Burned to a Crisp

by K A Miltimore

  The girls were out of earshot and there were no customers around. Hedy did something she had never tried before. She called out to Adelaide to ask for help.

  “Adelaide. I’d like to speak with you. About your warnings. About Bren.” Hedy felt foolish speaking this loudly, as if the ghost couldn’t hear her unless she shouted toward the library. She didn’t know for sure but she guessed that Adelaide could hear her from where ever she was in the house.

  “Adelaide. I know you tried to warn me and I know I brushed you off. But please, if you know something, can you tell me? I’m sorry that I scolded you earlier.” She didn’t know if the ghost would hold a grudge or not, but she hoped spirits would be above such petty human behavior.

  “Adelaide? Can you hear me?” Hedy stopped. If Adelaide wanted to appear, she would have. Maybe she was punishing Hedy for taking her to task earlier.

  “Of all the ghosts in the world, I have to share the house with one who pouts.” Hedy whispered under her breath. Across the room, a small crystal salt dish tumbled and broke against the hardwood floor.

  “Adelaide? Was that you? If it was, I’m sorry I said that you pout. I’m just having a hard time right now and could use your help.” Hedy spoke again into the emptiness of the shop but there was nothing speaking back. Now, in addition to my worries, I have a mess to clean up, she thought as she picked up a small whisk and dustpan. Petulant ghost, she thought, without daring again to say the words out loud.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Dinner was a quiet affair. Bren was still upstairs and Mel had left to go home, leaving Anahita and Hedy alone with the menagerie. Hedy tried her best to make small talk with the girl, asking her about her home in Iran and general questions to see if she would share the purpose of her travels, but Anahita wasn’t saying much. She seemed preoccupied and lost in her own thoughts. After helping with the dishes, she asked Hedy if she could be excused to her room.

  “I’m eager for a soak in the tub. I need to replenish myself.” Hedy had noticed that the girl looked a bit more pallid than she had earlier in the day, but Hedy had chalked that up to a day of walking around town and looking for clues. Perhaps it was something more.

  “By all means, my dear. The tub is yours. You’ll find towels on the étagère in the corner, along with any bath salts you might need.”

  “No salts required for me. Just a drop of the waters from my home, from Ovan Lake, is all I need.” She held the filigree bottle at her neck and gave Hedy a smile. “I’ll be up bright and early to help you in the shop, if that is alright.”

  “It certainly is. Thank you, Anahita. Good night. I’m glad you and Mel hit it off.” The girl smiled and said good night as she passed through the kitchen on her way upstairs.

  ✽✽✽

  Hedy had almost forgotten the arrangement to close early when she heard the bell tinkle just before eight o’clock. She walked out from the kitchen and found six women, ranging from late twenties to early sixties, by Hedy’s guess, arranged in a half moon shape in front of the counter.

  “Good evening. We’re here.” The leader of the group smiled and passed several twenty-dollar bills across the counter. “We never discussed price, I hope this is sufficient.”

  Hedy accepted the money and placed it in her apron pocket. “Oh, that is fine, thank you. Feel free to use any table you wish, I will close the front door for any further customers.”

  The women took the one circular table that Hedy had in the shop and began setting up their supplies. A tablecloth, speckled in silver moons and stars came out of a bag on which was printed ‘My other car is a broom’. Larger pillar candles were placed just off center, next to a small crystal bowl containing some kind of powdered herb or incense.

  “Is there a way to dim the lights in here? I supposed I should have asked that before. Bright artificial light isn’t conducive. You might not know this, but spirits do not like electricity.” The leader said as Hedy went to the small panel of push button switches on the wall, smiling as she did so. She was familiar with that bit of ghost trivia. Hedy pressed two of the buttons and the lights were dimmed, leaving the room mostly in shadow.

  “Perfect, thank you.”

