Waiting Spirits

by Bruce Coville

  It was happening. It was happening now, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  From a clump of bushes beside the summerhouse, Lisa watched the delicate girl step forward. She carried a handful of daisies. The sleeve of her white dress was stained with something green.

  “Carrie!” cried Myra Halston.

  Andrew Long leaped up, a horrible look of panic in his eyes. He started toward the summerhouse door. Toward Carrie.

  The girl screamed at the look on his face, then turned and began running down the path.

  Myra stood, her eyes wide with fright. She started after them, stumbled over her long dress, and lost consciousness when her head struck the doorframe.

  Lisa thought that would be the end of it, that the memory would end. But there was more. She could hear Carrie screaming, “Mommy! Mommy! I need you!”

  Myra Halston pushed herself to her knees, then staggered to her feet. Lifting the edge of her dress, she ran down the garden path. Lisa took off after her. Side by side, Lisa and Myra reached the fish pond.

  Andrew Long was kneeling at the edge of the water, his hands around Carrie’s neck.

  Her face was under the water, her body convulsing mightily. With the strength that sometimes comes when death is near, she wrenched herself out of the water. “Mommy!” she screamed. “Mommy!”

  Andrew Long plunged her face back into the pond.

  Myra Halston, too fragile for the real world and far, far too fragile for this, fainted.

  Somewhere in the distance the gramophone continued to play “Beautiful Dreamer.”

  And then Lisa was gone, ejected not only from Myra Halston’s mind, but from her own body.

  But just before that happened, she pulled two more pieces of information about Andrew Long from the mind of Myra Halston.

  The first was that, in spite of her denials, even to herself, until that day in the garden Myra had truly loved Andrew Long.

  The second was that two days after he murdered Carrie Halston, the guilt-stricken Andrew Long had taken the pistol his father left him and used it to blow his own brains out.

  Lisa was floating. She looked around. She saw nothing above, or below, or anywhere. It was as if she had been lifted into the night sky and left to drift in a vast and endless darkness.

  She began to weep. Would she be lost here forever?

  “There, there, lass,” said a voice beside her. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

  Lisa looked around. The voice seemed to have come from nowhere.

  “Who are you?” she asked in a whisper. “I can’t see you.”

  “Just a moment,” said the voice. “I’ll try to fix that. You try, too.”

  Lisa was about to ask what she was supposed to try when another voice, deep and gravelly, said, “All right, Ellen. But I’m not sure I can manage it.”

  Something rippled in the mist beside her. Slowly a form appeared. As Lisa watched, the face of a jolly-looking woman took shape. She was dressed in a robe that appeared somewhat tattered. Colorless, translucent, she was nevertheless clearly visible to Lisa now.

  “My name is Ellen McCormack,” she said. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for days.”

  There was a motion beside Ellen, and another figure appeared. Tall and lean, he wore an elegant dressing gown and what appeared to be a permanent scowl. He was not as good at materialization as Ellen McCormack was; Lisa could see him only out of the corners of her eyes. When she looked at him straight on, he disappeared.

  “Hello, Lisa,” he said gruffly. “I’m glad to meet you. I apologize for the circumstances.”

  “Hello, Great-grandfather,” she said softly. “I’m glad to meet you, too.”

  She looked at Ellen McCormack. The diversion created by the arrival of the two ghosts had briefly beaten down her panic. Now it rose full force again. “Where am I?” she cried.

  “You’re in-between,” said Ellen McCormack. “In the place where the dead are trapped when they haven’t freed themselves from earth. We need to talk to you.”

  “Am I dead?” asked Lisa. A strange calm passed over her. For a moment it didn’t seem to matter if she was dead, though somewhere within her she could sense something struggling against the idea.

  “Oh, my, no,” Ellen McCormack laughed. “You, dead? Perish the thought!” Her voice became serious. “But you are in danger, child, and we had to communicate with you. Bringing you here was the only way we knew how. We have to tell you about Mrs. Halston.”

  “You must understand her,” said Mr. Halston.

