Gonna Take A Supernatural Journey, Part Oneish

“Look at this,” Honey Wheeler breathed, lifting the dust-covered book from beneath the old black velvet shawl.

“A book?” Trixie did her best to look interested, but a poker player she was not.

“It’s old, I think,” Honey said as Brian moved to kneel at her side.

“But does that mean it’s worth anything?” Dan asked, not unreasonably. “We are here to find items to sell at the fete on Saturday.”

“Old books can be worth lots of money,” Diana put in, wiping a smear of dust from her brow.

“That’s true,” Mart conceded. “Those who specialise in antiquarian bibliotheque will pay not inconsiderable sums to acquire suitable merchandise.”

Several brows were raised and Trixie fixed a neutral expression to her face. “I’m not saying anything. Not a thing.”

“I don’t think I want to sell it,” Honey said, holding the book close.

“You haven’t even looked at it yet,” Jim observed.

“I just have a feeling.” Honey turned to look at Brian, her hazel eyes imploring. “And I’d like to stop and check this out.”

“That’s good enough for me,” he said.

“If she wanted to walk to Chicago or hack into a government website, that would be good enough for you, too, I imagine.” Mart smiled at his usually sensible brother.

Brian merely shrugged.

“Well, I don’t know,” Dan said slowly. “I for one wouldn’t say no to a snack.”

“I’m feeling kind of hungry, too,” Diana added.

“I hope someone is taking notes.” Mart looked from one BWG to the other. “I am not the one who brought up food.”

“Duly noted,” Jim said with a grin.

“You are also not the one who’s going to say no to food, aren’t you?” Trixie asked sweetly.

“And offend our hostess, Ms. Wheeler?” Mart shook his blonde head. “Perish the thought.”

“Honey, why don’t you take the book over to that big table,” Diana suggested. “Trixie can help me with the food.”

“And I’ll grab the drinks,” Jim offered and grabbed Trixie’s hand instead.

“I’ll stand here and look good,” Dan said.

“Something you were born to do,” Honey smiled at her friend.

“Hey!” Brian protested, though his dark eyes twinkled.

“You could do that, too,” she reassured him. “You are exceptionally good looking.”

“I might just defenestrate myself.” Mart made a face.

“And miss out on the food, I mean book,” Trixie quipped. And they all laughed.

Minutes later the seven were gathered around the old dining table in the Wheeler attic.  A large platter held sandwiches, some egg, some ham, and these were surrounded by small pieces of fried chicken and tiny mini hamburgers.

“Honey, you genius,” Mart cried. “This is great.”

“There’s an aioli to dip the chicken bits in and a chili relish for the burgers. I was experimenting.” Honey said proudly.

“Who knew that cold fried chicken and burgers could taste this good,” Dan said, after sampling one of each.

“And Di made dessert.”

“Which we will eat much later,” that lady said with a knowing smile.

“Come on,” Trixie said impatiently. “I thought you,” she poked her best friend lightly in the arm, “were in a hurry to look at this old book.”

“I know,” Honey laughed. “Just sitting here with all of you and the food, I almost forgot, which is weird.”

Honey rubbed gently at the cover of the book and slowly the etched gold lettering became clear.

Supernatural Reality

“That doesn’t even make any sense. It’s a contradiction.” Brian frowned.

“It’s a play on words, Mr. Logical,” Mart said with a roll of his eyes.

“Can we maybe open the book?” Trixie asked and her blue eyes now showed that familiar spark of curiosity.

Honey nodded and slowly lifted the heavy cover. Seven pairs of eyes, their gazes coming from various directions, fixed on the slightly discoloured cream pages, and then widened at what they saw.

“It’s us,” Diana said, her brow furrowing. “Isn’t it?”

 “Well, sort of…” Mart allowed, his sandy head, bending close to hers. “In another time and place. I mean that’s definitely Honey, for sure. Or maybe her great-grandmother.”

“Can I just point out that genetically speaking, the likelihood of someone else in Honey’s direct line looking that much like her is small. That tends to be a movie TV kind of thing, not an actual life thing,” Brian said, frowning as he studied the image.

“How else do you explain it?” Jim asked.

