The Return of Dr. Dee

The doorbell rang. Rudy Slatz, proprietor of our favorite watering hole, the Hillside Inn overlooking the town Common, barged into our new home. He was breathing fast and I was concerned for his health. "Your friend's back in town." Rudy said dismally. "The minute he checked in the lobby got drafty."

"Arf Brickwall!" I smiled. "I'd wondered when Washington's esteemed columnist would grace us with a visit."

"He's all yours!" Rudy's hand shook and I sensed it wasn't just from the cold. "You got a guest room here?"

"Not really," I chuckled. "A couch in the sunroom in case someone wants to stay over. Why?"

"I don't want Brickwall and that spook he says travels with him staying at my inn. Every time," Rudy's eyes bulged. "Every time he shows up there's trouble."

"Now wait a minute Rudy, there's lot's of coincidence but no hard proof that Arf was ever in any way responsible for anything that happened when he was a guest at the inn. All he's ever tried to do when he's come to town is unearth the treasure he's convinced Captain Kidd buried on the bottom of Lake Ripple."

"That's ridiculous and you know it."

"Just because he was a guest when they occurred doesn't mean he caused incidents like bursting pipes, banging shutters, or even those empty bottles of Scotch…."

"Four cases of assorted thirty year old single malt!" Rudy shouted. "Every bottle bone dry! Quite a party no one ever got paid for."

"And the they were all sealed." I changed the subject. "I do remember when some of the back roof fell on guests sleeping in that haunted corner room."

"Only happens when Brickwall's around." He blinked and gritted his teeth.

"That's because Bonnie Jean has a connection to some of the ghosts."

"My inn is not haunted." He insisted. "And I thank you to keep that sort of mumble jumble to yourself. It's bad for business if guests hear stuff like that."

"Did he say why he's back?"

"Something about a witch doctor in Boston who'll rematerialize his girlfriend. He made it sound like a walk in the park. Then he says they're off to Scotland for their long awaited honeymoon. He told Doris and now she's a nervous wreck. I tell you he's bonkers."

"You mean someone in Boston can bring ghosts back into their physical bodies! Wow! That's incredible!"

"You believe rubbish like that and I'll sell you a bridge in Brooklyn." He yelled.

The phone rang. It was Rudy's wife, Doris. She sounded as though the world were near its end and she was caught somewhere between a maelstrom and a flood of Biblical proportions. "Wait a minute," I said and I handed the phone to Rudy.

"You better get back here fast!" I heard her shout.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"The bar's flooded. Every keg of that expensive Porter you ordered exploded and now it's a big mess and there's no one here to clean it up but me." She heaved a deep sigh and began to sob.

Rudy clenched his jaw. I feared his blood pressure was sky high. "It's ok, Doris." He placated. "Just stay calm. We've got to be calm. The insurance will cover it. But it's Brickwall's fault isn't it!" His voice rose again. "He was in the bar when it happened, wasn't he?" He pounded his fist. "Call the wholesaler. Tell him it's an emergency. See if you can get immediate delivery for the weekend. But first get Brickwall out of the building. I don't care how you do it. Call the cops and tell them he's a public menace. I'll be right back." He looked at me. "Where's your wife?"

"In Italy visiting her daughter. She always goes this time of year."

"Then it's up to you. Bring him back here or I'll have him arrested. And don't think I won't."

I grabbed my coat and followed Rudy out the door. "Did Arf tell Doris the name of this doctor in Boston?"

Rudy turned and looked at me. "There's one born every minute. Isn't there? Yeah he did. Someone called John Dee. And I don't mean Rockefeller, either"

***

Rudy was furious! He stood by the entrance to the bar and pounded his fist into his palm. His wife Doris shook like a nervous wreck. Arf leaned against the front desk red faced and indignant. "Maybe if you didn't stint on the quality of beer you serve…."

"You want a punch in the nose?" Rudy's hand trembled.

"Let's just go back to my house," I urged tactfully. "You can have the couch." I felt a soft breeze infused with the scent of wild heather and knew from past experience that the spirit of Bonnie Jean was close by. A wisp of wind tickled my ear lobe and made me giggle.

