Harbinger in the Mist (Arms of Serendipity)

by Anabell Martin

  “What have you girls got planned for this evening?”

  “Oh, the usual,” Lindsey rolled her eyes. “Drugs, boys, and booze.”

  Maddie wooted in the background.

  “Well, I suppose that’s fine as long as you stay off the roads,” Aimee teased back as she poured herself a bowl of cereal. (Even though it was after six in the evening, it was breakfast time for her.) Lindsey turned back to watch Maddie and to think about the odd events that happened here almost nightly. And the relief that someone else had experienced a Fred-ism. Now if only something would happen in front of Mom. She was so lost in thought that she barely noticed her mom holding a glass dish out to her.

  “No, thank you,” she muttered.

  “I’m not offering you anything, Lindsey. I want to know why you took fruit off of my cake. I made this for work and I know I told you that. There are strawberries in the fridge if you want them. You didn’t have to steal one of mine.”

  Lindsey looked down at the cake her mom had made the night before from a recipe she’d cut out of a magazine. It was a basic angel food cake, covered in whipped buttercream frosting, and decorated to look like the American flag with cut strawberries as stripes and plump, round blueberries in the upper left corner. A large berry slice was missing and the frosting smudged around in the very center of the cake.

  “Mom, I never touched it!”

  “Uh-huh. Let me guess, the ghost did it.”

  It was obvious that Aimee didn’t believe her. She took the plastic box of berries out of the fridge and jerked a knife from the dishwasher, all the while keeping eye contact with Lindsey. After she’d mended the cake and rewrapped it with plastic wrap, she grabbed her bag and headed to the front door.

  Now I’ve got to run, honey. Please, please, please don’t go anywhere tonight in this weather. If you need anything, call me.” And with that she slipped out of the door to head to another overnight shift at the hospital.

  Lindsey turned to where Maddie sat. “See! I never touched that cake. Why would I poke my finger in the middle of it like that? Something weird is going on in this house!”

  “You think a ghost ate a strawberry?”

  “No. I think a ghost is screwing with me!”

  “Well, we’re going to find out what’s going on as soon as Michelle gets her slow butt over here. Come on, let’s clean this up.”

  The girls put the abandoned game away and waited. Michelle banged on the front door a few moments later. Lindsey gazed worriedly at the puddles forming in the front yard as a nearly drowned Michelle sloshed in. She hoped the downpour would let up before her backyard officially became a part of the ACE Basin.

  Lindsey locked the door and the trio tromped up the stairs to her bedroom. Lindsey and Maddie flopped on the bed while Michelle towelled off and put on dry clothes from Lindsey’s closet. Once she was dry, Michelle pulled Lindsey’s hope chest out into the middle of the floor and plunked a red plastic shopping bag in the middle of it. The two other girls joined her on the floor.

  Confused, Lindsey stared at the bag. “Well… what are we doing?”

  “We are going to contact the other side,” Michelle said mischievously as she pulled several items from the bag: four squat candles which she placed in each corner of their makeshift table, an African necklace full of colorful beads, long animal teeth, and a gold talisman that hung in the very center, a yellow legal pad and ink pen, a cigarette lighter, and an assortment of dried weeds that were tied together with twine. She put the necklace around her own neck and lit the candles and the tip of the bundle. After she tapped down the flame, she passed the smouldering weeds to Maddie. Finally, she pulled out a weathered board from the bottom of the bag and placed it in the middle of the chest lid.

  The dark stained wood board was oval with a bevelled edge and about the size of a large serving platter. The alphabet was written around its circumference in chipped, gold paint. In the middle, the numbers zero through nine were painted in a straight line. The word “Yes” was painted above the numbers, the word “No” below. Right above the yes, someone had written “CHRYCE PUHTEK WE” in white paint.

  Maddie clapped her hands excitedly. “I’m so glad that you didn’t throw it all out in the trash!”

