Rosemary was standing next to the sofa when I reentered the living room. She smiled and stepped around the chair that I no longer found to be cozy and gave me a hug. "It's been so nice having you here, Tess. Thank you so much."
I hugged her back with genuine affection. I felt so much sympathy for this woman and more than anything I wanted to help her. "Thank you for all your hospitality, Rosemary."
"Oh yes, you must really be enjoying all the dead company!" Rosemary laughed though it sounded strained and I patted her shoulder.
"I'm used to it, Rosemary. Really I am." I sank down on the sofa. "Have a good night."
It took a while for Rosemary to settle down but eventually the cabin was quiet. Although I was actually quite tired, I felt too wired with energy to sleep and so there I was in near total darkness, just a bit of light coming from the woodstove fire, and surrounded by spirits who were closing in. The night was their time to come out and play. I didn't doubt for a second I was going to have one of the worst nights of my life.
Chapter Four
I don't know how long I'd been lying there before I finally started to drift off, but it seemed like hours. The quiet was so loud I wanted to hum just to offset the noise. The sofa was quite comfortable when I first settled down but now, like the chair, it was beginning to wear off in the cozy department. I began a series of tosses and turns and then worried that Rosemary would hear me and come to investigate. Finally, though, I found a position that was somewhat comfortable and the sleepiness that was steadily overtaking me was nearly to a point that I thought I might actually get some sleep.
Then the nausea hit again and with it a pounding headache. I had to sit up and take deep breaths to combat the heaving that wanted so badly to take place in my stomach. Though it eventually calmed down enough that I could fall back against the sofa in a near stupor, a sound began to penetrate the fog of weariness in my brain and I fought to focus on it.
Scratching noises. I sat up, listening intently, hoping to determine their origin. They were coming from the front door. It was an animal. I was almost sure of it. Even so, as I padded across the floor I imagined all sorts of morbid things before I finally reached the door and opened it.
Tootsie came prancing through as if she owned the place. I stared at her in shock. Dead for two years now, having perished in the car accident that killed my husband Mike, she looked the epitome of health. A springer-spaniel, Tootsie had a gorgeous coat and my fingers began itching with the desire to run through her silken fur. She went to the sofa and sniffed at my blanket then plunked her butt down, waiting for me to join her.
I had to take a look outside just to be sure Mike wasn't out there too but I could see nothing but blackness and feel nothing but the chill damp of fog. I closed the door as quietly as I could and then padded back to the sofa. Tootsie stood as I neared and when I sat down, she rested her head on my lap. The lump in my throat clogged it painfully as a rush of tears blurred my vision. Oh my God. It was so wonderful to see her again. I patted her silky head and then bent to kiss her. Any second I expected her to vanish into thin air but she remained solid and real and I planned on taking advantage of the situation to the fullest extent possible.
I threw my arms around her neck and buried my face in her fur. As I showered her with tearful kisses, she plied me with wet ones, making me laugh softly. It was a joyous occasion and I decided there and then, no matter what else happened, it was all worth it for this special time I was given with Tootsie.
"I have a new dog now, Toots. His name is Alex. You'd like him. He's nothing like you and yet he reminds me of you all the time." Tootsie nuzzled my legs and actually looked happy. I laughed softly, the joy in my heart nearly bursting it beyond capacity. "I also have a cat. His name is Dennis. I think you might even like him too."
Tootsie laid down on the floor and looked at me expectantly. She knew it was bed time and she wanted me to lie down. I did so with some reluctance, knowing when I finally fell asleep she'd disappear. Wanting to stretch our time together as much as possible, I rolled onto my side so I could look at her. We stared at each other until my drowsiness was too much to fight and I fell asleep with my hand resting on her warm body.
