Chapter 18 – There Are No Secrets Kept from the Dead!
After
Clara and Jaxon left Larue’s Diner, Rico and Fenton walked eastward. Rico
looked over his shoulder periodically. Fenton didn’t seem to notice. He was
intent on discussing his collection of Spiderman comics. Generally, both
dropped by a local bookstore to pick up the latest issues on the day of the comics arrival, every Saturday. Fenton believed that Rico was headed east for the same reason he
was. It was a ritual they had practiced for years. Rico had another destination in mind for later.
The
comic book and LP record Mecca of Kildeer, Illinois used to be called
Henderson’s Books and Records. The name was changed to attract younger
consumers. In 1972 it was called Ye Olde Double Dragon. The store sold other
things besides comics and records. Fenton and his peers could buy T-shirts,
posters, incense, board games, junk food and magazines at the corner shop.
At
that time, the owners were two aging hippies. Milton and Carlotta Freedman.
Comic book sales had been kind to the couple. Little did any of us know that in
just three years a game called Dungeons and Dragons would boost their sales, and in those years, the board game popularity was followed by the sale of personal
items like dice and miniature figures. In the eighties, video games would make
the little shop even more popular than they had ever dreamed.
Fenton
and Rico turned the corner of Phillips Avenue. “Here we are!” Fenton announced
loud enough to make people in the shop turn their heads and stare. One person
even shushed him. Fenton’s voice became quite loud whenever the topic of comic
books came up.
He
had once acted out in such an embarrassing way that he had been asked to leave. It was
over the return of Doctor Octopus in the Amazing Spiderman issue 113. Fenton
was a huge fan. None of us realized how big a fan he really was until that day.
He lost his mind over that 20-cent issue. In that issue, the villain rips off
Spiderman’s mask.
This
bit of drama, however, hadn’t happened yet. It took place around Halloween in 1972. That day in September, the only reason Rico followed Fenton into Ye Olde Double Dragon that day was
privacy from the thing that was following him, the ghost of James Cody.
Rico
had always been able to see the dead. It ran in his family. Both his cousin Donna
and his Uncle Jerry, who most of our high school friends referred to as ‘Scary
Jerry’, had the ability to both see and communicate with the dead. As Fenton
and Rico entered the shop, the front door brushed against a tiny bell that had
been blessed by Rico’s Uncle Jerry. A similar one existed on the front door of
Larue’s Diner. The ringing of the small bell warded away evil spirits. These
were the only types of ghosts that were prone to linger or follow people
for any long length of time.
The
bell jingled and the ghost of James Cody froze at the doorway, invisible to all
except for Rico Gonzales.
Ye
Olde Double Dragon was a comic book nerd’s dream. Picture a place halfway
between a head shop and a clubhouse for any person that longed to escape into
four-color worlds. Fenton and Rico were hit by the smell of old paper, incense
and the lingering scent of patchouli as they walked in. Crosby, Stills, and Nash were playing on
the store’s sound system.
Posters
were everywhere. Some were official comic promo posters while others were concert
posters from the owner’s earlier days. Thumbtacked notes on a bulletin board
featured lost dogs, guitar amps for sale and garage bands for hire.
“What
brings you fine gentlemen into our little establishment today?” Carlotta
teased. She knew the guys were there for their weekly fix of comic books.”
Carlotta had already pulled Fenton’s monthly issues of The Avengers, Amazing
Spiderman and The Fantastic Four. You seldom get that type of personal service
anywhere. Not even in your favorite bar. Fenton snatched them up greedily and
laid down his money.
“Rico,
your Silver Surfer and Hulk issues are here too.” She looked over at Rico who
stared blankly at the front door.
“Are
you doing okay big guy? You look a little run down.” She said in a motherly
voice. “Let me feel your head.” She came
out from behind the counter and he let her feel his forehead. She also made
some rose hip tea for him and screamed at Melton, who used to be a paramedic in the
Navy, to come downstairs from doing store inventory to look at Rico.
