by Haley Harper
Late the night of the third day after the find, Karen slipped into the bedroom, and sank heavily onto her bed. She clicked on a small bedside lamp. The circle of warm light felt comforting to Shannon who had been tossing around in the sleeping bag, trying to get comfortable. Sleeping, or feigning sleep, seemed ridiculous so she sat up.
"Oh!" Karen let out a small gasp, and sat up straighter on the bed. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't. What's going on down there?" Shannon could still hear the muffled noise of raised voices. She hadn't been able to make out what they were saying so she'd read part of the diary while she waited for her friend.
With a sigh, Karen flopped onto her back, covering her eyes with her arm, and shook her head. "They're all fighting. My lawyer says the deed makes the property mine, but the lawyer from the county says it’s questionable."
Shannon grabbed her pillow and the diary, and climbed onto the bed beside Karen. "What are you going to do? What do you want to do?"
Her friend moved her arm away from her eyes and stared at her in disbelief. "You know, you're the first person to ask me that."
"So? What do you want to do?"
Karen seemed to consider the question. She massaged her fingertips across her temples. "I don't know. Honestly, this house is mine, clear and free. There's no way I'm letting any of them mess with that. And as for the mine, I don't care. It might be interesting to have it reopened, but I don't think it's going to be profitable. The work it would take to fix it and get it up to operating code wouldn't be repaid for years. And that would only be if the mine still had ore."
"Couldn't you send someone in to find out before you did the work?" Shannon had no idea what she was talking about, but her writer's instinct told her that's what she'd do if this was her story.
"Probably."
"By the way, I was reading the diary while you were downstairs. You should take a look at it too."
"I don't think I have the energy to read. My eyes feel like they're going to fall right out of their sockets."
Shannon pursed her lips. "Then I'll read some of it to you before we go to bed. How does that sound?"
"Heavenly, actually." Karen scooted up to her pillow, and slipped under the comforter.
"Okay, listen to this one," Shannon began. "August twenty-fourth, eighteen seventy-eight. Eleanor brought home that hunk of quartz five days ago, and already we are at odds with the Masons. Julia claims that she saw the stone first. Our girl, of course, refutes this claim. And we believe her. She, therefore we, are the rightful owners. None of that matters, though, if I can't find the spot and stake a land claim so I can mine the area.”
Karen yawned. "That's good." She sounded confident, convicted. "That just backs up our right to the land, to the mine."
"Mmm-hmm." Shannon leaned back against her pillow. She had more to say, but the thoughts had jumbled together, and she was too tired to sort them out. Besides her friend had already drifted off to sleep. One thing she did know, though, was that she was going to need to read through the rest of the diary before one of the lawyers asked her for it. She had a sneaking suspicion that it contained the key to her new story, and she wasn't going to let that pass her by.
Chapter Six:
“Mom, I don’t want to do this,” Shannon protested.
“I do,” Karen said in a contradictory way. She smirked as Shannon gave her a dirty look. “Can you believe that in all the time I’ve lived here I’ve never been on this tour?”
Shannon gave her friend a funny look. “Yes, you have. We went that one summer we came out here to stay with your grandmother.”
“We did, didn’t we? I’d forgotten that. We were only seven. Wow. That was right after we’d moved to Minneapolis, and Gran wanted to see if she could stand to use the house as a summer home. Of course, she couldn’t.”
“I wonder if it’s changed at all since then,” Myra said. “You girls are so lucky to discover the richness of the spirit world so young.”
Shannon was about to chime in, when their tour guide, a bored looking high school girl with a high blond ponytail, came up and called the group together. “We’re going to start right here in beautiful down town Keystone,” the girl said in a monotone. She had a guidebook cracked open in front of her. “My name is Kylie and I’ll be your guide today.”
Kylie led them down the board walk that had been swept clear of snow, but which still had small purple chunks of rock salt littering the way. “On this side we have the original location of the Broken Spoke saloon where many gunfights claimed the lives of prospectors much too soon. Who knows how many lost souls still roam their old stomping grounds?”