A hazy gray light was filtering through the windows when I finally opened my eyes. The cabin was cold and the warm afghan no longer sufficient against the chill. I tugged on it to pull it closer and it literally came apart in my hands. Aghast to have ruined Rosemary's blanket, I sat up and then stared at it in confusion. It was shredded in several places, the yarn unraveling into a tangled mess. Gaping holes peppered it. As I shifted on the sofa, something sharp poked at my back and I turned to look. Horrified alarm began clanging in my brain.
The sofa was barely in one piece! Most of the cushioning was gone, the material covering it ripped and tattered. The springs holding it together were poking out everywhere. I could barely move for I was sagging down through them in a most uncomfortable way. How I managed to sleep without spearing myself I couldn't even figure. It was a major struggle to get up and once I finally accomplished it, I stared at the sofa in stunned amazement. Honestly, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd somehow managed to paddle my way into the Twilight Zone.
The sofa looked like something that a very naughty, over-zealous dog with very busy teeth had got hold of. The afghan as well. How was this possible?
"Do you see now? You must go!"
The whispered voice, just like the one I first heard when I landed on this freaky island, spoke directly into my ear and I swung around to face its owner. Then wished I hadn't. What basically amounted to a skeleton was standing there, it's hideous jaw open as if in a silent scream. And since that was exactly what I felt like doing, I opened my mouth and let rip the fear I could no longer control.
The skeleton grabbed me, its bony hands hard and cold against my skin. Revulsion charged through me and I fought to pull away in a frenzied panic.
"Tess? Oh my dear, please, please stop!"
Rosemary? Since I must have closed my eyes at some point, I now opened them and found that I was lying on the sofa. A very normal, all-the-stuffing-in-tact sofa. And I was covered by a really nice, tightly-knit afghan.
So a nightmare. The relief was overwhelming and I wanted to let out a few tears to vent but Rosemary looked so worried that I blinked rapidly to clear away the gathering moisture and somehow managed a smile. "I guess I was dreaming, Rosemary. I'm sorry if I scared you."
Rosemary sighed in relief and straightened up. "Oh thank goodness. I was so worried when I heard you cry out. I thought the ghosts were after you." She turned away and tended the cold wood stove. Within minutes heat began filtering through the room.
I watched Rosemary without really paying much attention to her for my mind was buzzing with thoughts and speculation. The dream was so real and it really rattled me. What on earth could it possibly mean? I thought about the fact the table kept tipping out the message "dead" over and over and wondered now if it was a warning. Seeing that skeleton was an image I wish I could erase. The fact it had been so close was disturbing. Even though it was a dream, it was real enough to make me feel repulsed by the experience. Sometimes it sucked to be a medium.
And then I remembered Tootsie's visit. My gaze automatically dropped to the floor where she had lain last night and my eyes watered with a clamoring of emotions. It was great to see her again but it also made me miss Alex and Dennis. If only my cell phone was working so I could call Mary or Bonnie and have them go check on them. And then while they were at it, I'd have them come get me off this dang island. Kade must be getting quite worried by now. Hopefully Grace would come early today and perhaps I could persuade her to take me to shore before enjoying her visit with her mother. I'd come back, of course, and do what I could to help Rosemary but I'd be bringing a boat with me next time and making sure people knew where I was.
"What time do you think Grace will be here today, Rosemary?"
"Oh she comes late morning most of the time." Rosema
ry walked to the window and looked up at the sky. "Still overcast but the fog has lifted. The water is a little rough but that won't stop her." Smiling with contentment, she turned with a look of inquiry. "Would you like some breakfast?"
My stomach rumbled in response and Rosemary laughed. "I guess that answers that!"
I followed her into the kitchen and perched on the step stool Rosemary probably used to reach things in the upper cupboards. She pulled a carton of eggs out of the refrigerator and set to work. It was quite relaxing to sit and watch her prepare our meal. Her aura seemed so bright today. She was happy and I was glad for that but wished my own mood could match hers. I was too concerned about the welfare of my animals, Kade's worry over my absence, and the security of my car. I hoped it was okay parked there at the public boat landing. Bucksport didn't have a high crime rate, not like in New York where I used to live, but even so, it could become quite a temptation to someone if they noticed it being there unattended for so long. My purse was in there with the address to my house. Who is to say a thief wouldn't be tempted to see if our house was left unattended as well?
