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Ghost: Books of the Dead - Fantasy Best Seller and Supernatural Teen Book: (Ghost, Occult, Supernatural, Occult and Supernatural)

Page 15

by John Stone


  Samantha didn’t look too pleased to find Grace on the porch, nor did she say anything when Grace introduced herself. She just looked at Grace intently. Getting past her was like a mammoth task for Grace. However, keeping quiet wouldn’t solve the problem, so Grace was the one to speak up first.

  “Ma’am, I know that I might be bothering you at the wrong time, but I need to do this interview. It won’t take up a lot of time, I promise.”

  Grace tried to persuade her with kindness, but Samantha still didn’t say anything. Grace thought that Mr. Kourim’s phone call was enough to let her inside the house, but now that didn’t appear to be the case. She knew that it would take much more than just a phone call. They stood silently at the door for a moment more.

  Samantha finally said, “I know that Mr. Kourim called, but why did you have him call me?”

  “I don’t understand what you are asking me, ma’am. You weren’t cooperating with me and I needed to talk to Mr. Joseph. So, there was nothing else that I could do other than contact Mr. Kourim.”

  “How do you know him? I haven’t seen you around town.”

  Samantha questioned Grace without letting her in, and Grace was doubtful about who was playing what role. She was there to ask questions, but instead she was the one answering them. Grace was caught off guard, and she fumbled before answering something believable. The best she could do was to remind herself not to be intimidated by Samantha.

  “I just know him, but what does that matter? Listen, ma’am, I only want some time and that is it.” Grace tried to control her anger and repeatedly reminded herself to remain cool.

  After much deliberation, Samantha motioned Grace to come inside. “Sit down there,” she said. She directed her towards a rough wooden chair near the window. The room was half-lit and the curtains were drawn, which made the room unusually dark. There was old furniture all around. There was a circular coffee table which looked like no one used it anymore. An old cupboard stood neglected in the corner with show pieces, decors and wooden toys inside. Grace noticed a rack with photo frames which held the memories of unknown faces. The wallpaper around the room was faded, but it looked like they were rich once. There was a small side table with a golden black vase and a withered tiger Gable flower inside. It was almost unrecognizable and looked like it was uncared for before the flower gave away to its fate. There was also a rather odd looking clock on the right wall, but it wasn’t working. A few stray cobwebs hung around its corners. Based on the appearance of the house, Grace wasn’t sure what condition she would find Mr. Joseph.

  “Do you need anything?” Samantha asked.

  “Yes, I would like to see Mr. Joseph now.” Grace checked her watch. She had already wasted enough time talking to Samantha.

  “I’ll get you some tea while you wait here.” Samantha left to get Mr. Joseph and some tea for Grace, and she sat there wondering if this was the nicer side that Mr. Kourim was talking about.

  Several minutes passed, yet there was no sign of Mr. Joseph. Grace kept looking on either side of the room out of sheer curiosity and boredom. Samantha was gone for a long time. Tea doesn’t require so much time to make, Grace thought to herself. She wondered what was taking so long. Her question was answered when Samantha appeared with a warm cup of green tea and a piece of blueberry cake on a fine china plate.

  The aroma of green tea spread around the entire room in seconds. Although Grace wasn’t too fond of tea, she was tempted to taste what was offered to her. The complimentary blueberry cake on the side looked even more delicious and Grace was forced to reevaluate her opinion about Samantha. She took a sip of the tea and bit into a piece of the cake. Instantly, her mouth was filled with a taste so sweet that it made Grace wonder when she had tasted anything that good.

  All along, Samantha waited for Grace to complete her snack. Grace realized that she didn’t even thank Samantha for the tea and cake because she was so engrossed in the flavor of the food. It had been many days since she tasted anything that good. She had survived on nutrition bars for the previous two nights and was lusting after some actual food. The cake and the tea just loosened her up, and Grace felt much more relaxed.

  She isn’t all that bad, Grace silently thought. A little rough on the outside, but she was decent enough to offer me the food.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Grace said to Samantha.

