Ghostlight

by Sonia Gensler

I pondered how to explain it all…without really explaining it.

  “You know how Julian and I are making a movie? About the history of the farm?”

  Grandma nodded slowly. “Is that not going well?”

  “It’s going okay. But when Julian and I were in the cemetery, we saw the gravestone for Joshua Hilliard’s wife and daughter. I saw…I mean, I couldn’t help noticing that his daughter died when she was young. Really young.”

  She pulled me closer. “Have you been fixating on death, Avery May? Is that what has you so troubled?”

  I squirmed. “Sort of. Julian said that the girl, Margaret Anne, died the same year as the floods in this area. He thinks she drowned, and I was just wondering if that was true.”

  “To be honest, I don’t know. All your grandpa ever said was that it was Joshua Hilliard’s fault. Samuel didn’t care for the man, even though he was close kin.”

  “Why? What’d Joshua do?”

  “For one thing, he left the church pretty early on in his life. Must have been after the war.”

  A twisty feeling came to my gut. Leaving the church was just about the worst thing a Hilliard could do. I should know, because Mom did it and Grandma still hadn’t forgiven her.

  “I never knew the wife or the daughter, but I do know that Joshua Hilliard turned peculiar in his old age. Hardly ever left the house, never wanted anyone to visit him.” She shook her head. “Well, your mother sometimes took it into her head to walk out to that house and talk to him—”

  “Mom was there?”

  “Oh, I put a stop to that. It wasn’t safe. And after he died, when I went into that house to see about getting it cleaned up? Well, I hardly know how to describe it. Avery May, there was a strangeness to that place.”

  I sat up. “You mean, like a ghost?”

  “I was taught not to believe in that sort of nonsense. And yet, it was as if the house had held in bad thoughts and feelings for too long, and they’d festered terribly—and when I opened that door they all rushed over me.” She snorted. “That day I told myself I’d never go back in Hilliard House. It could fall into a pile of rubble for all I cared. And I didn’t go back, at least not until…”

  “Not until I fell asleep there.”

  “And nearly scared the wits right out of my head. I can’t imagine what drew you to that house in the first place.”

  “I don’t remember, Grandma.”

  “You’re better off for it, I say.” She gave me a quick squeeze and then looked me straight in the eye. “You stay away from that house, Avery May. It’s a place of darkness.”

  Saturday’s drive to Nashville was miserable as usual. Grandma’s car was small and basic, but it did have air-conditioning. She just didn’t like the air blowing in her face, so she set it to the lowest level and vented the air to the floorboard. It wasn’t so bad for those sitting up front, but as the youngest and smallest, I was always stuck in the back. And because Grandma drove at least a hundred miles under the speed limit, it took us two stuffy, sweaty hours to get to the airport.

  That drive gave me a lot of time to think about Mom. I always missed her during our summers in Tennessee. Don’t get me wrong—it was great to have a break from the school-year schedule. I loved running free on the farm with Blake, and most of all I’d looked forward to getting back to Kingdom. But it only took a week for me to miss Mom’s cooking. To miss the cool of her hand stroking my cheek. I always stood as close as possible to the airport security exit so I’d be the first one she saw when she came through, and her face always broke into a wide smile at the sight of me. It even gave me a warm feeling in my belly to see her hug Blake. Any other time he would cringe at her attempts to squeeze him—like he might be contaminated by Mom cooties, or something—but he never shied away from that airport hug.

  I still looked forward to seeing Mom, of course, but now the mystery man in the photo hovered between us. She hadn’t lied to my face about him, but she’d kept the truth from me. Grandma would have called that a “lie of omission.”

  Who was he, and how had she met him? What had she loved about him? Why couldn’t she just be a regular mom and have babies before she divorced him? A lot of people I knew, including Julian, had parents who weren’t actually married to each other anymore. But they still had both parents. At the very least, they knew the names of both parents.

  I would never know my father’s name.