  Hedy had no particular opinion about those who wanted to make contact with the spirits; after all, she herself now lived with a ghost, so it seemed like a reasonable activity for those so inclined. She did find the pomp and circumstance of this group of women to be a bit theatrical. All the black trappings and moon imagery seemed a bit like a stereotype out of a movie. The witches she had known were usually solitary types, more kitchen witches or herbalists than those embracing the black pointed hat. Most of the witches she had met had been in New Orleans, so there had been a few who embraced the spectacle. Like Anita, Hedy thought, with a wince. She exited the shop and found a quiet corner in the entry to review some old recipes she had found in an antique shop. She did not want to take that trip down memory lane at the moment; too many painful memories.

  The women had apparently lit their candles because Hedy could see the soft glow of candlelight coming through the archway from the shop. She heard faint murmuring as they began to chant, though the words weren’t really audible. The chanting continued, rising in pitch and volume, and she saw the candlelight flickering as if being fluttered by a breeze. Adelaide was likely nearby. Could the women sense it, she wondered.

  Hedy considered whether she should have mentioned Adelaide to the women. They had suggested the house was haunted but she hadn’t confirmed that Adelaide was a full presence that made herself known. Partly she hadn’t said anything because Adelaide, even in spirit form, had the freedom to appear or not, and certainly not on Hedy’s command, if today was any indication. If she had mentioned Adelaide to the group, they would have expected to meet her and might have been disappointed by the outcome. But there was more to it than that. Hedy had to admit that she wasn’t taking the women and their efforts that seriously, and it surprised her that she was judging their worth by their appearance. She honestly hadn’t expected them to make contact with any spirit, even Adelaide.

  “Well, that’s rather a rotten attitude, old girl. I would have expected better from someone of your maturity and experience.” Hedy murmured to herself and made a note to do better in the future. It was then that she heard the scream.

  She hurried into the shop and saw the women gathered around the table, their hands joined together in a ring. Near the edge of the table was Adelaide, fully visible in the flickering candlelight. One of the women had given the scream but they were all silent now, looking at each other in helpless wonder.

  “This is Adelaide. She lives in the house.” Hedy said calmly, thinking perhaps a proper introduction might help the women feel more at ease with the spirit hovering above the table. Adelaide gazed around the circle before looking directly at the leader of the group.

  “She wants you to speak, Helen.” The woman nearest to the leader stage whispered and gave a soft tap with her elbow into Helen’s side.

  “Yes, alright. I will.” Helen muttered reluctantly before she spoke in her full voice. “Adelaide, thank you for joining our circle. We wish to learn more about you and what it is like on the other side. Tell us your story, dear spirit.” Even afraid, Helen seemed to have a flair for the dramatic and her former intensity was coming back.

  Hedy watched as Adelaide shimmered in and out of focus, as if she were deciding whether to stay or to leave. Hedy herself only knew bits and pieces of Adelaide’s story; the ghost had not spoken about her past and when she did speak, it was usually only in riddles. Hedy had found an old scrapbook in the library but there wasn’t much in there to go one.

  “Within these walls I was born. Within these walls I died. Within these walls I must remain.” Adelaide’s voice was raspy, like dried husks scraping out the sound, but not unpleasant to hear. She spoke more like shuffled paper or hissing tea kettles. The candles continued to flicker though there was no wind in the room. Her form had a faint bluish tinge.
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  “How did you die, Adelaide. Please tell us.” Helen spoke again, her hands were gripping the hands of the women on either side of her. Hedy could see their white knuckles.

  Again, Adelaide paused for a bit, shimmering in and out of focus. Her voice finally broke the stillness. “A flower in bloom, too bold and sweetly scented, plucked by the one who keeps a stern garden, a stem crushed.” Hedy tried to make sense of the riddle. If Adelaide was the bloom that was plucked, who was the stern garden keeper? A stem crushed?

  “Can you tell us who did this to you?” Another woman spoke up and Helen gave her a sharp look. Clearly, Helen was the speaker for the circle.

