"That's what bothers me the most." Andrea rubbed her forehead. "I can't control it because I'm not aware of it. I hoped you'd say the same kind of thing has happened to you."
"Afraid not." Dolores frowned. "Sometimes I feel like a sculpture takes over and I don't know how it'll turn out till it's done. Once in a while I almost feel like the piece has already been made somewhere else and I'm just doing the follow-up." She shrugged uncomfortably. "But I've always been there for the process."
They sat in silence. The afternoon sun split the shadows pooling in the room. Dolores sighed. "What about apparitions?"
"What?"
"Spirits of the dead. Have you ever felt them?"
"No."
"Members of my family have." Dolores picked at dried clay under one nail. "Sometimes spirits linger behind. Maybe you're one of the people who can sense them."
"You mean these sketches might be of someone who's haunting me?" Andrea's voice rose. "Or possessing me?"
Dolores stood up, her face pale. "Not possession. That's something totally different."
The distinction escaped Andrea. The idea of a spirit forcing her to draw pictures was almost worse than thinking she was crazy.
Dolores paced to the door and back, hugging her elbows, shoulders hunched. "I think you ought to talk to the others. This is too creepy to keep to yourself. We've all had different experiences. One of them might know something."
Andrea grimaced. "I can just hear Kerry."
Dolores nodded. "Kerry's skeptical, but she's one of the smartest women here. What made you come to me? I sure haven't helped much."
"Because you're an artist. I hoped you'd recognize what I was talking about."
Dolores leaned toward her, compassion in her eyes. "I don't know what's happening to you. You have to figure it out or it'll make you crazy. Tell the others all of it, especially Rose," she urged. "She doesn't judge people. And she already saw you painting, right? Let me call her now, okay?" Dolores reached for the extension on the end table. At Andrea's nod, she pressed two numbers.
* * *
Rose entered her office and shut the door behind her, leaning against it to keep the rest of the world on the other side. What a day. Finding Andrea painting in her sleep had only been the beginning. Construction details and Aura Lee's burbling over paranormal activities had kept her from stringing two thoughts together. Now that she could, there was only one question in her mind: did she understand anything that happened over the last twelve hours?
During the séance last night she'd had a feeling, as if someone else had joined them in the room. Was that authentic? Had she given in to the atmosphere engineered by Belinda Smythe?
And there was Andrea. Seeing her painting while she was asleep had scared the hell out of her. All reference points had been blasted to kingdom come.
After a few moments, the calm of the room began to work its spell. Rose took a deep, cleansing breath and let her gaze wander over the shelves. Half the room was given to books and files, the other half to her small dish fountains and the stones and containers that went into their making. Sunlight from the south window glittered from the amethyst geode in an onyx bowl, shimmering through the water trickling over purple crystals.
Rose smiled at the play of light and water and crossed the carpeted floor to her desk. As she pulled out her chair, she saw what was on the blotter.
Last night before the séance she'd finished her latest fountain. Now the indigo bowl was empty. Around its edge were the rocks she'd used: chunks of crystalline tinged with yellow; green chlorite and milky quartz. The florist's jewels serving as base for the rocks were divided into four mounds, one at each compass point around the bowl. The small pump was upside down, and the cord was neatly coiled beside it.
Rose sank into her chair and stared at the collection. She didn't usually lock her door, so anyone could have come in and rearranged the pieces of her fountain. Who would want to? Why?
At the soft knock on the door Rose called, "Just a minute." Without thinking she pulled a towel off the shelf and threw it over the remains. "Come in."
When Aura Lee entered, Rose frowned at the trouble in her face. "What is it now?"
Aura Lee settled onto the ottoman, her flowered caftan billowing around her. Her green eye shadow lent her a ghoulish air. "About last night... we may have exposed ourselves to danger."
"What do you mean?"
"We didn't close the circle. Belinda tried, but no one paid attention." Aura Lee twisted her fingers together. "We created the circle for the spirits to come to us in safety, but after you do that, you have to close it again. We all scattered when the wind blew the plastic off that hole in the roof. Then I started thinking after the business with Andrea's painting this morning. We left the door open to the other world, Rose. The spirits we called could still be in this house. They could cause problems. Maybe even Andrea's... oddness."