  It had bothered me for a long time—ever since I started school—but this summer had stirred up a real anger about it. I had no idea how to explain this to Mom, though. Maybe that was why I was a little stiff when she came through the security exit. I felt torn down the middle—half my heart leaping at first sight of her while the other half seethed over her secrets and lies.

  “Avery, it’s so good to see you!” She crushed me in a bear hug. When she pulled back, her forehead creased. “There’s something different about you, sweetie.”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s only been a week, but you look older. How can that be?” She shook her head. “Why can’t you stay my baby forever?”

  I couldn’t help grinning at that. Actually, it was nice to have everyone smiling, even Blake. I had plenty of time to ask her about the husband thing. It could wait until Monday at least. A day and a half of peace wouldn’t hurt anybody.

  —

  “I want to know what’s been going on,” Mom said at the supper table after the blessing. “I mean, since you two are taking a break from Kingdom this summer.”

  I turned to Blake—he was the one responsible for the break, after all—but he just shoveled a pile of mashed potatoes into his mouth and stared back at me. Fortunately Grandma jumped in.

  “Blake’s been working on his summer-reading list.” She patted my hand. “And Avery May has a new friend. She’s been spending a lot of time with him.”

  “Him?” Mom’s head snapped up. “Avery, did you tell me about this?”

  “It’s not like that, Maddie,” said Grandma. “I’ve met the boy—he’s spending the summer with his father at Hollyhock Cottage.”

  Blake reached for the last drumstick. “His dad’s a country music star.”

  “Oh, really?” Mom turned to look at me. “What’s his name?”

  “Curtis Wayne,” I mumbled.

  Her eyes widened. “Are you kidding me?”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t know he was famous until Julian explained.”

  “I’ve seen him in the commercials for those country music awards shows.” Mom grinned. “What would you and your friends call him? A hottie?”

  “God, Mom!”

  “Avery, what have I said about taking the Lord’s name in vain?” Grandma took a deep breath. “Mr. Wayne seems quite amiable. Not at all full of himself like you might expect from a celebrity. His daughter arrived a couple of days ago, and Avery May is working on a project with both children.”

  “A project? Tell me all about it, Avery.”

  I picked at the skin on my chicken breast. First of all, I had told Mom about the film. Second, I’d been so distracted by secret husbands and ghost girls that I’d forgotten to think of a good answer to the whole “what’s it about” question.

  “I told you on the phone, Mom,” I stalled. “We’re, um, making a movie together.”

  “I’m sorry, honey. I must have been really tired that night. Remind me what the movie is about.”

  “We’re just filming scenes here and there on the farm. It’s kind of a history of the place. Julian says it’s going to be a ‘short’—only about fifteen minutes long.”

  “She’s totally into this movie, Mom,” said Blake. “You wouldn’t believe how seriously Avery’s taking it.” He looked directly at me. “She’ll stop at nothing.”

  I shot back the dirtiest look I could manage. “It’s not that big a deal.”

  “Hilliard Farm history, huh? Maybe Mama could put the video on her website.” Mom glanced at Grandma. “That is, if she’d finally join the twenty-first ce
ntury and make a website for her rental cottage.”

  “It’s not worth the bother, Maddie. I gave the important details to that Tennessee rental cottage website, and if someone needs to know more, they call. Sometimes even that’s more than I want to fool with.”

  “It would simplify things if you let people book online. All you need is satellite TV for an Internet connection.” When Grandma only grunted in response, Mom turned back to me. “I look forward to seeing your movie, Avery.”

  Thank goodness she switched focus to Blake at that point, because I was not cool with talking about the movie. Mom could never see it. If she did, she’d know I broke Grandma’s rules. That I stole the key and snuck into an abandoned house. And then she’d probably find out about me falling asleep in Hilliard House all those years ago, because she’s a lawyer and she’s good at getting facts out of people who don’t want to share them. And that would cause another huge argument between her and Grandma. And maybe she’d never let me come to Tennessee again.

