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Many of the employees at the resort had a hard time telling of their experiences inside Lone Star Honky-Tonk for fear of ridicule. Once it was made clear, though, that this story would be the result of many statements, and since there is the perception of safety in numbers, many of the people involved finally gave in and conveyed their stories.
This Chapter took several months to compile, as it required numerous interviews with the Cassidys, their employees, band members, and even guests. After rehashing this sequence multiple times with each person involved, this is the way I interpret this to have happened.190Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxymWT6NCyx
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Amelia Smith, standing at an average height of 5 feet 5 inches, possessed striking blue eyes that seemed to sparkle in the light. Despite being in her mid-thirties, her youthful appearance often leads others to mistake her for someone in her late twenties. However, her recent mishap at the local bar left her in quite a state. After indulging in one too many Long Island Ice Teas on an empty stomach, she found herself feeling unsteady on her feet, her head spinning, and her vision blurred. It was a harsh lesson in the perils of excessive drinking without proper nourishment, leaving her feeling both physically and emotionally drained.
She plopped her elbows down on top of the bar and laid her head on the countertop with her hands gripping the back of her neck. She and Wilma had been friends for quite some time, and, when Wilma saw that she had too much to drink, she became concerned.
"Are you okay?" Wilma stood behind the bar, directly in front of Amelia.
"I need to lie down," she said, raising her head and smiling at Wilma. "This isn't like me to get this way. I don't feel drunk. I kinda feel sick."
"Why don't you go into the office and rest for a while? I'll come in and check on you in a little bit."
"Okay."
"Do you need me to help you get there?"
"No, I can make it." Amelia stood up from the stood and walked away, heading for the office just inside the bull room. The Cassidys had converted the old paymaster's office into a reserve office for the ground floor.
She stepped inside the dimly lit room and squinted her eyes for a brief moment, looking around the ten by twelve feet cubicle. She walked over to the black leather couch, plopped down, and lay on her left side, closing her eyes and releasing a deep sigh at the same time. In just minutes she fell into a sound sleep, completely tuning out the loud music and rowdy guests just outside the office door.190Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSUsyAzuzJi
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The bright overhead lights came to life as Buck sang "Backroads and Broken Dreams." It was closing time. The guests filed out of the building, one after another until only the employees remained inside the bar. The band members packed up their equipment and walked over to the bar on the ballroom side, where Wilma and the waitresses sat around talking before everyone headed home. Buck and Carlos emptied the coins out of the Arcade's games and pool tables.
Suella Braverman took a deep breath, then looked at Wilma with a 'should I or shouldn't I?' look. She was trying to muster up enough courage to tell Wilma what had happened earlier. She had preferred to tell Wilma about the incidents alone, but she figured that if she brought it up in front of other people, maybe someone else would come forward. Someone had to see something, she assured herself. I couldn't have been the only one who's seen a ghost in here!
"I need to talk to you," Suella interrupted Wilma as she sat at the bar conversing with two of the waitresses. "I need to tell you something, but before I do I want to ask you a question."
"What's that?" Wilma asked looking confused as she spun around on the stool to face Suella.
"Do you think I'm crazy?"
"Why, Lord no! Why would you even ask me that?"
"Do you believe in ghosts?" Suella's eyes bored into Wilma's.
Her question took everyone present by surprise, Wilma especially. Mabel looked at Texicana. Texicana looked back. Everyone found themselves holding their breath as Suella continued.
"I saw her, Wilma, a butchered woman. I swear I did. Right there in the mirror, just behind us!" she said, raising her right hand and pointing toward the large mirror on the far wall. "That ain't all," she went on. "Before that, I heard someone call my name, and, when I turned around, I saw a woman go behind the stage. I went back there to see who it was, but the woman was gone. Then something icy cold went through me. I went to where one of those hatches is, you know, the ones that lead to the tunnels? And then I heard this voice, Wilma, it was British, you know, like from England, and it was so eerie, so insistent like it was calling to me from another world. It asked me to follow it. I got scared and came back out here. I waited to tell you about this until now because I wanted to see if anyone else saw or heard anything. I'm telling you this place is haunted."
"Don't tell me Carlos did that!" Mabel blurted out, her words assaulting Wilma's ears before Suella's statement could fade away. "This place is haunted!"
