Collinsport Inn

Raymond Murdoch opened the door of his suite and reached down for the morning edition of the Collinsport Star. In the headline he saw a most welcome piece of news: “Barnabas Collins Dies, Collins Family Mourns.”

Reading on with anticipation, he read:

Barnabas Collins, British cousin to the Collins family, died at the old Collins mansion last night after a long bout with a rare blood disease, Mr. William Loomis of Collinsport reported. Mr. Loomis declined to answer further questions, stating that a private memorial service for the family only would be held at the Trask Memorial Chapel on Wednesday afternoon. Barnabas Collins first came to Collinsport 30 years ago and has long been the favorite distant cousin of the Collinwood Collins family and a good friend to the Rose Cottage branch of the family.

Mr. Collins has spent most of his life abroad since returning from England to his ancestral home at the Old Collins House, accompanied by his lifelong friend, Dr. Julia Hoffman. A descendant of the original Collinsport Barnabas Collins, Mr.Collins has followed a string of his namesakes as they have occupied the Old House at various times since the original Barnabas Collins went to England in 1795. It is unknown whether he has other living family, but is survived in Collinsport by only the Collins families of Collinwood and Rose Cottage, who consider him “family” in every sense of the word.

Neither Mrs. Loomis nor Mr. David Collins were available for comment. Dr. Hoffman volunteered that she had been Mr. Collins’ personal physician for many years. The blood disease which claimed his life is rare and required constant attention.

The disposition of the Old Collins House is unknown. It is said that Elizabeth Collins Stoddard, former owner of the upper Collins Estate, gave the Old House to Barnabas Collins in the 1960′s.

Whether it will pass back to the Collins family is unknown at this time.

Mr. Collins will be interred in the Eagle Hill Cemetery alongside his wife, Miranda Collins, who died in England but was buried in the family plot at Eagle Hill earlier this year.
Raymond Murdoch smiled widely and thought to himself, “Thank you, Miranda. Don’t expect any favors for this.”

Returning to his suite, he held up the paper for Laura to see.

“Good news, my dear,” he announced and showed her the headline.

Laura eyed the article with interest and then declared, “Things are looking up, but I’m very suspicious of a trap.”

Murdoch frowned. “I’m ready for them. I imagine they are preparing for us. This will not be easy. I prefer to get it over with now, rather than wait.”

The Old House

Julia slept while the others kept vigil in the Old House cellar where Barnabas had been placed in his coffin. Irwin Trask, who owned the local funeral home, had been asked to pick up the body the morning of the funeral. He had strenuously protested about how little time that left him to prepare the body.

The sunrise did not awaken Julia, yet her sleep was fitfully unsound. She did not know what would happen now and was plagued by dreams of Barnabas as he was when she first met him, callous, selfish, and merciless. She felt his iron grip on her throat as she had more than once before they became friends. It frightened her to think of him awakening from his current sleep to that old horrible state.

Past her usual time of arising, she flip-flopped in her bed, groaning here and there and occasionally uttering, “No!”

At around 10:00AM, she was awakened by a soft tapping on her door. She called out, “Who is it?”

Maggie’s feminine and light voice called back, “It’s Maggie, Julia. Professor Stokes is downstairs and would like to talk to you. I told him you might be asleep. Shall I ask him to come back later?”

“No, Maggie. I’ll see him. Will you make him comfortable while I dress?”

Julia dressed quickly and came down the stairs to meet her old, dear friend.

“My dear,” Stokes said, as he took Julia’s hand, “I’m very sorry to hear about the passing of our good friend, Barnabas.”

“Thank you, Eliot. I appreciate you coming,” Julia answered.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.

Julia pondered and then said, “Do you remember several weeks ago that I said I had Barnabas’ permission to share some things about him that you’ve probably been wondering about?”

“Yes, I do. I apologize for not coming ’round earlier to talk, but if you’d like to talk about it now, I’m willing to listen.”

“Thank you, again, Eliot. Yes, I think now is the time.”

Julia began at the beginning, told Professor Stokes of Barnabas’ early life as a mortal, about his affair with Angelique and brief engagement to Josette DuPres. She recounted the evil deeds which led to his marriage to Angelique and of the vampire curse. She told him of how she and Barnabas met and of the adventures they had together.

Professor Stokes took in all the information, smiling widely at his friend throughout the story, and occasionally took her hand and patted it with his.

She portrayed for him the recent events and brought the Professor into the present dilemma.

When she finished her long story, her old friend was silent. She had felt his support coming through in his body language and countenance, but he spoke not a word.

“Aren’t you going to say something, Eliot?” Julia asked.

