Disclaimers: Melinda Pappas and Janice Covington aren't mine. They're owned by Universal or whomever by now. I'm just playing with them for your entertainment and not for profit. Yes, they're in love with each other, but no graphic sex. The English setting I'm using is not a real town, just an overall impression in my mind as to what part of England might be like since I've never been there (except to watch cricket matches on TV). Time, maybe 1950-ish.
Thanks to Norsebard for beta reading and making a suggestion. Written September-October 2023.
Summary: Mel makes a new friend, much to Janice's chagrim.
“Janice,” Mel stated reasonably and calmly, “It's dark, cold, wet, and we're two hours late. I don't see why we can't go in the mornin' instead.”
“Don't worry, doll,” the petite strawberry blonde archaeologist said. “I called the church warden from the station and told him we'd be very late. He said he'd meet us there. We can't go back tomorrow. We won't have time if we're going to catch our ship back to America. We're on a tight schedule, sweetheart.”
Mel took off her glasses and put the end of the earpiece between her teeth, lost in thought for a moment. She hated to bother the church warden and keep him late, but she didn't know when she and Janice would be back in England, even though the war ended a few years ago and they could travel freely again. The scent of the floral bouquet that Mel held in her arms convinced her to give up her argument. She didn't care to lug around the flowers until tomorrow.
Mel asked about the reason why they were visiting the graveyard. “So, what do you know about Myles Covin'ton?”
“He was my great, great, great –-uh-- I don't know how many 'greats' -–grandfather on Dad's side. He was actually an archaeologist too.”
“Family business?”
“I guess you could say so,” Janice agreed. Then bitterness colored Janice's voice. “He was the original 'Grave Robber' Covington. He was there in the beginning of the 1800s when the British began 'acquiring' Egyptian artifacts, including the Rosetta Stone in 1801.”
“Oh my,” Mel gasped.
“Yeah.” Janice sighed sadly. “With so many generations of 'Grave Robber' Covingtons, I could spend my entire life advancing the field of archaeology by honest means and still not live down the reputation associated with my name.”
“You are nothin' like them!” Mel spat out indignantly. That earned her an arm around her shoulders and a quick squeeze.
“Thanks, Mel,” Janice whispered. “Your opinion is the one that matters most to me.”
Mel turned her head and rewarded Janice with a million-watt smile, the kind that lit up the dark. Janice's heart skipped a beat.
“If he's such an unsavory character, sugar, why do ya want ta visit his grave?”
“Let me ask you a question. If you had the opportunity to visit an ancestor's grave, would you take it, no matter what stories you'd heard about that ancestor?”
“Yes,” Mel answered without pause. “By our personal natures, our job descriptions, and our 'contact' with our ancient ancestors, the past has a stronger hold on us than it does for most folks.”
“Yeah, something like that.” Janice suddenly chortled. “There's something to be said, though, about meeting your relatives when they're six feet under. They can't argue with you at family dinners.”
Mel giggled.
Soon, the Austin Taxi FX3 black cab rolled through the streets of Lower Upton and glided to a stop in front of St. Mary's of the Crossroads church. Janice shouldered her rucksack, took the flowers from Mel, and slid out of the cab. Mel dug around in her purse for the fare and a tip and handed it to the driver. She retrieved her rucksack from the floor.
“'Ere, don't forget your brolly, miss. Rain'll be coming again soon, I'll wager.” The driver pointed at Mel's umbrella, which she grabbed. “Sure you don't want me to wait?”
“No thank ya, sir. We'll be going just up the road.”
“Suit yourself.” With that, the driver left.
Janice nodded toward the church. “Wow! Would you look at that?”
Mel stood speechless in appreciation.
Soft spotlights lit up the church's outside. St. Mary's looked like it was made up of limestone rubble with a tile roof. Rounded arches made up the doors' and windows' shapes. The church itself looked like an elongated cottage with a three-story boxy tower structure in the middle. A neatly-kept churchyard surrounded the church on three sides. Some of the stones were black and green with age and moss and others were rust-colored, while some of the more recent ones were still a light gray. A few benches sat scattered here and there under shade trees, inviting quiet contemplation and rest.
The dark, heavy oak door with the wrought iron hinges creaked open and a man emerged from the church. He was roughly middle-aged, with a trimmed mustache and neatly parted blond hair. In his colored tweed suit, he looked every inch a stereotypical Englishman. Janice and Mel strode up the gravel path to the church.
