The inside of the house was very quaint. Two bedrooms, a kitchen, a drawing room, and a charming lanai. Each room was cleaned spotless and not a thing was out of place, you could almost see it sparkling.
"Impressive." Alastor said admiring the cleanliness. "Not a speck of dust anywhere."
"I take it that you're pleased by my work Mr. Boudreaux?"
The young man and his sister were greeted by a short and darling looking woman who carried a duster in one hand and a spray can in the other.
"As soon as Miss Rosie told me you were coming, I made absolutely sure that this house would be perfect."
"Are you the maid she sent in?" Alastor asked.
"Yes sir. I'm Niffty."
"Alastor and this is my sister Beth."
"Oh well isn't she the most adorable thing in the world." She gave Beth's cheeks a squeeze. "Cuter than a bug's ear."
"Uh...Thanks." Beth said trying not make her irritation at the maid's gesture evident.
"You two must be hungry from your trip. Would you like some tea cakes?" Niffty produced a tray of freshly naked, yellow cookies. "Made them myself. My mother always said that the best way to welcome someone is with a treat."
"No thank you. I don't really have a sweet tooth." Alastor said.
"I'll take one." Beth said, and by one she meant five.
"I'm so grateful that you'll be helping Miss Rosie this Summer." Niffty said. "Poor thing has had it very rough these last few years and could use some good luck."
"If I may ask, what happened to her?" Alastor asked.
"Oh well first her miserable, good for-nothing husband Frank leaves her for another woman and then that ghastly circus moves in here, trying to steal not only her customers but her cabaret as well."
"Steal?" Beth said.
"Well technically he wouldn't be stealing it if she signed over the rights."
"Signed over what rights? Would you mind filling in a few blanks?"
"Oh sorry. I forgot! You're new so you don't know the story. Valentino, the owner of that circus is trying to pressure Miss Rosie into selling the cabaret to him. Now why he wants it is a mystery to me because he has his own successful business, but that cabaret is all Miss Rosie has. It would be a down right sin to take it away from her."
"What's his circus like anyway?"
"Oh it's a disgusting display. Positively revolting. If I had children I'd never expose them to such terror."
Alastor put his hands over Beth's ears.
"Is this some kind of x-rated circus or something?" He asked.
"Oh no, nothing like that. Just something that takes people with a deformity, dresses em up as mythical creatures, and put em out there for everyone to make fun of. But that's only my opinion. If you find things like his circus entertaining, that's your right."
"Well I wouldn't say that but I may have a peak at that circus just to see what kind of competition I may be up against."
"In that case his next show is the day after tomorrow. Brace yourself." She warned. "Now Mr. Boudreaux, would you like me to help you unpack your things? Get settled in?"
"No. That's not necessary, You've done enough." Alastor pulled out his wallet and handed Niffty a ten dollar tip. "Thank you for taking care of the house."
"No, thank you for being so generous. If you ever need anything don't be afraid to call. I love making new friends and helping people."
"I'll remember that. Have a good evening."
They bid Niffty goodbye and proceeded to settle themselves into the house.
"So where will I sleep?" Beth asked.
"Probably my old room." Alastor answered.
"Uh-oh. I'm not going to find taxidermy in there am I?"
"No." He replied. "Because I didn't use a gun til I was ten. You know just because I like to hunt and fish, doesn't mean that's all I ever enjoyed. And I think you might like my old room."
He led her down the hall to the first door on the right. He opened it up to reveal a bedroom that filled his sister with immediate awe. Now the furniture itself wasn't anything special. Just a simple bed, nightstand, lamp, and dresser but what had Beth so astounded was the walls of the room. Instead of them being painted one solid color, they were decorated as an entire mural completely dedicated to the sea and the shore. The illustrated paintings of the ocean, the fish, the sea weed, the sea turtles, even some sea horses and dolphins. There was also sand, clouds, sea gulls, seashells, boats, a lighthouse, the sun over the horizon. It was a real master piece.
"This was your room?" Beth asked with her jaw dropped.
"Mom and my dad painted it for me when they found out they were going to have me. They always wanted the sea to be apart of my life. Probably because it was always apart of their's."
