Play@YSDC

Massachusetts General Hospital, November 25th 1920

Today the sun is shining for which Norman is glad. He is still recovering from the events of the previous day, and is weak from blood loss, which means he will spend another day in hospital, before going home to rest. Painkillers have faded the pain from his broken arm to a dull ache, but he is stiff from bruising all over his body, and had also dislocated a shoulder. Hopefully though he will recover in time to go on the expedition. The doctor has told him that he will need about six weeks for his arm to heal.

He needs to do a lot of thinking though. He cannot rationally explain what happened at the Corbitt House. Maybe Isadora is onto something with all her talk of spirits…

He wonders if he will see her today?

One thing he always disliked about hospitals, dating from his previous stay--infected tonsils as a boy, was the pervading smell of urine... "Oh, damn it! I need to go now." He said:

"Nurse! nurse! can you help me to the lavatory?"

The duty nurse appraises Norman with a practised eye.

"You can't get out of bed Mr. Owens, doctor's orders. I'll help you with the bedpan".

She proceeds to do so.

He pisses into the pot. "Thank you."

During visiting hours Isadora arrives to the hospital and asks to be shown to Norman's ward.

"Good morning! How are you feeling? she asks her fellow investigator and puts down a paper bag full of produces on his nightstand. "I've brought you Belgian chocolate and some oranges... oh, right... can you peel oranges with your hand broken?"

She sits down next to him, takes out an orange and starts peeling it.

OOC:   How many people are in the ward?

Isadora sits still and silent for a while, the orange peels piling up in her lap.

"What happened in that room?"

"No idea, Ms. Carmichael," he said quickly. "I want to forget about the whole sorry business. I appreciate all this"--popping an orange segment into his mouth--"but most of all I appreciate how you looked after me back there."

"It was the least I could do, Mr. Owens.

I want to forget too... But I just cannot! It keeps coming back, clawing at my mind, eating away my soul. I couldn't sleep all night."

"George wants me to quit the investigation," Isadora says, recapping last night's long conversation with her husband. "He is right, of course, this is all getting too dangerous too quick."

"But I cannot live with the thought of such evil existing in our world!!" she adds, whispering.

"Maybe we can tell Jordan to have the house torn down... But I'm afraid to think what might happen to the workers when they enter that malevolent building!!"

"I'm not a 'Sensitive' like you are, thank God." He whispered: "Why don't we burn it down?"

"The fire might spread," Isadora answers so quickly, that it's obvious that she's been giving this thought as well. "And we might go to jail for arson. Or worse - to a mental institution..." This second perspective is clearly the scarier for her.

"Would it? And we'd ensure not to be caught." He thought: "Why afraid of a mental institution?"

Isadora leans closer to Norman. A few chunks of orange peels fall to the floor.

"Do you... do you think we could carry it out?

"But the evil influence might permeate the soil as well; and whatever they build next on that crooked lot, it will be over the grave of Corbitt."

"If a new building went up on the site, the builder would destroy the old foundations. I think that the night before I go to Canada I should burn the house down. You have no part in this, Isadora," he said almost tenderly; "but if the police start snooping around inform me of this by letter."

Isadora acknowledges Norman's plan with a nod. The less she knows about it, the better... But she still has many doubts.

"I'm afraid dealing with the house on the physical plane is not enough. I will try to find a way to counter this evil on the psychic or astral plane as well."

"What shall we tell to Jordan, though? If we refuse to work for him any more, he will hire other people, who will surely endanger themselves. "

"We'll have to put him off--maybe I could plead for more time due to my hospitalisation?"

"We'll say nothing--appear ignorant of Corbitt and perplexed at what happened to me. Play our cards close to our chests."

"Jordan knows about our inquiries into Corbitt in the archives and libraries (but not the Church!), so I will make up some neutral summary, without the grisly details."

OOC:   I think we are ready to skip to Jordan's visit?

Not long after Isadora and Norman are interrupted by a nurse bringing a very tense and anxious Harry Jordan. He looks shocked to see Norman’s condition.

“Ms. Carmichael. Mr. Owens! Good Lord!”

He pulls up a chair on the opposite side of the bed to Isadora,, and addresses Norman.

“I want you to know that I will be covering your hospital fees. And I will arrange a nurse to look after you when you are discharged. The doctor has informed me as to the extent of your injuries, I took the liberty of saying that you were in my employment.”

He sits back. “I feel dreadful that this happened to you. That blasted house! Ms. Carmichael has filled me in on some of the details – this man Corbitt, the Chapel of Contemplation, but what on earth happened yesterday?”

Isadora remembers, that she reported some results of their archival research to Jordan early on... Let's just hope he doesn't make more connections. Right now he only concentrates on Norman's condition.

"There was an accident. I wasn't in the room when it happened," she says, which is technically true, she wasn't inside the room... "When I got there, Mr. Owens was already on the ground, injured...

Jordan nods his head. “Well, we’ll let Mr. Owens get to that. But please tell me about what you’ve found out about the house. What is the link to this cult you spoke of”?

Isadora understands, that there is no point lying or hiding things. It's better to have Jordan's trust. She decides to give a superficial report.

"Corbitt was mingling with a strange cult called the Chapel of Contemplation. There were talks about kidnappings in connection with this church, and they were raided by the police. We saw no evidence of the cult using Corbitt's house, though... They had a church building in the neighborhood."