  “Oh, Mom’s certainly not!” When she saw the confused look on Lindsey’s face, she added, “You see, Mom is a little bit superstitious so she had a fit when we brought this stuff home, told me to take daddy’s axe to it and throw it away. I thought that was a bit dramatic so I stashed it in the garage instead. But I told her I had thrown it away, you know, to appease her. When she saw me putting it in the bag a little while ago, though, I thought she was going to have a coronary, said that I was not allowed to bring it back. So I guess you have your own wudu board now, Lindsey."

  “A what? That just looks like a homemade Ouija board.” Lindsey wasn’t sure that she wanted that thing in her home either. Seriously, in the movies these things never led to a good end.

  “Ouija boards are for parlour tricks, my dear. This is special. It’s an authentic Gullah wudu board. It’s similar to a Ouija, yes, but it’s much more powerful because it’s crafted by and used by a kimbanda. We found it at the Open Air Market down on the peninsula during Spring break. This Gullah lady had a table full of things like this. This board was the neatest thing, though. I got it for ten bucks. Ten freaking bucks. Anyway, she showed us how to use it but warned that we should be careful and always use a ‘root man.’ Mom nearly shit a brick when she saw it.”

  Lindsey looked at her like she was nuts. "I've never heard anything good about stuff like this. Isn't this bad luck or something?"

  Maddie laughed and Michelle rolled her eyes.

  “Good Lord, Lindsey. You watch too many movies. Now, ladies, let us gather around and talk to this spirit that’s tormenting you.” Michelle stuck her tongue out at Lindsey and then pointed at the African necklace. “I will be the kimbanda. That’s the diviner, the person who calls the spirit forth. Maddie, you shall be my protective root man. Keep that sage smudge stick close to the board. Lindsey, you just sit back and concentrate on calling forth the spirit that haunts this house... and you.”

  “Uh-huh. You expect me to believe that load of bull?” Lindsey tried to sound brave.

  “Oh, we shall see!” Maddie giggled as she took a small, heart-shaped, clear plastic planchette of out the plastic bag and placed it in the center of the board. She wadded the bag up and tossed it on the bed.

  Maddie held the smudge stick near the board as Michelle put the first two fingers on each of her hands on the planchette. Lindsey stared at them in disbelief.

  “Authentic Gullah, huh? They make that from the ancient plastic tree?”

  “We bought this separate, smart ass. Michelle broke the glass one that came with it.”

  “Hey! It fell out of the bag onto the pavement.”

  “Yeah, because –”

  “So, we’re not doing this?” Lindsey interjected.

  “Yes, we’re still a-go. Why? You getting cold feet? I mean, you want to know who’s playing tricks on you, right?”

  Lindsey was hesitant. She had only heard bad things about these boards and was a little scared that she might find out something she didn’t really want to know. Then again, this thing looked more like an innocuous game than something sinister. She sighed and placed her fingers on the marker like Michelle had done. What the hell, she thought. It’s not like Michelle knows what she’s doing anyway.

  “Greetings, spirits! We are talking only to the spirit or spirits that call Retreat House home. Can you please come forth and speak with us?” Michelle projected loudly to be heard over the churning weather outside.

  Nothing.

  “We come in peace; we do not wish to harm you. We would just like to know why you are lingering here.”

  Nothing.

  “See. This is stupid. We should – ” Lindsey started. But the planchette under their fingers began to glide around the board slowly, making a
slow figure eight. Her fingertips tingled as if an electrical impulse was radiating from the plastic under them.

  “Alright. Ha, ha. Why are you moving it?” Lindsey asked, her voice quivering.

  “Lindsey, I’m barely touching it!” Michelle whispered, obviously shocked as much as Lindsey was.

  “Look! It’s spelling something! Quick, Maddie! Write this down! S – A – M – B – O… Sambo? Your name is Sambo?”

  The planchette slowly slid to the word “Yes.”

  “How old are you, Sambo?”

  The planchette stopped over the number four.

  “You’re four? Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there anyone else here?”

  “Yes,” the board said.

  “Who?”

