CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED and FIFTY-NINE
(part four)

“You are his . . . blood,” Gilfand gave a soft shake of his head. “She’s not going to like that.”

“I would think she would love to see her own descendants,” Celia said.

“Too much grief,” Gilfand shook his head. “You sure you want to . . .?”

“My wife is having my sons tonight,” Jacob said. “If we don’t break this curse . . .”

“Yes, Rosenthal told me,” Gilfand nodded. “There is supposed to be one other.”

They looked around the sandy boat launch. Jacob pointed toward the beginning of the boat ramp and they climbed up the stone masonry ramp. They stopped at the top to look around. The gargoyle landed on the low stone wall.

“He’s coming,” Gilfand pointed to a man getting out of a parked car. “He is a Celt.”

They had to jump back to get out of the way when the gargoyle took off. He made quick time to where the man was walking toward them. The man and the gargoyle had a terse argument as the man walked and the gargoyle flew toward them.

“Hallo,” the man smiled. He held out his hand, “I’m James Kelly. You know my brothers Cian and Johnny.”

“Jacob, Valerie, and my father Sam,” Jacob shook James’s hand. “I thought you went by Jimmy.”

“Only to my baby brother,” James said. He gestured to the gargoyle, “This your flying rat?”

Gilfand hissed at James.

“Seems to belong to Fand,” Sam said.

“The fairy queen, Fand? I see,” James said. “Seth told me something of your quest. Frankly, I only came to see how you managed to illegally enter the United Kingdom. Any of you have a passport on you?”

Jacob, Valerie and Sam shook their heads.

“Where did you come from then?” James asked.

Jacob turned to gesture toward the sewer pipe they’d emerged from. It had vanished. He gave Valerie a worried look. James followed his gesture, and noted Jacob’s look to Valerie.

“There’s clearly more to this than meets the eye,” James said. He looked at Celia. “Are you going to introduce the ghost?”

“You can see her?” Sam asked.

“I’m Irish,” James said. “I see everything. Whether or not I acknowledge it is another thing?”

He sneered at the gargoyle. Gilfand returned the disdain.

“This Celt cannot come with us,” Gilfand asserted.

“This Celt has to go with them,” James said. “Because this Celt has to keep track of them, and keep them from running afoul with the local authorities.”

“The Celt will destroy everything,” the gargoyle said.

“If by ‘destroy everything’ you mean, keep them out of prison, then you are correct little rat,” James said. “It’s your choice – I can take them now or  . . .”

Gilfand hissed at James.

“This is my mother, Celia Marlowe Lipson,” Jacob said.

“Ma’am,” James said. “Why are you here?”

“We’re cursed,” Valerie started. “Our boys are . . . I lost mine and . . .”

“I read that,” James blushed and looked away. He glanced back at Valerie, “I’m a bit of a fan. Love your latest, by the way.”

Valerie gave him a dazzling smile, and he wilted. The gargoyle scowled.

“Jake’s wife, Jill is pregnant with twin boys,” Valerie said. “If we can lift the curse, we remove the threat to her life.”

“Wait, Jill . . . Jacob . . . You wouldn’t happen to be Alex’s contractor?” James asked. “Father of Paddy’s best friend, Katy?”

“Guilty as charged,” Jacob smiled.

“You’re practically family,” James said. “I spent an evening last Christmas completely charmed by Katy. She’s wonderful.”

“Celts,” Gilfand hissed and rolled his eyes.

Valerie scowled at Gilfand and he shrugged.

“What do you know?” James asked.

“Seth said that we should go to a Castle Rushen,” Sam said. “We need to talk to a ghost there.”

Denver Cereal continues tomorrow…

CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED and FIFTY-NINE
(part three)

Valerie led the way out of the storm drain and stopped just inside the concrete sewer junction opening. Jacob and Sam stood next to her. A small sandy beach lay at their feet, and the Irish Sea lapped along a sandy shore left The light from the nearby lighthouse flashed across the entrance of the sewer pipe. Jacob walked onto the sand and turned around. They had come from what looked like an ancient brick and stone mason boat launch. On the other side of the small beach, a stone masonry walkway led to the lighthouse.