Rose suppressed a shiver. Spirits on the loose were the least of their worries. She leaned her head on her hand and tried to think. Protection. The word surfaced slowly in her mind and she pondered it.
"Rose?" Aura Lee cast her a worried look. "Are you all right?"
Rose straightened her spine and took a deep breath. She could use this. "You've brought up an excellent point. We need to explore how we can protect ourselves against... whatever you call them."
"Manifestations." Aura Lee's expression was thoughtful. "You're right, we need protection. There are steps to be taken: binding spells, fortifying measures against evil. Not that I consider Cottie evil," she inserted hastily. "But Belinda did issue a pretty general invitation before she got to the specific summons. There's no telling who showed up." She surged to her feet. "I'll get to work on this right away."
She was halfway to the door when Rose recalled the spell Aura Lee had devised earlier in the week. "No fires, okay?"
Aura Lee opened her mouth, and then shut it again. She nodded but her gaze slid away from Rose's face. She slipped out the door.
Rose sighed. No doubt the very best protection spells involved fire. She'd have to keep an eye out. When the telephone beside her buzzed, she picked up the receiver. "This is Rose." She listened, creases deepening between her eyes, as Dolores told her about Andrea.
"She's agreed to talk with you and I think you need to hear what she's saying." The careful emphasis in Dolores's voice was far more compelling than her words.
"I'll be there in a couple of minutes." Rose replaced the receiver and scowled. She ripped a piece of paper from the pad and scrawled where she would be on it.
As she left, Rose taped the note on the door. Dolores sounded worried. "Please," Rose whispered. "Let things settle down. Please." She tried the knob to make sure it was locked.
Chapter 14
Kerry finished reading an on-line article about one of America's well-known mediums. She'd made notes as she read, but when she glanced at the notebook where exclamation points were scattered among scrawled obscenities, she closed the website. How could Aura Lee stomach such baseless, unscientific garbage?
According to the website author, more than thirty-six spirits had appeared to her over a fifteen-year career, and she had guided all to their rightful places on The Other Side. That was hard enough to swallow, but some of the grateful posts from readers were painful to see.
She pushed herself out of her chair and stretched, pausing to rub the sore muscle in her right shoulder. Probably from hammering the plastic sheeting over that hole in the roof, she thought. No matter. It had been satisfying to bang on something after that séance.
From the articles she'd found so far, Belinda Smythe wasn't so bad. She hadn't led them in hymns or spells, and she at least appeared sincere. Kerry was surprised to find in herself a shred of concern over Belinda's unmet pleas that they close the door opened for spirits to come through. "I am definitely losing it."
She unlocked the desk drawer and pulled out Jessamine's diary. After the otherworldly stuff, reading an historical do
cument would be a relief.
July 17, 1909
Dear Diary,
Mr. T. came to the wash shed while I was scrubbing clothes. He told me to finish and get ready to go to Chautauqua for one of the sessions. He signs up for the lecture series every year because his wife liked them, but he doesn't go much himself. He said today's topic, Creating Domestic Serenity, wasn't for him. Since I'm learning to keep house, he said I would benefit from it. I thanked him and asked if Mrs. Selkirk would mind if I went. "I'll mind if you don't," he said. That made me smile.
The speaker talked about how women need to make harmony in the home, but I don't think he really likes women. His eyes were mean. Mama always said to listen for the truth behind what people say. Prof. Elginetter's talk was about being master in the home. Harmony to him is that women should obey men. Papa said a man who wants a woman to be less just to make him feel like more isn't much of a man. That's a description of the Professor! Judging by the faces in the audience, I wasn't the only person to feel that way.
After the lecture, I talked to some of the women there. They were very civil and asked after Mr. T. I left for home and passed Mr. Sturtevant's photography tent, and the wind snatched up my scarf. Who came out the tent door but Mr. Haslett! He ran for my scarf and brought it back. I thought he might not remember me. But he did, addressing me by name and lifting his hat. He said he'd been arranging with Mr. Sturtevant for a photographic portrait of himself taken out of doors.