Milton
came bounding down the stairs with a crusty old Navy medical bag. While Rico
sat in one of the stores bentwood rockers and drank tea, Milt took Rico’s pulse, temperature
and blood pressure.
“He’s
got no fever, but there is a nasty virus with gastrointestinal symptoms going around. Probably shouldn’t hang out in public places until it works its way
through your system.” Milt recommended bedrest and a ton of fresh water.
Rico
paid for his comic books and thanked Milton and Carlotta for their concern.
“I’ll use the side door.” he said to them as he waved goodbye to Fenton.
Rico
walked down the street towards his uncle Jerry’s house. The ghost of James Cody
followed. It was nearly sundown when they both got to the residence of Jerry
Gonzales.
Rico
climbed the porch. He knocked on the door and then rang the doorbell. The ghost
of James Cody shivered at the sound of the bell and flickered in and out of sight
for a second, but remained steadfast, standing directly behind him.
Jerry
Gonzales answered dressed in boxer shorts and ratty blue bathrobe. His long gray
mustache drooped to the sides of his face and his shoulder length white hair
was tied with a braided leather cord. The cords were threaded through two gold
coins. The coins had been drilled for the purpose of attaching the leather thong.
He was wearing flip flops and smelled like Jose Cuervo.
“Mira, Jerry! Look at you.” Rico chided his uncle.
“It’s
Saturday night bitch.” Jerry said laughing.
“Barely.
No wonder Aunt Lorraine left you for the weather guy on channel six. Rico shook
his head.
“What’cha
got for me nephew?” Jerry stuck his finger in his ear, moved it around a bit
and then wiped it on his robe.”
“Comic
books…and this.” Rico stepped aside so that Jerry was three feet away from the ghost of James Cody.
“Gah!" Jerry screamed. But then, caught himself and said in an annoyed voice, “Give me some warning before
you do that!”
Rico
snickered. “I thought a Brujo wasn’t afraid of anything.”
“Give
me some prior indication next time…I know, we can have a little sign…like a nod or a wink
or maybe you could put your finger to the side of your nose. Hey, how about
this for a sign.” Then Jerry hit Rico in the back of the head with the palm of
his hand. The ghost of the James Cody flickered slightly as Jerry’s hand passed
through him on its way to smack Rico.
“Ow.
Hey, I’ve got your finger sign, right here.” Rico flipped his uncle off.
“You’ve
got some nerve making fun of what I do on a Saturday night when you’re hanging out
with…is that little Jimmy Cody?” He asked.
“Yes,
and we aren’t hanging out.” Rico snapped back.
“Well,
one of you is. Madre Dios, no one wants to see that on a Saturday night!”
For
the uninitiated…those that have never seen a dead spirit, they aren’t vaporous
phantoms. They look very life-like and manifest completely naked. The ghost of
James Cody stood as naked as the day he was born on Jerry Gonzales porch. The blood from the bullet wound in his
forehead trickled down his chest and stomach onto his genitals.
“What
did you have in mind?” Jerry asked his nephew.
“Well, he
was murdered.” Rico said.
“I
know. I read other things besides comic books. I saw that in the newspaper.” Jerry replied.
“The
whole town is buzzing about him. My friend Clara is curious about the investigation.
I want to have a Q & A. With him. Tonight!
“God!
Come on. It’s Saturday night. I’ve already had a few.”
“Do you
want your comic books or not old man?”
Jerry
went back into the house slamming the door. He appeared a few minutes later
wearing a beat-up cowboy hat, jeans and a T-shirt. He had pulled his bathrobe
back on.
“Hulk
smash!” Jerry muttered. Rico handed him the comics.
“I
need him to tell me why he is following me. I need some answers about his murder.”
Rico looked at Jerry. “I know you can do this. You’re the best in the biz.”
“No
problem nephew. The dead are all around us. There are no secrets kept from the
dead!”
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