****
The next afternoon, the sounds of several birds singing woke Katie up from a very sound sleep. She was in one of the bedrooms in her sister’s house. Sissy had permanently decorated every bedroom in the house in a different Halloween theme. Katie looked around and saw that she was in the Ghost Room. Posters, figurines, and books, all with ghostly themes, filled every available space in the room. Even the curtains, the sheets and blankets had ghosts printed on them. Katie closed her eyes and said aloud, “Ha, ha. Very funny Sissy.” She put her hands to her face to wipe the sleep from her eyes and felt the crusted ectoplasmic slime of the ghost from last night.
“Eww!” Katie yelled as she jumped up and headed for the connecting bathroom. This bathroom was shared with the bedroom next door, the Witch Room. Katie turned the hot water on and washed her face. She realized she was still wearing her shoes, socks and pants but no shirt. She reached behind the door for the bathrobes her sister always kept in each bathroom and found instead her shirt on a hanger, freshly laundered. A note was taped to it that said:
“Sorry I disrobed you, but that slimy stuff was icky. Love, Sissy.”
Katie pulled the shirt on and walked into the hall. Tom, her brother-in-law, was busy fixing the hall closet door. It looked like it had split. Katie didn’t know when that had happened, but it didn’t surprise her. She nodded a good morning to him and then went downstairs, where the smell of spiced pumpkin coffee filled her nose. In the kitchen, her sister was humming while she cooked. It sounded like a song from A Nightmare Before Christmas but Katie couldn’t tell since her sister could never carry a tune. She pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and sat down. Her head was cradled in her hands when her sister said, “I made pumpkin biscuits and gravy.”
“Coffee,” Katie said. “Must have coffee.”
A mug of hot coffee soon appeared in front of her, steam gliding up to Katie’s hands. She was grateful for the warmth. She picked up the mug and sipped it. It was delicious.
“It’s pumpkin cider coffee,” Sissy said proudly.
“I taste that.”
“Splenda?”
“No, black is fine with me.”
Katie hesitated then said, “Sissy, we need to talk.”
“That gold guy was neat,” Sissy said, stuffing a cookie into her mouth.
“You shouldn’t have looked at him. You know that.”
“So those are the horsemen you always talk about, huh? I’m glad the ghost in my closet got to go to heaven instead of the other place. What would the neighbors think if I had a hell bound spirit tearing up my cabinets? Red horses would have arrived instead, right?”
“Yes, but did you hear me?”
“What’s the big deal?”
“They don’t like to be seen. Not until it’s time.”
“Hey, he was the one that came to my house.”
“And he may come again, sooner than you think, and it won’t be to collect a ghost.”
“Oh, he collects ghosts? I collect Halloween memorabilia too.”
“Sissy! Listen to me! I’m serious.”
“I had to look,” Sissy said quietly, taking Katie’s small slender hands into her chubby ones. “I had to see what our mom saw when she died.”
“You don’t understand what could happen.”
“I don’t care. Mom has been gone 20 years now, and the pain is still fresh for all of us. I deserved to see.”
“I miss her so much,” Katie said.
Sissy sighed. “I know you do. Probably more than me, but like I told you last night, you can’t let her death ruin your life.”
“But I’ve heard her. Since I began having these awful abilities, I hear her.”
“They are not awful. You are helping lost souls. Mom isn’t a lost soul.”
“I’m certain I’ve heard her.”
“You haven’t heard mother’s voice,” Sissy said gently.
Katie persisted. “Ever since the summer when I was 19, after she’d been gone five years, I’ve heard her.”
“Then why hasn’t she appeared to one of us? We were so sure she’d gone on.”
“I think she did pass on,” Katie said. “I don’t think she wants to be dead though. I think I can hear her screaming from heaven.”
“Are those the screams you hear when the horsemen come?”
“I don’t know,” Katie said, breaking down in tears.
The two sisters embraced and both cried quietly.
Mother's Voice Page 2