“Could she not sound more excited?” Shannon whispered to Karen, who giggled in response.
“I do feel a presence here,” Myra broke in.
“Oh no, please Mom, not now,” Shannon whispered, her horror growing as she saw her mom step into the center of the small group.
Kylie looked surprised but allowed the older woman some space. “A man is calling to me. He says that he died on this spot during a card game in eighteen eighty-three.”
“I think she’s just reusing the history of Wild Bill Hickok to her own gain,” Shannon muttered, but this time Karen waved her off. She could see that her friend was fascinated by Myra’s words.
Myra continued, “He says his name was Bill or Beau or Bark. That’s it. Bark. The other guys called him that because he’d use the bark from trees as his sifter while he was gold hunting.”
“Is anyone buying this?” Shannon received another annoyed look from her best friend. She sighed and fell to the edge of the group while her mother continued to commune with the spirit of Bark the prospector.
“He came to the Broken Spoke for a drink after a particularly hard, cold day, and got into a card game that turned bad in a hurry. Apparently he began to chat up another man about buying out his claim. The other man didn’t appreciate being bothered, and he shot him. Now that’s what I call barking up the wrong tree.” Myra gave a little bow as the other members of the group clapped and chuckled.
Shannon knew that her mother lived for moments like this, when she could be the center of attention. She just wished it didn’t have to happen in the middle of this trip. While she answered people’s questions, Kylie moved everyone along, seeming a little less sure of what was written on the pages of her guidebook. She kept sneaking peaks at Myra, and Shannon knew that the teenager would ask the other woman to lead the group eventually. She’d seen it happen before. Then Myra would walk through whatever area they were in improvising various stories to scare and titillate the tour takers.
Every few feet, Kylie would stop to read from her guidebook. “If we were to continue up the hill we would get to Mount Rushmore. Have any of you been up there yet?” She paused as she looked around the group. A few people raised their hands, and Kylie offered us a short smile. It was the first time she seemed relax. “If you aren’t aware they used dynamite to blast up there on the mountain. Several men fell to their deaths, although you won’t learn that up there. And there’s a rumor that one man got pushed off the top of George Washington. There are also rumors that someone stole a crate of dynamite, and then used it to kill dozens of people over the years. Maybe our resident medium can offer her opinion?”
Myra’s smile widened as she stepped back into the middle of the group. Her eyes closed as she concentrated. The pose was classic Myra, and Shannon had to fight to keep from rolling her eyes. As much as she loved her mother this was one aspect of their lives that she wished didn’t exist.
Suddenly Myra’s eyes opened wide, and she looked around them not really seeing anyone in the group. “There’s a man who still walks among you who has the answers you seek.” That was all she said, speaking in a high tinny voice, which caused several people to gasp. Her eyes closed again, and when she opened them she looked stunned.
Instead of her usual hype, Myra gazed around the group, and said, “That was different. I think
perhaps we should move along.”
Shannon exchanged a glance with Karen, and she could tell that her friend felt the same way, concerned and confused. That was a bit more intense than Myra’s usual rantings. Kylie looked like she might cry, but she seemed to grit her teeth and moved the group along. They crossed the street, and slipped behind the faux storefronts to one of the tiny side streets that led up the steep face of a mountain. At the base of the road, Kylie stopped.
The teenager cracked open her guidebook again, and began to read. “The gold rush of eighteen seventy-six brought many unsavory characters to these parts. Many of the men and women who descended on the area had criminal histories. A gun was most often used to settle disputes. One of the oldest disputes centers around the now defunct Fancy Free gold mine.”
The name of her family’s mine caused Karen to grab Shannon’s hand, and both women looked at each other. Shannon held her breath to hear what came next. She felt like they were piecing together patches for a quilt, and were missing several important colors. What information they did have was incomplete. She just couldn’t figure out what it was that they didn’t know.