The old retiree answered, “Well, Julia, that certainly explains a lot. How hard it must’ve been for you all those years, being in love with Barnabas and him not being in love with you.”

Julia was surprised. “But Eliot, I’m not in love with Barnabas. I haven’t been for a long time.”

Eliot smiled, “It was always plain to me that you were, which is why I never told you that I had feelings for you that went beyond mere fondness.”

Again Julia raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Eliot! I never realized.”

“Of course you didn’t, Julia. You only could see Barnabas.”

Julia was silent, pensive for several minutes.

“Perhaps,” Professor Stokes said, “this is not a good time to be talking about this.”

“No, it’s fine, Eliot. I’m glad we’re finally being plain. You see, Eliot, I’ve always been very fond of you too. My interest in Barnabas was definitely a blinder for me, but it has not been a romantic interest with much of a future for a very long time.”

“It almost seems foolish, Julia, for an ancient old relic like myself to be speaking of love, especially when you have so much on your mind. Does it offend you?”

This time Julia took Eliot’s weathered hand in hers. “Eliot, I need to hear that right now. I have decided that when this current crisis is over, if Barnabas returns to us at all, that I will leave him in the care of Maggie Haskell and finally, in the sunset of my own life, go off to find myself.”

“And in this journey of self-discovery, would you be interested in the companionship of an antiquated old bookworm that hasn’t got the slightest idea how to be a mate to a woman?”

“Are you asking me to marry you, Eliot?” Julia said with awe.

“I think I am, Julia,” Eliot said with equal astonishment.

“Yes, Eliot,” Julia answered. “For whatever time we have remaining, yes!”

He raised her age-spotted hand to his dried lips and kissed it fervently. “Thank you, Julia. I’m at a loss for what to do next.”

Julia smiled. “Eliot, I don’t know either, but perhaps I should focus on my current problems.”

“You should know, my dear, that Sheriff Drew suspects that a vampire is at work in Collinwood and that Barnabas is her victim.”

“I wondered about that,” Julia said, standing.

“I promised him I would come and assess the situation. What shall I tell him?” Professor Stokes asked.

“I don’t know, Eliot,” Julia replied. “I hesitate to ask you to lie, but this is extremely important.”

“I will tell him, then, that he has nothing to worry about from any vampires,” Eliot said. “I don’t think I will be lying, do you?”

“I hope not,” Julia said. “I sincerely hope not.”

Collinwood

Carolyn sat in the drawing room and sobbed. Ever since Willie had broken the news to her about Barnabas’ death, she had been an emotional wreck. She thought it odd, sometimes, how attached she felt to such a distant cousin who had spent so much of his time away from Collinsport, but something about the old gent had always intrigued her.

The recent strange events had also unnerved her. To think that she was the descendant of some supernatural being called a “phoenix” was a very difficult idea for her to get used to. Even worse was the fear she had that she was going to die.

Weeks before, she had been visited repeatedly by a strange spirit and she was honored to have been entrusted with the means of saving young Stephen and Katy Collins. She was rather excited back then to have been visited by a ghost from the Collins past.

But now, here, feeling the danger closing in around her, the shock of Barnabas Collins’ demise made death seem like all too familiar a visitor. Willie was gone helping Julia make arrangements.

“Poor Willie,” she thought. “He loved Barnabas so much. He must be devastated.”

She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief just as her younger cousin, David, entered the room.

“Carolyn,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing, David,” she answered.”I’m just a little upset about Cousin Barnabas. Aren’t you?”

David seemed puzzled or at least distant, then said, “Oh, of course. I will miss him terribly.”

Hallie Stokes Collins, David’s wife, entered also and went immediately to the wet bar. To Carolyn she said, as she poured herself a drink, “I was very sorry to hear about Cousin Barnabas, Carolyn. He was the nicest person in the entire family, don’t you think?”

Carolyn agreed with some annoyance. “Yes, Hallie, by far.”

Hallie turned around and faced her husband and his cousin.

“I have another piece of news that I think is ill-timed, but I think you’ll both want to know about it,” Hallie said.

“Oh?” David asked. “What is it?”

“Well,” Hallie said. “I just got off the phone with my Uncle Eliot. He’s getting married.”

Carolyn’s eyes grew big in astonishment. “At his age?” she asked.

Hallie laughed. “Yes, and I think it’s rather sweet. I know he doesn’t mean any disrespect, getting engaged on the very morning that Cousin Barnabas died.”

“How could that be disrespectful?” Carolyn asked. “He didn’t know.”

