Melody Jackson v. The Woman in White It Happened on Lafayette Street (Season One - Book One): It Happened On Lafayette Street, #2

By BMB Johnson

It all began with a blood-curdling scream in the middle of the night. This spurs on an investigation by Melody Jackson and her family which leads all over Portland. Enlisting the help of Lonnie's friends, Chazz and Malika, the group looks to resolve the mystery of not only the woman in white, but of two mysterious men in a van, and the dreaded Bardo!

Melody Jackson is back in an all new series of tales. In this first story, Melody and her family are confronted with some terrible business going on in the weather station across the street.

Note: This begins a new series, which is a prequel to the Novel "Melody Jackson and the House on Lafayette Street". It is a separate series and it's not imperative that they be read prior to the original novel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BMB Johnson
• Release date: Oct 24, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311847522

BMB Johnson

BMB Johnson lives in Portland with a family of humans, too many cats, and just enough Guinea Pigs. Likes the concept of rollerblading but not the practice. Reads comics, plays vintage computer games and new designer board games and is a gigantic slobbery fan of Doctor Who.

Book preview

Melody Jackson v. the Woman in White

It Happened on Lafayette Street

Season One – Episode One

Digital image courtesy of the Getty's Open Content Program

Copyright 2015 BMB Johnson

Published by BMB Johnson in Association with Lafayette Street Books at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Table of Contents

Dedication

About the Series

Acknowledgements

Prelude

Scene One

Scene Two

Scene Three

Scene Four

Scene Five

Scene Six

Scene Seven

Scene Eight

Scene Nine

Scene Ten

Scene Eleven

Scene Twelve

Scene Thirteen

About BMB Johnson

Other books by BMB Johnson

Connect with BMB Johnson

Dedication

For L., for all your love and support

And of course

A. – there couldn’t be a series without you

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About the Series

Dear Readers.

I present to you a brief discussion on the series: It Happened on Lafayette Street. Melody Jackson v. the Woman in White is but the first in a TEN PART SERIES. The series is structured like a television show, in which ‘The Woman in White" is but the first episode of the first ‘Season’. Instead of chapters, breaks are treated as scenes, sequels as episodes, and story arcs as Seasons. That said, there is also a 2nd Season planned (and at least one ‘Spin-off’ series in the works.

So, get yourself a hot beverage, climb into a comfy chair, and get your affairs in order because you are about to embark on a long, spooky journey which will go well beyond the pages of this book.

I hope you enjoy these books. Comments are always welcomed and appreciated. (Contact information located at the back of the book.)

As always, if the Bardo come a’knockin’, hide behind the couch, peek carefully through the curtain and always pretend you’re not home.

BMB Johnson

November 15, 2016

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Acknowledgements

I would like to acknowledge the City of Portland, as well certain locations which appear in this text: The Multnomah County Central Library, the Oregon Historical Society Museum, Al Amir Restaurant, and of course Lafayette Street itself, where my youthful mind spent a good deal of its processing time meandering.

The characters that populate this world are fictitious, within reason.

Not everything is presented as it is or as it was.

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Prelude

The door to the boxlike structure flew open violently. Screams of terror filled the night. These events went unnoticed by the neighborhood save for the ever-vigilant eyes of three little boys who happened to be on patrol. These soldiers, the unheralded protectors of Lafayette Street; the night watchmen in a silent world.

Those in the neighborhood who noticed them called them simply the boys. They had no names, no identities.

Until the events of what had been tagged Operation Spine Shiver, the purview of the boys had been limited to minor infractions: Littering, noise disturbance, cars parked farther away than the regulation two inches from the curb. Such infractions would usually net the offender a small pink ticket noting the transgression and the penalty for repetition (if any). Now, however, they found themselves faced with an anomaly beyond their comprehension.

Plans were discussed, maps drawn out, messages encrypted. A small camera was installed. They waited. Intel indicated the event wouldn’t happen again for another three days. Once they had their confirmation, they would address it with the General.

Scene One

There it sat, a silent sentinel, boxy and unobtrusive -- a great impediment to any further thought of progress.

Melody retrieved the sheet of paper from the old Remington typewriter she had recently acquired from a local thrift shop. She looked the words over closely, batting at her lip thoughtfully with her pencil. She liked what she had written, but it didn't have quite the punch she was looking for.

It needs Zing! she thought. And a tad less of the fuddy-duddy.

Scathing documents to government officials, she decided, should have short, attention-grabbing, sentences. There should be many exclamation points!!! and lists of ideas demarcated by bullets.

She scanned the keys, and shook her head, unable to find one engraved with a centered dot to get the job done. Did people not need their attentions grabbed in the forties? Melody wondered. She sighed, and decided that if it came down to it, she would simply use a black marker and supply the bullets herself.

Satisfied, she reloaded the typing paper, spending more time than she would have liked getting the sheet aligned properly. While she loved old-timey machines and gadgets like this old clunker, she wondered how people kept from losing their minds with some of these manual steps.

Mom, she shouted. Hey Mom! MOM! Momomomom. The request for her mother's presence had become a chant to which she added a beat. By the time Lonnie Jackson arrived at her daughter's room, Melody was dancing to this newly created song, lost in the music.

What is it? Lonnie’s face was red and sweaty, as though she had previously been engaged in something vigorous.

Melody stopped, looked up at her mother, and blinked almost audibly. Huh?

Lonnie said her words slowly, and loudly. Why did you call me?

Oh, Melody said, looking around her room. Sorry. I don't remember now. You should come sooner when I call you.

Lonnie raised one eyebrow, but didn't say anything more. After a moment, she turned around and began down the hallway, her fists balled up at her sides.

Wait, Melody shouted, jumping to her feet. I remember what it was.

Lonnie returned, this time much more slowly. Okay, she said. This better not be some funny trick.

It isn't, she said. I promise. I just wanted to run an idea past you.

Lonnie walked into the center of Melody's bedroom, and sat down on the bed. She ironed out her pants with her hands, and then placed them face down on the bed as if for support.

You do understand that I was down in the basement fixing the dryer.

The Jacksons always had a regrettable relationship with appliances. Clothes dryers, however, historically had been the most unfortunate. The belt in the current incarnation had a tendency to slip off the drum every ten loads or so. The fix was to remove the top, reach into the machine without falling into it and slip the belt back on the track.

Melody nodded. Okay, she said, seemingly not making any connection between that act and her sudden need for her mother to listen to her idea.

My point is, Lonnie said, speaking determinedly. You could have come to me.

Melody continued to stare at her mother blankly.

Because your idea is more portable than the dryer.

Melody placed her hand on top of her mother's. You look tired, mom. You probably needed a break. So, anyway...

Lonnie pulled her hand away. Don't use that pop psychology garbage on me. She placed her own hand on top of her daughter's. Just tell me your idea already. Lonnie leaned back on the bed and settled in. She really did need a break actually, and Melody's bed was soft and inviting. She wondered momentarily what her chances were of convincing her daughter to make one of those fancy drinks with the little umbrellas. She eventually decided this was about as likely as Melody coming downstairs with her idea.

Comfy?