  The planchette moved in a figure-eight pattern again before spelling out the name Tom. Their fingers were moved swiftly around the board as Sambo told the girls that he and Tom, his younger brother, had died in the house “a long time ago” when their momma hurt them to save them from the “angry masser man.” Sambo said that the man had hurt his momma, too. Everything was better now, he reassured them, because their momma was there with them in the house and that the mean man was finally gone. He said that they liked to play with Lindsey by moving her stuff and jumping on her bed. They weren’t trying to scare her, they had been lonely in the house for a long time so it was nice to have someone else around again. Lindsey asked why they had never done anything to Aimee.

  “We did, but she ignored us,” he answered.

  “Yeah, that sounds like Mom. She thinks in the concrete, so she had an explanation.”

  The girls asked if the old lady who died in the kitchen was still there, but Sambo said she wasn't, that she went “into the light” when it shone down on her. He said she never paid them much attention, though, so he was glad that she wasn't there with them now. The other lady, he said, was nice and acknowledged them at least, but she wasn’t there either. Lindsey assumed they were talking about Angela. After this, the planchette moved in a figure eight several times and stopped.

  “Wow, it’s really chilly in here all of a sudden,” Lindsey rubbed her forearms where goose bumps had popped up.

  The girls waited a couple of moments, but when it was obvious that Sambo wasn't going to talk anymore, Maddie said, “See, it’s just a couple of kids. They don’t mean to scare you. It’s like you have your own little Caspers!”

  “Thank you, Sambo. We will now leave you and Tom in peace. Good – ” Michelle was saying when the windows slammed open and wind gusted through the room, blowing out the candles. A bolt of lightning forked violently across the sky as the curtains danced on the wet air. The house shook with fury, like a small earthquake had hit the area.

  The girls screamed and jumped back from their seats. Their sudden movement rocked the heavy chest, flipping the board and the planchette to the floor with a dull thump. The candles, extinguished by their own pools of wax, rolled in different directions. The sage stick lay by the foot of the bed, spirals of smoke rising above it.

  “I thought that they were harmless!” Lindsey yelled as she ran to turn on the overhead light. The twins closed the windows. Lindsey gathered the candles and placed them on the dresser after making sure the flames were completely out.

  Michelle jerked the necklace off and stuffed it in her back pocket. “That was weird. Maybe it was their mom and she’s mad that he was talking to you. She probably doesn't trust white people.”

  “White people? What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Didn't you pay attention? Sambo said something about a ‘masser’ man. This place was built by a slave owner. He meant to say ‘master.’ You know those little houses out back?”

  “Yeah,” Lindsey said, remembering the first time she and her mom visited the place. “The lawyer said that they were old slave houses.”

  “Exactly. A dead slave and her kids still live here!”

  “That’s sad … and a little creepy.” Lindsey sat down on her bed and stared at the floor. “I can’t believe that we did that, though. What if we pissed the mom off? I’m not going to be able to sleep for nights now!”

  As if on cue, the hairbrush lying on the dresser flew off across the room and the bedroom door flew open.

  “Oh my God, did we make her THAT angry?!” Maddie asked as she waved the sage roll in front of her as if to smoke out the spirit.

  “We are sorry, ma’am! We really are! We just wanted to talk to your sons. We mean y’all no harm!” Michelle said to the center of the room in an attempt to calm the spirit.

  The house shuddered and a deep, rumbling growl, more frightening than the worst of the thunder outside, echoed down the hall. The girls screamed.

  “OH MY GOD, DID WE DO SOMETHING HORRIBLY WRONG?” Lindsey cried as she and the twins fled the room and ran down the stairs. Lindsey grabbed her bag and keys off the credenza as they headed for the door.

  Before the echo of the front door slam had dissipated, the planchette had moved across Lindsey’s bedroom floor and onto the wudu board. It stopped over the word “Yes.”

  Seven

  The girls ran out into the storm, rain drops stinging every piece of their exposed flesh. The unyielding wind whipped their clothing around their bodies and attempted to blow them off their intended path. Lindsey didn't know if it was just the storm or this newly angered spirit trying to prevent them from fleeing, trying to pull them back to the house. But they trudged through the impeding gusts until they reached Lindsey’s Honda.