  “Yes,” said Ellen. “You see, Mrs. Halston is a strong spirit. You wouldn’t think it of someone who’s gone mad like she has, but she’s stronger than either of us.”

  “It’s the madness that gives her strength,” said Mr. Halston. “She was the strongest one of all of us, though we never knew it. She bent the whole household to her will—even after her death.”

  He shook his head sadly.

  “That’s the truth,” said Ellen McCormack. “It’s a terrible thing she’s done to us. A terrible thing indeed.”

  “What has she done?”

  “Kept us here! Kept us while she longed for her precious Carrie. Not that I blame her. My heart ached for the child, too. But Mrs. Halston is confused. Somehow she thinks Carrie is still on Earth, still to be found among the living. That’s why she got so stirred up when your sister came along.”

  “I don’t quite follow all this,” said Lisa.

  “Let me try, Ellen,” said Mr. Halston.

  “As you like, sir.”

  Lisa’s great-grandfather was silent for a moment. “It’s very confusing to die,” he said at last. “In a way, it’s almost like being born. Everything is different again. Some people handle it very well. Others… don’t take it well at all.”

  Lisa could sense him looking for a way to help her understand.

  “We don’t belong here,” he said after a moment. “This place, this nothingness, is like a train station—just a stop on the journey. After you die you have to let go of the physical world before you can go all the way to the other side, which is where you really belong.

  “Most people make the transition sooner or later. But a troubled spirit, someone who can’t let go of the mortal world for one reason or anther, isn’t able to make that passage.

  “That’s what a ghost is. Some spirit who has been trapped here because he or she hasn’t been able to let go of the connections to the physical world.

  “Myra is that way. She longed for Carrie so desperately that she never really accepted her death. So she continued to look for her in your world, even after she herself had died. That’s why the house is haunted.”

  “What about you?” asked Lisa. “Why are you still here?”

  “We’re bound to her,” Ellen McCormack said bitterly. “She’s stronger than we are.”

  Harrison Halston put a hand on Ellen’s shoulder. Though neither of them was solid, Lisa found the gesture oddly moving.

  “Don’t hold it against her, Ellen,” he said softly. “She can’t help herself.

  “Oh, I know that.” She sighed. “But I am everlastingly weary of this place. I want to move on. The problem is,” she said, turning to Lisa, “Mrs. Halston’s spiritual energies have bound us to her. We were tied together anyway, all three of us dying in that fire as we did.” She shuddered, as if more than a half a century later the memory was still painful. “When we got to this place, I was ready to keep going. So was Mr. Halston. But not her. Oh, no. She would have none of it. ‘Not without Carrie!’ she cried. ‘I can’t go on without Carrie!’ And that’s the saddest part of the whole mess. Carrie isn’t down there. And she isn’t here in-between. She’s the only one of us who’s gone on to the other side where she belongs.”

  Ellen McCormack shook her head. “All this time Mrs. Halston has been looking in the wrong place. If she would just move on herself, if she’d just let things go along as they’re supposed to, it would all work out fine. You c
an’t fight these things. You have to let them happen.”

  “Where is Carrie?” asked Lisa.

  “I told you. She’s on the other side.”

  “How do you get there?”

  “You just… go. When you’re ready, you just kind of drift over. I saw it happen once. There was this glow, this lovely light. And then this spirit who had been roaming around suddenly let go all his ties to the old world and just swooped through that light.” Her look was distant and dreamy now. “It was—oh, I can’t tell you. But it was wonderful. I think of it all the time. Long for it.” She looked at Lisa sadly.

  Lisa could sense the woman’s sorrow, and ached to help her.

  “You do that well, you know,” said Ellen McCormack.

  Lisa blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “Sense people’s feelings. You have a natural talent for it. That’s why you made contact so easily the first time you tried the writing—and why Myra was able to zero in on you. You have a natural… “ She looked frustrated. “What’s that word, Harrison?”