“Oh,” Hallie disagreed, “but he did know. In fact, it’s very closely connected to Cousin Barnabas’ death. You see, the bride-to-be is our own Dr. Hoffman!”

Carolyn gasped. “I don’t believe it! Julia said ‘yes’ to a marriage proposal with Barnabas not even in the grave?”

Hallie said with some sarcasm, “Well, at their age, I guess they figured they shouldn’t waste any time.”

“That’s rather boorish, Hallie,” Carolyn accused. “I’m sure Julia had her reasons.”

“You seem put out about it, Carolyn,” David observed.

Carolyn answered, “I’m not put out about it, David. I just don’t understand how Julia can think about marriage so soon after Barnabas’ death.”

“Well,” Hallie said, “I know that Uncle Eliot has always been very fond of Julia, but she was so devoted to Barnabas he didn’t really think he had much of a chance with her. I know Julia has always been very close to Uncle Eliot too. She must’ve thought it was time.”

Hallie poured two other drinks and insisted that Carolyn and David drink a toast to Professor Stokes and Dr. Hoffman. David excused himself immediately after, saying he had an appointment with his grandfather.

As he left the house, Hallie called out to him, “Don’t be long! The children are coming home this evening!”

Carolyn picked up a book and started to read while Hallie leafed through magazines. They were both startled to hear a male voice standing at the door.

It was Roger Collins, standing on his own two feet, saying, “I just found out about Cousin Barnabas. Doesn’t anyone think to tell me anything anymore?!”

Carolyn stood quickly and ran over to him. “Uncle Roger, you’re standing! What happened?”

Roger looked surprised. “Well, I don’t know. For some reason, I just woke up this morning and felt good for the first time in months. I didn’t even think about calling for my nurse and wheelchair. I just got out of bed and came down here. I walked right past the ever-present Miss Sally West, who was dozing in a chair.”

Carolyn took him by the arm and said solicitously, “Now, Uncle Roger, you still must take it easy. Come sit down.”

“Nonsense, Kitten,” he said to her. “I plan on going out on the grounds for a walk. I feel marvelous.”

“Hallie,” Carolyn said, “Would you please call Dr. Hoffman and ask her to come right over?”

To Roger she said, “If Dr. Hoffman approves it, I won’t say another word, but until then, Uncle Roger, you sit right here and behave yourself.”

She plunked him down on the divan near the fireplace and sat next to him.

“All right, Kitten,” he said to Carolyn, “but I’m fine. I feel wonderful!”

They sat there together for a long time, talking lightheartedly about many things. Carolyn was astounded by his good humor, much more like his old self. Before long, Julia entered the drawing room with her medical bag.

“Well, Roger,” Dr. Hoffman said, “Looks like a miraculous recovery, but I want to check you over before we get too optimistic.”

“As you wish, Julia,” Roger said gleefully, “but I assure you I’m fine.”

“Good, Roger,” Julia said. “How about if you go into the study and get ready and I’ll be right in.”

“Certainly,” Roger said and he walked out of the drawing room.

When he was gone, Carolyn said, “What is going on, Julia?”

Julia furrowed her brow and said, “It stands to reason that Roger’s long illness would end today.”

“Why?” Carolyn asked.

“Because if he was too sick to attend Barnabas’ funeral…”

Carolyn thought a moment and then realized the horrible truth. “…then he wouldn’t be there when…”

“Exactly, Carolyn!”

“Then this illness that has kept Uncle Roger sick for so long was the handiwork of Laura and Raymond Murdoch?”

“I’m sure of it, Carolyn,” Julia said, “and I both hope and fear that this is further evidence that they plan to make their move tomorrow at the funeral to destroy the entire Collinwood branch of the family.”

“I’m frightened, Julia,” Carolyn said.

“I am too, Carolyn, but we’ll be ready for them. I promise you that.”

Rose Cottage

Eleanor slept fitfully. So much had happened and she was so exhausted. The day was well-advanced by the time she got out of bed.

She dressed slowly, then called Carolyn Loomis up at Collinwood and expressed how sorry she was that Cousin Barnabas had passed away. Carolyn told her about Roger’s recovery and what Julia thought it meant.

“Are you as frightened as I am?” Eleanor asked Carolyn.

Carolyn replied, “I sure am.”

“I wish I had told my children to stay away for a few days,” Eleanor said sadly.

“You could have, Eleanor,” Carolyn said. “I’d understand. The Murdochs aren’t interested in them. Just in David’s children. No need to place them in unnecessary danger.”

