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31_days2013-11-25 02:38 am
insaneladybug.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2013-11-25 02:38 am
[November 25th] [The Rockford Files-related] Chronicles of a Friendship, 25
Title: Chronicles of a Friendship, scene 25
Day/Theme: November 25th - Hey! Listen!
Series: The Rockford Files (using characters from The Queen of Peru episode)
Character/Pairing: Ginger Townsend, Lou Trevino, mysterious caller
Rating: K+/PG
Part 1 of three parts.
By Lucky_Ladybug
Ginger always hated being woke up in the middle of the night. Usually when it happened, he snapped to with snarling and cursing and frightened anyone in hearing distance (except Lou). He didn’t even keep a telephone in his room for that reason.
When the telephone rang in the hall, however, sometimes it still awakened him. It did so one stormy November night, and he rose from the bed, annoyed and angry. He waited, hoping it would stop, but when it persisted he threw back the covers and stomped into the hall.
“Hello?!” he barked as he lifted the receiver.
“Jennifer,” a mournful voice moaned. “Is Jennifer there?”
Ginger tried to ignore the horrific chill that ran up his spine. “No women live here at all,” he retorted. “Nor are any otherwise staying here.”
“Jennifer,” the voice insisted, as though it hadn’t heard. “Jennifer is there.”
“Are you daft?!” Ginger snapped. “She isn’t!”
“I want to talk to Jennifer.” Without warning, the phone disconnected.
Ginger pulled the receiver away from his ear, staring at it in disbelief.
He looked up at the sound of Lou’s door opening. Lou stood in the doorway, sleepily blinking. “What’s wrong?” he mumbled.
Ginger slammed the receiver down. “Some barmy fool insisting on talking to Jennifer. Probably an overprotective father looking for his daughter.”
Lou started. “Jennifer?” he repeated, bewildered.
Ginger nodded. “Yes.”
“That’s kind of weird,” Lou frowned. “Remember, we found that stuff in the basement about someone named Jennifer.”
“Who died ninety-five years ago and didn’t even live in this house,” Ginger said flatly. He examined the caller I.D. screen, glowering at it as he pressed the buttons.
“What is it?” Lou wondered, coming over to look.
“It didn’t record,” Ginger announced.
Lou stared. “Are you sure?!”
“Yes,” Ginger scowled.
Now Lou felt a chill. “Ginger, you’re really pale,” he said. “You’re spooked too, aren’t you?”
Ginger turned away, not wanting to admit it. “The voice sounded so mournful. It would be difficult not to be at least a little rattled.”
“No kidding.” Lou watched him head for his room. “Are you going to try to sleep again?”
“Aren’t you?” Ginger returned. “It’s far too early to be awake.”
“No arguments there.” Lou jumped as the tree outside scratched at the window. “But I don’t know if I’m going to be able to sleep.”
“Just don’t let your imagination run away with you and you should be fine,” Ginger said.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Lou sighed. He shuffled back to his room, trying not to jump as the antenna groaned on the roof.
****
It was two hours later when the phone rang again. This time Lou was the one who struggled up and out to it, awake and disturbed. The I.D., he noted, wasn’t recording the call.
“Hello?” he said, tense and on edge.
“Where’s Jennifer?” a strange voice moaned. “What happened to her?”
Lou clutched the phone, trying to will himself to stay calm. “Look, what’s your problem?” he demanded. “My buddy already told you she isn’t here. If you don’t stop bothering us, we’re going to call the cops.”
“Jennifer is dead.”
“If you already knew that, why are you calling us?” Lou exclaimed. Behind him he could hear Ginger’s door opening. “Are you dead too?”
The phone disconnected in his ear. Wincing, he pulled the receiver back.
“I don’t suppose you had any better luck,” Ginger said dryly, leaning against the woodwork.
