Forest of Shadows

by Hunter Shea

  “Also, note anything that comes close to what we saw last night, especially ghostly presences that appear like shadows.”

  He grabbed a pen from his desk and broke through the tape on the top box, hauled it upstairs and repeated the procedure for the next three.

  “I thought you said you wanted me to come down here?” Eve said when he was ready to carry up the last box.

  “Did I say that?” He gave her a wink as he ascended the stairs.

  Eve noticed tiny trickles of sweat sliding down his temples and into his beard. He was slightly out of breath from running up and down the stairs. She braced herself for signs of impending panic. John had certain prompts for panic attacks over the years, and these were prime conditions. To her amazement, he seemed perfectly fine.

  “You want me to go through all of these books?”

  She pawed through the open boxes, scanning the covers of the books. Some were encyclopedias of the unexplained, others case books by famous and not so famous ghost hunters, and many more just first or secondhand accounts of particular hauntings. He really had an amazing, odd collection. She had once heard that Jackie Gleason had one of the world’s largest libraries of UFO-related material. When she’d asked John about it, he’d asserted his agreement with the rumor like it was an established fact that children are taught in grade school.

  John scratched his beard. “Well, I know how much you like to read, not to mention your eagerness to assist me with my work from time to time. And hey, there’s no deadline. I don’t expect you to go through everything today.”

  Eve smiled and shook her head. Sometimes he was impossible to refuse.

  “And what, pray tell, will you be doing while my eyes go cross?”

  He came close to her and held her upper arms in his grasp. “Judas broke into the library last night, almost like he was drawn there. When he went to the basement where they found that girl’s body, he swears there was a malevolent presence. As it came up to attack him, something else slammed the door shut in its face and literally shoved him to safety.” Eve’s extremities suddenly felt cold. Something was definitely happening and it was kicking into a higher gear. The strange sighting in the yard last night was cause for alarm, but deep down she clung to the hope that they were in an episode of Scooby-Doo and it could all be explained as a smoke and mirror act by a curmudgeonly old-timer who wanted them off his land.

  “This happened last night?”

  “Not long before the thing with Muraco and us.”

  “That kind of stretches the barrier of coincidence, does it not?”

  John nodded. “I would say so.” He slipped a piece of paper into her hand. “This is what was placed in Judas’s back pocket. He swears he didn’t put it there and had never seen it before. He went there for answers and he came back with that.”

  Eve read the words on the folded up paper and thought. She was finding it hard to put two and two together.

  “This just looks like a to-do list.”

  John had begun unpacking books and placing them on the dining room table.

  “That’s exactly what it is, my dear Watson. I bet you’re wondering why it’s so significant.”

  “The thought had crossed my mind.”

  “Let me give you a little more background. Judas says he saw Millie’s spirit leading him to this house while we were away. Granted, he was inebriated at the time but he’s been in that state plenty of times before without seeing ghosts. Something about that sighting kept nagging away at him, like she was trying to tell him something, and the only thing he could figure was that she died because she was helping him.”

  “Helping him? How?”

  “Actually, she was helping Judas who was helping me. I asked if the library had any public records on the history of the house and since he and Millie were friends, she volunteered to see what she could find. Judas feels she found more than she bargained for and paid the price.”

  Eve scanned the note again, tracing her finger across each line so she didn’t miss a thing. She raised her eyebrows when she came to the next to last item on the list.

  “It says ‘Fir Way records, Judas’ down at the bottom. Everything else before it has been crossed off.”

  “Which means it’s highly likely it was the last thing she set out to do before she died.”

  “You don’t think…” Eve started.

  John interrupted. “I don’t know what to think. Is it possible something from ‘the other side’ was able to murder a poor innocent girl? I highly doubt it. I just don’t know anymore. I’m going to pray the computer can access the internet and my email account. I want to contact Jack and have him check the house for a couple of reference items I didn’t pack but may be of some use. Oh, and while you’re searching, look for anything that mentions interactive spirits. You can skip anything about demonic or non-human spirits, because I don’t think that’s what we have here. This is something far more rooted to this place. Don’t ask me how I know that. It’s just a feeling.”

  Eve stopped him as he was about to return to the basement.

  “John, you may have found the real deal here.”

  “Makes me wonder why I didn’t take a long vacation sooner.”

  John was able to access his email and shoot a message out to Jack along with instructions on how to wade through the mess that was his cluttered library of research material. He thought about hitting a few reputable websites that might have some answers but thought better of it. No sense pressing my luck, he thought.

  When he joined Eve in the living room, Jessica was awake and thumbing through one of his books. Eve sat with her legs crossed on the dining room chair, her hair draped across her face as she studied a big book on her lap.

  “Hi Daddy.” Jessica looked up with a bright smile and went back to studying the book. She loved to read and lose herself in books. He just wasn’t sure this was the type of book she should be delving into at this early stage of her life. Then again, it wasn’t like she hadn’t been exposed to all of this in other ways over the years.

  “Hey there squeak-pip. You helping Aunt Eve?”

  “Yep. I can’t read all the big words, though.”