Eleanor sighed. “Thanks, Carolyn, but we’re in this together. I’m really trusting that Professor Broman and Mrs. Rice know what to do. I’ll be terrified right up until it’s over, but we’ve got to go through with this for everyone’s sake. Professor Broman feels that if too many of us bow out of going to the funeral, the Murdochs will be suspicious.”

“Have you heard from the Murdochs?” Carolyn asked.

“No,” Eleanor answered, “and I hope I don’t. We’ve invited family only, and even though Laura bears the Collins name, I hope she understands she’s not welcome at this funeral.”

Collinsport Station

The train arrived at Collinsport Station, on time as always, and carrying five members of the Collins clan: Burke, Harrison, and Sarah Collins, children of David and Hallie; and Aaron and Melissa Collins, Eleanor’s children. They had all agreed to meet in Bangor at the same time to catch the train and ride back together. The Collins youths of both families were predisposed to spend a lot of time with each other in the summer, mostly because the three from Collinwood preferred to spend time with Aaron and Melissa at Rose Cottage than with their moody father at Collinwood. Burke and Melissa were on-and-off romantically interested in each other and both families encouraged it, but overall the five of them were fairly good friends, old family rivalries notwithstanding.

While they waited for Harry Johnson to arrive, he not being nearly as punctual as the train from Bangor, Aaron said, “I understand from Mother that we’re all going to be attending a funeral tomorrow.”

Burke said, “Yes, I heard. Creepy old Cousin Barnabas died.”

Sarah said indignantly, “Burke! That’s not nice. Mother says he’s the nicest Collins around.”

“Well, that’s not hard for Mother to say,” Harrison advised. “Other than us, she doesn’t like any other Collins.”

“Especially Father,” Burke said. “But then I don’t like him much either.”

Aaron whispered to his sister, Melissa, “It’s going to be a long summer.”

Finally, Harry Johnson arrived in a nice new minivan and loaded up the baggage while the youths took various places in the minivan. Soon, they were on their way, stopping first at Rose Cottage to drop off Melissa and Aaron and then on up to Collinwood.

Reunions at both homes were happy. David had not returned from visiting Raymond Murdoch at the Blue Whale when his children arrived home, but he came later and officiously greeted them, much as his father would have done when he was young.

Roger fawned over each one of his three grandchildren, despite their maturity, and David scowled at how the old man had changed since David was a boy. He made no comment about his father’s recovery, either. Hallie thought it strange, but figured he was just being difficult, as usual.

Trask Memorial Chapel

Irwin Trask, the village’s mortician, was more like an old-fashioned undertaker than a modern mortician, but Collinsport seemed to call for someone of his temperament rather than his more businesslike colleagues in Bangor.

Irwin thought it most irregular that the family had requested none of his usual services. He was to prepare his chapel for the funeral, but was assured by Mr. Loomis that the family would take care of the deceased until the time of the funeral. There was no viewing or even touching up the body with make-up. All was secretive and the casket had remained closed from the moment Mr. Loomis and a large black fellow with an English accent had delivered it.

Flowers arrived and he saw to having them arranged throughout the chapel. Whenever a Collins died, virtually everyone in town sent flowers. He scowled at the thought. Irwin Trask had no affection for the town’s main family, even though his own great uncle, Gregory Trask, had once lived up at Collinwood and had been married to Judith Collins.

The family had arranged with him to have the use of the chapel for the entire day on Wednesday, from 4:00AM on. They had also peculiarly asked him to stay out of their way while they made funeral preparations. An out-of-town minister had been engaged to conduct the memorial service and Trask had been asked to not be present. He was offended by the suggestion, but the handsome offer of compensatory money was enough for him to acquiesce to the typically strange Collins behavior.

He was going to lock the front door of the chapel and go to bed when someone entered. He could not see in the darkness who it was and called out, “Who is there?”

An old gentleman in a dark suit came forward with a young woman next to him, dressed in black.

“Mr. Trask,” the man said, “I am Raymond Murdoch, and this is my granddaughter, Laura Murdoch Collins.”

The old man emphasized “Collins” enough for Trask to understand that this was a member of the Collins family. “We are going out of town this evening and wanted to pay our last respects to Mr. Collins.”

“I’m sorry,” Trask said, “but Mr. Loomis specifically instructed me that there was to be no viewing and that no one was to be admitted until tomorrow.”

“I understand,” Murdoch said. “Perhaps you could find it in your heart to allow my granddaughter to say ‘goodbye’ to her dear old relation.”

As Murdoch spoke, he reached in his suit coat pocket and produced a fifty-dollar bill, which he handed to the old mortician. It pleased Irwin to be bribed like this, pleased him to see some evidence of a rift among the Collins families, and to see them act so covertly. It confirmed for him his disdain for the grand old family.