"I'm glad you think this is funny," Rudy looked at me hard. The floor of the bar was a sea of beer and the lobby had begun to smell like a brewery.

"I don't have to stay in some run down dump!" Arf retorted.

"Go!" Doris shouted. His luggage already waited by the front door and without further incident we left.

"Tell me about this Dr. Dee," I said as we walked into the house. "A British historian I'm not but vaguely I remembered the name of the celebrated English astrologer and alchemist who's life dated back to the reign of Queen Mary I in the mid 1500's."

"According to The Inquirer he's the real deal when it comes to ectoplasmic rematerialization." Arf quipped. "It's taken months for me to get this appointment, moon has to be full and all that." He looked around. "Nice place you have here, smaller than that ark you two used to own."

"Thanks," I smiled. "You've spoken with other satisfied customers?"

"Not exactly," he winced. "But according to Dixie, my tarot reader in Dupont Circle, he's highly recommended, especially since he rematerialized Nixon who's now living as a Quaker missionary somewhere in India."

"Arf doesn't this sound just a little far fetched?" I asked tactfully.

"Not if you live in La La Land! Remember we're skeptical Easterners so our perspective on these sorts of magical practices tend to be a little jaundiced. But I trust Dixie when she says he's worth every nickel. And believe me this guy doesn't come cheap. But," he wagged his finger, "once he realized who I was we were able to strike a deal and he assured me a full refund if he couldn't bring her back."

"What happened back there in the bar?"

"I think it might have been her ex; one of the spooks that haunts the inn. He got excited when she returned and," he waved his arms in the air, "the drinks were on the house. But who knows! Could be the beer was too stale and the kegs exploded. It's all a belief, wouldn't you say? Where's your wife?"

"In Italy visiting family. She'll be back next week."

"Then come to Boston with us and meet Doctor Dee. You like to dabble in the paranormal, and I'd appreciate your feedback."

"Sure," I agreed eagerly. "Where's he located?"

Arf reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a hastily drawn map. "Way up on Beacon Hill before the State House. In the basement of an old brownstone on one of those twisted cobblestone lanes. We'll find it. Then down a stone passageway. We'll see an ancient insignia on a wooden door built into an entryway that leads to a tunnel that dates back to the Underground Railroad. It's right in there! We can't miss it."

"And just like that some Time Lord brought him back to 21st Century Boston?"

"I know that to the average person this all sounds pretty far fetched but he's really Dr. John Dee, straight out of not so merry England during the time of the Tudors. And if he made it back, then who's to say he can't rematerialize Bonnie Jean. After all, it's not like I'm asking him to turn lead into gold."

"How'd you manage to get him to guarantee your money back if you aren't completely satisfied?"

"The power of the press," Arf grinned. He stretched out on the couch. "Took a little coaxing but. I assured him that if he could pull this off he could not only be the subject of a best seller but he'd be a regular guest on Oprah as well." ***

Arf was frustrated. At best finding a legal parking space in Boston requires the benign intervention of Divine Providence. Add snowy rain and fog and it becomes absolutely impossible. After close to an hour of searching up and down the narrow byways of Beacon Hill Arf finally maneuvered his rental car into a tight little space just off Charles Street. As we began to climb the Hill the snow thickened; then out of nowhere a strangely dank fog began to envelope us.

Arf waved his gloved hand in the general direction of Louisburg Square. "According to my calculations the good doctor should be just up there. Say, doesn't Kerry live around here?"

"Umph," I responded, feeling a little out of breath. In my heart I feared he'd been taken by some well orchestrated scam. Bonnie Jean's scent of sweet wild heather wafted over me and revived my sense of optimism.

We climbed higher. The fog thickened. Street signs were obscured. Even though I had climbed Beacon Hill many times, I had absolutely no idea where we were headed.

"Should be just over there." Arf waved toward a narrow cobblestone pathway. It seemed to twist between a bevy of small row houses. They appeared older than I remembered, but still vaguely resembled the ones I would walk past on West Cedar Street.