"Mr. Jordan, I, have no idea. Maybe a touch of concussion from my fall?"

Jordan frowns. “So Corbitt was mixed up with some strange business, and he was the house’s previous owner”. He casts a dubious glance at Norman. “You have memory loss? The doctor didn't mention it” he says.

He turns back to Isadora. “Did you get any ideas about what the problem with the house is?”

"Nor did I, Mr. Jordan. I just meant that I don't know what happened, that's all."

Jordan's face screws up with angst.

"Two good people were driven insane in that house, and their children will grow up without knowing their parents. I need to know what is going on. Vittorio suffered an accident and then went crazy. Now you fell through an upstairs window Mr. Owens. I refuse to believe that it is a mere coincidence.”

The tension is growing. Isadora feels that Jordan's emotions are genuine, and she thinks that he might not just be chasing after his money in this business. Maybe they weren't right with Norman to treat Jordan as a foe.

"Mr. Jordan," she says, speaking very slow, word by word. "There... there is indeed an uncanny presence in the house. A supernatural force, and malevolent at that."

She turns to Norman: "I'm sorry, Mr. Owens. I think we all have to unite in this battle."

"Our sources point to the fact that Corbitt is buried somewhere under the house, in the basement. This clearly has something to do with his allegiance to the cult."

Jordan stares at Isadora, aghast. “This… this man is buried under the house? All this time? So the Macarios were living above him?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t believe in ghosts or spirits Ms. Carmichael, but I’m not so stupid as to ignore real events. Something is wrong with the house. I fear you two may have found the cause, however impossible it might seem.”

“But at what cost?” He turns back to Norman. “You could have been killed sir! I cannot allow this to continue.”

"We can call it ghosts, or unknown magnetic fields, but something has to be done...

I'm afraid that if a group of workers tries to demolish the house, they will too suffer."

Of course, Isadora doesn't mention that their go-to plan is torching the house.

"Upon out first meeting, I told you that I'm not an exorcist. But now I think I will try to look into this side of the case deeper."

Jordan nods. “Yes, demolishing the house won’t remove the body. If the body really is down there, it will have to come out. I can engage a team of workmen to do this, but after what happened yesterday, I worry for their safety.”

He looks uncomfortable. “I am a catholic, but I’m not particularly spiritual. Do you really think a priest could help?"

"The poor Macarios were very deeply catholic," Isadora says, remembering the room filled with apotropaic paraphernalia. "but their faith wasn't enough, I'm afraid.

When I talk about 'exorcism', I don't necessarily mean the Christian ritual. Although, it too might prove effective? As far as I understand, most priests are not practicing occultists, which is a good thing, they are there to provide psychological, moral support...

But I'm not well versed in these matters. I have to read up on it, visit some more... knowledgeable members of our Society."

Jordan bows his head. "You both have done so much already. I’m very grateful to you. But it just seems so dangerous.”

He raises his chin, a resolute look on his face. "No, I cannot ask you to do any more. And I don’t want to risk anyone else. The house will have to remain empty”.

OOC:   "Apotropaic"--wow, I've never even heard of the word!

Owens kept quiet--he didn't know whether to trust Jordan or not. He wondered silently about Jordan's last comment: "Is he keen to protect the house and... Corbitt? Were Isadora and me some kind of food...!" He spoke:

"I'm ever so tired. Ms. Carmichael, would you fetch the nurse?"

HoneyDog wrote:Jordan bows his head. "You both have done so much already. I’m very grateful to you. But it just seems so dangerous.”

He raises his chin, a resolute look on his face. "No, I cannot ask you to do any more. And I don’t want to risk anyone else. The house will have to remain empty”.

"I cannot sleep well unless I do something about this... But I will stick to research..."

She then stands up and goes out to the corridor to fetch a nurse, leaving Norman and Jordan alone in the room.

Owens leant forward, "I think the woman is right." He stifled a yawn.

“You mean an exorcism is called for? Tell me Mr. Owens, what did you feel in the house?”

"Nothing--I really don't know, understand, or care," answered Owens, and, "No, that we should stick to research. The problem of Copp's Hill is back in your court, Mr. Jordan. Sorry to let you down, sir."

Jordan shifts uncomfortably in his hard wooden chair. “I see.”

When Isadora returns with the nurse Jordan stands. “I must be leaving now” he says. “I want to thank you both sincerely for everything you’ve done. I will be sending a cheque for what you’re owed, plus a hundred dollar bonus each”.

He glances at the nurse but continues anyway. “I’ve decided to stop any further investigations, so please drop the matter. I will keep the house empty and off the market. I don’t want to take any more risks with people’s lives. Good day to you both, and thanks again.”

He turns and leaves the ward.

Isadora says goodbye to Jordan and turns to Norman.

"What shall we do? Or do you want to rest now, and leave this sorry matter for some other day?"

"I do feel exhausted," Owens conceded. "But I felt you were being too open with Mr. Jordan. All of this matter is weird, I don't trust anyone... except you, Ms. Carmichael--I believe in you. No doubt, Mr. Jordan is exactly as he seems, and I'm going loopy," he said grimly.

Owens nodded, and smiled goodbye.

Isadora leaves the hospital and takes a cab home. When it's time to pay, she rumbles through her purse and happens upon a key -- but not to her own home, but to the wretched House on Copp’s Hill Terrace! She wraps her fingers around the cold metal and decides to take it to a locksmith and make a duplicate before returning it to Jordan...