"What's going through your mind to put such a frown there?" Rosemary asked. She picked up two plates containing two perfectly fried eggs, sunny side up, and a couple pieces of toast and headed toward the dining table. "Let's eat and you tell me what's bothering you. Oh, and could you grab our coffees and bring them over?"
I didn't recall seeing Rosemary make coffee and my gaze landed on the mugs with anticipation. I liked tea but nothing beat a cup of coffee in the morning. As I picked the mugs up, I glanced around for the coffee maker. "How did you make the coffee, Rosemary?" And then I saw the jar on the counter. Instant coffee. How interesting. I don't think I'd ever had that before.
"Come eat, Tess." Rosemary waved me over giving me an inquiring look as I set our cups down next to our plates and sank into my chair. "Do you like coffee? I fixed it the same way you have your tea."
"Yes, I love coffee." I took a cautious sip. The flavor was different than perked coffee, not as smooth, but it wasn't unpleasant.
"I'm going to work in the garden after we're done here. I need to get it ready for the winter and I still have a few things growing. I've lots of herbs ... sage and basil, mint, lemon balm and I also have some Swiss chard. Do you like green vegetables?"
We chatted about gardens throughout breakfast and by the time we had the dishes done and the cabin picked up, it was nearly nine and I figured Grace would be here any minute.
Rosemary headed straight out the door the second we were through with household chores and I tagged along right behind her.
Although the cabin had been blessedly quiet of spirit activity, I knew it wasn't because they were gone. The prickles of awareness their presence generated rippled along the skin of my back and sent chills down my spine. Several times I turned around, totally expecting to see the skeleton again and cringing at the very idea of it. But I didn't see anything. I did, however, notice that when Rosemary and I carried our breakfast dishes into the kitchen, the coffee jar was gone from the counter. And what, I thought, are they going to do with that? When spirits got hyped up on coffee what did that make them? Spirited? And was I really making a joke when there wasn't anything amusing about my present situation? In any case, Rosemary didn't seem to notice the missing coffee jar and I decided not to say anything. She was relaxed and happy for the time being and I didn't want to take that away from her.
Although the clouds were still effectively blocking the sun, it was a calm day. The water didn't have so much as a ripple. The trees were still and silent. There were a few birds on the island, however, so we did at least have some noise. Not much, but some.
"There's a family of chipmunks living on the island. They've made a home in a pile of rocks just beyond the trees over there." She waved a hand and I turned to look, catching a glimpse of the rock pile through the shrubbery. "I like to toss them out some goodies now and then."
Rosemary's small garden was located behind the cabin. It was well tended, the rows neat and clear of weeds. As Rosemary said, there were plenty of herbs still growing. I hunkered down next to the large bunches of sage and took an appreciative whiff of the aromatic leaves.
"You know, Rosemary, sage is a great herb for clearing things of negative energy. You do it by burning the leaves. The smoke promotes a positive reaction."
Rosemary knelt next to a row of onions and pulled a few of the bulbs out of the ground. "Do you like liver and onions, Tess?"
Liver? I tried not to show my distaste but Rosemary must have seen something of my feelings because she laughed with genuine amusement. "Oh my dear, you should see your face!" She continued to chuckle as she set the onions aside and used the scissors she brought out with her to cut some of the lettuce growing in a neat row a few spaces down from them. "Well, I guess it's a good thing I didn't serve that for dinner last night!" She nodded toward the sage. "You think we should cut some of it and burn it like you just said?"
"Oh no, the sage has to be dry."
