(Continued.)
"It's really him!" Katherine yelped. "It's Gabe!"
Martha gasped and cringed into Peter's arms.
Both Byron and Tony stood to get a better look, while Victoria turned her body, and Eleanor turned her chair. Only Alexander remained unaffected, as he merely stayed in his same spot and crossed his arms.
"Gabriel, if you would please step within the circle." Matty motioned the ghost over.
The spirit vanished. For several seconds, everybody wondered where he'd gone off to. Less than a minute later, the palpable ghost reappeared in the wide space between the tables. Although the man's outline was clear, his details were still very vague.
"Shouldn't we be able to see him clearer?" Eleanor asked, as Victoria finally covered up her super-sized boobs and took her seat.
"Gabriel is deliberately keeping himself out of focus." Matty explained. "He seems to be feeling a bit shy at the moment."
"There's no reason for him to be feeling shy." Eleanor stated. "We've done everything under the sun with him. Come on, Gabe! We all want to see you!"
"Is he uncomfortable?" Katherine wondered. "Having all these people around?"
"Let's ask him." Matty suggested. "Everyone, please think of the name Gabriel Hernandez. Imagine this man standing here with us, directly in the center of our circle. He works in the Navy, and he is a garbage collector. He is a young Hispanic man. For those of you who have already had experiences with him, recall those experiences now. Or imagine new experiences that you would like to have, if this young man were here in the present and within your grasp."
A moment later, Byron sniffed at the air. "What is that smell?"
Tony caught the odor, too. It smelled as if the sewage had backed up again.
"It's okay." Katherine declared. "That's Gabe's smell. He always smells that way when he first makes contact with us, or whatever you want to call it."
In the circle, the form of a lean man materialized. He had close-cropped hair in the style of a military man, and he wore a dark blue Dickies shirt and pants. His head was lowered and partially covered by one hand, as if he feared to be recognized. The stench that surrounded him became even stronger.
Alexander covered up a polite cough.
"I had been cleaning up grease traps that day." The ghost admitted, without showing his face. "That's why I smell so bad. That was the day I died."
"Why are you so shy all of a sudden?" Eleanor tried to get a better look at him.
"I... I was never that good looking." Gabe admitted. "And the three of you ladies are so beautiful. That's why I used to stare at you ladies so much back in the apartment. I could never get a woman like any one of you, not in a million years."
Katherine stood up and looked over at Matty. "May I?"
Matty nodded.
"Hold that candle." She directed Eleanor, as she slid the table far enough away to break the circle. Katherine invaded the space and went right up to the young man. "You have nothing to be ashamed of."
Gently, Katherine brought Gabe's hand away from his face. She kissed him, full on the mouth, and holding his face steady as she did so.
"To the showers with him." Victoria demanded, but in a gentle way.
Katherine broke off her kiss. "That's right, you know the routine. You get yourself cleaned up first and then it's party time."
Gabe grinned. "I love having party time with you ladies!"
"Well, we love having party time with you." Katherine gave him one last peck and led him out of the circle. Both Eleanor and Matty returned the table to its former spot.
Eleanor and Victoria were ready to follow Katherine, when Matty halted the trio of adventuresome dames. "I'm sorry, ladies, but you must all stay here. I'll be needing your energies to call forth the rest of our guests."
All three women pouted.
Matty turned toward the members of the hotel staff. "Would one of you be kind enough to escort Gabriel toward a bathroom with a shower? Preferably Byron or Kyu, as neither of you have a vested interest in the proceedings."
"I'll do it." Kyu volunteered, pulling out his room card. "I've been dying to check out the rooms here, anyway. Come on, homie."
The two men quickly left the ballroom.
"It just happened right away." Eleanor remarked. "One minute he wasn't there, and then poof, there he was. And he looked so real, just like any one of us!"
"The sexual tension in the room, the energy of our combined love, this builds up into a very powerful mass," Matty explained. "Once this mass is directed at a specific target, in this case Gabe, the energy resides within him until it dissipates away. This séance will take several hours, by the way."
Eleanor made that sexy growl again.
"Let us call forth our next guest." Matty corralled their concentrations once again. "Her name is Claire Hutchensen. She was a wealthy woman in her early forties who lived here in La Jolla. Peter, do we know anything more about her?"
"She looks a lot like Martha." Peter revealed. "I've seen her picture at the Historical Society, and I could swear that the two women are sisters."
