by B. N. Toler
“I’m staying at Archer Valley Bed & Breakfast,” he tells her, and I didn’t think it was possible her face could get any paler, but it does. It’s a small fucking world sometimes, and of course, of all the B&Bs in Bath County, her father would be staying at the one my parents own.
“It’ll be okay, Charlotte,” I tell her, like I always do, even though she never seems to believe me. Her hand is clenching the door knob, so when George whips it open, she almost falls, but he catches her. If her father was disapproving of her wardrobe already, George showing up shirtless isn’t helping.
“Uh . . . can I help you?” George asks as he holds Charlotte against him. I wish I could hold her steady while she feels like the world is cracking beneath her, but if I can’t, I’m glad George is here to do it. She needs someone to keep her grounded.
“I’m Wayne Acres, Charlotte’s father,” her father replies.
“Oh,” George says, taken aback. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.” He immediately straightens himself and reaches out a hand to shake her father’s, but Mr. Acres ignores it.
“I’m just here for my daughter. Charlotte, you have no vehicle. Why don’t you get dressed and meet me in the car? Five minutes.” With that, he turns and heads back to his vehicle.
George closes the door and turns to Charlotte. “I think he likes me,” he tries to joke, but Charlotte misses the humor.
“It’s not you. I have to go.” She rushes back to his room and he follows. She’s so frantic she doesn’t notice either of us is in the room with her as she peels off her borrowed pajamas. And even though things are fucked at the moment, we are men, and we both stare at her. When she’s fully dressed and turns, I expect her to glare and give George some quip about watching her, which would be meant for me as well, but she says nothing. She pushes past George and grabs her purse from the living room. When she moves to open the door, George places a flat palm against it, stopping her.
“You look like you’re about to have a heart attack. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she says. “We don’t get along very well, and it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. I’m just shocked to see him is all.”
“You don’t have to go with him. I’ll go out there right now and tell him to get the hell off of my property.”
“I’ll be okay. I’ll call you later,” she says, as she kisses his cheek.
“I’m going to work tonight. I’ve been gone too long. I need to check on things and start getting back in the groove of things.”
“Okay,” she says. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
He smiles. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” He leans down and kisses her softly. She pulls away quickly, I’m unsure if it’s because she’s aware of my presence or her nerves. Maybe both.
“Bye.” She slips out the door and I morph outside beside her. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” She means what happened between her and George.
“I know. But you have other things to worry about, baby girl. Just remember, you have nothing to be sorry for, Charlotte. Your father is the one in the wrong.”
Somehow, she convinces her father to take her to her motel room so they can speak with more privacy. The silence outside of the very limited conversation they have on the way there is almost choking. Her father is brooding; it’s obvious he’s working out in his head exactly what he wants to say. Meanwhile, Charlotte sits rigid, her hands twisted together in her lap. I hate how scared she looks right now.
Once in her room, he sits in my chair, leaning forward, elbows to knees. “You’ve been gone five years,” he tells her, and looks at her where she sits on the bed.
“I didn’t think you’d be keeping count.” Her gaze is fixed on the floor, but her voice is steady.
“How have you survived off of thirty thousand dollars for five years?”
“I’ve managed,” she tells him.
“How?” he pushes, his voice stern; making her tense.
Her gaze moves to his and she straightens her back. “Be strong, Charlotte,” I encourage.
“Well, I slept in the 4Runner a lot,” she admits, and I close my eyes, detesting the thought of her sleeping in a cold truck. “Sometimes people gave me money, and a place to stay for a night or two.”
“You became a beggar?” he asks with skepticism.
“No,” she states firmly. “I know you might find this hard to believe, father, but there are people out there that believe in what I can do. Those people were given comfort by me helping them communicate with their lost loved one. In gratitude, they’d offer me shelter and sometimes a little bit of money.”
“Oh, God, Charlotte. You’re going around telling people you can talk to the dead? Honey, do you know how wrong that is?” Shaking his head, he leans back in his seat. Anger rushes through me at the image of my fist making contact with his face, consuming my thought process.
“I’m helping souls crossover. I’m giving them peace. Why is that wrong?”
“Honey,” he sighs before running a hand through his hair. “You’re sick, and you need to come home.” Charlotte’s mouth falls open slightly, but no words come out. “You need to come home and we’ll get you back to the doctors—”
“And drug me again?” she snaps. “No, Daddy. I’m not coming with you.”
Mr. Acres runs a palm down his face. “Charlotte Anne, I’m not asking. You’ve gotten yourself in trouble with the law . . . I can’t leave you out here.”
“I’m not in trouble with the law!” she yells. “I helped a soul crossover by finding her murdered body. I didn’t tell the police she spoke to me . . . I made up a story, but that is what happened. Casey Purcell appeared and led me to her corpse!”
“And now you’re mixed up in all of this,” he argues, shaking his head. “It’s time to come home,” he says, again.
“You sent me away!” she cries. “And now you’re saying I need to come home? That’s not my home anymore.”
“And this place is? You’re living in a motel, for Christ’s sake,” he counters, his voice edging on angry.