“Of course,” he said as he took the cash and excused himself to the back of the room where he turned on the main lights to the chapel.

The odd pair went forward to where the coffin lay, surrounded by beautiful floral arrangements. Trask tried to watch, but they only seemed to stand at the coffin, the woman dabbing her eyes with a white handkerchief.

He wasn’t sure, but it seemed to Trask that the lid of the casket opened slightly enough for some thin object to be passed inside and then closed.

The man and woman eventually left by the same way they came and Trask locked the door behind them.

He turned out the lights, leaving a small spotlight on the lonely coffin at the front of the chapel. His curiosity was piqued and he moved forward to where the box lay.

Moving flowers aside, he lifted the upper part of the two-part coffin lid and looked beside the body of the old Collins corpse. There was an old piece of cloth inside and several symbols on it, Egyptian hieroglyphics as far as Trask could tell.

With disgust, he put the strange item into the pocket of the deceased man’s coat, closed the lid, and replaced the flowers.

“These Collins people are the devil’s own, that’s for certain!” he muttered and retired to his apartment in the back of the building.

Outside, through a window, peered a wickedly smiling Raymond Murdoch, who whispered, “Thank you, Mr. Trask. I knew I could count on you.”

Collinwood Cottage

A small group had gathered at the small cottage on the Collinwood estate. In addition to the cottage’s two occupants, the Bromans, there was Julia Hoffman, Quentin Collins, Joe and Maggie Haskell, Chris Jennings, Mrs. Miriam Rice, Willie Loomis, and Hiro Ryokuma.

Clive Broman was obviously in charge of the meeting and gave directions.

“Does everyone have their medallion?” the professor asked.

Everyone nodded.

“Dr. Hoffman, Dr. Haskell, and Hiro will go to the Trask chapel tonight and stay with Barnabas. Hiro will watch from the outside,” Clive instructed.

Hiro bowed and the other two nodded.

“Mrs. Rice and my wife will stay in Rose Cottage tonight to guard from the inside,” he announced next.

“Mr. Haskell and I will patrol the grounds at Rose Cottage,” Clive said, to which Joe nodded his head.

“Finally, Mr. Jennings and Quentin Collins will patrol the grounds at Collinwood while Mr. Loomis will see to the safety of the family inside. Any questions about our duties tonight?”

“What are we lookin’ for?” Willie asked.

“Inside Collinwood, you are looking for any strange behavior from any blood descendant of Edward and Laura Collins, including Hanscomb the butler, but more particularly from David Collins.”

Willie commented, “You mean stranger than usual. Should I try t’ keep them in the house?”

“No,” the professor said. “But if David tries to leave, notify Quentin immediately and Quentin will try to follow.”

Broman counseled, “Those of us patrolling outside will probably not encounter any problems. Do not challenge either Murdoch directly. Instead, stay out of sight and call Mrs. Rice, who will coordinate with me. Quentin has provided an operative to follow the Murdochs if they leave the Inn through the door and report to him regarding their movements. He says they haven’t come past him this evening, but we know that doesn’t mean they haven’t been out.”

The professor opened a trunk and produced three bows and a handful of arrows. The bows were beautifully carved and painted, though they seemed ancient.

Professor Broman reviewed, “When Mr. Ryokuma delivers our doctors to the chapel tonight, he will place these in the prearranged places for tomorrow’s services. Those of you I have chosen to wield them will be instructed in their use. At the first sign of fire of any kind, get an arrow ready. If Laura Murdoch appears, shoot her through the heart. There will come a time in her ceremony when her children will be mesmerized by her and she will call them to gather around her to protect her. Do not take any chances hitting any of them.”

To Willie, he said, “You will be responsible for your wife. Keep her from joining Laura at all costs. Do you understand?”

Willie nodded.

“I will have a talk with Eleanor Collins tonight. She will do everything she can to keep Damien next to her. Damien is Laura’s highest priority. David is next. My wife and Mrs. Rice will stand guard with Mrs. Collins over Damien. Quentin will concentrate on David. Drs. Hoffman and Haskell will stay close to Barnabas’ casket. These weapons,” he said, holding the bows and arrows up, “will be manned by Mr. Ryokuma, Mr. Haskell, and Mr. Jennings.”

“How will we keep the rest of them from going to her?” Maggie asked.

