I stormed down the street in the rain and straight into Aunt Odie’s house without even knocking. The door popped against the entryway hall, and I didn’t even bother to close it.
Why should I?
She . . .
She . . .
“Aunt Odie?”
TV noise came from the family room.
I hurried down the hall and past the kitchen.
Aunt Odie looked up at me from a huge flat-screen, where she watched a recording of Judge Judy. If there is anything I can say about my aunt, and there is a whole lot, it’s that she is a Judge Judy fan. She never watches cooking shows. “Don’t want to be influenced,” she’s said. “I got a direct line to a spiritual world. No need to mess with the living on this one.”
But Judge Judy? Aunt Odie loves a woman with spine. Her words. Not mine.
“Aunt Odie!”
“Hey, sugar,” Aunt Odie said. She glanced at me, then came to attention in her chair.
“What? What?” she said.
“Dead people!” I said. “I see dead people!”
Aunt Odie picked up the remote and clicked the TV to pause. Right as Judge Judy was saying, “Young lady, you can’t just appear and disappear in people’s lives and not expect consequences of some sort.”
“And you knew it!”
Judge Judy’s mouth was stuck open, freeze-frame.
“I thought someone had died, the way you looked around the eyes.”
I stomped up to her. To my aunt. Not Judge Judy. “Someone has died. Lots have. Did you hear me? I. See. Dead. People.” My hands were fists now.
Aunt Odie settled. “What are you saying?”
“You. Knew.” The words were full of accusation.
The whole house smelled of lemons. What had she been cooking? I didn’t care. I mean, I’d care later. After this war was over. After we’d talked.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“What do you mean, what do I mean?”
Aunt Odie fanned at herself with a Family Circle magazine. “So it happened.”
I nodded. In a violent sorta way.
“Oh no.” Aunt Odie stood, walked around a moment, then moved to the leather sectional. She sat on the sofa, still fanning, then let out a breath. “I wondered when. I wondered when. At first I thought there was a hole in the system. Thought something strange had happened.”
“Are you kidding? Something strange has happened.” My heart pounded so I could see my shirt moving.
Where was Tommie right now? Where? Looking in a window? Sitting on a toilet? Jingling a doorknob somewhere? Chills slipped over me like a bodysuit.
My aunt patted the sofa next to her, shaking her head as though she was the one sad and sorrowful. “You figured it out.”
I didn’t move. Felt my face go squishy.
“Hand me a cigarette, will you, honey? My nerves are undone.”
But I didn’t. I stood there with my hands on my hips. I was furious. Betrayed. I was so angry I could . . . Well, not die. I’d never say that again.
“You are a little bent out of shape, now, aren’t ya?” Aunt Odie blinked several times like she had pepper in her eyes. “I see that.”
I jabbed a finger at Aunt Odie. My eyes filled with tears. “Paulie told you, didn’t he? The other day, he said . . .” I couldn’t keep talking.
She nodded. “He said you have a rare gift.”
I gawked at her. I mean really gawked. Like it says in books.
“And you didn’t say anything about it. Nothing! Why?”
Aunt Odie studied her fingernails, then looked up at me. “Because nothing had happened. And I didn’t want to get you all worked up over something that might prove false. Come on, cinnamon bear. Sit down.”
I refused to sit. I stood there, towering over Aunt Odie, who looked up at me with a guilty expression on her face.
“Honey,” she said at long last. “I wasn’t sure Paulie was right. I mean, I get recipes from dreams. My aunt before me could read minds. You should have heard what she said President Roosevelt was thinking. Her aunt before her could grow anything, anything, and then heal people with her herbs. And you know what your momma and aunts can do.”
I didn’t move.
Aunt Odie shook her head. “I didn’t know you were going to get the dead-people card. Few are trusted with that.”
“Cards or not,” I said, “this shouldn’t be happening.”
“Now wait,” Aunt Odie said.
“It isn’t fair.”
My aunt put on her nothing in life is fair look, but to my surprise, she didn’t say that. Instead she stood, pulled me close, and hugged me. Tight. A little too tight. She whispered into my hair. “Some’s more special than others. Prophets aren’t looking for the calling.”
“I’m not a prophet,” I said into her shoulder. I wanted to pull away, but hugging my aunt was too comfortable. “And what’s Momma gonna say? I have a strong feeling she has an aversion to ghosts.”
Aunt Odie patted my back. “She knows. I told her what Paulie said.”
“Oh.” I pushed back from Aunt Odie. “I’ve been seeing one ghost all along and didn’t even know it. For all I know, you’re dead.”
She put both hands on my shoulders. “Could be, but I’m not. I’ve a feeling we better make us another trip to Cassadaga.”
Judge Judy was frozen mid-move—pointing at someone, mouth wide, eyes serious. From the kitchen I heard the timer ding. “Are you cooking something?”
“I’m always cooking something. Listen. I’ll call Paulie. Let him know you and me are coming out tomorrow morning before school starts. You okay for an early morning trip?”
“Not really,” I said.
“And I need you tomorrow. Think you can get rid of this sour mood?” I gave her a look and she hurried on with, “We got to fill a lot of orders.” She went in the kitchen and I heard the oven door open, then shut.
I stood quiet, a lemon smell swirling around me. “Why is she here?” I said when Aunt Odie eased back into the room.
“Who?”
“The girl. JimDaddy’s first child.”
“Good golly,” Aunt Odie said. She took a breath deep enough to shift her spleen. “That is a sour card, Evie.”
“I know. What do I do?”
“You’re gonna have to figure that one out.”