“There’s great tragedy in relation to the Fancy Free,” Myra broke in. The group turned to look at her, and for the first time in a long time Shannon felt a chill at the expression on her mother’s face. Myra looked directly at Karen. “You need to find the man who still walks among you. He can answer all your questions.”
It was the same thing she had said earlier, but now Shannon almost believed that her mother might be communing with some spirit from the great beyond. From the look on Karen’s face, Shannon knew she believed it wholeheartedly. Whatever the truth was, Shannon could have sworn that she saw her mother wink before the group moved on.
Chapter Seven:
Shannon turned over when she felt Karen’s weight on the mattress. Her friend had been quiet since the tour, and Shannon wasn’t quite sure how to broach the subject. She felt responsible for her mother’s antics. She’d been mulling over Myra’s performance since dinner.
“Do you believe your mom has psychic powers?” Karen asked, tucking her arms behind her head.
“Honestly? I don’t know what to think. What about you?”
“Don’t laugh, but I think I believe in her. She seemed to be in contact with someone on that tour.”
Shannon peered at her friend through the darkness. She didn’t want to say anything that would hurt her friend’s feelings, but she had seen her mom’s performances more than once. Instead she reached under her pillow, pulled out the diary, and clicked on the bedside light.
“Let’s not talk about my Mom, ok? What if I read some more of the diary to you?” she asked. “I found a part that I think must have been written by your grandfather.”
Karen blinked in the soft glow of light that had pooled around them, but her face lit up, and Shannon knew she’d made the right decision in changing the subject. Thumbing through the pages, she found the first entry that had been made in different script.
“April fourth, nineteen-fifty-eight. I trekked out to the woods today. Father told me not to. Again. Doesn’t he realize that I’m a man of twenty-six? He can’t boss me around. I’m not rebelling either like the young fools I see driving around town on those motorcycles. They all go up the mountain to see the faces, and then come roaring down again just to scare the ladies on their way to church. Sickens me. Truly it does.
I’ve signed on for another round of blasting at the Crazy Horse monument. It’s quite a hike over, but using those explosives makes me feel alive. Father doesn’t approve of that either. Wants me to be a banker like he is. Fool. Doesn’t he know that’s not the way the world works anymore?
I’ve never told him, but my real aim is to find the mine. He won’t let me see the deeds and documents pertaining to the Fancy Free, but I know he has them. Probably locked in a safe deposit box at the bank. Once I find it, I’m going in. I’ll prove to them all that we can find gold there again. The Fancy Free used to be the second most productive mine in the Hills. I still don’t have anything but a vague idea of what happened to it. If I hadn’t found grandmother’s diary here, I’d never have known that we lay true claim to the site. We filed, not those vile roughnecks who have tried every which way to steal it from us from the day of discovery.”
“Wow,” Karen murmured, sounding a lot like a lost little girl. Shannon wanted to wrap her best friend in a huge crushing hug, but she sensed that the other woman needed her space. “That has to be Grandpa writing. I can almost hear his voice over yours as you read. It’s eerie, you know?”
Shannon nodded, flipping through the remaining pages. “Do you think he’ll leave any clues as to what happened to him in the end? It makes me crazy to think that he, in his generation, felt like the other family was still trying to steal the mine.”
“Well, they probably were. Just because both girls found the gold nugget, that doesn’t give both families equal claim to the mine. If my family filed the claim first, that’s that. Fair’s fair.” Karen had her jaw set at a stubborn angle.
Gently Shannon asked, “Yes, but what do you suppose became of the other family? There aren’t really any clues in this century, are there?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean anything,” Karen said. Shannon knew she was in a losing battle and didn’t want to fight with her friend.
“Do you want me to read anymore?”
“Not tonight, but, Shannon? Thanks for everything you’ve been doing.”