Janice called out, “You must be Mr. Broomsdale. I'm Dr. Janice Covington and this is Miss Melinda Pappas.” She nodded towards Mel as she formally introduced her.
“Welcome, ladies!” Mr. Broomsdale smiled as he shook their hands.
Janice's eyes appraised the church a little more minutely when she was closer up to it. “You have a lovely church.”
Mr. Broomsdale beamed wider. “Indeed! We're quite proud of it, you know.”
“As well you should be. It's very picturesque, especially lookin' at it from the front sidewalk,” interjected Mel. “When was it built?”
“We think it dates back to 1150. Its core is a prime example of Norman churches in England.”
Janice rushed the proceedings. “So where is Covington Corner, Mr. Broomsdale?”
Mr. Broomsdale smiled at Janice's witticism. He pointed to the northwest corner of the churchyard. “It's over there. It's rather dark now, I'm afraid. Do you need a torch?”
“Nope.” Janice pulled a flashlight out of her pocket.
“We don't want ta keep ya. We'll just be a few minutes,” replied Mel pleasantly.
“Take your time. I still have a little work to finish up inside,” Mr. Broomsdale responded politely. Again, he shook their hands as they thanked him.
When Mr. Broomsdale closed the church's door behind him, Janice turned on her flashlight and held out her arm for Mel to take. Gravel crunched under their feet as Janice guided them to the graveyard's obscured northwestern corner. A little mustiness from all the moss creeped into the air, but Mel also got a pleasant lungful of the dominant aroma of rocks that had been rained on earlier that afternoon. She loved the scent of wet rocks.
Janice squeezed Mel's arm a little tighter against her side. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it tight again. Mel noticed. “What is it, hon?”
“Normally, I'd love to be in a dark, secluded corner with you.”
Mel stifled a laugh when she sensed Janice's worry. “But?”
“But I'm just glad the grass is kept short in this graveyard. You'd think an archaeologist would love graveyards.” She paused. “I actually don't except for ancient burial grounds.”
Mel's eyebrows shot up in surprise, although Janice didn't see it.
“Most of the time, the excitement of discovery and being able to fit another piece into the puzzle of history distracts me enough so that it doesn't bother me. Please don't laugh at this, Mel....” The pleading tone in Janice's voice almost broke Mel's heart. She squeezed Janice's arm lightly, which gave Janice courage to confess, “During quieter times, I wonder if I'm accidentally stepping on someone's grave. I know they're supposed to be beyond caring, but I just don't feel right about it.” Janice was encouraged when Mel didn't laugh.
“You just have a respectful heart and I love ya for it.”
“Thanks, Mel. Anyway, I hate snakes too. I guess my real dislike of graveyards came one sunny morning in a graveyard where the grass was long. I accidentally stepped on a snake. That was one of the most terrifying moments of my life! My legs felt like jelly and it nearly gave me a heart attack! Yeah, graveyards and snakes. I sure got the double whammy that day, sweetheart!”
Janice could feel Mel's body shaking with silent laughter. After a moment, Mel cleared her throat so her voice wouldn't give her hilarity away. “I'm sorry, darlin'. That must've been truly awful.”
“You have NO idea.... Well, here's Myles Covington and his wife, Nora.” Janice shone the flashlight on a stone obelisk that was about three feet high. It was one of the rust-colored markers.
Mel stood back a bit and rummaged through her rucksack for some paper and a piece of charcoal to make a rubbing while Janice laid the flowers on the graves. Janice paused and picked up a red rose from the bouquet. She turned to Mel and presented the flower to her. A beam of moonlight broke through the clouds and lit Janice's eyes so Mel could see the gentleness and love in them.
“Thank you for coming with me,” Janice whispered.
“Anytime, sugar.” Mel wrapped her arms around Janice and pulled her in for a long hug. She rubbed soothing circles on Janice's back. After a minute, they heard a noise close by and Mel felt Janice stiffen.
“Uh, Mel?”
“Yes, Janice?”
“We might have a liiiiiiiiittle problem.”
Mel turned slowly. A black hairy beast the size of a calf blocked their exit. Red eyes glowed and when it opened its mouth, the whole inside of the beast's head lit up with yellow fire. Even its pink tongue had a sheen of blue flame. Its sharp white teeth gleamed in the night. When the beast, with its black German-shepherd-like head, growled, Janice's knees weakened. Still, she resolutely kept on her feet.
“Niiiiice doggie,” Janice tried. The beast didn't move.
Mel shivered. Then she screwed up her courage and pasted a smile on her face. In an overly sweet voice, Mel avowed, “I declare! Y'all must be the cutest li'l dawggie I've ever seen!”