  He ruffled her hair. “That’s OK. You know, if anything in those books scares you, you don’t have to read them.”

  Jessica rolled her eyes and placed the book on the table. She said, “I’m not afraid, Daddy. And I know it’s not make believe either. I’m a big girl and I can help too.”

  He never ceased to be amazed by the courage of this incredible little girl. And there was Eve, equally amazing, dragged up into the middle of nowhere in a town that hated outsiders and stuck in a house that was undeniably haunted.

  “Mind if I pull up a seat?” he asked.

  “Don’t forget to pull up a book while you’re at it,” Eve said with her eyes still scanning the pages. “Were you able to get through to Jack?”

  John looked through the pile on the table and selected a firsthand account of three hauntings in Pennsylvania. He remembered the case well, knew there was no sense rereading it, and tossed it back into the box.

  “As a matter of fact, I did. At least I was able to send an email. I tried calling after I logged off but no one answered. He’s probably at my house throwing a party. I’ll try him again in the morning, maybe at work. Then I’m off to a meeting.”

  “A meeting?” Eve and Jessica both stared at him, bewildered.

  “You remember I spoke about Judas’s friend Teddy?”

  Eve nodded.

  “It turns out, Teddy’s grandmother was one of the very first residents of Shida. If she’s not a wealth of history of this place, I don’t know who is.”

  “And she’s willing to talk to you? Last time I checked, we’re not very welcome here, both by real people and ghosts.”

  “Energy,” Jessica corrected her. Eve plucked her nose.

  “It appears she is and I have to prepare some questions for her tonight. This couldn’t have come at a better
time.”

  There was a tremendous clap of thunder and they all jumped. Hard sheets of rain pelted the windows. The ticking of the rain sounded more like rocks being thrown against the house. John went to the window and saw the heavy black cloud overhead while tiny crystals danced on the porch floor.

  “Second hailstorm today.”

  “Snow’s probably not far behind,” Eve said.

  “What happened to autumn?”

  “Oh, that happened yesterday between noon and three o’clock. Best part is, there’s no time to rake the leaves. We better get our snow boots ready.”

  More thunder rumbled and it sounded like the center of the storm was directly overhead. Liam started to cry upstairs and Eve rushed up to get him. Jessica joined John’s side and watched the hailstorm.

  She asked, “Can we make a snowman?”

  “Soon enough,” he replied, lost in a million thoughts, the primary one being, will we even be here when the snow starts?

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Finally seeing Judas and Teddy together was like watching a younger, interracial version of Abbott and Costello. Teddy wore his hair in a tremendous black braid that ended at the middle of his back. He had the nervous look of a veteran outsider and an annoying habit of cracking his knuckles so loud John thought he’d snapped a bone. They met at Judas’s apartment and quickly piled into the Jeep after the two friends engaged in a round of “who’s got shotgun?”. The struts groaned when Teddy dropped into the back seat. He sat forward, with his head between the front seats, and gave directions. Within minutes they were driving over areas that may have once been planned for roads but had degenerated into wishful thinking. What was left was a pair of slightly worn tire grooves amidst a sea of flora and downed tree branches, some with giant nests still clinging to their bark foundation.

  “And here I thought I was living at the edge of town,” John said as they bounced around. He could just imagine what a minute on these roads would do to his Jaguar. He was pretty sure he’d have to outright buy the Jeep after this rental.

  “You are,” Teddy said. “Just on a different edge.”

  Judas pensively stared out the window and chewed on the nail of his right index finger.

  “I hope you remembered to bring the tobacco and whiskey my grandma requested. Judas should have told you.”

  John shot a confused look at Judas.

  “It seems he neglected to mention that.”

  There was a moment of silence, then both Judas and Teddy burst into laughter. Teddy slapped him on the back of his shoulder, causing the car to briefly veer to the left.

  “I’m just shittin’ you, man. A little bit of Indian humor to lighten the mood.”

  They drove for another two miles in rough terrain until Teddy pointed out an actual paved road to their left. John turned up the asphalt street. At the end of the road sat a modest ranch house with a two-seater porch swing in the front yard. The sun was out in full force and glared off the front windows.

  Teddy fumbled with his key chain a bit before finding the right key. They stepped into a tidy living room with plastic covered couches and more long strips of plastic stretching across the carpet like Nazca lines.

  “Mamaw, it’s Teddy.”

  Teddy gestured for them to sit in the living room while he went down the hall in search of his grandmother. The house smelled like potpourri and the plastic made a tremendous racket when they lowered themselves onto the couch.

  “I thought only New York Italians did this,” John whispered.

  “Teddy’s grandmother is a neat freak, which is hard to maintain when you live out here. Whatever you do, don’t step on the actual carpet. She’ll throw a fit if you do.”

  There was a sound of a door closing and shuffling feet and Teddy reappeared.

  “She’ll be here in a sec. You want something to drink? My grandmother’s a total soda fiend, so the fridge is always loaded.”

  John had to smile at the thought of a grandmother addicted to soda. Nothing, so far, was at all what he had been expecting. “Anything without caffeine is fine by me.”