  “Empathy,” said Lisa’s great-grandfather. “She’s naturally empathetic. Too empathetic for her own good.” He turned to Lisa. “You should also learn to pay more attention. We went out of our way to warn you. I played the piano with Myra last night just to distract her while Ellen tried to communicate with you. Ellen got the message through. But you ignored it.”

  Lisa started to protest. Harrison Halston raised his hand. “I know, I know. That was mostly your grandmother’s fault.” He shook his head. “My dear little Alice was like her mother that way. Stubborn

  “She’s done well, though,” Ellen said proudly.

  “I don’t care how well she’s done!” cried Lisa. “What are we going to do? How am I going to get back into my body?”

  “I don’t know,” Ellen said sadly. “Mrs. Halston is awfully strong. And she wants Carrie.”

  “Carrie!” cried Lisa. “That’s it! What if we got Carrie for her? The first Carrie, I mean.”

  Her great grandfather looked puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

  “Couldn’t we call Carrie back from wherever she’s gone? Then Myra would leave us alone.”

  Ellen looked at her thoughtfully. “I don’t know,” she said. “I never heard of anyone coming back. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try. We’d best join forces, though.” She reached out and took Lisa’s left hand. Harrison Halston reached for her right.

  Suddenly Lisa felt warm. She was linked to Ellen and to her great-grandfather. She found thoughts intruding on her—bits and pieces of information, traces of memory, scraps of dreams and longings drifting in from both of them.

  Lisa gasped. She wasn’t sure she liked this. If she could sense their thoughts and feelings, surely they could sense hers. If she could have blushed, she would have. There were a lot of things in her mind she certainly didn’t want her great-grandfather to know!

  Then there was no time to think.

  “Carrie!” cried Ellen. “Carrie, can you hear us?”

  She didn’t cry out with her voice; she called with her mind.

  Harrison Halston began to call, too. “Carrie, can you hear us?”

  Lisa could sense his call following Ellen McCormack’s, winding around it like a vine, following it and strengthening it.

  “Carrie!” called Lisa. “Carrie, can you hear us?”

  It was not simply a call. It was a longing, a need. Merged with her great-grandfather and Ellen, she sensed their great love for the child and the enormous aching sorrow they had felt when she died.

  “Carrie!” they cried. “Carrie, can you hear us?”

  No answer.

  “Carrie. Carrie, Carrie, Carrie!” The call echoed through infinity, seeking Carrie Halston.

  Somewhere below them another Carrie heard it.

  “Here!” she cried. “I’m here! Help me!”

  Lisa broke away from the others. Something was wrong!

  “Carrie!” she cried again, and this time she was not crying out for a Carrie long dead, but for her own little sister.

  Her Carrie was in terrible danger.

  Lisa had to go to her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Voice From Beyond

  Lisa found herself plunging down. She could sense the two spirits traveling beside her.

  In an instant the three of them were in the moonlit garden behind the house.

  Lisa corrected herself. They were in what was left of the garden. Having seen the original in Myra Halston’s mind, she knew what a pitiful remnant this was.

  But Lisa had no time to think about the garden. She had seen what was happening, and it was horrible.

  Myra Halston, still controlling Lisa’s body, had taken Carrie into the garden. She stood in back of her now, with one arm wrapped around her and holding her tight. With her other hand she held the butcher knife against Carrie’s throat, ready to draw it across the tender flesh.

  Brian was standing about ten feet in front of her, trying to reason with her.

  As Lisa watched, Alice Miles came staggering around the corner of the house. She was clutching her right arm, which hung limp and useless at her side.

  Lisa wanted to stop them somehow, to make them tell her what had been going on while she had been gone. She threw herself at her own body, trying to push her way back in. It was hopeless. Myra Halston was in complete control, and Lisa could only stand outside, watching helplessly

  Myra’s madness had blossomed into its fullest. Lisa shivered as she heard the words that came out of her own mouth. Her voice was sweet and seductive. “It will only hurt for a moment and then we’ll be together again, Carrie. Forever and ever. Won’t that be nice?”

  Carrie was held tight against Lisa’s body, unable to move. “Please,” she whimpered. “Please, let me go.”