“Maybe we’re just seeing what we want to see,” Brian surmised.  But the resemblance is startling. Even Honey and her mother don’t look that much alike, not when you really look closely.”

“Something you have definitely done,” Trixie said with a sniff.  “But while that’s helpful information, Doc, I’m guessing the fact that some of the other people in the photographs look like the rest of us suggests a different explanation altogether. Unless you’re suggesting that our families have encountered one another generations ago.”

“Statistically unlikely,” Brian said, while Jim nodded.

“But look at these,” Mart said simply. “I mean that girl looks a lot like my fair Diana, though why she’s hanging around a 20s version of Mangan is anyone’s guess.”

“Maybe they’re photos of our families from years ago,” Honey hazarded, sounding not in the least sure.

“Wouldn’t someone would have mentioned something before now if our families went way back?” Diana asked. “I mean we Lynches and you Beldens have been in Sleepyside, or not too far away, a long while, and even the Fraynes and Vandeheidens have a connection, but Honey and Dan’s families aren’t from around here, are they?”

“I don’t think that’s what we’re dealing with here,” Dan said slowly.

“Well, what are we dealing with then?” Trixie demanded. “Because that person who looks like me, seems to be wearing a maid’s uniform!”

“And very fetching you are, too,” Jim observed with an affectionate if somewhat puzzled grin. “That uniform looks good on you.”

“Very funny, Frayne.  I have done more than enough domestic slaving in this life, without the possibility….” She stabbed one of the photos as she spoke and then jumped back as the images began to move.

Jim’s green eyes widened. “Ahh, guys, this is so not normal.”

All seven Bob-Whites stared in amazement as the sepia photograph took on a life of its own.  The woman they thought of as Honey, tilted her bobbed head as she alighted from the classic car. Maid Trixie moved forward as the man in the chauffeur’s uniform took Honey’s hand and helped her up the steps of the handsome old house.

“It’s Brian!” Diana cried as he turned and they saw his face for the first time. The images froze in place as she spoke. “Did I just imagine that?” she asked.

“If you did, so did I,” Honey said. “But you’re right, that’s Brian, but he isn’t moving anymore.”

“It can’t be,” Brian grabbed the book and flipped the page, his face paling as their gazes fixed on a new series of images.

“Now that is us!” Trixie declared. “Us, us, I mean. It looks like one of the times we were in New York City.”

“That’s not New York City.” Mart said, indicating another picture. “That’s London. At least, I think it is. It doesn’t look exactly like the London we saw.”

“But that is Brian again,” Honey murmured, her gaze focusing on the man in the forefront, though she avoided touching the dark grey photograph.

“Nice suit,” Dan quipped.

“Old suit,” Honey said.

“Old London.” Trixie snapped her fingers.  “That’s why it looks familiar. I’ve seen photos of that place in that history of criminology class we took, Honey. The one that dealt with serial killers. That’s Jack the Ripper’s London.”

“Then what the hell am I doing there?” Brian demanded. “And where are the rest of you?”

“We had the sense to stay away from Ripper territory,” Mart suggested.

“I should think so,” Diana added with a shudder.

“This is crazy, isn’t it?” Jim tightened his hold on Trixie who looked more curious than concerned.

“Are you sure no one put anything in the food?” Dan joked.

“Do you want me to get rid of it?” Honey glanced around the group uncertainly.

“Let’s just check out one more page,” Trixie said. “It’s not so freaky if you don’t touch them.”

“I’m just glad they only move around. It would be terrifying if they talked as well,” Diana observed.

“I still think this is some kind of collective hallucination,” Brian said firmly.

“Or maybe a dream?” Honey offered. “Only which one of us is dreaming?”

“Okay, I’m turning the page now.” Trixie acted as she spoke and slowly the seven heads leaned towards the new photographs.

“Lizzie Borden! Lizzie Borden!” Mart snorted. “I don’t think there’s a mystery as to whose dream this might be: First Jack the Ripper, now, Lizzie Borden.”

“If Trixie’s the one dreaming, why was I in London?” Brian growled.

“Freud might know,” Jim said with a grin for both his girlfriend and best friend.

“Lizzie is fascinating.” Trixie leaned closer, but Jim held her hand back from the image in the book.