  Once they were in the car, Lindsey locked all of the doors and sat looking back at the peaceful face of Retreat House. Her hands were shaking so badly that she barely managed to get her key in the ignition, but once she did she cranked the car and jerked it into reverse. Their heavy breaths fogged up the windshield; Maddie cranked up the defogger as Lindsey whipped the car around in the drive way and headed away from Retreat House. The car began to fill with an earthy smelling smoke.

  “Oh, for cripes sake, Maddie! You brought the sage stick with you?”

  “Damn. I forgot I was carrying the thing!” Maddie opened her door and tossed the smudge stick out into the flooded driveway.

  “Where should we go? Can we go to your house?” Lindsey wasn’t sure where to go. They had been intent on getting away from Retreat House, but they hadn’t thought about where they would go once they were away from the terror.

  “NO! What if she’s following us? Just freaking drive! Go into town!” Maddie screamed.

  “But if she’s following us, she could cause us to wreck!”

  “Lindsey, I don’t want that ghost at my house!” Michelle shrieked at the same time Maddie yelled, “Go, just go!”

  There was only one place to which Lindsey could think to go, especially in this weather. She turned right onto the main road. Rain thudded against the windshield like heavy rocks, splattered, and streaked sadly back and over the windows like tear drops. The wipers beat back and forth but did very little to clear the water away. The wind caused the car to veer several times and it tossed the fronds of the Palmetto trees that lined the road in several places to-and-fro like limp rags. The roadways were littered with dislodged fronds and Spanish moss that had been blown out of the protective arms of the large live oaks.

  The storm seemed to be getting worse. The wind was howling and the rain unrelenting. Tropical Storm Felicity was like a scorned lover – screaming, crying, and violent.

  “Should we stop and take cover?” Lindsey asked after the car had nearly been blown in front of an oncoming logging truck. She had swerved and skidded to a halt just inches from the tree line on the side of the road. Her slowing heart beat revved back into full throttle.

  “You drive in snow that’s ass-deep to a horse but you worry about a thunderstorm? Just take a breath, calm down, and drive.” Michelle was exasperated.

  “Hey, it was a storm that carried Dorothy over the rainbow, not a blizzard.”

&nb
sp; “I’ll panic when I see a funnel cloud, but for now please get us away from here,” Maddie interjected.

  A few minutes later, the girls pulled into the astonishingly empty parking lot of Colleton Medical Center. They parked, counted to three, and jumped out. They darted into the hospital through puddles and debris. The hospital was chilly; the air conditioning was churning out cold air, oblivious to the fact that the weather outside wasn’t hot and sunny. Soaked, dripping, and shaking from cold and fright, they rode the elevator to the maternity floor. Lindsey had warned them not to mention the wudu board to her mom. Aimee wasn’t particularly religious, but Lindsey didn’t know how she’d react to them doing something like they’d just done in the house, especially when she wasn’t home.

  Darby was sitting at the nurse’s station knitting a sky-blue baby blanket when they rounded the corner.

  Michelle leaned in and whispered, “Does she ever go home?”

  Darby glanced up when they reached the desk. “Well, I declare! What are you girls doing here?”

  “I haaaaave to ttttttalk to mmmmmy Mmmmmom.” Lindsey’s teeth chattered, but she got the sentence out nonetheless.

  “She’ll be out here soon, I suspect. Not a lot happening tonight. She went to heat up a cup a tea. You girls need towels?”

  “No mmmmmma’am, I jjjjjjust need to see mmmmmy mmmmmom.”

  “Good Lord, child. Y’all come here and sit by my space heater for a moment.”

  The three girls rounded the counter and sat in front of the little foot heater. Darby put her knitting in a sweet grass basket and grabbed towels for them from a hall closet. It didn’t take long for them to warm up as they sat there on the floor with the warm air from the space heater blowing on them.

  “What are you making?” Michelle was peeking into Darby’s knitting basket.

  “I volunteer here a couple of days each week. In the old days we were called ‘candy stripers.’ At my age, though, I’d be more of a ‘dried up lozenge.’ But anyhow, I am a member of the hospital’s knitting guild. We make blankets, hats, and booties for the newborns. Right now I’m making some blankets and extra small hats for the preemies in the NICU. It helps me pass time, you know. You girls know how to knit?”