Chapter Nine

“What happened? I thought we were making progress,” she asked to the room in general, hoping someone might be able to answer her question.

Mikey was the first to step forward, though he kept a hand on the faded Eileen. “She was okay and started walking around looking at things. I can’t seem to get her to stop looking at this necklace.”

Mel’s mom had taken some of the more expensive-looking pieces of jewelry and had put them into a case like a jeweler’s. She had tiaras, pearls, diamonds, rings, earrings, emeralds, brooches, and necklaces. Mel had always wanted to play with them when she was in her pre-teen dress-up stage, but her mother had taught her to respect the fact that certain ghosts did not want to be touched. Mel had talked in front of the case to them until a few had come out and let her try them on. She’d never touched the others, not even to clean them.

“Which necklace?”

Mikey pointed, and her breath caught in her throat. It was a necklace she’d never been able to touch. The one time she’d tried had been two years after she’d started talking to the ghosts and trying things on. They liked to come out of the case and be paraded around, to be played with and admired. But that necklace had burned her fingers. She had a small scar on her pinky because she’d picked it up and it had burned hot as a flame on the stove, scorching her hand until she’d dropped it. There was still a small scorch mark from it on the Oriental rug under the case. Her mother had put her hand under cold water and warned her to touch only the things she was given permission to touch. Then she’d held her on her lap and rocked her to sleep.

“That necklace,” Mel said.

“Yes, that necklace,” Mikey answered, though it had been a statement, not a question.

Mel stepped closer to the case, between it and Eileen. “What do you see?” she asked the young woman.

“That was mine. Whoever had that necklace must have made my chest burn, because I was wearing it on the night my car broke down.” Her monotone was almost as frightening as the way she’d shut off completely. What must be going through her mind?

Mel opened the case and considered risking the burn again, just to take it out. She thought better of it at the last second. “The book! I’ll grab it and see who it belongs to!”

The doors banged shut, blocking her into the parlor with everyone else. When she turned back, the necklace glowed orange, and tendrils of smoke rose from the satin cushion her mother had placed under the necklace all those years ago.

“Quick! Open the windows,” Mel shouted.

Becker tried, but nothing was budging. The smoke grew denser in the case.

“Oh, my God. If that thing ignites, we might not be able to put it out so easily. We’ll die in here if there’s no way for us to get out!” Mel sought out the arms of Becker and pulled the dog with her.

Her house, everything in it, it would all go up in flames…

“My watch,” Becker said, pulling it from his pocket. “Grandpa, can you help?”

The dapper old man emerged from the pocket watch Becker carried everywhere with him.

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t fight something I can’t see, and this one has a will strong enough to have killed himself.”

“I’m so sorry.” Eileen sobbed. “I wish I’d never woken up. Look what I’ve done to everyone.”

The smoke vanished, and standing in the center of the room was a man with haunted eyes. He was a ghost, but his presence seemed to suck the very air from the room. Sadness and anger soared to the ceilings, suffocating in their mass. This was worse than a fire. Mel gasped and gripped her knees as she bent over.

“Uncle John?”

The stranglehold broke. Mel breathed in and made sure that Mumford and Becker were okay.

“What the hell was that?” she said, facing the man in the middle of the room.

“I don’t know,” Eileen said, floating toward him.

Mel went to reach for her, but Becker held her back.

“Don’t hurt her. Never hurt her again,” Eileen said in a soft voice, filled with anguish. “I remember.”

Tears streamed down the older man’s face. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Please believe me. I never meant to hurt you.”

“But you…” Eileen trailed off, clutching her chest. “You shot me.”

“I thought you were an intruder.”

“I came to your house because my car broke down, and I wanted to see if you could help me. You were closer than my parents. And you shot me.”

He gripped the tie at his neck and pulled hard, agony etched deep into his face. “I’m so sorry.”

“But why didn’t I wake up? Why didn’t I go to heaven? Why am I just now coming here after almost thirty-five years?”