“Any time, Kare, you know that. And who knows, maybe this time we’ll get to meet our own ghost and solve our very own mystery,” Shannon said as she clicked off the light. As she stared up at the dark ceiling she had to wonder what they had gotten themselves into.
Chapter Eight:
"Hey, I know you."
Shannon turned toward the familiar voice, and gave a half smile as her stomach fluttered. Calvin Moore. He looked just as handsome as he had the last time she'd seen him, but this time she was by herself. She'd had to reassure Karen that she was fine walking around Keystone on her own that night after dinner. The lawyers had decided to have another meeting; this one included a reporter that Karen's brother, Jack had befriended. Shannon had been invited to stay but she had no interest in witnessing more of the tense nastiness that had been going on since the deed had been found.
"How are you?" She smiled at him as he dropped onto a bench beside her.
He shrugged. "Can't complain. Just out getting some fresh air. Holidays with the family can get a little crazy, if you know what I mean."
"I do," she replied, distracted by the warmth of his body emanating through his coat. “As a matter of fact, my mother has decided that she’s pursuing your grandfather. So it doesn’t really get much crazier than that.”
Calvin’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, and Shannon had to laugh. “So what would that make me if things work out between them? Your cousin? Your uncle? Wow, I had no idea. My granddad is a pretty secretive guy.”
“Yeah? My mom hasn’t actually told me that much about him. I don’t want to hear any sordid details of her affairs, and once she starts talking those kinds of things are always inevitable.” She shook her head, and tightened the scarf around her face.
They lapsed into silence, and Shannon tried to focus on the twinkling Christmas lights wound around the pillars of the boardwalk. She'd always loved that part of the holiday season the most, the lights. She loved how they twinkled and softened the darkness of the winter season. She had always found the warm glow of the lights so comforting. She loved that the lights could be used as a metaphor for the joy of the holidays pushing back the sadness and despair in the world, just like the lights pushing back the darkness.
"So what have you been up to while your Mom’s been out chasing eligible bachelors? I imagine it's been pretty crazy at Karen's house, with her finding the deed and all." Calvin's voice was definitely casual but in a forced way. She figured the curiosity was driving hi
m nuts just as it was all the locals who continued to loiter in front of the big house, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of history being made.
Shannon laughed. "Yes, it's been completely insane."
"So, if you don't mind my asking, how did they find the deed? My granddad told me that it's been lost for years."
"It was tucked into an old diary that belonged to Eleanor's father. She's the little girl who found the rose quartz." As soon as the words left her mouth, Shannon felt a moment of panic. She shouldn't have said anything, especially to someone who was nearly a stranger. Despite her best intentions, she hadn't finished the diary yet, and she wasn't ready to give it up. If Calvin decided to sell the story to a reporter the family's lawyers would definitely want the book. She swallowed hard, and waited for him to ask more about the volume.
Instead, Calvin frowned, and turned his gaze across the street. "Wasn't there another little girl with Eleanor? I think her name was Julie or Julia?"
"Julia," Shannon confirmed softly. "They were best friends."
"It seems kind of crazy how this is all unfolding," Calvin commented.
Shannon nodded, relieved that he didn't seem interested in the diary. She felt comfortable sharing most of the information she knew because the locals seemed to know everything anyway. The cold from the bench was seeping through her jeans, and numbing the backs of her legs. She wondered if it would be okay to ask him if he wanted to go to the café for a cup of coffee. Karen was far too preoccupied to focus on anything but her family and the deed and all that it had brought with it. Shannon didn’t think she was really interested in Calvin anyway. So what if she decided to have a little fling? She'd only be here for another week. Just as she was about to say something a train whistle blared, breaking the cozy stillness of the night.
Calvin's face lit up as he smiled, and turned to her. "Hey, that's the 1880 Train. They're doing their Christmas run right now. I know this sounds crazy, but do you want to go? My treat. We'll get tickets now, ride to Hill City and back. It'll be a lot warmer than talking on this bench."