“I thought it was daylight,” Sam said.

“I think it’s supposed to feel that way to us,” Jacob said. “What time is it?”

“If we’re in one time, it would be about three,” Celia said at the same time Valerie said, “Around three in the morning.”

“One time?” Jacob asked.

“I don’t know what time we’re in,” Celia said.

“Mom wonders if we’ve jumped time,” Jacob said.

“Gosh, I hope not,” Sam said. “I only speak English.”

Celia smiled at her Sam. The only thing Sam cared about was connecting and communicating.

“Did your mom make a joke?” Sam leaned into Jacob to ask. Jacob shook his head. Sam continued, “She’s thinking it.”

Sam put his shoulders back and said in a loud voice, “I like people. In whatever time we’re in, there’s gotta be people I’m gonna have to talk to, Celia.”

He nodded like they’d had this conversation before. Valerie looked at Jacob, and he shrugged.

“Your mother thinks I should be more disturbed by all the oddities of our life,” Sam shrugged. “How is the fact that you can move things with your mind any more miraculous then the fact you were born at all? We’re surrounded by such an incredible world; why would I be more in awe of your talents than everything else?”

Jacob patted his back in agreement.

“Do we have any idea where we are?” Valerie asked.

“No, but he probably does,” Jacob pointed to an old grey gargoyle perched on the boat ramp.

“Tá tú ar an Oileán de Dhéantús an Duine,” the gargoyle sneered at them.

“Wha . . .?” Valerie looked at Jacob.

“I’ve got this,” Sam said. “He said . . . uh . . . We’re on the Isle of Man. Yes, we figured that Mr. Sarcastic Gargoyle.”

The gargoyle snickered at Sam. Confused, Jacob and Valerie looked at each other.

“Anyway, wouldn’t just be ‘The Isle of Man’ and not Oileán de Dhéantús an Duine since it’s a name?” Sam asked.

“You caught me,” the gargoyle said in a thick Manx accent. “My Irish is a little faulty.”

“I’ve been learning from those Irish friends you have Jacob,” Sam nodded. “I figured it would come in handy at some point. Plus, it gets me free beer at the Irish Snug.”

Sam held out his hand to the gargoyle.

“Sam Lipson,” he said.

“Gilfand,” the gargoyle shook Sam’s hand.

“Servant of Fand,” Sam translated. “Aren’t you all Gilfand, then?”

“I’m her personal servant,” the gargoyle said.

“Will you take us to her?” Celia asked.

Gilfand gave Celia a long look before turning back to Sam.

“My mother asked you a question,” Jacob said with force.

The gargoyle jumped with surprise. He turned his whole attention to Jacob.

“How dare you imitate my King?” Gilfand leaned to get a closer look at Jacob. “Who are you? State your purpose!”

“I’m Jacob Marlowe Lipson,” Jacob said. “This is my father, Sam Lipson; my sister, Valerie Lipson; and my mother, Celia Marlowe Lipson. We’ve come to reverse a curse placed on my family.”

Gilfand locked eyes with Jacob.

“You are his . . . blood,” Gilfand gave a soft shake of his head. “She’s not going to like that.”

Denver Cereal continues tomorrow…

CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED and FIFTY-NINE
(part two)

“These Celts are desperate, and capable,” the English speaking gargoyle said. “You must be very careful.”

“You do what you need to,” Tanesha scowled at the gargoyle. “We’re going to have some babies.”

There was a sharp bark at the door. Sandy opened the door for Scooter. He trotted in as if they’d been waiting for him. They moved Jill into larger exam room where she’d wanted to have the babies and helped her onto the table. A few minutes later, Yvonne and Anjelika appeared with Rachel, Mack, Jackie, and a bleary eyed Katy. Unaware anything was going on, Katy climbed onto the table with Jill. She leaned her head against Jill’s belly.