Then a gust of air blew his hat off and he had to chase it. He was laughing and his hair was wild. His eyes are dark as blackthorn sloe. He is taller than I am and when he smiles, his whole face glows. He is a most well favored man. He asked if I would like his company on the walk home and though I felt a little brazen, I said yes!
Mr. Haslett asked me about myself, and when I told him about losing Mama and Papa, his fine eyes shone with sympathy. When I explained my job at Mr. T's, he was not put off, but said it was honest work. I wish the walk had lasted longer, but he said he was expected elsewhere. When we said goodbye, he took my hand and held it with both of his own. I was afraid that he would notice my pulse beat faster. I have never felt—
Kerry blinked, aware of a sound, and sat up straight. The hair she'd been coiling around her index finger reversed itself. Had the doorbell rung? "Just a minute," she called, and pushed out of her chair. She hustled barefooted through the living room, stopping to fumble for the keys on the foyer table.
She opened the door to an empty hallway. Hearing a slam, she trotted to the main door. As she swung it open, she saw a Federal Express truck outside the gates, the driver writing on a clipboard before climbing behind the wheel. She didn't see any packages. If he'd brought her Amazon order, he'd left it at the other house. Delivery people got them mixed up all the time.
Aura Lee came around the side of the main house and strode across the courtyard toward the other associate house, her green caftan fluttering like dragonfly wings.
Kerry pushed the door shut. She'd check on the books, another interruption. Not that she'd actually been working. Jessamine's diary was too much fun to be called work. Reading her tiny writing, though, was like trying to decipher the Dead Sea scrolls. She returned to the study, stubbing her toe on a sofa leg. Where the hell were her slippers?
She finally found them under her desk, and as she slid into them, her stomach growled. She'd forgotten breakfast. Heading for the kitchen, she heard the loud squeak of a hinge and she peered through the wooden slats in time to see Noreen scurry through the main door of the other associate house.
She let the slat settle back into place and frowned at the wall. What was going on over there?
Thoughtful now, Kerry sought clothes in her bedroom. She had the perfect excuse for dropping in. Hadn't the FedEx man just made a delivery? Wasn't she expecting an order? She pulled on jeans and found a polo shirt in the dresser. I'll see what they're up to and then I'll come back and get serious about the boxes from the attic. And breakfast.
* * *
Outside Dolores's living room window, water danced in the courtyard fountain, catching the sun. Andrea was aware of the attention of the Wisdom Court women seated behind her, could feel their stares.
Rose broke the silence. "Andrea, do you mind going over it one more time? Obviously, I should've called a meeting."
"It's okay." It was uncanny how they'd all gravitated to Dolores's place after the phone call asking Rose over to hear Andrea's story. Within fifteen minutes of her arrival, Aura Lee, having read the note Rose left, was knocking at the door with a message from a former Wisdom Court associate in Italy. At irregular intervals thereafter the others had trailed in, all of them except Kerry ostensibly looking for Rose.
The portfolio was open on the coffee table and the papers rustled as the women looked through the sketches. Andrea fought against growing frustration. Each time she explained about the drawings the story sounded flatter. How could she get across the dread in her now when she looked at her own work? How could she make them understand how she felt? She'd been at Wisdom Court for all of three days. They didn't know her yet. Outside the window a crow landed at the edge of the fountain.
"So, what happened then?"
Andrea glanced over her shoulder. Kerry had two sketches in her hand. "I drew the sundial you liked so much." She turned back to look out the window. "That was the last sketch so far. No memory of it, of course. Then there's the painting. Aura Lee and Rose can describe that. I've done a fair amount of work since I got here. I just don't remember any of it."
"So that's it?"
It was the tone of Kerry's question that got to Andrea. "If you don't count seeing Neal transform into the mystery man. That was good for a laugh."
"What?"
