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Raven - Part Six

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Raven - Part Six
by
N.C. Weber

    The three sat around a cozy little tea table in the den.  A tea service was set out neatly on the table.  All the implements were made of silver and were polished to a glorious shine.  The cups were made of bone China and held intricate floral patterns on the inside.  Dr. Haversham poured while Dr. Pedimont was laying out an array of tea biscuits onto a plate from a cookie tin.

    "One lump or two, dear?" asked Dr. Haversham.

    "Oh, uhm, two please," replied Raven.

    "There we are," said Dr. Pedimont after putting the cookie tin away.  "I always say that things are best discussed over tea and biscuits.  Here you go old chap."  Dr. Pedimont handed Corbie a tea biscuit.  Corbie took the biscuit in one claw and began to nibble at it.  "Now, start at the beginning, if you would."

    "Well, about a month ago, I was driving home from work," began Raven, "when this guy who was driving somehow lost control of his car and...well, that's as much as I can actually recall.  My next moments were waking up in a freezer unit in the morgue."

    "Oh my," exclaimed Dr Haversham.  "How simply dreadful."

    "According to the attending coroner, I was mangled, decapitated and severely burned in the crash," continued Raven.  "Yet, now I'm whole again."

    "But, if you were as badly damaged as you say," said Dr. Pedimont.  "How is it you're still alive?"

    "That's just it," said Raven.  "I'm not alive.  I'm still dead.  Here, I'll show you."

    Raven picked up a bread knife from the table, which only reason for being there was that it went with the rest of the tea set.  With quick slash of the knife, Raven open a deep gash in her arm.

    "Good heavens!" exclaimed Dr. Pedimont leaping from his seat and nearly upsetting the tea table.  "What are you...?"  Dr. Pedimont watched in silent amazement as light poured from the gash in Raven's arm.  "Astounding!" he whispered.  "Simply astounding!"  Then, the light faded as the wound closed up, leaving not so much as a scar on Raven's skin.

    Dr. Pedimont flopped rather heavily back into his chair.  Dr. Haversham had placed both hands on over her mouth when she watched in horror as Raven cut herself with the knife.  She still maintained this posture without having moved so much as an inch.

    Raven smiled humorlessly.  "You two gonna be alright?"

    Dr. Pedimont worked his jaw like a goldfish before finally uttering a few sounds.  Eventually, he was able to force himself to speak.  "I say..."  That was all he was able to managed.  Dr. Haversham swallowed hard and dropped her hands to her lap.  "So, you're one of the living dead."

    Raven nodded.  "If you can call it living," she said.  The comment did manage to pull a smile from Dr. Haversham for a few moments at least.  "I think you two can help me."

    "Us?" squeaked Dr. Pedimont.  "What can we do?  Admittedly we deal in ghosts and spirits, but I'm afraid that the living dead is a little outside of our experience."

    Raven shook her head.  "I don't want your help for myself.  I need you to show me how to find ghosts."

    Dr. Pedimont blinked a few times and looked toward his assistant.  "Er," hazarded Dr. Haversham, "why do you want to know how to find ghosts?"

    "I have been charged with the duty of assisting lost souls in attaining a higher plane of existence," said Raven.  "I'm not up on my religion or anything, but near as I can tell, I help souls reach a place of waiting."

    "Waiting?" asked Dr. Pedimont.  "Waiting for what?"

    "Final Judgment."

    Drs. Pedimont and Haversham were both silent for quite a while.  Then, as if the heavy air of gloom had lifted from the room, Dr. Pedimont slapped his thigh soundly.  "Right!  Very well, then, we shall aid you as best we can."

    "W-we shall?" asked Dr. Haversham somewhat tremulously.  She was still spooked by all of this.

    "Brave heart, old thing," said Dr. Pedimont soothingly to his assistant.  He turned back to Raven.  "We can help you, if you help us."

    "Sounds fair," said Raven, "but what can I do?"

    "Allow us to study you," said Dr. Pedimont.  "Perhaps we can shed a little light into your current predicament."

    Raven looked at Corbie who had up to now been following the conversation like a spectator at a tennis match.  "What do you think?"  Corbie fluffed his wing feathers, the raven equivalent of a shrug.  Raven turned back to Dr. Pedimont.  "Alright," she said, "I accept your offer.  However, if I'm going to be helping you, it's going to be difficult keeping my messenger job."

    "So, you're asking for wages, then?" supplied Dr. Pedimont.

    "Not much," said Raven hurriedly.  "Just enough to pay my rent.  I don't need to eat, really.  I sort of do it on occasion out of habit."

    Dr. Pedimont waved his hand dismissively.  "Tish tosh.  You'll stay here at the manor."

    "Are you serious!?" exclaimed Raven and Dr. Haversham in unison.

    "You can't possibly let her stay here," insisted Dr. Haversham.