  Mom set down her napkin and smiled at Grandma. “That was delicious, Mama. I’m trying to cut back on meat, but you know I never can resist your fried chicken.” She turned to Blake. “If you’ll clear the table, I’ll wash the dishes. Avery, would you mind helping me with the drying?”

  This was the point when Grandma would herd Blake off to the living room so that I could have Mom all to myself. And there was so much I wanted to ask her. Like, who exactly was this man she’d married and why hadn’t I ever heard of him? I also wanted to know more about Joshua Hilliard, seeing as she’d known him.

  But I’d told myself to wait until later to deal with all that, so I just stood there fiddling with the towel while she filled the sink with soapy water.

  “What’s on your mind, Avery?”

  After a bit more fiddling, I decided it was easier to talk about myself for now. “It’s this movie I’m making with Julian. He and his sister did some filming without me today, and it made me feel kind of…”

  “Left out?”

  “Yeah. And I won’t see them again until Monday.” I took a glass from her to dry. “I mean, I’ll see them on Monday if it’s okay with you. We usually just work for a couple of hours or so.”

  She eyed me for a moment. “This project is pretty important to you, isn’t it?”

  I nodded.

  “Then I want you to finish it.” She smiled. “Thanks for considering my feelings. That’s awfully grown-up of you.”

  I couldn’t meet her eyes for long, so I walked the dried glass over to the cabinet. “Julian and I have been doing research for the film, and we learned about Joshua Hilliard. Grandma says you talked to him sometimes, and that she didn’t like it.”

  Mom paused in her washing. “Wow, I haven’t thought about Mr. Hilliard in a long while.”

  “Was he scary? Old men scare me sometimes.”

  She ran water over a plate and handed it to me. “I know what you mean, but no. Mostly he was just sad. He’d lived alone in that house for such a long time.”

  “Grandma said he was dark and maudlin.”

  “ ‘Maudlin’ is a good word—remember it for the SATs. But it’s not really how I remember him. Mr. Hilliard was very kind. Gentlemanly, even. Mama didn’t like me going in the house, but sometimes he’d be working outside, or sitting on his front step, and he’d offer me a butterscotch candy.”

  “Mom! Candy from a stranger?”

  “He was family, Avery. And he always seemed pleased to see me.” She paused. “You know, he talked to me like I mattered. Like he cared about my opinions. But after a while he’d get a faraway look, and I knew he needed to be alone again. Figured he was missing his family.”

  “So why is he buried separately from them?”

  Mom shook her head sadly. “That’s how his wife wanted it.”

  “Isn’t that kind of strange?”

  “I knew better than to pry.”

  I took a breath. “Did he tell you about his daughter? The one who died so young?”

  She glanced sidelong at me as she handed over the chicken platter. “Well, aren’t you the little investigative reporter!”

  “You’ve never told us much about our family history,” I said.

  She studied me for a moment before plunging her hands back in the water. “Mr. Hilliard didn’t talk about his daughter much. I expect it was too painful, and I can understand that. If I lost you or Blake…Well, I can’t even bear to imagine what I’d do.” She shook her head and pulled the sink plug. “Speaking of Blake, he seems a little subdued.”

  “Yeah, I know. He’s totally wrapped up in his own stupid stuff.”

  Mom tilted her head as if to study me. “Actually, I’d say he seems a little lonely.”

  “I seriously doubt that.”

  “But you’ve been spending all your time with the boy down the road. And you’re working on a pretty complicated project together. Did you ever think of inviting Blake to join in?”

  I stared at her. “Mom, I already told you. He blew me off. He doesn’t want to do Kingdom anymore. He acts like it’s just baby stuff.” I took a breath. “Maybe it is a kid thing, but he didn’t have to be so rude about it.”

  “Tell me what he said exactly.”

  “He said he was starting high school in the fall and was done playing magical kingdoms, or whatever.” Coming out of my mouth, the words had about as much impact as a foam football. “I don’t know…it just really hurt my feelings.”

  “Did you even try to talk to him about it? To think of other things to do together?”

  “Um…no. I pretty much just screamed at him.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it, Mom. I have anger issues.”