“I’m afraid there will not be enough of us. The Murdochs have already worked hard on Damien and David. Those two are the most likely to be affected by Laura’s summoning and they may help her to convince the others. When a fire begins somewhere, there will be an initial panic. It will be important at this stage for her to create an illusion that where she stands will be the safest place in the fire. I have no doubt that they will make it impossible for anyone to leave. This will likely be the old man’s task in their strategy. He is immensely powerful and will probably not actually be inside the chapel. After the doors and windows are tried, Laura will convice people to gather near her. She must be destroyed before that happens. When she gets her children close enough to her, she will then have her best opportunity at controlling them by psychic means. She will be hoping to take them all with her, but realistically will settle for any number with Damien being her minimum requirement.”

Julia interrupted. “Professor Broman, I really think Maggie, Hiro, and I should be going now. It is past dusk and there is a possiblity that Barnabas…”

“I understand,” Professor Broman said quickly. “Yes, go.”

The three left the cottage and Professor Broman continued his instructions to the rest. After he had told them everything he could think of to protect them all, the entire group dispersed to their various assignments to wait out the night.

Broman was certain that the night would bring very little noticeable mischief from the Murdochs. They would, instead, be clandestinely making preparations, just as he had. He was right. The night passed without incident or reports from the others in his alliance.

Julia had spent the night in the chapel, disappointed, yet partially relieved, that Barnabas had not arisen from his coffin.

When dawn arrived, preparations began for the funeral service for Barnabas.

The Temple of Benu

Laura Murdoch Collins and her accomplice and master, the demon Ra, also known as Raymond Murdoch, entered the Temple of Benu through her mystical portal. They were not dressed in modern garb, but in ceremonial robes of an Egyptian style.

A tight white wrap-around garment covered Laura’s shapely body, making it difficult to walk more than short steps. Silver-colored sandals adorned her feet. She wore a tall white crown that rounded to a knob at the top. Two large red feathers were attached to the crown at the base and rose upward to the top. This was the atef crown of Osiris, which the Benu bird, or phoenix, was permitted to wear in honor of Benu’s ability to die and be reborn.

Raymond wore a headdress that resembled a hawk. In one hand he held a large ankh scepter. He was regaled in rich ornaments and silk. The beak came down between his eyes.

A white marble altar was in the center of the temple and Ramaphos the god-pretender lifted his disciple, the phoenix, onto the altar and helped her lay out flat on her back. He took the small ben-ben and placed it on her chest.

He raised a staff with his right hand and began to chant, “Ubenek em Benben,” and the entire temple court soon filled with flames all around them. Neither of them flinched at the flames and he continued to chant.

As the fever of his cry ascended to the rafters of the temple, the flames increased in heat and fury. Finally, with a horrible cry, he dropped both hands. The flames around him disappeared. He looked down at the altar.

No longer did Laura the phoenix rest there. She had disappeared, and in her place on the altar lay the gentlemanly-dressed body of Barnabas Collins.

Ramaphos exited the temple the way he had entered, leaving Barnabas’ body on the altar.

Trask Memorial Chapel

Alex Collins, an accomplished organist, played a solemn and sad hymn as his family and relations from Collinwood gathered in the Trask Memorial Chapel. Reverend Wittingdon from Bangor stood at the pulpit above the coffin wherein lay a distant relative Alex had barely known. He was pleased to perform this service for the family. He enjoyed playing the organ and was grateful his mother had insisted on him learning.

Julia Hoffman was escorted by her old friend and now-fiance’, Professor T. Eliot Stokes. Hiro Ryokuma, Barnabas’ loyal friend and bodyguard, took his place in the rear-left of the chapel, wearing a white carnation as if he were an usher.

The front row, nearest the casket, was filled with the Loomises and Collinwood Collinses. Behind the Loomises sat Julia and Eliot. Quentin was next to them, directly behind David. Amy and her two children sat next to Quentin, then Damien and Eleanor. Eleanor’s children sat on her right, and finally Trina.

On the third row were Maggie, the Bromans, and Mrs. Rice, seated directly behind Eleanor and Damien. Sabrina sat next to Mrs. Rice.

The fourth row held the Collinwood staff, the Johnsons and Hanscomb the butler.

Chris Jennings and Joe Haskell also acted as ushers and stayed near their appointed posts.

Reverend Wittingdon did his best to conduct a service for a man he never had met. Julia had written out some notes for him, but had declined to deliver any eulogy.

Stephen and Katy Collins fidgeted, but so did many others. There was an air of nervousness and tension in the room uncharacteristic of any funeral Reverend Wittingdon had ever conducted.

Most nervous and tense of all was Ramona Broman. From the moment the minister had begun to speak, she felt alarmed at something. Finally, when she could no longer refrain, she leaned into her husband’s ear and whispered, “She is here and he is outside.”

“Are you certain?” he whispered back.