“That I can answer,” Becker’s great-grandfather said, stepping forward. “But before I do, I’d like to give your uncle a chance to redeem himself.”

“Redemption?” the man roared. “There is no redemption. How can I ever redeem myself? I killed my niece, my only niece, the girl my brother and sister-in-law adored, the girl I adored. I cut her life off because I thought she was an intruder, and then I hid her because I couldn’t face what I’d done. I tried to kill myself that night, and it didn’t work. That took another ten years of self-indulgence, of making sure I was never at rest. Ten years of torture, until I finally stepped in front of a train with her necklace in my hand.”

Everyone stopped breathing; even those who didn’t have to breathe anymore did not move an inch. He’d killed her, thinking she was an intruder. He’d killed her and then hidden her, and something Dougal had done during his cleaning must have stirred up her soul.

“Take me,” the uncle pleaded. “Someone take me and send me to Hell. I can’t be here, I can’t face this, and I’d rather suffer endless torture than stay another minute with her accusation staring me in the face.”

“You’ve already been in Hell, son,” Great-Grandpa said, stepping forward. “There is no choice in where you go when you’re sent. We don’t decide that here; it’s done on a higher plane than even I have touched. I can send you on if you want, but why don’t you first tell us where your niece is buried so we can give her the same choice?”

****

Back to Mrs. F’s they went. Mel had no excuse this time and instead simply said that she was wondering if she could take Becker on a tour of the beautiful old house. He oohed and ahhed in all the right places, but Mel really wanted to get out to the outbuilding where John Ferguson had disposed of his niece. He’d told her parents that she’d run away after stopping at his house to tell him how unhappy she was. He’d brought her car to this very junkyard, hoping to hide it. It sat in the back lot, stripped of its tires, home to a family of mice who liked the interior. The brake lines had been bad, the oil running low, according to the record her grandfather had kept at the time. Eileen had died in an accident, an unfortunate and horrible accident, and now they were going to consecrate the ground where he had disposed of her body with lye.

“How on earth are we going to do this?” Mel asked Becker. They waved to Mrs. F, who stood on the back porch, as they made their way to the old carriage house. “What if it’s concrete now? I can’t ask Mrs. F to break up her garage to consecrate the dirt.”

“Your mom said it’s the intention and not the actual dirt that matters. My great-grandfather agreed. Just do your best. We’ll see what happens.”

Standing in the carriage house with Becker, Mel said the words, sprinkled the holy water and the herbs, and consecrated the ground where a girl had died who should have lived a long, long life.

Mel needed a hug when it was over, and Becker gave her one without being asked. Leaning into him, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to continue with this. Being bombarded with the emotions in here, the anger of John, the fear of Eileen, the senseless death, and the cover-up were almost too much for her. Maybe she had been safer when she’d walled everyone off and just kept to herself. But then she looked into Becker’s eyes and knew she would never be able to go back. And that was okay.

“You ready to leave?” he asked.

“We’re done here, and yes. Let’s go say goodbye to Mrs. F. I wonder if this will keep the spirits from becoming restless when her family visits now. I wonder if that’s what stirs them up, the unrest in the house compounded by the death that happened that was never acknowledged.”

“It’s very possible.”

She hugged him tighter. “Thanks for being here with me.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, Mel. Nowhere else but by your side,” he wheezed out.

Laughing, she let go. Then she sobered. “What are we going to do about Eileen?”

“We’ll know when we see her.”

****

Back at the house, Mel ate another cookie that Mrs. Hatchett offered her and sat with her mom for a few minutes before facing the parlor again.

Becker stroked her arm as they entered the room. “Why don’t we ask Eileen if she needs closure to be able to move on? That might be a good place to start.”

They turned to Eileen. She stepped closer to Mikey. Mikey and Eileen, inseparable now, floated along the floor. “I don’t think I need closure, but I would like to see my parents and maybe tell them that I’m okay even if I’m dead. I hate to think that they still think I just don’t want to be near them. That’s the farthest thing from the truth.”