Lou shivered. “Not really. If it wasn’t for the calls not recording, I’d probably think it was a sick prank. But I don’t know how anybody would know about the Jennifer girl whose stuff is in the basement. Everyone’s pretty much forgot about her.”
“Perhaps someone remembers,” Ginger frowned. “And perhaps they have an electronic device to keep their calls from being recorded.”
“Do you think there is such a thing?” Lou wondered.
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Ginger replied. “And I’d certainly rather believe it’s a macabre joke than the afterlife giving us a ring.”
“Good point,” Lou groaned. “Hey, maybe we can call the phone company and see if the calls registered there.”
“Perhaps,” Ginger nodded. “They wouldn’t take kindly to telephone harassment.”
But a visit to the telephone company at a reasonable hour resulted in the information that they also had no record of the calls. As Ginger and Lou left the building, they were more than a little disturbed.
“Maybe it’s like you said and there’s some electronic device blocking everything from recording their calls,” Lou said.
“I haven’t ruled out the possibility,” Ginger said. “Although I thought it would only keep our caller I.D. from recording the information, not the telephone company as well.”
Reaching the car, Lou unlocked the doors and they both got in. “Do you think it has anything to do with us having gone through all that stuff in the basement the other day?” It sounded spooky just saying it, but he had certainly been thinking it, and it wouldn’t surprise him if Ginger was too.
“If it’s a ghostly manifestation, then yes, the adventure in the basement could have triggered it, I suppose.” Ginger leaned back as Lou drove off. “And it would mean that surely there was some purpose to it, something we’re supposed to do to make it stop.”
“And what would that be?” Lou exclaimed. “Get the family better remembered again?”
“I haven’t the vaguest idea.”
Ginger considered the problem for the next several blocks. In the end, it was Lou who spoke next.
“I wonder if we should go through all those other rooms we don’t use. There’s a lot of them even on the floors we’re living on.”
Ginger looked to him. “Such as the back hall on the ground floor?”
“Yeah,” Lou nodded. “I mean, we don’t use the servants’ quarters or the other rooms back there at all. We even keep the door leading out of the kitchen and down that way locked.”
“True,” Ginger acknowledged. “And then there’s the corridor upstairs, right off of your room. We don’t use those rooms, either.”
“How the heck did we end up buying such a huge house, anyway?” Lou wondered. “It’s way too big for just the two of us.”
“Because we could afford it,” Ginger said flatly, watching the scenery fly past the windows. “And because we didn’t want to live in a small shack.”
“And because for some reason, that particular house really caught our eyes,” Lou sighed. “I just hope we don’t end up regretting getting it.”
“Right now, I don’t,” Ginger said. “Let’s investigate the back hall when we get home.”
“Okay. I just hope I remember where I put the key,” Lou said. “Hey, Ginger . . . are we sure our house was built in the 1990s?”
“Well, it certainly wasn’t built a hundred years ago,” Ginger retorted. “It was just designed to look that way somewhat.”
“Yeah, but maybe it was built in the 1950s or 1960s. Something still way back there so it’d have a lot of history with it. That one time we tried looking in the back hall, it looked kind of old and run-down.”
“I suppose even something unused for twenty-odd years could look run-down,” Ginger remarked.
“That’s true,” Lou conceded. “But why wouldn’t it have been used? Didn’t any of the other owners have servants?”
“I believe one had either a maid or an all-purpose housekeeper,” Ginger said. “That was all.”
“Huh. Weird,” Lou mused.
When they arrived home, the button on the answering machine was blinking. Frowning, Ginger went over and pressed it.
“Jennifer, come back to me.”
Ginger looked up at a stunned Lou. “Could a ghost leave a message like that?” Lou gaped. “I thought you usually couldn’t hear them on tapes or see them in pictures.”
“Ghost-hunters seem to generate a great deal of interest by proving when it is possible,” Ginger grunted. “In any case, I would suggest that we don’t waste any time examining those rooms in the house. If there’s anything that can prevent this from continuing to happen, I want to know now, before the bloody thing happens again!”