  “Lisa,” said Brian. “Or Myra, or whoever you are. Let go of her!” He took a step toward the two girls.

  “Stand back!” screamed Myra. “Get away!”

  Brian stopped in his tracks. Alice Miles staggered up beside him. “Don’t aggravate her,” she whispered. “There is no telling what she’ll do.”

  Brian nodded grimly.

  “It’s time to come to Mommy,” crooned Myra. “Oh, Carrie. Mommy has been waiting so long for this. Don’t you want to be with me again? You’ll feel just a little hurt, and then we’ll be together forever.”

  Carrie was trembling violently. Myra pressed the knife more tightly against her throat. “I don’t want to do it until you’re ready,” she murmured. “It won’t be nearly so nice if I do. Haven’t you missed me, darling? Haven’t you missed your mother?”

  Lisa read the terror in her sister’s eyes and ached for her.

  “Isn’t there any way to stop her?” she cried, turning to the spirits who floated beside her.

  Ellen McCormack was weeping. Harrison Halston’s face was hard as stone. “None,” he said bitterly.

  “Don’t you remember?” asked Myra. “Listen!” A strange look crossed her face. “Mommy?” she called in a high-pitched voice. “Mommy, where are you?”

  She dropped her voice to its normal tone. “Don’t you remember how you were looking for me?” she asked. “You looked and looked. And now, here I am. I’ve come for you at last. Oh, please, Carrie. Please say it’s all right. Then I can finish it, and we can be together.”

  Listening to the words come from her own lips, seeing that madness shine in her own eyes, made Lisa ill.

  Myra pressed the knife more tightly against Carrie’s neck. A thin red line appeared beneath the blade.

  “Leave me alone!” cried Carrie. “Leave me alone!”

  Myra’s eyes flashed with rage. “You ungrateful child!” she screamed. “You’re not Carrie. You’re not my Carrie at all! I’ll punish you for this!”

  She raised the knife and was ready to plunge it downward when Brian cried, “Myra, stop!”

  She hesitated, her hand in the air.

  Because it wasn’t B
rian.

  Lisa let out a gasp. She could see Brian’s spirit floating outside his body, just as she was outside hers. He looked dazed, confused.

  Clearly someone had taken over his body, just as Myra had taken over hers.

  But who? She looked beside her. Ellen and her great-grandfather were still there.

  What was going on?

  “Myra, put down the knife.”

  It wasn’t Brian’s voice. It was a voice Lisa had never heard before.

  But Myra had.

  “Andrew? Andrew, is that you?”

  Brian took a step toward her. “Yes, Myra. It’s me.”

  Andrew Long! The man who had murdered the first Carrie, all those years ago.

  Myra twisted Lisa’s face in wrath. “What do you want? Why are you here?”

  “I’ve been here all along,” replied Andrew. “Here in the garden, waiting to see you again, to tell you how sorry I am. Waiting to make up for what I did.” He moved Brian’s body another step in her direction. “Put down the knife, Myra.”

  Lisa could see Myra’s hand tremble as she wavered under Andrew Long’s gaze. Her fingers played back and forth on the hilt of the knife.

  Brian’s body took another step toward Lisa’s body; Andrew Long moved in on Myra Halston.

  “Put the knife down,” he said again, his voice gentle but firm.

  Myra began to lower the shining blade.

  “That’s right,” said Andrew Long. “That’s right, Myra.” He took another step in her direction.

  Lisa could see Myra struggling with herself. The body she had stolen was trembling with the effort. Brian’s body took another step forward. He reached out and grabbed the arm that held the knife.

  “Now, Carrie!” he cried. “Run!”

  Carrie twisted out of Myra’s grasp and raced to her grandmother. Lisa watched with horror as her own face was distorted by the wrath of the person in her body.

  “You beast!” she cried. “You’ve robbed me again! You’ve taken my baby!”

  She wrenched her hand free from his grasp. Lisa screamed as the butcher knife sliced across Brian’s face, opening a wound that splattered blood in all directions.

  “No!” she cried. “No! No! No!”