It would take some logistics and some doing, but Mel might be able to get her to at least see her parents. “I can do the see part, but I don’t think I can do anything about the telling part.”

“Couldn’t you let them know that you’ve talked with her from the other side and that she wanted to convince them that she had never left them?” Mrs. Hatchet asked.

Just the thought of exposing herself like that made Mel queasy in her stomach. “I have to keep the family business at the junkyard.”

“And yet other people know about it,” Mrs. Hatchett pressed.

“Maybe I could ask Esther to come down and do a séance. I’m sure she’d be fine with that.”

“But my parents don’t believe in that kind of stuff. They’d never let that in their house.”

“What about auto writing? I could let you in, and allow you to write them a letter that would explain it all in your own hand.” Allowing a ghost into her body also was a quease-maker, but it was by far easier than what they were asking her to do.

“I wouldn’t be comfortable with that,” Mrs. Hatchett said. “I really think you need to take the girl to her parents and let them know what happened.”

“I’ll think about it.” Protests rose from every corner. “I know what you’re asking is not too much, and I know that you want me to do this, but at least give me twenty-four hours to figure out what I can do and how I can do it. That’s not too much to ask in return. It’s been thirty-five years, and one more day is not going to make or break anyone.” Mel stomped off in her jelly shoes, her bangs flying.

“You know, they really aren’t asking a lot, and people do know about what you do even if they don’t acknowledge it. It’s not really the big secret your father has always thought it is.” Mel’s mom sat on the couch next to the Victrola, running a finger around the base of the beautifully polished machine.

“But I thought…”

“I know what you thought, and I know what your father would like to believe, but the truth is that more people know than you realize. And if this will bring closure to the family and help the girl decide what she wants to do, then you’re going to have to step outside yourself and do this.”

“But what if I don’t want to? It’s hard enough to have stayed out here all my life, and kept away from people because they think I’m weird. To actually invite that kind of scrutiny would be agony.”

“You underestimate yourself. You always have. It won’t be agony. I’ll come with you, if you want.”

“You haven’t been out of the house since you died.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t go. Put the Victrola in the back of the car, and let’s go. Bring light into that girl’s life. She’s got Mikey, which I highly approve of, by the way. That boy has needed someone like her, but she could also have closure.”

“Fine, but you’re definitely coming with me,” Mel said with her hands on her hips.

“I already said I would,” Mom said, a smile on her face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, but I’d like to state for the record that I’m not happy about this.”

“Duly noted. You don’t have to be, you just have to do your job.”

****

Mel had no idea how to get to Eileen’s family and tried to use that to block the mission. She failed miserably when Becker was able to find that they’d moved to a retirement community on the other side of town.

The car really was full, with Dougal and Mumford, Mikey and Eileen, Mel’s mom and her Victrola.

“I hope this works,” Mel grumbled.

“It will. Just calm down.” Becker patted her jumping leg.

They pulled up in front of a one-story house, and Eileen began to cry. “I can feel them in there.” She whisked out of the car, Mikey following close behind.

The front door opened, and out stepped an older couple. All Mel’s ideas about what she was going to say to get them to open the front door went flying out the window.

She and Becker emerged from the car, and she made damn sure her mother was following behind.

“Harry and Matilda?”

“Yes, we don’t often get visitors.”

“I, um, am not sure how to go about this.”

“Be strong,” her mother said. “But use compassion.”

In the end, it didn’t matter, though, because Mumford brought the necklace out of the car, trotting up the sidewalk.

Matilda gasped, gripping her collar.

“Where did you get that?” Harry demanded, his face turning red as he rasped the words out.

“This is the part I’m not sure how to address.” Mel gripped her hands together.

“Tell them, Mel. Tell them now,” Mom said quietly.

“We found your daughter.”

And now Matilda was crying—sobbing actually—and it broke Mel’s heart to go on. But she had to.

“I’m so sorry, but your daughter never ran away. A horrible accident occurred, and she died.”