Andrea turned around to face them. Aura Lee, seated beside Elizabeth on the leather sofa, was nearly vibrating with excitement. Noreen had leaned against the arm of the couch to look at the drawings.
Elizabeth's dark eyes were filled with compassion, and Rose watched her calmly. It was only in Kerry that Andrea saw skepticism. With relief, she realized they weren't all automatically rejecting her account.
Andrea let out a breath. "I'm so new here you don't understand how oddly I've been acting. Almost passing out when I first got here," she specified, "and running out of Dolores's show. I assume you think I'm a head case. Though only Kerry's as much as said that to my face."
"Well, jeez," Kerry said in self-defense, "what do you expect when what you describe is so irrational?"
Andrea pressed her temples with her fingertips, trying to erase the throb behind them. "For what it's worth, most of the people I know consider me a model of stability."
Rose smiled at her encouragingly. "Andrea, we don't think you're crazy."
"But it's a legitimate question."
Andrea stiffened at the somber note in Kerry's voice.
"You mentioned altitude sickness, and the stress of moving here. You miss your daughter. You're trying to adjust to a new life on your own. You don't recall the sketches you've drawn. I think that's what shrinks call 'dissociative behavior.'"
Elizabeth shook her head in irritation. "Kerry, you're just lookin' at the surface here." She glanced at Andrea. "I, for one, think there are other reasonable explanations."
"No, she's right." Andrea rubbed her upper arms, suddenly cold. "Everything she said is possible. That's why I didn't tell you about it. Even I've been afraid I'm losing my mind. Don't blame Kerry for being logical."
Kerry nodded. "It's an obvious option."
"The obvious is better than obvious avoidance of it," Noreen uttered.
Kerry rolled her eyes. "Whose is it?"
"H.W. Fowler and F.G. Fowler, Modern English Usage."
"I don't pretend to be an expert in psychology," said Rose, "but I have a hard time equating what I've learned about you and any severe mental disorder."
Noreen nodded. "On an emotional level, I agree. However, neither of our opinions is scientific. W
hile we're exploring Andrea's claims, we have to keep in mind the possibility of her debilitation."
It was her scholarly objectivity that made Andrea laugh. When the others stared at her, she giggled even harder. "Something about the phrasing," she said when she'd caught her breath. "On the one hand, you're willing to consider what I've told you isn't the result of insanity. On the other, I can see you all waiting for me to start babbling." Their blank faces quenched her humor. "Hey, I haven't had a genuine laugh since I got here."
"Oh, what nonsense." Aura Lee glared at the others in disapproval. "You can't do this halfway. Either you're willing to withhold judgment or you're not." Her face softened as she looked back at Andrea. "What I do know is that everyone here will fight to help you. That's the way it is at Wisdom Court."
Kerry had already moved beyond the emotion of the moment. "Go back to the bit about Neal changing into somebody else. What did you mean?"
"I mean that one minute I saw Neal, and the next minute he looked like the man in the sketches." Just saying it made Andrea tremble inside. "It's one of the scariest things I've ever seen, especially—" She stopped.
"Especially what?"
"I was upset yesterday when I went up to Chautauqua, and I didn't notice the storm coming. When I got to the Amphitheater, I thought I saw something—I don't know what it was, but I froze. Then Neal barreled in, and he gave me holy hell for being out in the open with lightning overhead. He dragged me to the rocks and we took shelter." She remembered the warmth of his body against hers after the chilling wind.
Elizabeth studied her. "And then?"
"He was furious—scared, too, probably—and the thunder was deafening. We were yelling at each other, and—"
"And he kissed you?" Noreen raised her brows at Andrea's surprise. "Any man worth his salt would."
Andrea's cheeks felt on fire. "Yes, he kissed me. I could see him in the lightning. When it flashed again, he wasn't Neal anymore. He had the face of the man in the sketches." Her voice was shaking now. "I saw him, his hair and his eyes. His head was shaped differently. His hair was darker, longer. He didn't have Neal's eyes!" The others regarded her in dismay. "Then it was dark again and he grabbed me. I ran."
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