  The caregiver gave a quirky smile in return, but didn’t say anything else. She waited in the room, watching Grace like a hawk. Yet, the young girl couldn’t eat another bite under Samantha’s careful gaze.

  “Do you need some more of the cake?” Samantha asked her.

  There was a large chunk still unfinished on her plate. Grace was embarrassed because she couldn’t eat another bite. She smiled and tried to motivate herself to eat more, but it was no use.

  “No, I’m fine,” Grace responded with a full mouth. “Thank you very much. Perhaps it’s time to meet Mr. Joseph now,” Grace said.

  “You seem to be in a hurry. Are you leaving town today?” Samantha asked.

  Grace was surprised by the question. It was oddly direct. Whenever she wanted to believe Mr. Kourim’s words about Samantha’s kindness, her actions proved otherwise. True, she brought her the soothing tea and delicious slice of cake, but Grace could sense that Samantha was delaying the meeting with Mr. Joseph. Grace was afraid to ask the reason and repented having the tea and the cake. Her suspicious mind began playing with her now. What if it was poisoned? She swallowed the bite that was already in her mouth and sat without touching the cake.

  “Are you not going to finish them?” Samantha asked.

  Grace pretended to check her watch and said, “I think it would be the right time to call Mr. Joseph.”

  “You really seem to be in a hurry, and here I thought you would interview me, too. Well, you see, I have been in this town for a long time,” Samantha said with a strong air of confidence. “So, I know about a lot of things that others might not be aware of.”

  Grace couldn’t very well come out and say that it wasn’t about the town. She was there to inquire about the Keaton siblings, but something attracted Grace’s attention, something that Samantha said. Grace never told Samantha what she wanted to ask Mr. Joseph about, nor did she mention the fact that she wanted to know something that the rest of the town folk weren’t aware of.

  Then why did Samantha say that she knew something. What if she knows about the Keaton siblings, too? Was it right to ask her? Grace asked herself repeatedly, but how would she know what was the right thing to do at that moment. Interviewing Samantha looked alluring, but it was Mr. Joseph who would know more about the Keatons. Grace weighed the situation and settled with questioning Mr. Joseph. That was the reason for coming here in the first place, so she stuck with it.

  “I will question you after I finish interviewing Mr. Joseph. Is that all right with you?” Grace asked.

  “Do I have any other option? I will have to settle with that,” she said reluctantly. “All right then; wait here while I prepare him for the meeting, but remember he is old and doesn’t hear very well.” She moved toward the hall but turned around again. “Also, he tends to forget things and even gets nervous at times over very trivial stuff. So please don’t excite him too much.” Her requests reflected her concern, yet Grace had a feeling that Samantha was being unusually careful.

  “Oh, I almost forgot something,” Samantha added. “Mr. Joseph doesn’t like light, hence the covered windows. But please don’t ask him why he hates the sight of light. The memory is not pleasant for him. So if you want some light, then I can switch them on for you.”

  Samantha nodded her head and left Grace in the sitting room after arousing her suspicion to a great level. Grace sat there and couldn’t help but think that Samantha knew something important. Then she remembered what happened at the library when she unnecessarily offended the librarian, Miss. Gable. This time, she wanted to avoid it at all cost.

  Let me just wait until Mr. Joseph comes and
then I’ll decide for myself.

  She decided to rely on her skills as a student of criminology. Although neither Mr. Joseph nor Samantha was a criminal, she would know if they lied or attempted to hide something. She took her notebook out, the one which held the photograph of the Keatons and braced herself to face Mr. Joseph. Grace quickly jotted down a few questions that she wanted to ask. She tried to make them vague, as to avoid raising anyone’s suspicions. There were sounds of rolling wheels coming her way and Grace saw Samantha pushing a flimsy wheelchair towards where she was sitting. Grace stood up to greet Mr. Joseph and smiled. She was glad that Mr. Joseph had finally agreed to meet her.

