10

 

Emptiness accompanied me on the trip from Ashland to Darlington. I tried to shift the disagreement with my sister to the back of my mind, knowing she would come to her senses in a few days and call me. But my thoughts wandered back to our last words. Why wouldn’t she try to understand?

The cellphone rested in the cup holder, just as it had on my last trip to Trina’s. Now its presence grew bigger than life. It would be so easy to pick up the phone, to place the call and end the emotional confusion that tethered me to Ashland. Little traffic shared the highway with me, it would be safe to place a call. I only had to push one button; her number was on speed dial. I released my tight grip from the steering wheel with my right hand and stretched toward the phone.

No. I wouldn’t give in to her this time. If she didn’t call me first, I would call her. But not until after Barbara talked to Jimmy.

Within an hour of arriving in Darlington, Trina had caught me up on all the news. Mrs. Roberts was now called Sandra. There had been no progress on Jimmy and, after prompting, I found out Mitch had not yet been arrested for planting the marijuana. No mention of the ghosts.

When I arrived, I noted my advice that Trina rest had been ignored. She looked tired, but the entire downstairs glowed from being scrubbed and polished. The smell of Murphy’s Oil Soap and lemon furniture polish replaced the stink of mold and arthritis cream. Ted had finished painting the porch.

The place felt like a home. How had I ever thought the ghosts could be demons? A demon couldn’t survive in a place as warm and comforting as this.

In spite of the good feeling evoked from the house, I was more anxious than ever to hear from Jimmy’s spirit. I imagined, with satisfaction, the look on Officer Studler’s face when I handed him the lead to Jimmy’s killer. On the other hand, I dreaded finding out the part my possible-ancestor played, but I had to know the truth. I looked at the attic door as I passed, suitcase in hand. Were the ghost boys still up there? I hoped so.

Neither Trina nor Ted allowed me to do anything the first day. At loose ends, I ended up examining some of Ted’s paintings that remained in the upstairs bedroom. He had moved his workshop to the garage while I was gone. Looking at the abstract art, I still had a hard time believing the picture Betsy had given me had been created by the same man that produced these scribbled canvasses.

Wandering outside, I noticed weeds had taken over the marijuana plot. I would have to do something about the wild growth in that part of the yard.

After lunch, Trina disappeared into town, and Ted retreated to his workshop. Alone, I headed to the attic door and tentatively put my hand on the knob, half expecting to feel an unusual energy. Nothing happened.

I open the door and climbed the stairs, no longer fearing the ghosts. Instead, an ache gripped me. I longed for a connection, and my eyes sought the spot where Jimmy had died.

The shoe prints of the investigators remained entombed in the dust, revealing the presence of humans as strongly as the ghost had revealed Jimmy’s. A young life reduced to a statistic. My heart lay heavy as I closed the attic door.

Barbara was due the next day. I paced around, unable to stick with any task. I had to keep Barbara’s occupation from Trina and Ted. I had never kept a secret from Trina before.

Would Barbara agree not to mention her gift? Why hadn’t I thought to talk to her about this before?

Anticipation and tension mounted with each passing hour.

 



 

Barbara’s plane landed at the Florence Regional Airport at 2:00 PM. We exited the small terminal, Barbara’s hand in one of mine, her extra-large suitcase gripped in my other.

Barbara fanned her face with her hand. “Is this what the south always feels like?”

I laughed. “Hot and muggy they tell me. You know as much as I do.”

“This will take some getting used to.”

We reached the row where I had parked my car. “It would be best if you and I go to the attic alone,” I said.

“I agree. The less interference we have the better.”

Slipping my key into the lock, I opened her door then lifted the suitcase into the trunk. Once on the road, I continued the conversation.

“I didn’t tell Trina and Ted that you’re a psychic.”

She shifted in her seat to face me. “Oh? Is there a reason?”

“I’m not sure how Ted feels about psychics. He’s a little strange, and I don’t want him to upset our plan.”

“But Trina’s all right with it, right?”

“Let’s wait and surprise her after you contact Jimmy. You’ll like Trina. She has a tendency to talk too much, but she’s a sweet girl, and she’s been a great daughter. Couldn’t ask for better. Wait ’til you see what she’s done to the house.”

She stared at me before speaking. “I think you are the one uncomfortable with me being a psychic.”

“No. It’s just that…they’ve never met a psychic before. You said yourself that lots of people have misconceptions about psychics until they meet them. Let the kids get to know you first; that’s all I ask.”

She looked out the window, her expression hidden.

“OK?” I urged.

“I’m disappointed you feel like you can’t tell them who I really am.”

By the time I pulled into the drive way the pit in my stomach had grown roots. Barbara had not agreed to keep silent. Trina stood waiting on the porch. I helped Barbara out of the car and guided her to the newly repaired front steps.

“Barbara! I’m Trina,” she said, grasping Barbara’s hand. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. I hope your flight went well. Are you tired?”

“Honey, how about some iced tea on the porch?” I asked. “It’s a beautiful day, we should enjoy it. Where’s Ted?”

“In the shower.”

“I’m fine,” Barbara said, “but if you want some tea, Bill.” She turned to Trina. “I’m anxious to see this house I’ve heard so much about.” She took Trina’s arm and the two women headed through the front door.

“You should have seen it when we first moved in…”

The door closed, muffling their conversation. I raced to the car, and pulled Barbara’s suitcase from the trunk. It was big enough for three women. I lugged it up the porch steps, anxious to follow them into the house. Barbara alone with Trina. My stomach surged.