Yet as we climbed further up I began to feel apprehensive. It was as though we had been somehow transported back to a smaller older Boston township. The past was reappearing. Was that the sound of horses' hooves clopping along cobblestone streets? What was that odor? There was a strong stench of refuse and the contents of chamber pots. Looking up I noticed that ancient wrought iron lanterns had replaced the modern streetlights.

"There's the alleyway we want, just like he said. See!" Arf waved excitedly. "Wow! Look at the carving on that old door. Looks like its right out of a museum."

The rounded wooden portal leading into the alley had primitive hand tooled strips of iron nailed upon it. They formed some sort of ancient symbol perhaps intended to protect inhabitants from evil spirits.

Feeling chilled as well as disoriented, I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. "Arf this is all really weird to me. Believe me I know Beacon Hill like the back of my hand but this is very different."

"Probably dressed it all up when Kerry got the nomination. You know made it look real old fashioned so he wouldn't appear so liberal."

"I know this sounds strange Arf but it feels like we're stepping into a time slot somewhere between the present and the old Boston of John Hancock and Paul Revere."

"Just so long as we skip the Tea Party and Bonnie Jean gets transmogrified."

He made it sound as simple as getting a tooth extracted. Again her strong scene of sweet wild heather enveloped me. Arf turned the rounded iron handle and we stepped into semi darkness. Ahead on the right was a small archway that led to stone steps. For a moment I felt as though I were back in India in the darkened basement Tomb Room of the Taj Mahal where years ago an unnerving sense of the living past had brushed up against me. Then we saw a small thatched roofed cottage. The smell of garlic was everywhere.

Arf sniffed. "Someone order a pizza with extra garlic?"

The door was open. Without further ceremony Arf barged in and almost mowed down a short portly gentleman. His skin was deathly pale and quite wrinkled. Dressed in simple britches, a tattered ruffled shirt and wool vest all covered by a long leather apron he greeted us with a quizzical smile. His shiny bald pate was encircled with thickly matted white hair and his bright all knowing eyes peered over the top of thin, metal-rimmed spectacles. He frowned and from his vest slowly pulled out a gold pocket watch.

"You must be old Doc Dee," Arf said irreverently. "Sorry we're late but we had the devil of a time finding a place to park."

***

Doctor Dee squinted at Arf. He frowned, shook his head and paced about, stopping occasionally to stoke the red embers in his fireplace. I was amazed by the incredible contents of his cottage: it was a medieval alchemists laboratory complete with glass bottles and tubes filled with odd specimens and herbal concoctions. Large double terminated elestial quartz crystals lay beside oddly shaped mineral specimens; mysterious roots hung from the ceiling. To the right of the fireplace a large rickety wooden bookshelf housed a multitude of leather hand bound volumes, the spines entitled in Latin. How tempted I was to rummage about those ancient shelves. Dr. Dee gestured to a couple of stools and we sat down on them.

He looked over at Arf. "Well," he asked emphatically. "Where's the cadaver?"

"Wha?" Arf looked confused. "Whadda you mean! I told you she's been dead for hundreds of years. What more do you need?"

"A corpus delicti," he insisted. "Otherwise anyone could seize the advantage and manifest themselves as her."

Arf look confused. "But if she'd already dead what use is her old body?"

"But it's Bonnie Jean's you fool!" He exclaimed. "Don't you see lad without her mortal remains anyone could burst into her ethric circumference.

Arf looked to me for help. "He never said any of this over the phone."

As her name was spoken Bonnie Jean's presence filled the room and the sweet effulgence of wild heather was everywhere.

"Calm down Lassie," Doctor Dee cried out. "Sure as the moon is full in the sky you are here. But I need your cadaver to assure you back into flesh."

"Arf looked at me. "We go to some burial ground and dig up a body?"

"I don't think so Arf."

"How about we pay off an undertaker then?"