"I do look like her." Martha nodded. "Peter has shown me that picture."
Matty continued to address the group. "Imagine a relative of Martha, standing in the center of our circle."
"Would it help if I dropped my pants?" Peter asked. "That's always drawn her to me in the past."
Eleanor leaned forward with a salacious look on her face. "If you did that, I think it would draw me toward you as well."
"And me!" Victoria giggled.
"Auntie!" Peter yelped, but this only made the portly woman laugh even louder.
Martha burst out in a quick shriek, before bolting up to her feet. "The ghost is near me, I can feel it!"
Sure enough, there was a vague apparition hovering next to her. Everyone saw it.
"I'm afraid!" Martha shuddered.
"Don't be." Peter soothed her arm from his seated position. "Claire means you no harm."
Martha gulped, as the ghost floated around from one side of her body to the other. The ghost vanished, and reappeared in the center of the circle a moment later. A moment after that, she was as tangible as any of them.
Claire had black hair that reached down to her shoulders, styled in a Marcel wave. It reminded the séance participants of Betty Boop, and did wonders for showcasing her piercing black eyes. Claire wore a camel brown camisole with a tiny pink bow next to one of its thin straps, showing off plenty of her sexy shoulders and her legs below the knees.
As they watched, Claire began shuffling back and forth, with her arms either held out at her sides or high in the air, while her legs lashed out in an occasional kick. The group watched her quirky movements with some fascination.
"My dear, whatever are you doing?" Victoria asked.
"It's called the Black Bottom, Jane (1920's slang for female)." Claire replied. "It's like the Charleston. Don't tell me that hoofing (dancing) has gone out of style?" She halted her dance and turned toward Martha. "You are in my bloodline, I'm sure of it." She started snapping her fingers. "Pencil and paper, anyone?"
"Here." Katherine held out her writing materials.
Claire stepped to her table, leaning over to write while she wiggled her butt saucily at the rest of the audience. "Here are the names of some of my relatives. I'm on the up and up with you, Martha. You are in cahoots with the Hutchensens." She straightened up and took in the trio of older hussies. "Three mama bearcats, three hotsy-totsy ripe tomatoes, and you've all got It (sex appeal), and I want It."
"I may turn lesbian after all," Eleanor quipped. "I really like her!"
"I saw her first!" Katherine said.
"What's your story, Claire?" Matty was finding her extremely amusing as well.
Claire shrugged. "I got bumped off by two rag-a-muffin Palookas out to swindle some rubes from me. I'm not your average orchid (expensive item) either, I used to be a moll (gangster's girlfriend), and I gave one the shiv (knife) before the other one finally did me in. But don't let me be a wet blanket, it's the cat's meow (splendid) to be up and about with all you owls (people staying up late)."
"You are entirely not what I expected." Peter said, prompting Claire to step over before him. "You are amazing!"
"I'm not a pill (unlikable), and I'm not a flat tire (dull)." Claire declared. "And you ain't a drugstore cowboy (average guy trying to pick up women), either. This bank's been closed (no kissing) for too long. What say I make like Sheba and you make like Valentino, and we neck like we're hittin' on all sixes (driving on all six cylinders)?"
"I say yes, I think." Peter tried to translate all the jargon.
"We'll even take Dumb Dora here, and try to make a good egg (stylish person) out of her." Claire said to Martha, before she looked around at the others. "Who's up for getting splifficated?"
"What the hell is that?" Byron asked.
Claire threw up her hands. "Canned, corked, tanked, primed, scrooched, jazzed, zozzled, owled, embalmed, potted, fried to the hat? What's the matter, don't you people speak the Queen's English anymore?"
"Well, I do have the keys to the liquor cabinet." Byron reached into his pocket. He pulled out a set of keys, which he jangled in his hand.
"Now you're on the trolley!" Claire vanished. A moment later the no-longer-ghost reappeared by Byron's side. She dragged the assistant manager to his feet. "Let's start lining up dead soldiers (empty beer bottles) all over this gin mill!"
Tony watched as they left the ballroom, before he turned back toward Matty and the rest of the crowd. "Don't we still need Byron to help call the last ghost?"
"Not anymore." Matty smiled. "I've already done this. Claire produced so much sexual tension in this chamber that I was able to channel it toward our mysterious maid all on my own."
Every person in the room started looking about for the woman.
"Well, where is she?" Victoria was the first to ask.