  “Hello, Mr. Joseph, I am June and I wanted to ask you some questions about this town and the people here. I am really sorry to be taking up your time, but thank for agreeing to meet me. I promise not to keep you long,” Grace said in haste and was extra polite in case they changed their mind.

  Mr. Joseph gestured for her to sit down, and Grace did so. Respectfully, she waited for him to compose himself and settle down. There were anxiety lines imbedded in his forehead and the veins in his hands were protruding. He looked like he had recently recovered from some sickness because dark circles underlined his tired eyes and he licked his chapped lips constantly. There was an odd black mark on his wrist, which might have been caused from a fall or he might have bumped into something. The marks were hard to ignore, even though he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt. Mr. Joseph caught Grace looking at his hands and he pulled his sleeves down to cover them. Yet, he said nothing about what caused them. His balding gray hair was ruffled and he looked tired, like he hadn’t slept for days. Grace felt guilty again for bothering him. She noticed that he was dressed far too casually and there was no sense of tidiness about him.

  “Mr. Joseph was resting when you came, so I had to dress him up in a hurry,” Samantha said in a calm tone.

  Grace wished that Samantha took better care in keeping Mr. Joseph tidy rather than making the blueberry cake. In fact, she was angry at herself for appreciating Samantha and the food she offered a minute ago. Mr. Joseph looked uncared for, just like the withering flower in the vase. Grace pitied the old librarian. She wondered why no one said a thing about his condition and what was the secret that Mr. Kourim was talking about. The questions tormented Grace, but she couldn’t rush into things.

  She didn’t know what relationship Mr. Joseph and Samantha shared, or what role in the household she held. She was a woman in her early forties, casual and unkempt. Her nails were broken and shoes were dirty. It was agreed that she made nice blueberry cake, but it overshadowed the things Grace saw now. Samantha overpowered Mr. Joseph and stood there holding the side of his chair. She never left his side for a moment. Grace was visibly uneasy and knew that it would be impossible for her to ask any questions to Mr. Joseph without Samantha’s knowledge. She couldn’t just come all this way and not ask anything. Grace needed a way to make Samantha leave, even if it was just for several minutes, but what she was thinking was practically impossible. Grace pretended to cough suddenly. She blamed the disturbance on the closed sitting area with no ventilation.

  “Could I get some water,” she asked Samantha? “I won’t be able to continue without it.”

  She coughed a little more for dramatic emphasis. Samantha obliged and left the two alone to get some water for Grace. It was the perfect opportunity. Earlier Grace had noticed that the kitchen was on the other side of the house, and it took some time for Samantha to go and then come back. Grace didn’t waste any more time in asking what she was supposed to.

  “Are you hurt in any way, Mr. Joseph?”

  He didn’t say anything at first. Instead, there was a thin, lone tear that rolled down from his eye. “Yes, in my heart and my head,” he finally groaned. He spoke very gently; his tone was soft and humble. His voice had very little strength.

  “I didn’t mean that, I want to know whether…” Grace didn’t know how to ask the question, “… you fell down or bumped against something?”

  She anticipated a certain answer, but was not ready to hear, “I fell and Samantha took care of me.”

  “Old age,” she sighed.

  Grace doubted whether or not his answer was compulsory, but there was nothing she could do to save this man from his current situation. Samantha didn’t treat him well, but at least she didn’t leave him all alone. She took care of him.

  “Who is Samantha?” Grace asked very quietly.

  “She is everything to me, everything. She takes care of me and I am thankful to her for not leaving me,” he said solemnly.

  Grace couldn’t make out what he meant by everything. She quickly realized that she couldn’t get any surreptitious information on Samantha from Mr. Joseph. So, Grace settled back down in her chair.

  She is probably just his mean old nurse.

  Grace settled with that thought. Samantha was still not in sight and Grace needed to know some other things. She kept in mind what Samantha warned her about, and she tried not to let Mr. Joseph become anxious. Grace started asking about him, about how he came to this town, and how he went on to become the librarian.

  Mr. Joseph answered slowly, but steadily. Grace, on the other hand, looked over his shoulder every now and then to see if Samantha was coming that way. Yet, she was nowhere in sight.