She was both annoyed and frightened that he questioned her. His question indicated that something was happening that he did not expect and that made her very nervous.

Instinctively, she opened her purse which sat on the floor in front of her pew. She reached inside and removed her ben-ben, the large conical object she had inherited from her ancestors. It glowed a white glow.

“Very certain,” she said, showing the thing to her husband.

Swiftly, Clive Broman turned around and stared right at Hiro Ryokuma and nodded his head. Like lightning, Hiro reached under a pew near the rear of the chapel and settled an arrow into the bow he found there.

Chris and Joe, seeing Professor Broman’s nod, did the same. Reverend Wittingdon, from his pulpit, cried out, “What is the meaning of this?” when he saw what the three men were doing.

Professor Broman stood and said, “Nothing to worry about, Reverend Wittingdon. It is a tribute Mr. Ryokuma has planned for his employer. Nothing is wrong. Please continue.”

Eleanor turned around and looked at Professor Broman pleadingly. He motioned to her to turn around and be alert. Eleanor put her arm around young Damien and pulled him closer to her.

“I don’t see her, my dear,” Broman said to Ramona. “Where could she be?”

“I’m frightened,” Ramona replied to her husband. “What shall I do?”

“Concentrate on the ben-ben,” he counseled. “You’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

Just then, the podium where the minister stood burst into flames. The old gentleman stumbled backwards away from it and fell into his chair, hitting his head against the wall. He was out cold.

The women screamed and people began to rush for the doors. The three sentinels at the back of the room stepped out of their way and looked all around them for any sign of the phoenix appearing.

The doors held tight, as Professor Broman had predicted. Alex, who had joined the congregation after the minister had begun to speak, looked around vainly for something to throw against the high chapel windows. Quentin was at David’s side as David stood in silent confusion near the front of the chapel, down by the coffin. Julia and Maggie stood near the coffin also, while Eliot begged Julia to come with him.

Eleanor had just sat where she was, her arms tight around Damien who sat calmly next to her. Amy was at the back doors with the children huddled next to her, pounding on it with Trina and Eleanor’s children.

Roger Collins had fallen in the aisle and was being helped to his feet by Sabrina Jennings.

The fire was spreading to the entire stand above the coffin. Chris, Joe, and Hiro searched wildly for a glimpse of the phoenix, but she didn’t seem to be there.

Ramona had fallen into a trance as her ben-ben turned brilliant in her hands. Clive stood on their pew and was also searching eagerly for Laura Murdoch Collins.

“Where is she?” he cried out.

The fire that had begun at the podium had caught on the drapes on the side walls of the chapel and was spreading to the back of the room. Naturally, people were backing away from every place the flames sprung up.

David called out, “Everyone to the center of the room.”

“No!” Quentin contradicted. “That way!”

He was pointing to a doorway on the front left corner of the room, leading to some other part of the building. As soon as he had spoken the words, flames shot out from the doorway and people were suddenly listening to David. The smoke that began to fill the room was suffocating.

Damien had become irrational and wrestled himself away from Eleanor and had run up to join David.

The boy went right to the coffin where Barnabas Collins was supposed to repose and lifted the lid. In a white dress and adorned with the atef crown, there emerged from the coffin his mother, Laura Murdoch Collins.

Everyone in the room stopped and stared at her. David instantly placed himself directly in front of her so that the three bowmen couldn’t get a clear shot at her. Clive Broman climbed quickly over the pews to get at her but a spout of flames shot up in front of him and sent him reeling backwards. He fell between two pews behind his wife.

Laura began to call out into the room, “Come here, everyone. I can save you. There is a way out over here.”

David took up the call with her and others followed. Quentin tried to grab Laura, but she backhanded him and sent him flying across the chapel against the far wall.

Julia and Maggie fled away from the coffin while Eleanor ran down after Damien. David helped Laura out onto the floor in front of the coffin while she continued to call to her children.

Willie had a firm grip on Carolyn who was hysterically crying for him to let her go down to Laura. Roger was unable to walk after having been nearly trampled by his family when they first sought to escape. He wanted to go and was pleading with Sabrina to help him.

David’s children had joined him, though Melissa called out to Burke in a frenzy to stay near the doors. Trina placed herself on a rear pew, huddled in fetal position and cried.

Hanscomb, the butler, was also up front near the coffin now and many Collins family members had formed a circle around Laura Murdoch Collins. Glassy-eyed, they seemed to be unmoved by the frantic screaming and pleas of the others to come away from the center of the room. The flames had crawled along the ceiling and that area seemed to be most in danger of crashing down on people.