"But that wouldn't be her to return!" Dr. Dee cried out emphatically. "It would be whoever's bones you bring in. The only right solution is for you to go to Scotland, if that's where she's buried and dig her up. Bring me back her bones and then we'll have what we need."

"How are we supposed to do that?"

"She'll lead to you to her grave. She wants to reverse it not curse it."

"Sounds like a commercial for some washday detergent," Arf quipped nervously.

"But only on a full moon can you unearth her bones. And I pray you have permission from the local constabulary where she's interred. Otherwise you could have severe issues with the Crown. Grave robbing is a serious offense."

You'll come with me, right, Steve?"

"Hold on Arf! Don't go there! And especially don't plan on my going there with you. Bonnie Jean, please tell us where you're buried?"

No sooner had I asked when a swirl of light brightened the cottage. I noticed that Dr. Dee cocked his head and appeared to be listening. Looking at Arf he said. "She doesn't know. She doesn't even really know she's dead. As far as she's concerned, it's as though she were in a dream. And even though she's invisible to you, you appear real to her. "

"How can people not know if they're dead or for that matter where they're buried," Arf asked belligerently. "I mean dead people have funerals right?"

"Sometimes, but not always." Dr. Dee said. "Suppose she had drowned?"

Perhaps it was the magical influence of Dr. Dee's presence but all of a sudden her image appeared to me almost as clearly as if she were standing before me. She was a magnificently proportioned woman nearly six feet tall with thick red hair that flowed past her waist. Her eyes were a radiant blue green that merged the sky and the sea.

She was barefoot and her sensuous body shown through her loose gauzy draperies. I didn't blame Arf one bit for his total infatuation. What a woman! She was a goddess and instinctively I knew that when prompted this incredible red headed beauty could lead armies as had Queen Guenevire riding to victory alongside Arthur, or even Boadicea, the warrior queen whose chariot flew through dazed Roman legions as she fought for her Celtic homeland. (To Be Continued)

***

"Dr. Dee," I asked. "Is there any way to rematerialize Bonnie Jean without access to her physical remains?"

He looked at me thoughtful and stroked his chin. "Weel lad, you're asking for a lot." He replied slowly. "Reaching deep into eternity that way can be a pricey proposition."

"Money's no object," Arf blurted out. "I've got my American Express Card right here plus Visa Gold or Master Card if that's what it takes." He pulled his wallet from his inside jacket pocket and from it pulled a fistful of plastic. "You'll take these, right Doc?" He gulped at his words. "But here's the thing. We're booked to fly out of Boston tonight for our honeymoon in Scotland. Reservations made months ago. And at this late date airlines won't refund on any cancellations."

Dr. Dee sighed and shook his head. He looked at Arf benignly, walked over to one of his cabinets and pulled out a beaker of crystalline rock salt. He turned toward Arf and politely nodded. "I can't guarantee the results," he said. "What you must understand is that we're dealing with unknown realms here, practices my study of alchemy has yet to comprehend. You must accept this and beware of those consequences that could arise."

Desperately Arf held out his credit cards. "I don't care. You're the only person I know who can help me."

Dr. Dee ignored his outstretched hand. Again he consulted his pocket watch, and then he reached for and opened a very large thick leather bound volume. Its pages were illuminated with raised hand painted letters and gold leaf illustrations appeared at the outset of each paragraph. I noticed that numerous hand drawn astrological charts accompanied the Latin text. I wondered if he used them to help determine his calculations. He closed the volume, let out a sigh and with his left hand threw a small handful of salt up into the air behind him.

"Over here Lassie," he beckoned and I saw her shimmering presence move closer to him. He raised his arms and began to wave his hands as though conducting a cosmic orchestra. "Spread you down upon the hearth," he told her and her radiance flowed to where he had pointed. As her form illuminated the floor by the side of the hearth he poured more salt into his left hand and blew it over her astral form.

"He's doing it," Arf clutched my arm. "He'll bring her back. I know he will and we'll have a real big happy Hollywood ending. Won't we, Steve?" But before I could reply he began to burble. "Then I'll write an incredible best seller about how all this happened." He clutched at his credit cards as though they were rare shamanic talismans.