  “The usual for me,” Judas said. He looked longingly at the remote sitting atop the television set, just three feet from where they sat.

  Drinks in hand, they sat on the couch and waited in silence for Teddy’s Mamaw. Three coasters had already been laid out on the coffee table. Apparently she had been making preparations for their visit.

  She emerged a few minutes later, a round, solid looking woman wearing a heavy knit sweater with kittens embroidered on the front and back. Her copious gray hair was piled into a tremendous bun at the top of her head, held in place by several plastic clips, all shaped like cats. She took the chair to the right of the couch, practically throwing herself into it without so much as a grunt. Her skin was a light chocolate color and a virtual roadmap of intersecting wrinkles and lines.

  “So you’re the rich white man that has captured the curiosity of the town,” she said, offering her hand. Her grip was firm, like a contractor sealing a deal. She was not your typical frail old grandma. “You can call me Muriel.”

  “It’s great to meet you. My name’s John.”

  “Teddy tells me you’re here to write a book.”

  Judas had informed him earlier that his cover story was still intact. “I felt it was time to drop out of the rat race, come up north and do what I’ve always wanted to do. Shida has been very inspirational.”

  “Wish I could say that,” Judas muttered. Muriel cast a withering glance.

  “You boys need motivation, not inspiration.” The anger seeped away as quickly as it had come and she smiled back at John. “So, I take it you’ve had success with your book.”

  “Yes, things are going along very well. When I spoke to Judas, I asked him if he knew anyone that could provide information about the town itself, you know, its history, some of the major events, even old gossip. I’m sure with a town this small, there are a ton of interesting stories to tell.”

  Muriel propped her elbow on the armrest and cradled her chin in her palm. “Are you writing a book about Shida?”

  “Not exactly. It’s fiction, but I’d like to get a feel for what life is like in a town like Shida and make it the basis for my fictional setting.”

  “I guess it isn’t easy getting a feel for a town holed up in a nice house, is it?”

  The sudden change in tone caught him off guard and he hesitated to properly gather his thoughts. Again, Muriel’s mood shifted effortlessly and she slapped him on the knee. “I’m not saying I blame you. A town like Shida doesn’t exactly embrace outsiders, especially those that aren’t just passin’ through.”

  “I haven’t exactly received warm receptions when I’ve been in town.”

  “And you probably never will, so there’s one less thing to wonder about in your life.”

  “Would you mind if I record our conversation, Muriel?” He showed her his recorder.

  “Can’t see why not. I don’t think I’ve ever been recorded before. Might be nice to hear what my voice sounds like.”

  John retrieved his small notebook and a pen from his shirt pocket. “I guess now would be as good a time as any to get the ball rolling. So Judas tells me you were one of Shida’s first residents. How old were you when you came here?”

  “Oh, I think we moved here close to forty or so years ago. I was in my twenties. I came here with my family—my mother, father and two brothers. At the time, there was nothing but trees and bugs and every four-legged creature you could name. My father had been a carpenter when we lived in Louisiana and he’d taught us all a thing or two, so the whole family got together and built our first house about a mile from here. We didn’t have running water and had an outhouse in the back. We did a little farming but got most of our supplies during monthly trips to Fairbanks. Those were tough times but they were also good, pure. We didn’t need electricity, especially at night, because after working hard all day, there wasn’t a single one of us able to stay a
wake much past nightfall. Who needs a light bulb when everyone’s fast asleep?”

  She laughed at that and Teddy went back to the kitchen for another soda.

  “So how did the town itself get started? Were you the first family to take up residence? How long before others settled in?”

  “There were a couple of other folks, hermit types mostly, who’d been here before us. The kind of person that sets roots in a remote place like Shida isn’t exactly a social butterfly. More folks came in dribs and drabs, each one with different skills, and pretty soon it was starting to look like that show that used to be on the television. You know, the one with the guy with all that hair.”

  They each pondered which show she could mean, then Teddy blurted out from the kitchen, “You mean Little House on the Prairie?”

  Muriel clapped her hands once. “That’s the one! When Teddy was a boy we used to watch the reruns together in the afternoons.”

  “That must have been incredible, watching a whole town grow up from nothing.”

  “It sure was. I was eventually made the very first school teacher, teaching grades one all the way through eight. Once they got older, they either quit school or went off to different towns to attend high school. We eventually opened our own high school in 1973, though I’m sure it’s nothing like the high schools you’re used to.”

  “I’ll bet it is, just on a smaller scale.”

  Muriel settled into her story telling and John furiously scribbled notes in his pad. She truly was a wealth of knowledge about the town. John found himself growing envious of her experiences. It must have been exciting to be an integral part of a blossoming community. Back in New York, you’re born into long established cities and raised in neighborhoods where everything is already in place, right down to the manhole covers. If you wanted to build anything from scratch you had to deal with town ordinances, permits, lawyers and neighborhood associations. It was the polar opposite of the spirit that founded the country. Muriel and her fellow Shida creators got to experience that sense of colonial will and adventure.