  She put her damp hands on my cheeks and kissed my forehead. “Just think about what we’ve talked about. That’s all I ask.”

  When I knocked at the cottage door on Monday afternoon, Curtis Wayne opened it. “Lily hasn’t slept too well the past couple of nights,” he said in a low voice. “I told her she’d better take a nap before she went filming with you. Want to come sit with me and Julian until she wakes up?”

  That was totally fine with me, but Julian didn’t look pleased to be stuck at the kitchen table. Actually, it was more that he looked jumpy. His right foot tapped the floor, and his eyes didn’t stay focused on one thing for more than a couple of seconds.

  Curtis Wayne clapped his hands together, and it wasn’t even that loud, but Julian jumped a little anyway. “Today’s offering is a classic: Curtis Wayne’s Extra-Fantastic Chocolate Chip Cookies. No messy chocolate chunks, no yucky nuts. Just the perfect combination of dough and chips. Delicious with milk.” He turned to me. “How about it, Avery May? Are you up for cookies and milk?”

  I hadn’t eaten much at lunch, and my stomach had been rumbling since I walked through the door. “Yes, please, sir!”

  “Julian?”

  “I’m not hungry.” His foot was still tapping away. “Should I go check if Lily’s awake yet?”

  “She’ll come down when she’s ready, just like always.” Mr. Wayne studied Julian for a moment. “Can I talk with you in the living room, son?”

  “You can say whatever you need to say right here.”

  My cheeks prickled with heat, and I could feel my body shrinking into itself.

  Mr. Wayne took a breath. “All right. Have you taken your medication today?”

  Julian stared back without flinching. “Yes.”

  “Really? Because you seem a little on edge.”

  Julian stilled his foot. “I’m just ready to get filming,” he said slowly. “That’s all.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, Dad, that’s all.”

  Mr. Wayne’s face drooped, and my heart went out to him. While he poured the milk and set out the cookies, I did the only thing I could think of to fill the awkward silence.

  I babbled.

  I talked about Mom, and how she and Grandma weren’t speaking because ye
sterday she’d made “a spectacle of herself”—Grandma’s exact words—by refusing to take Communion. That put me on the topic of Grandma’s church and the grape juice Communion, and how I thought everyone drank grape juice for Communion until I went to a Lutheran service with a friend of mine, and…Oh, it was pretty much what Blake would call “verbal diarrhea.” Half the time I had no idea what would come out of my mouth next, but at least I was filling the air with something other than hurt.

  I settled back in pure relief when Lily finally appeared in the doorway. She was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt with her hair pulled back in a sparkly hair tie and a bejeweled hat on her head. Her nose and cheeks were already coated with sunscreen, and she smelled like coconut.

  Julian stood as soon as he saw her.

  “Hold on, son.” Mr. Wayne straightened in his chair. “Let Lily have a glass of milk at least.”

  Lily glanced from father to brother, her eyes wide. “I’m ready. I don’t need anything.”

  Julian’s shoulders slumped. “Have a cookie, Lil. It’s okay.”

  I’d been holding my breath for what seemed like forever, and finally I let it go.

  Only it came out as a belch.

  Lily grinned. “Good one, Avery.” She reached for the milk her dad had just poured. “But I can do better.”

  —

  When we finally were on our way, Lily skipped ahead to chase a butterfly. Or maybe she was trying to escape the dark cloud around her brother. An hour ago I’d had a million things to say to Julian, but now I wasn’t sure if he’d bite my head off or just ignore me. I couldn’t be blamed for having heard he was on medication, could I?

  After several more minutes of dead silence, I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “So…what’s your deal?”

  He was quiet for so long, I was sure he was mad at me. Just as I was opening my mouth to apologize, he finally spoke.

  “Dad thinks I’m getting too obsessed with this project, and that I’m wearing Lily out. I told him we’re on the clock because your grandma’s about to sell the place, but he keeps asking questions. I don’t want to lie to him about being at Hilliard House without your grandma’s permission.”