Lou shuddered. “Same here,” he declared. “Let’s wash up and go at it.”
Day/Theme: November 25th - Hey! Listen!
Series: The Rockford Files (using characters from The Queen of Peru episode)
Character/Pairing: Ginger Townsend, Lou Trevino, mysterious caller
Rating: K+/PG
Part 1 of three parts.
Ginger always hated being woke up in the middle of the night. Usually when it happened, he snapped to with snarling and cursing and frightened anyone in hearing distance (except Lou). He didn’t even keep a telephone in his room for that reason.
When the telephone rang in the hall, however, sometimes it still awakened him. It did so one stormy November night, and he rose from the bed, annoyed and angry. He waited, hoping it would stop, but when it persisted he threw back the covers and stomped into the hall.
“Hello?!” he barked as he lifted the receiver.
“Jennifer,” a mournful voice moaned. “Is Jennifer there?”
Ginger tried to ignore the horrific chill that ran up his spine. “No women live here at all,” he retorted. “Nor are any otherwise staying here.”
“Jennifer,” the voice insisted, as though it hadn’t heard. “Jennifer is there.”
“Are you daft?!” Ginger snapped. “She isn’t!”
“I want to talk to Jennifer.” Without warning, the phone disconnected.
Ginger pulled the receiver away from his ear, staring at it in disbelief.
He looked up at the sound of Lou’s door opening. Lou stood in the doorway, sleepily blinking. “What’s wrong?” he mumbled.
Ginger slammed the receiver down. “Some barmy fool insisting on talking to Jennifer. Probably an overprotective father looking for his daughter.”
Lou started. “Jennifer?” he repeated, bewildered.
Ginger nodded. “Yes.”
“That’s kind of weird,” Lou frowned. “Remember, we found that stuff in the basement about someone named Jennifer.”
“Who died ninety-five years ago and didn’t even live in this house,” Ginger said flatly. He examined the caller I.D. screen, glowering at it as he pressed the buttons.
“What is it?” Lou wondered, coming over to look.
“It didn’t record,” Ginger announced.
Lou stared. “Are you sure?!”
“Yes,” Ginger scowled.
Now Lou felt a chill. “Ginger, you’re really pale,” he said. “You’re spooked too, aren’t you?”
Ginger turned away, not wanting to admit it. “The voice sounded so mournful. It would be difficult not to be at least a little rattled.”
“No kidding.” Lou watched him head for his room. “Are you going to try to sleep again?”
“Aren’t you?” Ginger returned. “It’s far too early to be awake.”
“No arguments there.” Lou jumped as the tree outside scratched at the window. “But I don’t know if I’m going to be able to sleep.”
“Just don’t let your imagination run away with you and you should be fine,” Ginger said.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Lou sighed. He shuffled back to his room, trying not to jump as the antenna groaned on the roof.
It was two hours later when the phone rang again. This time Lou was the one who struggled up and out to it, awake and disturbed. The I.D., he noted, wasn’t recording the call.
“Hello?” he said, tense and on edge.
“Where’s Jennifer?” a strange voice moaned. “What happened to her?”
Lou clutched the phone, trying to will himself to stay calm. “Look, what’s your problem?” he demanded. “My buddy already told you she isn’t here. If you don’t stop bothering us, we’re going to call the cops.”
“Jennifer is dead.”
“If you already knew that, why are you calling us?” Lou exclaimed. Behind him he could hear Ginger’s door opening. “Are you dead too?”
The phone disconnected in his ear. Wincing, he pulled the receiver back.
“I don’t suppose you had any better luck,” Ginger said dryly, leaning against the woodwork.
Lou shivered. “Not really. If it wasn’t for the calls not recording, I’d probably think it was a sick prank. But I don’t know how anybody would know about the Jennifer girl whose stuff is in the basement. Everyone’s pretty much forgot about her.”