"Let's hope so." I whispered.

"I'm going to call it Back from the Dead! Can't get more graphic than that: The True Story of The Second Coming of Rob Roy's Third Cousin 0nce Removed." I know it will sell like hotcakes and we'll have book signings in all the posh mortuaries up and down La La Land."

I began to fear he had started to lose it. "Arf maybe it would more polite if we stayed quiet and didn't say anything. Try to just relax and breathe easily! Doctor Dee's doing a very sacred ritual and us talking might really only gum things up."

Dr. Dee squeezed his eyes shut; his face solemn, he looked ancient and wise. "Ahem," he said, clearing his throat. He held up what appeared to be some sort of long handled pointed instrument. "I call upon the powers of the Sea to reconnect form with feelings." He proclaimed as he waved it in the air. As though from far away I heard ocean waves crash against rocks.

Planting one foot firmly on the ground he turned in place several times. Then he looked upward and said. "I call upon the powers of the Wind to blow free the essence from all barriers." Moments later the strong scent of distilled heather filled the room.

He whirled, raised his arms and intoned a lengthy incantation in Latin. Then he whirled even faster and proclaimed "I call upon the powers of the Earth to open its majestic soil that she who was and is now still Bonnie Jean may raise forth from dust and be here now."

***

Dr Dee tossed a handful of salt into the air. "I call upon the powers of Fire to burn away any impurities of matter imposed from those boundaries that separate life as we know it from the vast beyond."

As I stared at the outline of her body on the hearth I seemed to see something more: a milky ectoplasmic form. As I watched, an almost imperceptible pulse began to throb throughout that shape. Slowly this form began to take on the appearance of flesh. Suddenly I heard a scream. Then whatever had begun to appear was vacuumed away into a cloud of murky darkness.

Looking surprised and disappointed Dr. Dee frowned and again consulted his pocket watch. "There's something duplistic afoot, he said. "There is another spirit here with us."

Hearing him say that did Arf no good at all. His face turned bright red. He looked at me like I was some sort of expert in these matters. "What's going on?" he gasped.

Before I could reply sparks leapt from the fireplace. The logs crackled ominously. Black smoke poured into the cottage. "Avaunt!" Dr. Dee cried out. "Be gone evil spirit from the dead." He rushed over to his cabinet and flung open the doors.

The black smoke coalesced into the form of a gaunt, twisted hag, her chin thick and craggy; dark growths covered her nose. She thrust a gnarled fist toward Arf.

A thick Scottish brogue rolled from her, "Steal our wee willed men will she? Drag them from our beds to rumblelow in her dark assignations and vile deceits." She bared her toothless gums and hissed. "Be then our coven's curse remain that she again shall never a mortal form attain."

The smoke grew thicker. The fire spat burning cinders onto the hearth. I began to have trouble breathing.

The hag cackled and gestured toward Arf. "You fool of a man. She'll deceive you too."

Frozen in fear he fell to his knees. "Can we make some kind of a deal?" he pleaded weakly. He clutched so hard at his credit cards I heard them snap.

Reaching into his cupboard Dr. Dee grabbed a beaker of colorless liquid. Pulling out the cork, he splashed the contents over the smoky form. " I say be gone from this place. Be gone never to return here again in this life or any other."

I grabbed Arf's arm and pulled us backwards toward the doorway. "Bonnie Jean!" he cried desperately. "Where are you?"

The hag screamed. Then she dissolved into the smoke. As though drawn by a magnet, it was sucked back up the chimney. The smell of garlic was incredibly strong; my eyes watered from it.

Dr. Dee smiled wryly and nodded his head. "Distilled essence of garlic to dispel evil spirits. Works every time."

Arf appeared to be in the throes of a nervous breakdown. The odor of garlic faded and the scent of wild heather grew stronger.

"Lads, I didna' plan it to end this way." Dr. Dee pulled a small leather pouch out of his britches pocket and held it out to Arf. "Ye've paid me well in good faith, But not until I do as I have promised will you need give this back to me."