“All that blood.” Diana shuddered.

“She was never convicted,” Trixie and Honey chorused.

“Hey,” Dan interjected, “that looks like the two of you.”

“We just said that,” Mart snickered.

“No, that one,” Dan said, his finger landing on the page.

Immediately all eyes fixed on the pale greyish image that shifted and came to life.

Sure enough, two young women in clothing from over a century earlier were standing, heads bent close together, obviously sharing a confidence.

Mart studied the photograph and shook his head.  “You’re right, and, big surprise here, that’s me in the background.”

“Well, I’m with you,” Diana teased. “Are you complaining?”

“Not about that.”

“It is strange though, isn’t it?” Jim frowned. “I mean, what does it mean? And where did these photos come from?”

“Maybe, they’re the answer.” Brian gestured towards another image. A bright, coloured photograph of two women. Beneath it was the inscription.

Dana and Susan.

“They’re so pretty,” Honey said.

“They look switched on to me,” Trixie added. She gingerly lifted a page. “See. There are more photos of them together. Oh, wow, look at that.”

“Trixie camp? What’s the heck is that?” Mart demanded.

“And Jix?” Diana examined another image. “What’s Jix?’

“The delightful Dana and stunning Susan aside, I think we’re getting off track,” Brian said.

“Look, underneath their names.” Jim pointed.

Supernatural Reality: the Twelfth Year

“Twelve years?” Honey’s eyes widened. “There are nine more of these…stories.”

“Nine more,” Trixie echoed, her blue eyes dancing.

“There are a lot more pages in this book,” Dan said slowly.

“And they can wait until another day.” Brian pulled Honey closer. “My heart can’t take much more.”

“I sure would like to meet Dana and Susan one day,” Honey mused. “They look so nice.”

“Nice?” Mart’s sandy brows shot up. “Cute, yeah, but nice? It looks as if they throw us around in time and feed us to killers and crazy people.”

“But in a fun way,” Diana observed with a grin. “And some of the outfits are great.”

Honey nodded. “I might even cut my hair like that.”

All eyes turned to Brian who shrugged his broad shoulders. “She can do whatever she wants to her hair, she’ll still be Honey and completely beautiful.”

Honey beamed at him.

“Well, that Dana is a babe,” Dan announced.

“And, Susan.” Jim grinned appreciatively. “Very nice.”

Trixie tilted her head. “I thought you liked short women.”

“I like smart, feisty, gorgeous women like you and Susan.”

“Hard to argue with that.” Trixie snuggled into his arm.

“We can keep the book, though, can’t we?” Honey asked. “I want more Supernatural Reality.”

“Me, too.” Trixie nodded vigorously.

The others exchanged glances finally settling their gaze on Brian.

“Fine,” he said, holding up his hand in a gesture of surrender. “I get the distinct impression that that one,” he pointed a long finger at Susan, “likes to torture me, but I’ll go along with the rest of you.”

“I think she looks sweet,” Jim said.

“I like the look of them both,” Diana agreed.

“To Susan and Dana.” Dan lifted his soda.

“To Supernatural Reality,” Mart added.

“To Trixie camp,” Honey put in. “I’d love to go to a camp named after Trixie.”

“To Jix, whatever that it is.” Trixie raised her own soda. “If it led to all of this, then I’m all for it.”

AUTHOR’S NOTES: Me, too.  I was so honoured to be included in Vivian’s Admin project, but I couldn’t let it pass without giving a nod to two of the people who make Jix so special to me. Dana, my first friend, long-suffering editor and supporter extraordinaire, and Susan, whose Treasury of Coins, totally floored me when I discovered it over a decade ago.  When I was worried about my website and my first Secret Santa, she stepped in and gave me a stamp of approval and the benefit of her wisdom.  And biggest hugs to Vivian who, in spite of all that extra work, still took time out to edit this piece for me. if there are still errors, they are all mine.

I love these gals and the worlds they have created.  Thanks for everything.

Trixie Belden, et al, belong to Random House and not to me. Supernatural Reality belongs to Dana and Susan, but they love me, so they won't sue. No monetary profits is being made from these scribblings.