The Levitating Village
Chapter Seven - The Vestinauts
I woke as Lana woke. Slightly embarrassed, I slid out of the bed we shared the previous night.
She pawed with a smile and half open eyes, “Morning Doug.”
“Morning, Lana.” I said, still a modicum of embarrassment in my voice.
I stood looking out of the window. Lana seemed to sense my wandering eyes and spoke up, “There are a number of these houses around the Village. When it lifted, many of the Villagers scattered in fear. Some were on holidays somewhere else and didn’t wish to return to their properties after the whole place went zoom.”
“Right. Sounds likely.” I nodded.
“So what now?” said Lana, climbing slowly out of bed. She had slept in most of her clothes, but what became revealed to me was her lithe athletic build. I could see the shape of her breasts, which didn’t help with my embarrassment.
“I thought you might have some ideas?” I said eventually, when I thought my voice would sound at least vaguely normal.
“I don’t know, but it raises an interesting point; what the Hell am I going to do now? I’m stuck. I can’t do anything anymore. He will twist the situation so the Police come after me too. Why did I do it? Why did I go in his office, when I knew he was around?”
“Never mind.” I said, hopefully comfortingly, “It can’t be helped. We’ll just have to work around it, that’s all.”
“What about my GrandFather? How am I going to find him now?” she said with a slightly cracked voice.
I looked at Lana. Her eyes were down, staring at the floor. Her shoulders began to shake. Gradually this was followed by tears. I moved over to her and held her while she cried. She clutched onto me like her life depended on it. I gently stroked her hair. She dug her head further into my shoulder. I felt a tear of my own roll down my cheek. I hadn’t really had time to assess my situation. Now this outpouring of emotion from Lana gave me permission to feel something. But one of us had to be the stronger one. Surprisingly it was me.
“Stick with me.” I whispered in her ear, “I seem to be living a charmed life at the moment. Nearly bullet-proof. Except for the bleeding wound in my side, of course. But that’s of no matter. We go on, not because we desire to, but because we have to. We will find your Gramps, I promise. “
Lana pulled away from me, wiped her eyes and coughed, “We need to get you some more clothes. Those are barely wearable.”
I looked at my ragged destroyed suit with some pride, “I don’t know? They’ve seen me through quite a lot.”
“They also stink to high Heaven, Doug. Come on; let’s go over to Rosemary Trafford’s shop. She has some second hand clothes in the back. Surely something will fit you?”
We left soon after, taking the back of the house where it led onto a small wooded area, where we would be unseen. As we had a target, we moved swiftly towards the entrance of the Village, where Rosemary Trafford’s Village Shop was located. The door to the shop was positioned up a set of eight concrete steps. The door was festooned with badges, stickers and produce labels, also bespoke advertising paraphernalia. A small sign on a ragged piece of string denoted the shop was open. Even here I gained that sense of the spirit watching me. That plague doctor watched my movements like it was its only reason for existing. I tried to push these thoughts out of my head. The last thing I needed now was to be going bonkers. That is if I hadn’t already. Lana went in first, moving to the rear of the shop where there were a number of clothes racks holding second hand apparel. I tried to keep as incognito as it was possible to do, picking up a Newspaper. Emblazoned all over the front of that Newspaper was information on the murder. How they got the news so fast astounded me, but the press works much like a disease; it gets everywhere without consideration for who it hurts. Guilt by press. That was the next step. Being on edge, the next thing that happened would have been better if it hadn’t. But it did, so I had to lump it. I became aware of a shorter than average height, late middle age woman standing, or rather hovering like a carrion bird, by my shoulder.
A voice croaked, “Terrible isn’t it?”
“What? Oh, yes. Terrible. Te-ri-ble.” I said, affecting an unusual accent that didn’t really come from anywhere.
“Do I know you? You’re not a regular. Are you a Villager?” asked Rosemary with suspicion.
“I been here a couple of months.” I fibbed.
She seemed to brighten up, “Really? Who are you stopping with?”
Lana reappeared then, and dragged me by the arm out of the shop.
Rosemary called to us as we left, with waving hand, “Well, bye then! Do come back!”
We made a little distance before Lana spoke, “She’s bound to call someone, if only to gossip. We need to get out of sight. Quickly.”
We moved towards the church and hid behind a gravestone, holding hands. I could get used to that, “Well, this is great.” said Lana, brushing some clotting moss from her blouse.
“Do you think we’re safe?” I asked, my eyes darting automatically in fear, collecting information about the best possible exits.
“It couldn’t be worse right now. I know I was on to something up there at Marshall’s Country Club. Now all my bridges are burned. I’m in the same boat as you.”
I chuckled under my breath, “This boat’s been sinking for some time now, I think.” I said, almost to myself.
“All those months!” Lana said, emphasising the frustration with fist to knee, “All that hard work! Lost, because of impatience!”
“It’s not all doom and gloom, Lana.” I said, with an attempt at soothing, “We’ve not been caught and arrested, we now know who did it, and all we need now is evidence.”
“How are we going to do that? Everyone’s on the lookout for you.”
I had a plan, “Well, first, I suggest a look at the body. Perhaps we can get the coroner’s notes, or something?”
“They would still have him over at the Funeral Home; the Seabrooks.” said Lana, becoming intrigued.
“How are we going to get in?” I asked, “We’ll be rumbled as soon as we set foot anywhere near there?”
Lana smiled as a revelation came to her, “Come with me. I got an idea.”
#
Some time passed at the Reverend Dylan Murray’s kindness and acceptance. Lana explained her plan. It was simple, dangerous and practically foolproof. For anyone else other than me, that is. I may be on a lucky streak, but goodness knows how we were going to get away with this. Then I reminded myself, the oddness in this Village wouldn’t notice another odd thing in it’s midst. We employed Dylan’s makeup box and ample material to construct a disguise. They were finally done. One piece of the puzzle was missing.
“You want my what?” asked Dylan, taken aback.
“Come on. We need it. We’re desperate.” pleaded Lana.
“I have less than you might think I do.” countered Dylan.
I tapped an invisible watch not on my wrist, “Time’s of the essence?”
Dylan looked resigned, “Okay. I’m only doing this because I know you’re innocent. I suppose under the eyes of the Lord it can be justified?”
“Thank you so much, Rev.” smiled Lana. Not that she needed to, but she brushed a strand of hair coquettishly out of her eyes.
“It’s greatly appreciated.” I emphasised to Dylan.
“It cost me a lot of money.” Dylan said, moving to the back of his chambers, “But no, you’re right. This is a better, more Christian use for it.”
“Well, if by Christian, you mean lying, deceiving, stealing and covetness, then I agree.” I said, under my breath while I was pretty sure Dylan was out of earshot.
Dylan returned and handed it to Lana. She spun the tailored suit around her finger on its hanger. She smiled and kissed the Reverend on the cheek. I could see what this did for him. He obviously felt something for Lana. He may have for some time. And she was very astute. She could see it in him, how he had looked at her until she showed she had noticed, whereupon he would obviously and outrageously turn his attention to something that obviously didn’t need his attention, but it looked like the most important job in the world. We slipped out through the vestry door and into the early afternoon sun.
“You shouldn’t tease him like that, Doug. He’s a good man at heart.” admonished Lana.
I hung my head in shame, “I know. I know. I owe him a huge debt of thanks. But first we have to finish this. Then I can thank those who I owe gratitude to.”
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