  Mr. Joseph, how long did you work as a librarian?” Grace asked.

  “Over 30 years, if I can remember clearly,” he paused and said.

  “And do you remember anything significant happening during that time?” Grace asked carefully.

  “Do you mean anything in particular, because in our school not much occurred? We tried to keep things as an even keel.”

  “What do you know about the Keaton siblings, Mr. Joseph?” Grace asked before Samantha came with the water.

  She could hear her own heart beating fast against her chest. For some reason, Grace didn’t want to ask about the Keatons in front of Samantha. Maybe her cold stare or gruff face made her uncomfortable. She wanted to hear what Mr. Joseph had to say about them before Samantha came back in.

  “You want to know about the Keatons? Why? They are not even in town anymore; they left years back and….” He paused a little, then added, “…they have no extended family living here as well, so there is nothing to know about them.”

  Grace thought of asking the question differently. “Do you know where they are now?”

  “No, not particularly,” he recollected. “They left a long time back, and it is not possible to keep track.” Mr. Joseph had hardly finished what he was saying when Samantha came in with a glass of water.

  “Sorry it took me so long,” she said. “You were talking with father and I didn’t want to interrupt, here you go.”

  She handed Grace the water, but Grace couldn’t drink it right away. The word father rang in her ears. Samantha was his daughter, and Grace couldn’t believe it. She looked from father to daughter and found traces of similarity that she missed before. Grace was foolish to miss it in the first place and felt stupid about that. She was clearly surprised.

  “Are you done with the questions?” Samantha asked when Grace sat there silent.

  Grace was brought back to reality with the question. “I am sorry. I am just … it’s nothing.”

  Grace sipped the water. She was genuinely at a loss for words. There were things she thought before that didn’t make any sense. Now, she was rethinking everything about the situation.

  “What were you asking my father? You can continue,” she told her. “He is good today, so you might as well ask him whatever you want to know.”

  “Ah, yes, I was just asking him about a few old residents of this town.” Grace still had no intentions of revealing who she was asking about, but Samantha was persistent.

  “Who do you want to know about?” she questioned her.

  Mr. Joseph didn’t say anything and Grace didn’t want to either, but she had to. “It was the Keatons. I read about them and was just
curious,” Grace said very casually. She hoped that Samantha couldn’t sense her urgency.

  “What about them,” she asked?

  “You know them,” Grace rebutted? “I mean, they were part of the school where Mr. Joseph worked as the librarian. There were some news articles circulating about them in this town, so I was looking into it.” At this stage, Grace’s interest was at its peak and she emphasized the true importance what she said.

  “So, you are interested in the Keatons? It is about them?”

  Grace sensed a hint of irritation and anger in her tone, but couldn’t make out the reason behind it. Why would asking about the Keatons possibly irritate Samantha? It was beyond Grace’s comprehension, and Mr. Joseph was starting to look ill at ease.

  “No, it is not about them,” she lied. “Listen, is it wrong if I ask about them?” Grace couldn’t contain herself anymore and probably should have maintained her discretion.

  “Wrong? What would possibly be wrong? However, if you were being a bit attentive, then you could see that my father is not at ease,” Samantha said. Her tone was still laced with anger.

  Grace was a foreigner in the town and didn’t want to get into a disagreement with one of the locals. Mr. Kourim had already warned her about the troubles she could get into if she was not careful. Plus, she was in there home and not exactly on equal footing.

  “Listen, I don’t mean to offend anyone, not Mr. Joseph or you or any of the town folk. I just wanted to know about them, because I read somewhere that they were in the news. I only wanted to confirm it; that is all.”

  Grace was getting tired of repeating the same thing over and over again. Yet, she was able to control herself. Mr. Joseph kept his silence and had his eyes cast down all the while. He never looked up once or said anything to stop a seemingly brewing disagreement. Yet, when Samantha was about to say something, Mr. Joseph held up his tired hand to interrupt.

 

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