Chapter 6, Tinfoil Cake.
Parking up didn’t take long. We had only been there for three months. The house was decorated for the 80s to the extreme, but it had been cared for, it only had a ghost that like to pick up glasses and throw against the wall. Scary when you can’t see the ghost doing it, but when it’s a woman in ballgown shouting “I hate you and the world” every time it’s hilarious and then old when the old when the unbreakable glass takes a chunk out of the wall you had just wallpapered.
She was sad that no one seem to notice when she gone. Gave her prep talk and got her to move on before she could change her mind. I hope that the “After” is better than just hanging around in house, scaring the shit out of people at 4 am.
I think my mum had only picked this place for the location between different antique shops, that seem have an endless supple of ghosts. She did have few private customers that called on her to sort the problem. I don’t know if they knew mum’s “Talent” or just that she can get rid of their problem. It’s amazing that we never run out of work. A lot of the objects and houses turned out not to be haunted at all. Stories have a major effect.
This house was in the certain of the town, with university and college making it perfect to rent out to students. Or sell on probably. I’m not sure how many of the houses my mum still owns. She rents the ones that have bad stories or might be slow to sell for boring reasons. I’ve lost count of how many houses I’ve lived in. Maybe there’s more that I haven’t even been in.
I lay down on the bed that will be going on a moving truck tomorrow. I’ve had it for four years, since we abandoned all the furniture that wouldn’t fit in the minivan with the seats taken out, and that included my princess bump bed that I had got after America. I wonder if it still in that house, with the little girl ghost that I was too old to play with.
That why I know my mum keeping something from me. Because we didn’t get rid of that ghost. That little girl waved goodbye to me as we drove away in my mum’s minivan with the missing seats. We had to leave that house, we’ve had to leave other houses.
I’ve been all over with Europe with this bed. If my mum had been any good at home-schooling, we would have kept at it I think. But that stopped really working after I was ten so that was a fun ten months before mum gave up and decided that I need to be educated in the school where I understood the language other than just being able to swear at the ghosts in a language they would understand. Yeah, international ghost business was a bit of a fail.
I think we’re running from something. I have no clue from what. I know nothing about my mum’s biological family. She ran away from something. I know she meet my father when she was at the circus because I have heard several stories about mum and been shown the photos by my circus “aunts”. We meet up with them when we in the same place. We got into America with them and went our separate away. Maybe we can go to Asia or maybe I’ll run away to the circus and make my own little mistake.
Okay, being in charge of a child next year sounds overwhelming. I’ve never even used public transport by myself. I know my mother loves me, she has also drilled safe sex into my head since puberty became a thing. She says it not about babies, but I think seeing the witches lazed attitude about teen pregnancy freaks her out. High death rate means that they end up raising each other kids anyway.
I was going to be around witches again and other magic knowers. Death Contracters don’t do much with spells and potions, but they can come in handy. Protection wards if violent which yes, can be done though sageing Wearing protecting amulets is generally useful. My mum has made me wear one since I can remember. Summoning and banishing usually involves a spell. Unless you’re me, who accidentally summoned a football team of ghosts once.
That was when I was thirteen and alone. Mum freaked when she came back to a house full of random sprits and swore never to leave me by myself again. She leaves me be a little now, all technically an adult and can be legally left to wander the sheets, but I think she still worried I’ll up graded to American Football team of ghost, which is 40. American football is dumb with how many people are on the teams. I guess because they constantly injured.
“Nova,” my mother shouts from across the house. She says something else, but it mumbled from this distanced. I drag myself from off the bed and get up to find her stuffing boxes. She sometimes likes to keep objects she finds. She generally likes antiques and knows how much they worth. I don’t know if I liked them, but I could make better profit that some of the TV experts. Surprisingly, my mum will not appear on TV despite being seen as inspiration as she was a teen mum who quit school. Seriously though, I think she hates that stuff anyway. She scoffs when she catches me watching it and by catching, I mean coming into see who I’m shouting idiot at.
“What is it?”
“Have you finished packing?” my mother asks as if it will take anytime. Packing was literally throwing my clothes back in the rucksack.
“Everything but the bed.”
“Good.” She goes back to stuffing boxes. She doesn’t ask me to help ever. She has a system and she doesn’t trust anyone else to follow it.
I got back to my room and throw myself on the bed. It shakes and then crashes to the floor. My mother doesn’t come into see me now half on the floor. I should have known this day would come.
We get to the house after the movers. I’m able glad that we have the money now to hire someone to do this. My mum and I do not make a good moving team. They also a woman waiting with a cake shaped thing. What flesh hell is this?
“Hello,” She enthusiastically greets us as we approach our own home. She thrusts the cake into my arms. No idea, why she picked me for this homemade thing. It’s covered in tinfoil. “I just wanted to pop in and to say hello to our new neighbours. I live just across from you.”
She points her mirror of house, that’s had the garage converted into another room. My mother tightly smiles.
“I was just so excited to hear someone was finally moving into the house. It’s sat empty for months.”
Oh, she is going into the ghost.
“I hope you and your parents have better luck than the last family.”
I snort. How off base.
My mum looks young I guess, and Sometimes I forgot how young my really is to some other mum’s. She only 33, this is the age a lot of woman have their first kids now. I do wonder if she wishes she had more than just me. I wanted siblings, because it wouldn’t just me. A baby now would probably just something I would be made to babysit.
“Actually, this is my daughter,” is my mother tight reply. She doesn’t give my name, so I know she somewhat annoyed, probably because we’re literally moving in at this exact moment. The movers have started taking in the main furniture. My bed is going to the skip, stupid thing.
“Oh, gosh,” is she American? “you look great for your age.”
“Do I look bad?” I ask. The woman looks confused.
“I had her when I was fifteen,” I give my mum a look. Weird lie.
“Oh, well, you must be so well for yourself now,” what hell does that mean? Her face pales. “Sorry, I just wanted to say hello and if you every need anything just yolla.” Her accent was definitely local. “Sugar or an ear to moan about that lousy landlord.”
OMG, this is the best. My mum might explode.
“What do mean?” my mother askes simply. If my hands were not full, I would film this.
“I just meant the Landlord was very patronising to the last tenant, ignoring their “issues” with the house.” She fingers quotes to indicate that she does not know what that means.
“Well, I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you this.” Oh, she wants to be. I drop the cake thing that never gonna be ate anyway. No one notices me and get my phone out.
“The thing is that house is haunted and the landlord would not let them have the house blessed or anything. In the end, He kicked them out with nowhere to go.”
“That’s funny, cause they got kicked out for craving up the walls and…”
“Those were the ghosts,” She interrupts. “They are very violent”.
“They weren’t when we lived here before,” I add.
“Yes, we use to live here before I started renting it out.” The woman’s face pales again.
“You’re the landlord.”
“Yes,” my mother replies simply and starts to walk away. The woman grabs her arm.
“I just wanted to say hello and say that I’m a friendly, I didn’t mean to be rude.” My mother shakes her off and goes into the house. Leaving me with the fake lady and tinfoil smashed on the grass.
“I just wanted to say that you are really rude.” I say and putting my phone back in my pocket. Okay, that was dumb, but who was to be friendly with a person lurking on your front garden. She looks dumbfound. I look back up her house to see that kid broke into our house of course. I go into the somewhat safety of the house.