“But she…” Harry trailed off as he looked over Mel’s shoulder.

Mel followed his gaze.

Eileen had materialized. Not everyone could see ghosts, not everyone wanted to. But Eileen would not go unnoticed. She walked toward her mother and brushed her hand along her face, where tears made tracks down her cheeks. Then she touched her father’s chin. They both reached out back toward her, Harry crying, Matilda with a smile through her tears.

“We love you,” Matilda said. “We never stopped looking for you.”

“I love you, Mom. I love you, Dad. I’m okay now. I’m here, and I’m okay. I have to go away again, but I wanted you to know I always loved you and never would have run away.”

And then Eileen faded, her color going grayish. Mikey escorted her back to the car as Mel dealt with the parents.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” She waited for them to call her weird or be shocked that she had access to ghosts, that she’d brought one of them to her.

“It’s not a loss; it’s our blessing to have seen her and talked to her.” Matilda held Mel’s hands in her own. “Thank you. We can’t thank you enough. May we keep the necklace?”

Yikes, she hadn’t thought of that. “Um, actually I need to take it back with me.” Because if she didn’t, Eileen would be stuck here.

“Will she be with you?” Harry asked.

“Yes, and I promise to take good care of her.”

“Then we’ll let her go. Thank you. If you see her again, tell her we love her.”

Mel looked back to the car and saw Eileen with her head close to Mikey’s. She was crying while he stroked her hair.

“She knows,” Mel said. “But if I see her, I’ll let her know again.”

They both hugged Mel tightly before letting her leave, waving as she backed out of the driveway with Becker, the ghosts, and her mother’s Victrola in the back seat.

“Phew.”

“You were wonderful,” Becker said.

“Fantastic,” Eileen added.

“Magnificent,” Mikey chimed in.

“Stupendous,” her mom said.

Good Lord, it had better end soon. Mel rolled down the windows and cranked up the music to drown them all out. The last thing she heard before Blondie sang about hearts of glass was her mom’s chuckle.

Not a happy ending, necessarily, but closure. Mikey and Eileen sat in the back of the car with their heads bent toward each other on the way back to the junkyard.

When they pulled up to the house, everyone piled out. Becker carried the Victrola into the house while Peggy giggled about being carried across the threshold by her future son-in-law.

Good Lord, again.

One final thing to do. They entered the parlor, where Uncle John stood motionless in the middle of the floor. Eileen rushed past Mel to stand right in front of him.

“They know,” she stated.

And he wailed like a banshee.

She put her hand on his heart. “They know I died in an accident but not what happened. They know I didn’t run away and that I love them. I said nothing more. I don’t want your memory to be sullied. It wouldn’t serve any purpose.”

He jerked as if she’d slapped him, but his rigid posture gave way to a slump. “Why?”

“Because it was the right thing to do. You made a mistake. And now it’s right. You can rest now.”

“I…” He trailed off as Great-Grandpa came out of Becker’s pocket.

“I can help you.”

“Am I going to the Bad Place? I belong there, no matter what Eileen says.”

“I don’t make that choice, John. Let’s walk, and we’ll talk.”

They left the room together as Mel and Becker looked on. When Great-Grandpa returned a few minutes later, he simply nodded his head.

“The necklace is now free, and so is John,” he said, disappearing into Becker’s pocket watch.

Mel didn’t know if John had gone to the Bad Place or not, but the necklace no longer had anything attached to it. Eileen attached herself to the thing without a second’s hesitation and asked Mel if she’d go find the pennies Mikey had moved out to the yard an inch at a time over the years until he was in one of the drains of a sink.

When Mel found them, she polished them until they looked new. Once done, she set them and the necklace, with nothing else, into a jewelry box with no one attached to it. It was rosewood and hand-carved, a gift her father had given to her mother on their first anniversary, and now it held a treasure more precious than gold.

And maybe that’s what Mel needed to remember. Life was not easy. It was messy, and if she could do anything to clean it up, or make it smoother, then she would do everything she could to make that happen.