“Mommy,” Katy gave her a sleepy look. “My brothers are very scared. They didn’t want to come out now. They aren’t ready.”

“Celtic magic,” the English speaking gargoyle hissed. “They made her go into labor.”

He disappeared.

“That’s okay,” Tanesha said. “No problem. We just need to slow things down. Jill, you remember your breathing?”

Jill nodded.

“Come with me, Katy,” Anjelika said. “We’ll find a place to rest.”

“No,” Katy shook her head vehemently. “My brothers need me here.”

“Katy, you need to rest,” Jill said.

“What about here?” Sandy pointed to the comfortable old armchair sitting in the corner of the room. Jacob had moved the chair there so Katy would have a place when Jill had the boys. “Katy can rest right here.”

“Okay,” Katy said. Sandy helped the little girl climb down and settle in the chair. Scooter lay down next to the chair.

“Does your cell phone work?” Tanesha asked Heather.

Heather nodded.

“Can you call . . .?” Tanesha started.

“Already did,” Heather said. “Blane said he can talk you through what you need to do to slow things down. He wanted to be prepared in case the babies came suddenly, so he left some of his supplies in the cabinet in the lobby.”

“Can he come?” Tanesha’s voice rose with desperation. Heather shook her head. Tanesha nodded.

“Are we ready?” Sandy asked.

“We’d better be,” Jill panted. “I don’t think I can slow this down.”

“Yes, you can,” Heather moved to Jill’s side. She took Jill’s hand and gave her cell phone to Tanesha. Sandy moved to Jill’s other side.

Tanesha took one last look and went out into the lobby.

“Blane?” Tanesha asked.

Denver Cereal continues tomorrow…

CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED and FIFTY-NINE
(part one)

“Who is here?” Heather asked.

Sandy went to the other side of Jill.

“The Celts,” the gargoyle said. “They have come for the children.”

“One had a name on shirt . . .” Brutus said in breathless broken English. He pointed to the top of his breast pocket. “Experiment Genetics, Latin.”

“Experiri Genetics,” Jill grunted.

“They want Jill’s babies!” Sandy gasped.

“What do we do?” Noelle was suddenly standing right next to them. Her hand in a cast and her face bruised, she looked like a brave child soldier ready to fight for the cause.

“We will confuse them,” the gargoyle said. “They will be lost in the house.”

“I will stay here,” Otis said. “Ward them off.”

“I’ll stay with you,” Anjelika said.

“You’ll miss . . .” Otis started.

“Jill is surrounded by love,” Anjelika gestured to the girlfriends. “I will not leave you.”

“What can we do?” Charlie asked.

“You can help us,” the English speaking gargoyle said.

“No,” Sandy shook her head. “They are children.”

“They want to help,” the English speaking gargoyle said. “They can be very useful to us.”

“They’d better not be injured in any way,” Jill grunted.

“Non nocet ad eos,” said the older gargoyle, as he appeared next to the English speaking gargoyle.

“What did he say?” Sandy asked.

“No harm will come to them,” Brutus translated.

“Get her to the birthing area,” the English speaking gargoyle said. “The children will help us. We cannot birth the babies; we can only take them if the mother dies. Go now before bad things happen.”

“Mom!” Jill said. “Aren’t you . . .?”

“Go,” Otis said. “I’ll be fine. Brutus will stay with me. We have fought in many wars together. This is merely a battle of the minds.”

“Mom, we have to get the babies,” Tanesha pointed to the nursery where Mack, Jackie, and Rachel were sleeping. Yvonne and Anjelika went into the nursery.

With Tanesha and Heather on either side, and Sandy to open doors, Jill and the girlfriends made their way down the stairwell to the kitchen. They were almost to the ground floor when a gargoyle appeared.