“Scary doggie. Mel, that's a grim!” Janice whispered harshly, referencing the lore surrounding spectral black dogs who guarded a church and its grounds.
“Hush now!” Mel quietly yet sharply interrupted.
Mel addressed the beast again. “I assume I should call y'all Mr. Grim?” The beast tilted his head questioningly. “Or maybe not,” Mel mused. “Ya look more like a Mr. Shadow. Would ya mind awfully if I called ya Mr. Shadow?”
The beast paused while trying the name on, then he gave a single nod when he decided he liked it.
“Thank ya. I'm Mel and this is Janice,” she said, moving Janice slightly behind her. “Mr. Shadow, I assure ya we're not here ta steal anythin' or otherwise disturb the graves of these fine folks. I suppose you're thinkin' it's a strange time of day for callers, but it was the only time we could manage ta come visit Janice's family. We were just leavin' some flowers.” She held up the charcoal and paper. “We were also goin' ta make a rubbin' of the grave.” She assessed his reaction. “On second thought, it might be best ta skip that.”
Again, the beast nodded his head once.
“Okay.” Mel just came out with what was on her mind. “I'd be obliged, sir, if ya wouldn't tear us to shreds and steal our souls.”
The beast lolled his tongue and looked like he was laughing at the suggestion. Mel took it as a sign that he wouldn't harm them.
“Thank ya.”
She took one, two, then three cautious steps forward, still keeping some distance between her and the beast. She held her hand out. Just as tentatively, he came forward to sniff her. She surreptitiously sniffed the air around him and was surprised she didn't smell sulfur. The beast's true nature eluded her. Maybe he was just a grim after all?
The beast still stood sentinel in the pathway and Mel thought quickly about the best way to get him to move.
“Maybe you would like a snack before we go?” Mel dug around slowly in her rucksack and pulled out something wrapped in wax paper. The beast tilted its head questioningly again, ears perked up in interest, his nose patrolling the air for scents, wondering what it could possibly be.
Mel uncovered the snack. “Please sit, Mr. Shadow.” The beast sat. “Do ya like peanut butter and crackers?” Mel tossed one in front of him and he sniffed it. He delicately bit a tiny corner off and tasted it. He decided he liked it and finished it. Then he looked at Mel and begged for another. She tossed it to him. This time, he snatched it out of the air. He munched happily on them until there were two left. Mel noticed he was slobbering heavily and digging around the roof of his mouth with his tongue. She instantly knew what the problem was.
“Peanut butter sticks ta the roof of my mouth, too,” she said sympathetically. Without looking, she held her hand out to the side and Janice quickly placed the canteen in it. “Would ya like some water?”
The beast nodded. Mel stepped closer to him and poured out some in a little stream. The beast lapped at it. Janice and Mel heard a sizzling sound and saw steam curling up from the beast's mouth as the water put out the blue flame.
“Oh, no! I'm sorry,” Mel apologized. “Is your tongue okay?”
The beast nodded. Mel hand fed him the last two peanut butter crackers and gave him the last of the water. The beast sighed happily and rolled onto his back for belly rubs. Mel bent over and accommodated him. She marveled at how hot his body was. She tickled him under his chin, being very careful not to put her hands where any flames were. After a while, she straightened up.
“Y'all are such a good boy! As much as we'd like ta stay with y'all a while, we promised Mr. Broomsdale that we wouldn't keep him long.” The beast's head drooped sadly. Mel continued, “Since we're friends now, I'd like ta give y'all a li'l piece of unsolicited advice.” She got his attention. “If any varmints come around to harm this church or this churchyard, you have my permission to bite them or even char them a little.” Mel paused to snicker, then turned very serious. “But no stealin' souls, okay?” she admonished him. “It's not polite to steal people's souls.” He nodded in solemn agreement.
She carefully broke off the thorns and most of the long stem on the rose and leaned over. She stuck it in the thick black hair that made up the nape of his neck. “There. Now ya look like a real gentleman.”
The beast graciously stepped out of the pathway to let the ladies pass. Mel found herself with Janice's arm snaked around her since Janice was still a bit unsteady from the fright. When Janice heard extra footsteps on the gravel, she realized the beast had fallen in behind them. She didn't comment; she just moved slowly so as not to startle him. The procession reached the edge of the property where Janice was sure the beast would leave them to go back to guarding his church again. When Mel and Janice turned onto the sidewalk, Janice wasn't happy to hear the beast still padding along behind them. Consequently, it was a quiet walk until they turned into the boarding house's driveway. The beast paused just outside the front porch light's yellowish reach.