Alastor used to love this room when he was a boy. On especially cold and rainy days, he and his mother camp out in his room and pretend that it was the real beach. When it became late his parents would tuck him into bed, read or tell him stories about the sea, and sing to him. His father would tell him how when he was older he would teach him how to sail which sounded exciting to the boy at first but then...
"I'm sure you'll like this room much better than I ever did." He continued. "I'll leave you to get unpacked."
He then went to the bedroom that previously belonged to his parents and proceeded to unpack his own bags. He had just finished when he heard the phone ring.
"Hello?" He said picking it up. "Yes this is Alastor, who is asking?...Angel?...Angel is that you?...Hello. It's been awhile. How are you?...Oh you live down here now? That's great...No I'm just spending the Summer here that's all. How did you find out I was here anyway?...Oh you know Rosie...Well I guess you could come visit but please call ahead and be sober because my sister is here...Uh-huh...Okay. Bye."
He hung up.
"Who was that?" Beth asked.
"That was Angel. Turns out he lives here now."
"Oh no. Tell me you didn't tell him that we were here."
"Sorry Beth but that would be a lie."
"But he'll try to visit and you know I can't stand him."
"Now Beth I understand that Angel is a difficult individual to associate with. Believe me, no one understands that more than I do. But when the chips are down, he's a true friend.
"But he's so gross, every word out of his mouth is innuendo or something. He's also a junkie."
"He's a recovering junkie." Alastor corrected. "He tries. As for the vulgar language, it's how he deals with life Beth. He's had it rough and when people have it rough they cope with it in different ways."
"Yeah and he copes with it by screwing anything that moves."
"Beth!" He scolded. "Don't talk like that about him."
"You feel the same way. That's why you don't want me to be around him all the time."
"I disagree with a lot of his choices and there are times where he does things that you shouldn't see but I'll never look down on him and I'll never allow you to do the same."
"You know I can't understand why you always defend him? His lifestyle makes you sick. I know it does and if it were anyone else you would avoid them. So what makes Angel so special?"
"Just as I said, for all his faults he's a loyal friend and I owe him big."
"You owe him?"
"Yes. Because if it weren't for him I would have lost you to your so called father eight years ago."
That's when Beth became really quiet.
"Now I don't want you to say another unkind thing about him. Is that clear?"
"Yes."
"Good. Now then, I'm going to go into town and get some groceries for dinner. You wanna come?"
"No. I think I'll stay here and rest. It was a long trip."
"Okay but remember the rules. Don't leave the house until I get back and if anything happens, call me."
"Alright."
Alastor grabbed his keys, locked every door in the house, and went outside. He approached his car and was ready to get in but he suddenly heard a strange sound. It was faint, muffled by the winds and the tides but his hearing had always been exquisite and he could pick up the sound. Something about it made his curiosity extremely peeked and he found himself wanting to investigate it. The sound lured him down the hill toward the edge, somewhere between the road and above the tides, and when he reached that point he could hear the sound more clearly.
"As I went down in the river to pray,
Studying about that good old way.
And who shall wear the starry crown,
Good Lord, show me the way!
O' sinners let's go down,
Let's go down, come on down,
O' sinners let's go down,
Down in the river to pray.
As I went down in the river to pray,
Studying about that good old way
And who shall wear the robe and crown
Good Lord, show me the way!"
It was a voice. A woman's voice. A woman's voice singing a song which he could hear all around him. He heard it in the ripple ripple of the waves against the shoreline and salty air the blew in every direction. He had never heard anything like it and he thought that it was the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. It was as sweet as angels sighing and as warm as Summer sky. He was captivated by it, it moved his heart and sent his head for a spin. He thought that he must've fallen asleep and that he was surely dreaming because a voice so lovely couldn't be real.
"Hey asshole! Move out of the way!"
Alastor had become so immersed in the mysterious voice that he didn't see the truck driving up. He snapped out of it when the driver honked his horn and shouted at him but by then the vehicle had come too close. To avoid being hit, Alastor jumped off the edge of the road. He landed right in the ocean and felt himself rise back up the surface but the tides were especially rough this evening. As soon as he reached the surface, a wave knocked him against a rock and he was hit hard on the forehead. The impact caused him to lose consciousness and he began to sink toward the body.
The poor man would have surely died if something had not been grabbed him with gentle arms and held his head above the water, willing the waves to be calm and to take them safely to the shore.