Ramona was in a trance, held immobile by the pulsating ben-ben she held in front of her on her lap. She felt she had to say something, but the words did not come to her mind. She strained and groaned until “Damien!” escaped her lips.

The boy had climbed on top of the coffin and was dancing around above the others. When Ramona shouted his name he stopped and looked right at her. The vacant expression on his face changed suddenly. His wits were returning and his eyes fixed right on Ramona’s. Ramona saw a flickering light inside his eyes and he saw the same in hers.

With a voice louder than his own, he shouted down at Laura, “Mother! No! Only me!”

Laura turned and looked up at him and was surprised at what she was hearing.

“Let them go, Mother! You can ONLY have me!” he shouted at her.

“No, Damien!” she shouted back. “They are all coming with us!”

He raised his small arms in the air and brought them down with a snap to his sides. As he did this, all of those gathered around the coffin where he stood seemed to become aware again of their surroundings. They ran panicked to the back of the room.

Only David and Damien remained with Laura.

David took Laura by the hand and said, “Mother, I didn’t go with you the last time. I’m going with you this time.”

Laura reached to his face and caressed his cheek. “Yes, David, you’re coming with us.”

From underneath David, strong arms lifted him off the floor and whisked him away. It was Clive Broman, who had crawled under the pews and waited for a moment when Laura was distracted to rescue David Collins.

“No!” David screamed. “Mother! Don’t leave me again! Mother!”

Now it was only Laura and Damien, standing surrounded by flames leaping up on all sides. Eleanor stood just outside the circle of flames, pleading with Damien.

Ramona stood on the bench where she had been sitting and turned to face the back of the chapel. She cried out a command in Ethiopian and the two doors on the left and right of the building burst suddenly open. Most of the trapped people poured out.

“Damien!” Ramona called. “You don’t have to go with her!”

Eleanor called out to him too. “Please, Damien! Don’t leave me! I need you!”

Damien was sobbing now. “But I need my mother, Auntie El! I want my mother!”

Clive had turned David over to Quentin, who held him fast. Clive rushed to go back into the chapel but was stopped just inside by Raymond Murdoch. The old man, with surprising agility, dealt a heavy blow with his fist to Clive Broman’s jaw, which sent the latter hard against the wall. The two ancient ones began to fight.

Eleanor cried again, “Damien! Please!”

“I want my mother!” he replied.

“I’m here, Damien!” came a woman’s voice from the back of the room, but it was not Eleanor’s.

Eleanor and Ramona turned to look. Amy had run back into the chapel and was coming down to the ring of fire.

“I’m here, Damien!” she called. Her voice was not urgent or panicked, just pleading and comforting. “I’m your mother now,” she besought him. “Won’t you let me show you how good a mother I can be?”

Damien was being held tightly by Laura, who looked at Amy with an evil, fiery glare. Amy looked away in fear but then returned the glare and shouted, “Let him go!”

Laura only laughed.

“I am not going with you, Laura Murdoch Collins Died-By-Fire,” Damien said and pushed his mother’s face away.

She screamed, “Ramophos!”

Damien dropped to the ground just as Raymond Murdoch turned to look. Amy dove through the flames and grabbed her new son, Damien. She held him close and ran quickly over the burning floorboards to the aisle. She stumbled and fell. Eleanor and Ramona helped her up and the four of them tried to exit the building.

Now, besides Laura, only Clive Broman and Raymond Murdoch remained. Murdoch was running along one of the pews trying to catch up with the women who were rescuing Damien. As he reached out desperately to catch them, he was grabbed from behind by his old enemy. Clive Broman picked him up and threw him into the center of the ring of fire just as a shower of burning wood crashed down upon the coffin. The Murdochs were gone, consumed in the pyre of their own making.

Sirens roared outside and Ramona immediately returned for her husband, whom she helped to leave the inferno.

Outside, a drunken Irwin Trask, returning from a visit to the Blue Whale, became hysterical at the sight of his burning livelihood. Members of the Collins family restrained him from going in after the firefighters while he cursed the Collins name.

Eleanor sat on the ground next to Amy and Damien and asked, “Amy, how did you know to come back in?”

Amy shook her head. Mrs. Rice came to me and told me I was the only one who could save Damien. She made me believe it. She said I had to search my heart and find out if I loved the boy and then go in and save him. She made me believe it.”

Julia desperately searched for Professor Broman. “Where is Barnabas?” she pleaded. “How did Laura get inside his coffin? He was there at dawn when I looked in on him. Where is he?!”

Professor Broman hung his head wearily. “He is wherever they left him, Julia. That’s all I know.”