  “No friend to me, no friend to Eve, no friend indeed. Dark hearted and seeker of sin, preacher of chastity.” Adelaide began to fade, her voice trailed behind her as she spoke. “Sins of the father, curse of the son, woe for the mothers and daughters now gone.”

  The circle waited a few moments before releasing their hands and their breath. Adelaide was gone.

  “That was incredible. Wasn’t that incredible, Helen?” Several women were murmuring their disbelief.

  “It was more than we could have hoped for. To see her appear and hear her voice from the beyond. Amazing. Beyond words. A full apparition.” Helen rose from her chair and looked around the circle. “We have experienced something amazing tonight, sisters. We must close the circle and bless the four corners for what we have learned.”

  Hedy started to leave the entryway, wanting to give them their privacy to conclude their ceremony when the youngest of the group spoke up.

  “Did you know she was strangled, Adelaide, I mean? I read about it online, on a local haunted history page.” The others in the circle looked at the young woman, waiting for more. “She was strangled here in her own home, back in the early 1920s, with a long gold necklace that was wrapped around her throat. They never found the killer.”

  Hedy felt a weight on her shoulders, to think of a young Adelaide murdered in her own home. It must have been terrifying for her. She went back to the entry teary-eyed while the circle chanted softly behind her. A murderer had left behind Adelaide’s spirit, trapped in the house.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Thank you again for letting us use your shop for our gathering. Meeting Adelaide was a rare treat and we certainly look forward to coming back again soon.” Helen shook hands with Hedy as the women filed out of shop. “I suspect you knew we would meet her tonight, didn’t you?”

  “Honestly, I did not know if she would appear or not. She has her own will and does as she pleases, like any teenager then or now. I will say that she has never said that much to me about what happened to her, so I thank you for what I learned tonight. It has given me much to think about.” The ladies shuffled out and Hedy closed the door behind them, latching the bolt. It was going on ten o’clock and Hedy was bone weary.

  “Well, that was quite the soirée, was it not?” Maurice had been observing everything from a dark corner in the entry, perched comfortably on a velvet pillow.

  “Indeed. Now we know a bit more about Adelaide than we did before, which I suppose is a good thing. I hate to think of her dying in this house though. I suppose I could have just assumed that since she haunts this place, but you know me, I don’t like to dwell on the negative. I guess I assumed it was natural causes, not murder.” Hedy began turning off the lights and drawing the curtains.

  “If Adelaide hadn’t wished to speak, those women wouldn’t have raised so much as a whisper from any ghost. You know I am the last to judge, but honestly, they wouldn’t have made contact with anyone with a room full of Ouija boards. Adelaide wanted to speak.”

  “Maurice, I caught myself thinking the same thing about the women and it isn’t our place to judge, but you may be right about Adelaide wishing to be heard. I tried talking to her earlier but she must still be angry with me. She has been disturbed since Bren’s arrival and now tonight, she is speaking in riddles about her passing. She definitely has something on her mind.” Maurice followed Hedy as she made her way to the stairs; she offered a hand to him and he climbed up, grateful for a ride up the many stairs to the third floor. Maurice was not a young chinchilla, though he would never admit that.

  “Perhaps she will tell you more of the story tomorrow. In any event, what are you going to do about the salamander? Do we need to worry? Two fires as soon as he comes to town seems a bit too coincidental.” Hedy was quiet for a few steps before answering the chinchilla.

  “I honestly don’t know, Maurice.” They made the rest of the climb to the third floor in silence. Maurice hopped down at the top of the stairs and made his way into the cozy burrow he had created in the corner behind a wing back chair. Hedy bid him good night and headed into her own room.

  Hedy had claimed the full attic as her bedroom as soon as moving into the house, although it had required the addition of a bathroom. She loved the angled ceilings and dormer windows, the small rise of steps that led to a large open space. The space suited her well, with her bed juxtaposed against one of the angled walls, an expansive wardrobe instead of a standard closet, and a cozy loveseat with a stack of books begging to be read. It was her favorite room in the house, even more than the kitchen, and that was saying something. Normally, it was a refuge from anything and everything; the menagerie was under strict instruction to stay out of the room. This was Hedy’s oasis.

