Tuesday
“This is a rather challenging story to accept, but there has been a great deal of unexplained agitation in the mansion,” Charles Xavier spoke thoughtfully over a steaming cup in his office the following morning. “The staff and students here tend to be very... intense, shall we say. But these past few days the level of emotional ‘static’ has been higher than normal. It spills over my daily shields at times.”
Rogue, Bobby, Jubilee, Kitty, Storm and Logan all sat gathered around the Professor’s desk, their minds still whirling over the night’s events. Logan spoke first, “If these guys are ghosts, and the kids did manage to somehow call them here from...” he gestured at the air, “wherever, there ought to be a way to send them back the same route. Right?” Rogue noted Logan’s atypical request for validation: he was definitely treading unknown territory.
“That does seem sensible, but I’ll confess: I know nothing about ghosts and the like,” Storm commented, still feeling the lack of sleep. She’d had far too much coffee lately, and it was giving her a caffeine buzz which she detested.
Turning to Rogue, Jubilee asked, “Is there a way to send them back? You’re the closest thing we’ve got to an expert here, since your great-aunt Millicent was a ghost-hunter.”
“It was my great-aunt Mildred, and Aunt Millie was a medium. There’s a difference, and I’m not her, and I don’t know what to do.” The room fell silent for a moment before Rogue continued, “I’ve heard of house cleansings and banishings and stuff like that, to drive out evil spirits, but I don’t know how it’s done, or if you have to have special skills or tools or anything like that. We were just playing a game, for heaven’s sakes... I’m so sorry about all this.”
Logan’s hand went to her shoulder and he rubbed her comfortingly, “No one’s blaming you, kid. You weren’t the only one there. Hell, I even watched the movies with you leading up to that,” Rogue’s eyes went to his in surprise. “Yeah, I noticed all the ghost-buster flicks and the seance books and DVDs, all that shit, every night.”
“You don’t miss much, do you?” Kitty commented with a small smile.
“Not much. You even invited me to join you when I stumbled into the seance, but I blew it off as a game, too. No one’s to blame. It just weird-shit luck it turned out this way,” Logan threaded his fingers through his hair. “I’m still not sure I believe it.”
The Professor eased his chair back from the desk and gazed out the window briefly, adding, “Ghostly manifestations are not unknown, nor undocumented by reliable investigators. There are some things that science cannot yet explain. Even in this age of evolving mutations, some people still cannot believe that a human can fly under his or her own power, or that some people have blue skin, or can read thoughts. And yet, here we are,” he smiled at his staff and students. “We are about to have an education beyond what is normally taught in schools, even a school as unusual at this one. We shall seek an expert.”
Picking up the phone from his desk, Charles punched in a number and waited quietly. Rogue noted no long-distance beeps in the number, so whoever he was calling was very local. As soon as the other person picked up, Charles’ voice and face both brightened noticeably, “Good morning, Bryony. I’m sorry to disturb you so early, but I have need of a consultation with you. Could you come to my office sometime early this afternoon?”
Rogue noticed Logan’s intense focus on the Professor’s conversation, and knew that he was eavesdropping on the other person’s voice with his acute hearing. Noting his intrigued expression, her curiosity leaped, but she fought down the urge to ask what was so fascinating. The Professor’s voice brought her back to the moment, “Very good. I’ll see you here at one, and thank you. Goodbye.” Cradling the phone again, the Professor looked at the group around him, “Our expert will be here at one. I’ll speak with her alone first, and then if you would all make yourselves available here after one-thirty, I would appreciate it greatly. I’d like to see this problem solved with the greatest expedience, for everyone’s sake.”
Nodding agreement, they all went about their morning routines.
“Who do you think it is?” Kitty was almost vibrating with curiosity over lunch.
“No clue, but I’ll bet we could pry it out of Wolvie - he was so listening in on that conversation,” Jubilee poked her soda with a straw. “You could almost see him tuning his ears into the phone, the cheat.”
“You can’t pry anything out of Logan if he isn’t willing to talk,” Rogue commented, then tapped the side of her head when they all looked at her. “I know these things, trust me.”
Bobby came to attention and grabbed Kitty’s arm, poking Jubilee in the shoulder and indicating with his wide blue eyes for Rogue to look through the doors. Passing by the hallway door, they saw the Professor gliding silently down the hall with a dark-haired woman walking beside him, her hand resting on his shoulder. The two laughed amiably and chatted as they disappeared behind the doorframe. “That’s got to be her! It’s one o’clock, on the button.”
Moving as a unit, the teens leaped from their seats and ran into the hallway, only to see the two people disappear into the big office, the door closing firmly behind them.
“She looked kind of young and sweet for a ghost-buster.”
“Did you get a good look at her face? I didn’t.”
“She’s dressed like a farmer - I would swear she was wearing bibs under that denim jacket.”
“Maybe it’s not her - maybe it’s someone else.”
Rogue grew tired of the speculation and added, “Maybe we’ll all find out later when the Professor calls us in for the interview. I’ve got class in ten minutes. See ya.”