“Thanks for the escort. Y'all better run home now. The church needs a handsome man like y'all to look after it,” Mel said, still pretending that the beast was just a grim. “May we call again when we come back ta England?”
The beast nodded happily and trotted back down the road. While he was still close, a strange, luminous red mist appeared, spread, and swallowed him up. Then, the mist suddenly vanished like a candle flame being snuffed out.
Mel called after him, “Goodbye, Mr. Shadow. Take care now, y'hear?”
Mel and Janice took their bags to their boarding house room and locked the door behind them.
Janice sat on the edge of the bed and flopped back so she was glaring at the ceiling. She hadn't even bothered taking off her jacket or fedora first.
Mel poured some water from a ewer into a basin and checked the temperature before unbinding her hair. She took off her glasses, chatting while washing up and preparing for bed.
“That sure was somethin'!” Mel began conversationally. “You know, Janice, I don't think Shadow was strictly a church grim. Grims are supposed ta be black dawg spirits that protect a church. Shadow was more... I don't know. He didn't smell like brimstone, but you saw his fire. And the way he walked us home –- hellhounds have been known ta escort women safely where they needed ta go. And that weird mist stuff he vanished into? No, I reckon he musta been a real hellhound or some sort of mix.”
Mel dried herself off and donned a nightie that ended just above her knees. She realized she was practically talking to herself and glanced over at Janice, who was still glaring at the ceiling. Mel stepped over to the bed, pulled Janice up, took Janice's leather jacket and fedora, and set them on a nearby table. Then, she sat next to Janice and pulled her into her lap for a cuddle.
“Tell me,” she quietly requested.
Angrily, Janice ran a hand through her strawberry blonde hair. “I HATE graveyards!” she hissed, not looking Mel in the eyes.
“Well, I know that.” Mel also knew that wasn't all. “Try again.”
Janice gazed at Mel. The gentle blue eyes patiently regarding her dissipated most of her anger. “I should have protected you.”
Mel tucked the blonde head against her shoulder. “It's okay because you're here with me now and we're safe. You can't protect me all the time and I do all right, 'specially with a little help from Xena on occasion. We're partners, Janice, we protect each other. That's how this works. Besides, I felt uniquely qualified ta handle it.”
Janice's curiosity got the best of her. “How so?”
“Pappas men, cousins and all, love huntin' and have always had lots of dawgs around. Some were nice ones and some were the meanest things God ever put on this earth. So I grew up learnin' ta handle all sorts'a dawgs. I have ta admit, though, my trainin' didn't include hellhounds.” Mel fully laughed and Janice snickered.
“And I have to admit that you sure have animal magnetism.” Janice pulled back so she could see Mel. She wiggled her eyebrows at Mel. “I was almost jealous for a while there.”
Mel's eyebrow raised in question. “Really? Of a li'l ol' hellhound?”
“Yes. You were practically fawning all over him.”
“Nonsense!”
“You were,” Janice insisted. “Your accent is much more pronounced when you're really trying to turn on the ol' Southern charm.”
Mel shrugged and ran her index finger slowly down the bridge of Janice's nose. “Be that as it may, there's only one beast that appeals ta me.” She leaned in and gave Janice a soft kiss with a hint of passion.
“While I'm in a mood for admissions, let's also review things that make me weak in the knees.”
“All right. Let's see.... Graveyards, snakes, maybe hellhounds....”
“You're forgetting the number one thing.”
“What's that, darlin'?”
“You.” Janice smiled flirtatiously.
“You are definitely an appealin' beast,” Mel laughed.
Janice looked at her seriously. “And you're the only one who can tame me.”
Mel's heart skipped. She couldn't ignore the irresistible pull she felt when she saw Janice's green eyes, pupils slightly dilated from arousal. She whispered enticingly, “Go get ready for bed. I'm goin' ta need some comp'ny soon.”
“You don't have to tell me twice! I'll meet you back here in --” Janice consulted her watch, “-- three minutes, seventeen seconds. Oh, hey, Mel! It's Halloween and we still have 20 minutes left. Do you think any other dark creatures will come after us?”
“They better not dare! I want some time alone with my favorite beast.”
Highly motivated, Janice quickly stripped and washed. Mel laughed at her as she came back pretending to be a hellhound with claws and growled, then jumped onto the bed and burrowed into Mel's waiting arms.
Mel hugged her close. “Happy Halloween, darlin'.”