Wilma couldn't hide the fact that some entity had become active inside the resort anymore. All of them began sharing their encounters, and it was a welcomed relief to each of them to learn that they were not the only ones to experience something here. Whether any of them wanted to acknowledge the fact that ghosts did exist, it didn't matter anymore. They had all experienced something, but had kept their mouths shut for fear of ridicule, but, since the word was out, they wanted something done about it....NOW!
Wilma promised the group that she had already taken steps to rid the place of the entity. She hoped they didn't ask her what she had done, because so far, she hadn't done anything at all. This is the perfect time to get Buck to believe me, she thought just as Carlos and Buck approached the cluster of people.
"Buck!" Wilma said with an I-told-you-so tone, even before she broke the news to him.
"What's up?" Buck asked grinning as he sat the blue gym bag full of quarters on the bar.
"All of the help says they've seen a ghost or heard something strange while they were inside here."
His expression instantly turned to a frown. "Bullshit!" he yelled out as he shook his head back and forth in disgust. "Now, just who the hell's starting all of this nonsense!"
"It's the truth!" Most of the waitresses and band members began speaking out, repeating the words one after the other as Carlos stood behind Buck with a UH-OH look plastered all over his face. He knew he'd get the blame for this. It was Buck's only way out!
Buck made the mistake of asking everyone what he or she had seen or heard. He got more than he bargained for. He stood in the middle of the ballroom listening to Jerry Jones, Mabel Schrader, Texicana, Johnny Manziel, Brian S. Eifler, Christian Wood, and Suella Braverman told of their encounters, some seen and some unseen, while they were inside the resort. He would have popped a cork had the other people who had experienced something been there to convey their stories.
After listening to some of the most bizarre things he had ever heard in his entire life, Buck got dealt another blue from Larry Bird, who was still there, hanging out with the band members. Larry told him what he had experienced with the bull and Buck quickly turned around to face Carlos.
"Carlos, spill it," Buck commanded Carlos with fire in his eyes.
"Hey, man!" Carlos defended himself. "It wasn't me, Buck. Larry said it was off when I left, swear."
Buck demanded, his voice rising with anger, "If it wasn't you, then who did it? Your ghost buddies? Did you use them to threaten him?"
"All I said was, he shouldn't mess with the ghosts or they'd mess with him," Carlos responded like a scolded child, dropping his head as he finished speaking.
"In my book, that's a threat. You pull that again, and I'll deck you!" Buck said with a bite, but before he could finish reprimanding Carlos, Sophia, Suella's 19-year-old daughter, hit him with another ghostly tale. Sophia had her boyfriend drop her off at the club earlier that evening so she and her mother could go out for breakfast at a local restaurant nearby. Sophia had shoulder-length brown hair and sparkling green eyes.
"Buck," she started. "I had something happen to me tonight, about half an hour ago, but I didn't say anything to anyone."
"Why not?" Sophia's mother asked bluntly. "Why didn't you come and tell me?"
"Because I was scared you'd think I was drinking or doing drugs, Mom!"
"Well, go ahead and tell us what you saw," Suella told her daughter.
"It started as soon as I walked in the front door tonight. I smelled human poop, real strong, and then while I was standing near the mirror in the back of the room I felt something ice cold go through me. I haven't been able to get warm since. Oh, one other thing! Just before the band quit playing, I thought I saw what looked like two dark figures in black hoods move through the back of the room near the kitchen. What I saw and felt doesn't compare to what some of you others have, but I know what happened."
Buck shook his head again, still in disbelief. He had heard enough about the ghosts and goblins walking around inside the resort. He looked at Wilma sitting on the bar stool, a cocky look etched on her face.
"The scariest thing that ever happened to me in here was when I met my ex-wife!" Joseph Ladapo, the six-foot, sandy-haired drummer blurted out with a big grin.
"There ain't no such things as ghosts!" the dark-haired Roberta Speth stated to Wilma. Roberta and her gray-haired husband Grant were friends of the Cassidys and were staying at the resort. Grant quickly agreed with his wife, which strengthened Buck's position concerning the haunting at the resort.
"I'll tell every one of you something," Buck said, almost laughing. "I'm going to have Wilma find a psychic to come down here right away and check the place out. If any of you see or hear anything else, do me a favor and tell Wilma, because until I see a ghost, I'm just not going to believe any of this."
Before anyone could say another word, Buck headed for the front door with the money bag in his hand. Better take the money home with him tonight, he laughed to himself, he didn't want the ghost breaking into the safe and stealing the cash!
