A few days before we were due back at the Rochester Airport for our return flight to Tulsa, Jessie disappeared.
Evan and I had been trying to find some alone time to explore the exciting new connection we seemed to be building, but between Mom and Dad’s refusal to allow me to leave the lake house, and Jessie’s uncanny ability to interrupt, we’d been totally thwarted. So my first thought upon hearing that Mom couldn’t find her was, “Good! Maybe now Evan and I can grab a minute alone!”
Imagine my guilt when she was still missing hours later.
Evan called his dad — unlike me, he had a working cell phone, and a group of men gathered to search the trails near the lake house. Tommy and I donned swim suits and searched the water around and under the dock. Mom scoured the house from top to bottom, even checking the attic and crawl space which none of us had bothered with all summer.
No one found any sign of her. Jessie had simply vanished.
Exhausted by fear and guilt, I dropped into one of the overstuffed chairs in the front room and closed my eyes. As I relaxed, a shiver ran down my spine and a corresponding tremor moved through the floor boards beneath my feet. I froze, remembering my initial unease with this house. But we’d been here nearly a month, and since I’d made my pact with it that first night, I’d been at ease. Had something changed? Had the house broken our agreement and harmed Jessie?
Rage flared, coursing through my veins. If the lake house had hurt Jessie, I’d make sure it was razed and the ground beneath it salted!
As if understanding my unspoken threat, an image formed in my mind. Becca. The little girl I’d been writing stories about for the past month. One of her adventures had communicated itself to me with such intense sorrow, such soul-wrenching sadness, that I hadn’t tried to write it down. I knew I didn’t have the skill with words to convey her emotions, but I’d never forget that dream.
It occurred to me now that my dreams of Becca had begun almost immediately after I’d made my deal with the house. They couldn’t be related, could they? Was Becca somehow tied to this house?
Was the house trying to communicate with me now? Through Becca?
“Do you know where Jessie is?” I asked the little girl in my mind.
She nodded, and once again my heart was flooded with the sad devastation of that unrecorded dream.
I jumped from my comfortable chair and raced for the kitchen, calling for Mom.
“What?” she cried. “Have you found her?”
“Not yet, but I have an idea.” I pointed to a cabinet door hidden below the worktable that sat along the wall the kitchen shared with the front room, the wall that housed the fireplace in that other room. “Did you look in there?”
Mom looked blank. “No. I didn’t even think of it. It’s out of my line of sight.”
I nodded. “But it’s not out of Jessie’s. Help me move the table.”
The table didn’t block the door, but if my dream of Becca was accurate, the door could only be opened from the outside. If I went in, I wanted Mom to have easy access to get me out.
We dragged the table to middle of the room and I scrambled to the cabinet door, praying I wasn’t too late. I yanked it open and Mom held it still. I crawled inside and found my little sister, unconscious.
Pulling her out onto the kitchen floor, I glanced up at Mom. “We need to get her to a hospital.”
“What’s wrong?” Mom asked. “Why didn’t she answer me? I’ve been calling her name for hours!”
“I don’t know for sure,” I said, “but I think it’s carbon monoxide from the fireplace. It’s been building up in the cabinet all month.”
Dad, Evan, and Evan’s dad, Jason, came through the back door, saw Jessie on the floor and the kitchen erupted in activity. Jason called 9-1-1, Evan moved to my side, and Dad scooped Jessie from the floor, saying, “What does she need?”
“Fresh air!” I yelled and we all bolted for the front door.
The emergency dispatcher recommended that we wait for the ambulance, and before I would’ve thought possible in such a remote location the lake house’s drive was filled with flashing lights and milling people.
Jessie was given oxygen and taken to a nearby hospital, Mom and Tommy riding along with her.
The police officer, along with Dad and Jason and Evan, wanted to know how I’d found her. I couldn’t very well tell them that the house and a small ghost had told me, so I just said that I noticed the cabinet and suddenly realized that its proximity to the fireplace could have been a death trap. After all, my class had studied carbon monoxide poisoning in a health unit last year.
The men went to check out the cabinet, and I followed.
Dad shone a flashlight around the enclosure and stilled. “Jason,” he said quietly, “what do you remember about family legends? Didn’t a little girl go missing in the ‘40s?”
Evan’s dad frowned. “Yes. I think she was about twelve. They never found her.”
Dad looked up, his expression solemn. “I think we just did.”
“Her name was Becca, wasn’t it?” I asked.
Jason looked startled, then thoughtful. “Yes,” he said. “I believe it was. Rebecca Baines. Her parents were the last year-round residents of this house. After her disappearance, it became a vacation home. My family had worked for the Baines from time to time, so we became the caretakers.” He studied me for a moment. “Have you been seeing ghosts?”
I blushed. “Not really, but I’ve been dreaming about Becca.”
He nodded. “Every now and then a family member has sworn the house was haunted. But only family. When we rent it out to the general public, we never hear any tales. Seems Becca only wanted to talk to relations.”
Dad stood and put an arm around my shoulders. “Well, I’m glad she chose to talk to you. Not only did you save your sister, but you’ve found a lost child. We’ll give her a proper burial. Maybe that will allow her spirit to rest.”