    "Why ever not?" asked Dr. Pedimont surprised by Dr. Haversham's reaction.  "It will make things much easier for all of us.  She'll be available to us for our studies, and have full access to everything in the house."

    "That's what I'm afraid of," said Dr. Haversham under her breath.  Raven, however, overheard her.  She couldn't help but smile and tried to hide it by taking a rather long sip of her tea until she could regain her composure.  Dr. Haversham didn't miss the smile and stared bloody murder toward her.

    Terrific, sighed Raven to herself.  It seems the good Dr. Pedimont has an admirer in his assistant, and she thinks I'm after her man.

    "Er, who else lives in the house?" asked Raven.

    "Dr. Haversham has a room here, of course," said Dr. Pedimont, "and then there's Mr. Blake, my steward."

    "Blake?"

    "You met him the last time you were here."

    "Oh," said Raven brightening, "Mr. Secret Service."

    "That's Mr. Blake to you, young lady," snapped Dr. Haversham, "and don't go taking advantage of Dr. Pedimont's hospitality."

    "Phoebe, my dear, of course she wouldn't," protested Dr. Pedimont.  "What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"

    Dr. Haversham looked chastened and blushed a bit.  "I'm just...tired, I guess."

    "Well, that's alright, then," said Dr. Pedimont patting his assistant's hand.  "We'll pick up where we left off tomorrow."  He stood up and gathered all of the tea things onto the tray.  "Why don't you show Raven to the spare room, Phoebe?  Dinner will be served promptly at seven."  He walked out of the den carrying the tea tray.

    Raven felt very uncomfortable sitting in a room alone with Dr. Haversham.  Corbie, in the meantime, clicked his beak a few times.  "Ho, ho, ho, very funny.  Ha, ha, ha, it is to laugh," deadpanned Raven.

    "I beg your pardon?" huffed Dr. Haversham.

    "Corbie was laughing at me," explained Raven, "...again."

    "Well, I'll not have that creature flitting about this house making a mess of the place," said Dr. Haversham sternly.  "You either keep him in a cage or keep him outdoors."

    Corbie cawed loudly, startling Dr. Haversham.  Raven's eyes went wide.  "I've never heard that kind of language from you before."

    "What did he say?" asked Dr. Haversham somewhat hesitantly.

    "It would be rude to repeat in polite company," offered Raven.  "He is wild, actually, so outdoors will do fine for him."  Raven turned toward the bird on her shoulder.  "Right?" she said putting as much menace behind her voice as she could.  Corbie bowed his head.  Raven nodded her satisfaction.  She turned back to Dr. Haversham.  "You know, Dr. Haversham, it's generally been my experience that simply saying how you feel about things makes life imminently simpler."

    "I don't know what you're talking about," said Dr. Haversham with a sniff of disdain.

    Raven sighed inwardly.  "It's obvious you like Dr. Pedimont.  No doubt you've been throwing every hint you could think of after him and he still hasn't bought a clue."  Dr. Haversham's jaw dropped open and indignity spread across her prim features.  Raven held up a forestalling hand.  "Don't say anything you don't really mean.  I know you're going to adamantly deny my claim, but hear me out at least."

    Dr. Haversham shut her mouth, and her smoldering eyes cooled somewhat.  "Good," said Raven with a smile.  "Now, I won't pretend to know Dr. Pedimont very well at all, but of the times I've seen him, he has a tendency to focus on what he's doing and nothing else.  If you want to get his attention, you're going to have to try a more direct approach."

    "Just what do you expect me to do?" asked Dr. Haversham huffily.  "Just blurt out my feelings for him?"  After a few moments pause, she added hurriedly, "Not that I have any, because I don't."

    "Girl, please!" interjected Raven as she folded her arms akimbo.  "You've got it so bad it's written all throughout your body language."

    "I-it is?" asked Dr. Haversham nervously.

    "But, that's pretty much the problem in a nutshell," said Raven.  "Dr. Pedimont isn't in tune to subtlety.  If you want him to know how you feel, just tell him."

    "I...I can't," sighed Dr. Haversham.

    "Sure you can," said Raven.  "Just take a deep breath and take the plunge."

    "But, what if he doesn't feel the same way?" asked Dr. Haversham.  She seemed more vulnerable to Raven than the confident demanding woman who spoke before.

    "Let me put it this way," offered Raven.  "If you ask him, you'll find out whether he feels the same way or not.  If you don't ask him, you'll find out nothing."

    Dr. Haversham nodded absently.  She seemed to be lost in thought.

    "And you don't have to worry about me," put in Raven with a smirk.  "I don't have much of a life, much less a sex life.  Besides, I doubt the good doctor would be very much interested in necrophilia."

    Dr. Haversham looked up and blinked at Raven's last comment.  She couldn't help but smile at such dark humor.

Part Seven
More fun stuff with the etherealogists.
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greatshoyru's avatar
you know, i couldn't help but think the exact same thing when she was with evrit