward the post office. The hell of it was that every time Ron saw her, he felt an old zing rush through his body and he knew he wouldn’t mind a few more afternoon romps with Veronica.

What was he thinking? His libido always got him in trouble. Hadn’t he learned that yet?

“Ron?” The sound of his wife’s sharp voice penetrated the fog around his head. “Ron! We have to go to the hospital and pick up Tiffany!”

“We’d better stop at the grocery store first,” Ron muttered.

Mavis appeared in the doorway dressed entirely in black to honor her late sister-in-law. She reminded him of a crow. No wonder he was forever chasing after other women. “What are you doing?” she demanded. “We’ve got to get going. That poor child is waiting for us.”

“I’m sure she’s comforting herself in the hospital snack bar with plenty of junk food,” Ron replied.

“Knock that off, Ron. We have a job to do and come hell or high water we’re going to be there for Tiffany.”

Ron raised his eyebrows, surprised by Mavis’s apparent maternal interest in her niece. She had never shown all that much maternal interest in her own children. “What else do you propose we do, Mavis? We’re taking the girl in. Isn’t that enough?”

Mavis shook her head. “No, it isn’t. I was talking with a police officer I know and he told me about a wonderful youth group that he helps run. I think we should get Tiffany signed up as soon as possible.”

“What police office could you possibly know?”

“Peter Van Husen. I don’t think you’ve ever met him. Now let's go, Ron. Tiffany's waiting.”

Ron looked at his wife closely. She actually seemed to be blushing.