Getting Barbara to the attic alone without Trina or Ted was going to be hard, but I had a plan. I needed to delay the tour of the upstairs as long as I could. I had counted on spending a good half hour on the porch. Already we were ahead of schedule, not a good thing. The pit grew branches and crept into my throat. It was going to be a long night.

“These old houses have such great bones. People can’t afford to build places like these anymore.” Barbara glanced my way when I came in. “Trina’s been showing me the family tree in the old Bible. Amazing.”

Ted appeared, smelling of soap, his fine blonde hair still wet but neatly combed. He extended his hand to Barbara.

“I’m in love with your house.” Barbara accepted the outstretched hand.

“We’ve really been working hard. The biggest job was cleaning out the trash. Lots of old magazines and papers, but probably Trina’s told you all about that.”

“She said you made a hundred trips to the dump.”

“I don’t know if it was a hundred,” Ted said, rubbing the back of his neck, “but for a few days that’s all I got done, going back and forth.”

“Do you have a trailer?”

“We used the pickup truck that belonged to a previous tenant.”

“Oh, the sandy-haired skinny kid—”

“That’s him.” Trina laughed. “That’s how Dad would describe him anyway.”

“Your dad told me all about him,” Barbara said. “I don’t think he likes him much,” she whispered.

“Oh, Mitch is a good enough guy,” Ted said. “He just takes some getting used to.” He strained as he lifted the bulky suitcase. “I’ll take this upstairs.”

“Your house is special,” Barbara said. “I can feel a—”

“Wait ‘til you see Ted’s paintings,” I said. “Trina, aren’t there some pictures we can show Barbara?”

“Dad, I didn’t think you liked Ted’s work.”

“Of course I like his work. Who wouldn’t?”

Ted’s muffled voice came through the stair railings, “I’ll take Barbara on a tour of my workshop later if she wants.”

I hadn’t planned on Ted overhearing my remark.

Too quickly we finished touring the downstairs. Next Trina led us to the stairs. “This is called a ladies’ staircase because it is in the back of the house. That way, gentlemen could not see under ladies hoop skirts like they could if the stairs came down in the front of the house. The men waited in the parlor, you know.” As she continued her monologue, I glanced at my watch, wondering how many minutes I could waste discussing bathrooms.

We visited all the bedrooms and baths. Ted joined us halfway through. I checked my watch. Only twenty minutes gone by. Normally Trina could drag a tour of the house out forever. Why was she going through it so quickly today? I had to slow her down before she offered to show Barbara the attic. Later tonight, once Barbara had contacted Jimmy, then we could be open with the kids. Maybe then, they would accept the value of what a psychic could do. After all, Barbara’s minister had just said on Sunday that we need to ‘open our minds to the natural world beyond us.’

“The bedrooms are lovely, Trina. You have a real gift for decorating. Was interior design your major in college?”

“No, actually it was elementary education. I worked a couple of years after graduation, and then Ted and I came down here, I fell in love with this house, and the rest is history.”

“What do you do, Barbara?” Ted asked.

“Wow, look at the time,” I said, pointing to my watch. “If we’re going to beat the crowds to the restaurant for supper, we had better get going.”

“It’s only three thirty,” Ted stated.

“Hate to wait in line.”

“It’s really doesn’t get that busy, Dad.”

“I’ll show Barbara to her room. You two go get ready.” I grabbed Barbara by the hand and pulled her down the hallway, leaving Trina and Ted gaping after us.

 



 

After dinner, I waited until Ted and Trina had settled on the sofa and got caught up in a movie before I mentioned that Barbara had not finished the tour. Even the huge bowl of popcorn Ted had made did not dull my anticipation of what Barbara might find. I had waited as long as I could wait.

Why don’t you stay here, and I’ll show her around,” I suggested, shoving a fistful of the popped kernels into my mouth.

Trina glanced my way, then back to the television. “Go ahead, Dad. I think we got to most of it.” Trina’s face looked haggard. Tonight her fatigue worked to my advantage.

I led Barbara up the ladies’ stairway, and snatched a blanket for her to sit on from the shelf in my bedroom. I hoped it wouldn’t take too long to clear her mind so her saint could do his thing. It would be impossible for me to clear mine.

My heart rate accelerated as I led Barbara up the attic steps. The wait was almost over; I was going to find out why Jimmy had contacted me!

“It looks exactly like you described it,” Barbara murmured as she glanced around.

“Do you think Jimmy will show up?”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“You’re a psychic, and I was alone last time…”

“Ted and Trina were with you.”

“I know but that was different.” And it was different. There was a comfort in sharing the experience. I didn’t know if Jimmy would show himself visually as before, or speak through Barbara. It really didn’t matter; we just needed to make contact.

As I spread the blanket in the middle of the floor, the air grew colder. A strangling, garbled sound came from behind me.

I turned around.

Barbara’s head was lifted toward the ceiling and tilted at an awkward angle. Standing stiff, her eyes were closed. The garbled sounds were coming from Barbara’s throat. Her beautiful face was distorted so markedly that it was hard to recognize her.

“Barbara?”

I reached for her but stopped as macabre sounds poured out of her mouth.

The icy air thickened. I could barely breathe. The sounds changed into wailing, hissing, and groaning. I covered my ears, but the reverberations penetrated through my hands.

Barbara’s head snapped down. Her eyes opened. The light blue orbs that had entranced me now burned with an inner blackness.

Something horrible was using Barbara’s body. I stood frozen to the spot, horror seeping through me.

She started to laugh, a manic, wild laugh, not the gentle girl-like laugh of the woman I knew.

I shivered as all life drained from me. I knew I should shake her, plead with the entity inside her to leave, do something. But I was afraid—afraid that whatever was in her might find a way into me.

God help me!

Barbara fell to the floor in an unconscious heap.