Southern Haunts by Stuart Jaffe

crossed his feet on the table in the only clear spot available. On his lap rested a wireless keyboard that appeared to control everything. He sipped a mug of coffee and nodded at Max.
    “Help yourself,” Jack said, indicating the three coffee makers on the kitchen counter.
    Max grabbed a mug from a hanging rack under the cabinets. “You guys really like coffee.”
    “Only way I’m going to make it through the night, man. Whatever is happening in this house usually likes making itself known after about one in the morning.”
    Libby slid out a chair and sat next to Jack. Behind her, on the floor, Max noticed a pile of pillows and blankets. “Might as well settle in,” she said. “We’ll try to make contact throughout the night, but so far, there’s been no response until after one. That’s when Jack recorded the music you heard.”
    Sandra said, “You don’t call what happened to me this afternoon a response?”
    “I don’t know what that was. But that’s one reason we’ll try throughout the night. It seems you may be able to draw it out earlier. Whatever it is.”
    Max offered a mug to Sandra but she waved it off. She looked uncomfortable — not that Max thought anything at the moment should feel comfortable. “You okay?”
    Sandra trembled out a smile. “Just anxious, I guess.” To Libby, she said, “I want to see the baby’s room, again.”
    Max gestured toward the monitors. “You’ll be able to watch everything that happens to us up there, right?”
    “That’s the idea,” Jack said.
    Sandra placed a hand on Max’s arm, and he knew what she would say. He closed his eyes, hoping he’d be wrong.
    “Hon,” she said, and her tone confirmed his fears. “I don’t want you up there. Libby will come with me.” Before he could utter a protest, she went on, “You can watch me from in here, but I need to focus while I’m in that room. I need to be on my guard in case that attack happens again, and it’ll be harder for me with you there. Part of me will be concerned about you, about your safety. I can’t have my mind split on two different concerns while I’m in that space.”
    With his lips locked tight, Max backed against the counter to allow Libby enough room to pass. Sandra pecked his cheek and the two women left the room. Max plopped in Libby’s chair and set his coffee mug on the table with a loud thunk.
    When the women started on the stairs, Jack said, “Dude, that was cold.”
    “She didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
    “Oh, I know, but still.”
    Max held back his comments. What this man thought of Sandra and their relationship meant nothing. He finally settled on, “I understand her. It’s fine.”
    Jack leaned over the arm of his chair, peeking around the doorway. He zipped back to Max and reached into his coat pocket. Offering a pitiful grin as he pulled out a hip flask, he said in a conspiratorial whisper, “If we’ve got to be stuck down here all night, might as well have a little fun. Am I right?” He tipped the flasks contents into his coffee before holding it above Max’s mug.
    Max placed a hand over the steaming coffee. “No, thanks.”
    “Sure?”
    “I need the coffee to keep awake all night. Booze is only going to make that harder. By the smell of that, it would probably knock me out.”
    Jack chuckled. “It is strong.”
    On the grainy monitors, Max watched as Sandra and Libby approached the baby’s room. They paused at the door before entering. Once inside, they spoke softly for a moment before sitting in the center of the floor.
    Clacking on the keyboard, Jack turned up the volume on the monitors. He then adjusted the mix on the microphones recording in the baby’s room.
    Libby shrugged and in full voice said, “Will the spirit inside this house please make itself known?”
    All remained silent.
    “Spirit of this house, we want to speak with you. We are here to help.”
    Nothing.
    Libby and Sandra leaned back against the crib and waited. Jack sipped from his