  But tonight, her room gave her no rest. She sat on the edge of her bed and chewed thoughtfully on her thumbnail. She liked a house in order - unusual, strange, even peculiar was fine, but ultimately there was order. Right now, her house was definitely not in order.

  “This is ridiculous. I am just going to talk with him and get to the bottom of this tonight.” Hedy slipped on her dressing gown and headed back down to the second floor. Zelda was sleeping, or doing a good impression of sleep, in a chair placed between Bren’s room and Anahita’s. Hedy gave a soft rap on the door with her knuckles and waited to hear movement. She knocked again and still she heard nothing.

  “He’s not in there.” Zelda murmured quietly before curling back up.

  Hedy tried the knob and it twisted easily. She entered the room and immediately was struck by the strong smell of smoke and ash. The clothes resting on a small footstool near the door were the source of the smell. No doubt these were what Bren had worn when he was exploring the site of the first fire. She would offer to wash them tomorrow, she thought.

  Otherwise, the room look mostly undisturbed. The bed had not been slept in, which didn’t surprise her. The whole purpose of the stone chaise lounge was to give him a place to rest that was not combustible. She felt the stone and it was warm to the touch. Turning to exit the room, she noticed a bright pink disposable coffee cup in the trash by the bathroom. Picking it up, she could easily read Sandy Bottoms with a lipstick kiss print, stamped on the side.

  “It was terrible coffee and they charged six dollars for it.” Bren was standing in the doorway, holding a plate of leftover pasta.

  “Oh, yes, sorry. I’m not spying in your room, really. Well, I am, but unintentionally, I promise. I came down to speak with you and you weren’t here.” She placed the cup back into the garbage can.

  “I have no secrets. Well, at least none that would be found out in a small wastebasket. I missed dinner so I thought I would fix myself a plate.” He came into the room and set the plate on the edge of the dresser.

  “No, that’s fine. Really. Again, I’m sorry to be in here without you. I just had something on my mind and I guess that made me lose my better judgment. I’ll leave you to your dinner.” She headed toward the door but he was blocking the entrance.

  “No, please don’t go. You have questions, please let me answer them. I prefer no secrets or doubts between us. You want to know why I have the coffee cup from the stand in my garbage.” Hedy felt so awkward but she needed to ask him what she came for.

  “Well, yes, although I didn’t know about the cup when I came down here. I heard that some
one who fit your description was seen at the coffee stand before it burned down and they were asking questions, questions that sounded strange in light of the fire. I wanted to know if it was you.”

  “Hedy, everything I told you before was true. What I didn’t tell you was I actually went to the coffee stand before I went to the site of the first fire. I went there not because I wanted to set it on fire, but because I could smell the danger around the place. It sounds crazy, well crazier than anything else I have told you, but I didn’t want you to think I was some kind of… crackpot, yes that’s the word.”

  Hedy looked at him and wanted to believe him but she couldn’t quite manage to keep the skepticism off her face.

  “I know, it does sound crazy. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Let me try to explain.” He gestured for her to sit down and she perched on the edge of the bed. He was still between her and the doorway.

  “Salamanders can smell fire, as I’ve told you. Elementals in general have a deep connection to their element and they can see and smell and even taste things that relate to it. All that is true. But for me, I seem to have a sixth sense that is even rare among salamanders. I can smell fire before it even starts, before match strikes tinder, before the first flickers begin. If a place is soon to be consumed by fire, I can smell it. I say smell but it really isn’t that - you can’t really smell something that hasn’t happened yet. But that is the closest I can call it and have it make sense for you. I breathe in the danger and I just know that it is coming.”

  “And that is what happened last night? You could smell that the coffee stand was in danger? If that is true, why didn’t you warn the girls working there?” She was starting to get angry to think that Bren could have prevented the tragedy and did nothing.