“Hush,” the gargoyle said.

They saw three men move through the kitchen and into the living area.

“Haven’t we been here before?” one of the men asked.

“I haven’t,” another man said.

The girlfriends waited a moment before racing through the kitchen and up the stairwell to the second floor. They were just at the door to the old medical offices when a man appeared on the hallway. A gargoyle pushed them through the door. They heard the man run by.

“These Celts are desperate, and capable,” the English speaking gargoyle said. “You must be very careful.”

Denver Cereal continues tomorrow…

CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED and FIFTY-EIGHT
(part six)

“I thought you knew,” Jill said. “I thought you wanted me to bring these home, you know with General Hargreaves. I’ve just . . . kept them . . . all this time.”

Jill looked from her mother’s confused face to Otis’s pinched features. Her grandfather was counting the pages of the photo album.

“Why do you think he always kept this with him?” Jill asked.

“I thought he wanted to remember happier times,” Anjelika said. “There are pictures of he and my brother in there, you kids, I . . .”

Anjelika shrugged.

“I guess I needed to believe that he cherished something more than . . .,” Anjelika took a breath. For a moment she held her breath. When she sighed, she looked heartbroken. “ . . .revenge.”

Jill kneeled down and hugged her mother. When she heard Otis say something to Brutus, she looked up at them. Otis touched Anjelika’s shoulder. She looked up at her father, and he said something in Russian. She shook her head and repeated the words he’d said. For the first time in all the months of knowing him, Otis’s face showed real human emotion. He looked crushed.

Anjelika let go of Jill and hugged her father. They were crying and talking at the same time. Jill sat down on the edge of the armchair where Scooter was sitting. She watched as the walls created by decades of mistrust and deception crumbled between them. Leaning back, she snuggled Scooter and looked away to give them privacy. After a few minutes, her mother laughed.

“He thought, even now, that I had them, used them,” Anjelika’s wet face smiled at Jill. “He forgave me even though he thought I had . . . I had betrayed him . . . and ”

“I am a fool,” Otis said. “So much suffering because of . . .”

He waved his hand over the photobook and Jill nodded. He wiped his wet face with his aged hands and looked at Brutus. His life-long bodyguard smiled at Otis.

“Is good,” Brutus said. “Is very good.”

Otis reached out and hugged Brutus.

“Do you still need to pay this back to . . . them?” Jill asked.

Otis nodded.

“Debt like this is never forgiven,” Brutus said. “Only accepted; never forgiven.”

“What will you do?” Anjelika asked.

“I will think for a while,” Otis said. “I have much to make up to my Angel.”

Anjelika leaned forward and they hugged again. Jill smiled. Brutus tugged on the photo album and Otis let it slip from his hands.

“I go make safe. I’ll be back in no time.” Brutus emphasized the American saying. Jill smiled.

With the album tucked under his arm, Brutus left the loft. Otis cast a worried eye after him, and then turned back to Anjelika. Smiling, Jill stood to go to the kitchen. She was halfway across the loft when Brutus rushed in the door. The yellow lab, Sarah, and the ugly dog, Buster, zoomed in after him. He slammed the door and leaned against it.

Otis said something in quick Russian.

“Men,” Brutus said in broken English. “With guns. In house.”

“What?” Sandy’s voice was heard over the others.

Jill took another step and whoosh, her water broke. Jill gasped and grabbed her belly. The girlfriends and Yvonne ran to her.

“They are here for the babies,” the smallest gargoyle said in clipped British English.

“Why is he speaking English?” Tanesha asked.

The gargoyle smirked. Tanesha got to Jill first. She put her arm around Jill to hold her up. Jill crumpled forward with a contraction.

“Who is here?” Heather asked. Sandy went to the other side of Jill.

“The Celts,” the gargoyle said. “They have come for the children.”

Denver Cereal continues on Monday…