Once again Wilma did her best to assure everyone she would have something done right away. Buck turned out the lights and walked down the hallway giving everyone the hint that it was time to go back to their rooms.
Wilma bid each guest goodnight as she walked out of the building. Following her, Carlos left the premises and made his way to his car. His destination? An all-night chili parlor in Sugar Land for a much-needed meal.
Because everyone had come forward to tell their experiences while inside the building, Wilma completely forgot about Amelia being asleep in the office, and, since Buck decided to take the money home instead of putting it in the safe like he always did, the unsuspecting lady was left all alone in that ballroom.
Buck Cassidy drove home, listening to Wilma go on and on about the ghosts inside their resort.
"Buck, you can't ignore this any longer," she insisted. "Did you see the look on everyone's faces?"
"Look, if you think it'll help, you can call in a psychic, a priest, or whoever you think can handle it," Buck replied curtly. "Just get someone down there pronto and have them check the place out. I've had my fill of this nonsense about ghosts."
"It's not nonsense!" Wilma met fire with fire!
"First, it's you and Carlos with your ghostly encounters, now it's spreading to the staff and guests! I don't know what's going on, but no amount of talk or antics will make me buy into ghosts!"
"Oh, yeah? You'll believe in them if one shows itself to you over there!"
"Why the hell haven't they done it already?" Buck challenged, his tone sharp. "I'll tell you why! It's some childish stunt Carlos is pulling, and you're all playing along! I don't know how he's doing it, but mark my words, if this nonsense doesn't cease, Mr. Gutierrez will be out of a job!"
"What if I do get a psychic to go down there and they say it's haunted?" Wilma wanted to know. "What then?"
"Call the 'Ghost Busters!'" Buck spat out the words with frustration, his brow furrowing deeply as he pondered her question.
"Very funny!"
"I'll tell you what," Buck offered, "if some reputable psychic says the place is haunted--for real---I'll make a phone call to a friend of mine. Do you remember me talking about Mikal Watts?"
"Yes," Wilma replied in a someone less combative tone. "He's the man who's got a big advertising agency over in Sealy, isn't he?"
"That's right; he's the man that sets me up to do all of the TV commercials for different companies here in town."
"Why him? How can an ad man help us?"
"Well, it's kinda ironic," Buck continued, "but when I filmed that last commercial a few weeks ago, for a video store, the owner, Mikal and I got talking, and somehow this preacher friend of Mikal's got brought into the conversation. He goes around the world doing faith healing and casting out demons from people. I remembered the conversation 'cause I thought about you and Carlos at the time."
"Who's the preacher?"
"I dunno."
"Did you tell Mikal what happened to me and Carlos?"
"Holy shit, no!" Buck laughed. "I wasn't about to mention any of that. Do I look like I'm crazy?"
"If you tell Mikal about what's happening, will he help us?" Wilma felt a slight glimmer of hope. "Maybe I should talk to him myself."
"Get a psychic in there first," Buck instructed, his tone firm but casual. "But make sure they're legit. I ain't interested in some quack messing around. If they confirm some bad mojo, then I'll reach out to Mikal and see if he's got any tricks up his sleeve for you."
"What do you mean, me?" Wilma raised her voice again. "You mean us, don't you?"
"I ain't getting tangled up in this mess, Wilma," Buck said, his tone a mix of frustration and anger. "Listen, I'll give Mikal a ring and fill him in on your ghost stories, but after that, it's on you and him to figure it out. And let's be real here—I'm not about to risk my shot at a recording deal by telling folks my joint's haunted. That'd sound like some twisted PR stunt. I'm on the brink of a contract, and I ain't letting anything screw that up!"
"I guess you're right," Wilma gave in, "but will you call Mikal and see if his preacher friend will show up?"
"I told you I'd do it after your fortune teller does his thing," Buck replied, his tone a blend of casualness and irritation, as he pulled the car into the driveway of their upscale home.
"That's all I ask," Wilma said with a slight smile.
"Good!" Buck switched off the ignition and looked over his wife with a warm smile. "Now, let's get inside and get to bed. I'm plumb tuckered out."
The couple climbed out of the auto and disappeared into their home, ready to get some sleep. Buck was in total wonderment, thinking about the ghostly tales that were now plaguing the resort. Wilma was just relieved that her husband had finally promised to help her, even if he still refused to acknowledge the fact that something evil dwelled there.
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