The afternoon dragged by until Rogue was finally called to the big office. Professor Xavier sat quietly while the denim-clad woman questioned Rogue at length about everything from the timing of the ritual to the actual words spoken, tools chosen, all the fine details she could remember. All during the interview, Rogue noted little details about the woman introduced to her as Bryony Cooper: mid-thirties, wavy dark hair, pretty face with brown eyes and full lips, a casual and friendly manner, and definitely possessed of a thorough knowledge of what questions to ask. She also had a marked rural accent that seemed more northern Appalachian than southern. Rogue grew to like the woman as they talked.
“Tell me about the last manifestation,” Bryony encouraged her as they neared the end of their conversation. They’d talked for well over an hour on all the fine details. “I just need to know about that particular night, and I’ll let you get back to your classes.”
“It was pretty awful,” Rogue began hesitantly, not actually thinking the woman would believe everything she’d experienced last night. After a lengthy description and several specific questions, Bryony shook Rogue’s gloved hand and the Professor escorted Rogue to the office door as Logan was waiting outside. With a wink in Rogue’s direction, Logan turned and entered the open door. Rogue observed Logan meeting the woman and shaking her hand as well, with a big, flirty smile on his face.
As the door drifted shut, Rogue sighed deeply and muttered to herself, “Men. First he says I’m hot, and now he’s charming the ghost-buster.” She returned to her last class.
The interview stretched into the late afternoon before the Professor was called away on business, leaving Bryony and Logan to continue the question-and-answer session on their own.
“Do you mind showing me where you saw these soldiers become corporeal?” The dark-haired woman looked up from the book she’d been taking notes in, and was caught off-guard by the man’s intense gaze and slightly crooked smile.
“Never did mind showing a pretty woman to my bedroom,” Logan teased, and gave her a genuine smile.
“If that’s okay, I mean... I don’t want to invade your personal space,” Bryony blushed and back-pedaled before Logan rose and reached a hand to her.
“Invade. Come on, I’ll show you.”
Logan watched the woman walk quietly around the open space in his room, as if she was hunting something that resided in the air around them. He discretely sniffed her out: she smelled like fresh air and fresh bread and sage and raw green beans. She’d been in a kitchen and a vegetable garden recently. It smelled good. She smelled good.
Her question broke his reverie, “You say they were partly astral and partly corporeal? All at the same time, or in turns, or what?”
Logan thought a moment before answering, “First they looked kind of... misty, like a ‘ghost’ supposedly would look. Then they looked solid, but I threw a punch at one and my hand went right through him. One pulled a gun and tried to fire at the women in the doorway, but there are no bullet holes anywhere. And yet, Rogue had blood splattered on her nightgown from when one of them pinned her to a sink and he definitely touched her. When she tried to hit him, her hand passed through.” He hesitated again, then added, “How weird is this to you?”
She sank down on the windowsill before answering, “I’ll admit this is a lot more intense than most things I’ve dealt with, but it was an intense event that spawned it. Charles told me about the raid a few days after it happened. I was on a trip out of state at the time, and got back late in the night so I didn’t know about the attack and the damage until the next day.” Noting Logan’s confusion, she added, “I live very close by, on acreage behind this mansion. I have a farm back there. You’re my neighbor.”
“A farmer and a ghost-buster? What do you do in your spare time?” He teased her gently, making her laugh.
“Well, with a farm there really isn’t a lot of free time. And the term ghost-buster is a misnomer. I’m...” she hesitated, looking at him intently. “I’m a...”
“A mutant? Me, too - nice to meet ya.” He gave her a grin and a symbolically-proffered handshake.
“No, I’m a witch, but not a mutant.”
His sharp laugh caught her off-guard, and he saw her emotionally shut down to him. Instantly regretting his unintended derision, Logan drew himself up short and apologized, “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting that. A witch?”
“Yep, a witch. It’s a long story, and best kept for another time. I have a theory about your intruders if you’re interested.”
“Very.” Logan settled himself on the foot of the bed and gave her his full attention.
Bryony Cooper spread her fingers and pressed her hands down on her thighs before speaking, “My theory is: strong emotions are what hold a departed spirit to a spot that means something, like a loved home, or the spot where death occurred, so forth. If the idea of a veil separating the planes of existence is accurate, and crossing that veil is difficult, then the ritual that the students worked may have created a portal, for lack of a better term, allowing the soldiers to start returning. Making multiple trips through that portal may have given them more practical opportunity, or more ‘muscle’ if you will, to become corporeal. Practice does make perfect. From what the others have told me, each encounter becomes more hostile and more dangerous as the soldiers’ spirits start becoming corporeal more often, and for longer periods of time. In a way, they gain strength and power. Are you still with me?”
“I think I am,” he nodded, “ But I’m the one who took them out. Why are they threatening the kids?”
“They were on a mission. They came here to take hostages and let nothing stop them. You killed them, so they want revenge. They’re still on the job - and they don’t want to let anything stop them, especially you.”
“How do you know what they want?” Logan leaned against the desk and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I’m a little empathic, and it just stands to reason.”
“Empathic? But not a mutant?”
“Nope. Been blood-tested three times - I’m a hundred percent homo sapiens.”
Logan pinned her eyes with his and asked directly, “You got any bias against mutants?”
She answered him as directly, “No. You got any bias against witches?”
“I don’t know. Tell me about it over dinner and then I can make an informed decision.”
“I... uh.. I...” Bryony stuttered, before finally adding, “Okay.”
“Tell me what time to pick you up, and where.”
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