Arf stuffed the pouch into his jacket pocket. He looked imploringly at Dr. Dee. "You mean it's always got to be this way? What did I ever do to deserve an invisible girlfriend? It's hard. Everyone thinks I'm crazy when we talk to each other in a restaurant. Now I wave my cell phone but that means eating with only one hand."

"Bring back her bones, and we'll try again, Laddie." As he spoke he seemed to recede into the dimness of his cottage.

We stepped into the street. The last wisps of fog had lifted. The bright light of midday hurt my eyes. The golden dome of Bullfinch's historic statehouse gleamed before us in the sunlight. I turned around and looked back. I couldn't see Dr. Dee's cottage; even the alleyway was gone. The streetlights were as I remembered them. Where had we been?

"What will we do?" Arf asked, wringing his hands.

"Lunch!" I insisted. "I'm starved."

*** The Return of Doctor Dee, Conclusion

We sat down in a booth in a deli on Beacon Street near the State House. Arf was still confused and out of it. "I guess this is the way it's got to be," he groaned. "But to have to go through all eternity without a body just for having a few flings in the Highlands doesn't seem very fair to me."

"I know," I agreed."

"Come to Scotland with me and we'll find her bones and bring them back. You always wanted haggis for breakfast and now's your chance."

"That's kind of you to suggest," I smiled. "But you certainly don't need me along. Once you land in Scotland I'm sure she'll lead you right to her grave, and you'll bring her bones back to Dr. Dee. It's that simple".

The waitress appeared and took our order.

"What was in the pouch he gave you?" I asked Arf.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out the leather drawstring pouch. He opened it and a fistful of gold coins rattled onto the table.

"Wow!" I exclaimed. "I'd be careful with those if I were you. They must be worth a fortune."

"Just don't try feeding one into a parking meter," Arf sighed. "What am I going to do with these anyway? Can't spend them. Here hold onto them for me." He scooped the coins back into the pouch and pushed it at me.

"Do you know Bonnie Jean's last name?"

"MacSomething or other," he tossed it off and sipped at his coffee." Don't think it mattered much back then. But she's the real thing. Blood kin with Burns the poet."

I sensed Bonnie Jean's presence and then I saw her smile. I realized with a jolt that her experience with Dr. Dee had somehow further solidified her essence. She was still mostly invisible but when I concentrated I could see her face very clearly. I smiled back at her. " Hi Bonnie," I said. I heard her laughter and felt a shy tentative hand run through my hair.

"Maybe her invisibility's not so bad. Saves you money on stuff like clothes, food, and airline tickets. You don't even have to pay to take her to the movies."

"You ought to try it sometime," he grimaced. "You have any idea what it's like at a cocktail party? Trying to explain to friends that you have a girlfriend and she's right there only she's invisible? People can be very narrow minded when you start talking like that."

"What do you care what people think! You're famous. Besides, you're lucky! She's a wonderfully loving woman. They're just jealous."

He looked at me hard. "If my senior editor ever hears about her I might be out on my ear."

"You've got something incredible going on in your life. She loves you, eternally. She's here right now. She's your muse and it works! What more could you ask for?'

"A little flesh and bones for openers." He bit into his sandwich. "You know, Steve, sometimes I wonder about you!"

"Go have fun in Scotland! Find her bones and ultimately you'll be the toast of the late night talk show circuit. Look at this from the bright side."

"Have you ever considered therapy?" He shook his head and sighed. "They'd have me committed. The press isn't as free as you think. "

"Arf I'm serious."

"So am I. People can be scared and narrow minded when faced with something that doesn't make any sense to them. You can only push at their minds so far."

"I just hope we make it back to Dr. Dee's. I liked him and I'd like to look more carefully at those ancient leather bindings."

"Maybe." Arf conceded. "Why not! " On his way to the airport he dropped me at the T. As I waited for my train I thought about my adventure and wished Tasha had been there to share it with me. What will happen next, I wondered as the train pulled into the station.