"Well that's no problem. I've already dried quite a bit of it!" She set to work pulling dead plants from her garden plot and tossing them onto a heap of decaying vegetation a short distance away. "I dry lots of herbs. I also do a lot of canning."
"Really? Maybe you'd show me sometime. I would like to try my hand at canning food. It's so much better than buying the stuff they sell in grocery stores." I was living in the country now with several acres of land. Why not try my hand at growing and preserving my own food?
Rosemary swung around to beam at me with approval. "I would be happy to teach you, Tess."
Since there really wasn't much in the way of weeds and Rosemary seemed content to carry out her task, I sat nearby with my knees drawn up, my arms wrapped around them. Although the sun was hidden behind a thick gathering of clouds and damp air hung around us, it was quite peaceful. "You know, Rosemary, today is Halloween."
"I never understood why people celebrate such a thing." Rosemary grabbed a rusting ground rake and began to work over the dirt. "I never took part in it and neither did Grace."
"Do you know the history of Halloween, Rosemary?"
"No, can't say that I do."
Although her tone said she really didn't care to rectify that oversight, I wanted to share it with her anyway. It was important to me and possibly to our situation. "Halloween is actually a tradition that has evolved from many mixed beliefs, religions and superstitions. But underlying all of them is a similar premise ... that it is a night when the boundaries between life and death, our world and the afterlife, is at its thinnest." Since she appeared to be interested though she was doing her best to look like she wasn't, I continued on.
"Deceased family members, some believe, roam the Earth on Halloween night looking for their living relatives. Others believe that souls roam the Earth looking for a body to possess. That's how wearing a costume came about. People sought to disguise themselves from the spirits so they wouldn't become possessed."
"How odd." Rosemary gave a visible shudder. "I'm glad that I didn't take part in it then."
"There are some cultures that welcome the idea of their dead loved ones coming to visit. They prepare feasts for them and burn candles to light their way."
Since Rosemary was creating small piles of unwanted rocks and vegetation from her raking efforts, I slid from my perch and started scooping up the piles, tossing them over to her designated refuse area. "It's also believed that divination is possible more so on this night than any other time of the year ... and that anyone can do it."
"Divination?"
"Foreseeing the future, telling fortunes. Speaking to the dead."
"So you must enjoy Halloween then." Rosemary tossed the rake aside and surveyed her work, nodding with satisfaction. "Now it shall be all ready for next year." She took a step toward the cabin pausing to wave me along ahead of her. "How about a cup of tea?"
Since Rosemary had a cast iron teapot filled with water heating
on top of the wood stove, it didn't take long to prepare our tea and head out to the porch to drink it. There was only one chair, a beat up old metal one, available to sit in and I motioned for Rosemary to take it as I plopped down on the top step.
I don't know what made me think of it but I turned to Rosemary and shared another tidbit about Halloween with her. "In many countries, on Halloween night, bonfires were lit to ward off the evil spirits believed to be roaming the land."
"Well maybe we should consider lighting one then." Rosemary jerked her chin toward the open front door next to her. "Maybe we could get rid of a few ourselves."
I chuckled at the wry quality of her tone and sipped at my tea. It was then, as I cast an idle eye down toward the wharf, that I realized the morning was well past. I glanced at my watch and noted with dismay that it was after one in the afternoon. Where was Grace?
"What time is it?" Rosemary saw my glance and I knew the same question was going through her mind because she stood up and cast a searching glance over the lake.
Not a boat in sight.
It was hard to keep my voice even and controlled. The frustration churning to full force within me wanted to vent. But darn it all to hell, I wanted off this island. "It's just after one."
"Grace is never this late." Worry clouded her eyes and then her fingers began to fuss with the buttons on her sweater. "I don't understand why she hasn't come yet."
Still trying to keep control of my emotions, I stood up and headed toward the water's edge. But this view offered no more than the one from the porch. There wasn't a thing in sight, not even a duck.
Rosemary's Ghosts (Tess Schafer-Medium) Page 8