“Perhaps someone remembers,” Ginger frowned. “And perhaps they have an electronic device to keep their calls from being recorded.”
“Do you think there is such a thing?” Lou wondered.
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Ginger replied. “And I’d certainly rather believe it’s a macabre joke than the afterlife giving us a ring.”
“Good point,” Lou groaned. “Hey, maybe we can call the phone company and see if the calls registered there.”
“Perhaps,” Ginger nodded. “They wouldn’t take kindly to telephone harassment.”
But a visit to the telephone company at a reasonable hour resulted in the information that they also had no record of the calls. As Ginger and Lou left the building, they were more than a little disturbed.
“Maybe it’s like you said and there’s some electronic device blocking everything from recording their calls,” Lou said.
“I haven’t ruled out the possibility,” Ginger said. “Although I thought it would only keep our caller I.D. from recording the information, not the telephone company as well.”
Reaching the car, Lou unlocked the doors and they both got in. “Do you think it has anything to do with us having gone through all that stuff in the basement the other day?” It sounded spooky just saying it, but he had certainly been thinking it, and it wouldn’t surprise him if Ginger was too.
“If it’s a ghostly manifestation, then yes, the adventure in the basement could have triggered it, I suppose.” Ginger leaned back as Lou drove off. “And it would mean that surely there was some purpose to it, something we’re supposed to do to make it stop.”
“And what would that be?” Lou exclaimed. “Get the family better remembered again?”
“I haven’t the vaguest idea.”
Ginger considered the problem for the next several blocks. In the end, it was Lou who spoke next.
“I wonder if we should go through all those other rooms we don’t use. There’s a lot of them even on the floors we’re living on.”
Ginger looked to him. “Such as the back hall on the ground floor?”
“Yeah,” Lou nodded. “I mean, we don’t use the servants’ quarters or the other rooms back there at all. We even keep the door leading out of the kitchen and down that way locked.”
“True,” Ginger acknowledged. “And then there’s the corridor upstairs, right off of your room. We don’t use those rooms, either.”
“How the heck did we end up buying such a huge house, anyway?” Lou wondered. “It’s way too big for just the two of us.”
“Because we could afford it,” Ginger said flatly, watching the scenery fly past the windows. “And because we didn’t want to live in a small shack.”
“And because for some reason, that particular house really caught our eyes,” Lou sighed. “I just hope we don’t end up regretting getting it.”
“Right now, I don’t,” Ginger said. “Let’s investigate the back hall when we get home.”
“Okay. I just hope I remember where I put the key,” Lou said. “Hey, Ginger . . . are we sure our house was built in the 1990s?”
“Well, it certainly wasn’t built a hundred years ago,” Ginger retorted. “It was just designed to look that way somewhat.”
“Yeah, but maybe it was built in the 1950s or 1960s. Something still way back there so it’d have a lot of history with it. That one time we tried looking in the back hall, it looked kind of old and run-down.”
“I suppose even something unused for twenty-odd years could look run-down,” Ginger remarked.
“That’s true,” Lou conceded. “But why wouldn’t it have been used? Didn’t any of the other owners have servants?”
“I believe one had either a maid or an all-purpose housekeeper,” Ginger said. “That was all.”
“Huh. Weird,” Lou mused.
When they arrived home, the button on the answering machine was blinking. Frowning, Ginger went over and pressed it.
“Jennifer, come back to me.”
Ginger looked up at a stunned Lou. “Could a ghost leave a message like that?” Lou gaped. “I thought you usually couldn’t hear them on tapes or see them in pictures.”
“Ghost-hunters seem to generate a great deal of interest by proving when it is possible,” Ginger grunted. “In any case, I would suggest that we don’t waste any time examining those rooms in the house. If there’s anything that can prevent this from continuing to happen, I want to know now, before the bloody thing happens again!”
Lou shuddered. “Same here,” he declared. “Let’s wash up and go at it.”