Charlotte inhales a ragged breath as she attempts to rein in her emotions. “I haven’t bothered you for anything. You wanted me gone, out of sight, out of mind, Daddy. That’s what you wanted, and I gave it to you because I knew you would never accept who I am now. I can see the dead. I can. And you can’t live with that. So you sent me away. And you expect me to come home with you?”
“I thought you’d take the money and take off for a month, maybe two. I thought, maybe you needed a break . . . maybe Axel’s memory was messing you up in the head.”
“No. You messed me up in the head, Daddy,” she yells. She’s standing now, but he remains seated, his expression calm, as if he refuses to encourage her rage any further, after all, she is sick according to him. God, I want to fucking punch this guy. “You’ve never believed me . . . I mean, do you think I wanted this? Don’t you think waking up to discover my brother, my best friend, was dead was bad enough? But to top it off, seeing dead people was what I wanted?”
“No, baby, I know it’s not what you wanted,” he tells her softly. I can tell he’s coming at her with gloved hands now, trying to calm her down by being gentle. “When you come home, we can work through this. Your mama misses you, Charlotte. She’s dying to see you.”
“No, Daddy. I’m not going. No.”
Mr. Acres stands and bows his head as he slips both hands in his pockets and sighs heavily. When he raises his head, his expression is stern. “I’m leaving in two days, and you’re coming with me. The police released the 4Runner and I sold it to the junkyard.”
“What?” she gasps in disbelief, stumbling back to catch herself on the dresser. “Why would you do that without discussing it with me first?”
“Because it was on its last leg.”
“Charlotte,” I whisper. “It’s okay. Sniper can help us get you another car,” I try to assure her, but she doesn’t seem to acknowledge what I’m saying.
“B
ut . . . it was his.” She’s looking at her father like he’s just stabbed her in the heart and the betrayal of it is so much worse than what he’s actually done. “How could you?” she asks as her voice cracks, and my fists clench when I realize why she’s so upset. It was Axel’s 4Runner. This guy is a dick!
Mr. Acres’ jaw sets in annoyance and the muscles tic, but he moves to the door. “Two days,” he says, again, before opening the door and leaving. The moment the door closes behind him, Charlotte collapses to the floor and begins to sob.
“Charlotte.” I kneel beside her, wishing I could scoop her up, and sit her in my lap and wipe her heavy tears from her face. “Baby girl, you have to calm down. Breathe.”
“He sold it. He sold my brother’s car,” she sobs, her eyes clenched closed in pain. “How could he?”
“I don’t know,” I tell her. “He wants you to come home. Taking your transportation away seems like a good way to convince you.”
After a few minutes, she calms down and sits up, leaning her back against the bed’s headboard. “He’s staying at your parents’ place. Time has run out, Ike. I have to tell them everything before he does and spins some crazy story.”
This is the moment we’ve both been building toward. We’ve known it was coming, but even I’m starting to dread the end of this. When she tells my family and George the truth, it will bring me one step closer to having to leave them—to leaving her. But we have no choice now. We can’t have her dad spinning Charlotte as some kind of mental patient.
“Call Sniper to come get you,” I tell her. “Then call my mother and explain you need everyone to meet at her home. Tell her it’s really important and you need her to get George there, too.” With a slight nod, she pulls herself up and stands frozen for a moment. “Are you okay?” I ask her, even though I know she’s not.
“I’m scared,” she whispers.
“I know. I am, too,” I admit. “Just know they’ll believe you.”
“He’ll hate me,” she cries softly. “And you’ll go, and I’ll be alone again. I wish you could just take me with you.”
My heart feels like it has officially combusted into a million tiny pieces of pain. In helping me, I’ve only made things worse for her. “Charlotte, please.” My voice shakes as I speak. “It’s going to be okay. We will make sure of it. I’m not going to leave until it is, okay?” But I know deep down it may not be a promise I can keep. That invisible pull has strengthened as George has gotten better, and I find myself digging my heels into this world to keep it from taking me. But I’ll fight it with every bit of strength I have to make sure she’s okay.
“Call Sniper,” I tell her, and after wiping her nose with her forearm, she nods once and moves toward the phone. I give her the numbers and she calls Sniper and my mother and sets everything in motion.
“Go shower and get ready. Sniper will be here soon.”
Nodding numbly, she heads into the bathroom, and just before she closes the door, she says, “Ike.” I turn and meet her gaze, her eyes red and swollen from crying.
“Yes, baby girl?”
“I love you.” And although the words are beautiful, the pain in her expression as she speaks them twists my insides. Then she closes the door and leaves me aching with her words.
When Sniper picks me up I must look a fright because he immediately seizes me into a big bear hug. “What happened?” he asks as I cry into his shirt.
“My father found me. He wants me to come home, and I have to tell everyone the truth before he tries to convince them I’m crazy.”
“It’ll be okay, love. I’m here. I’ll help you. I know you can see Ike. And I’ll be beside you every step of the way.” I hug him tighter for saying that; I need someone to be with me, to stand beside me. I know Ike is on my side, but that won’t help unless I can convince them.
Sniper drives to the McDermotts’ B&B while I try not to vomit. “Did Beverly call George?”
“Yes,” he answers. “But she didn’t tell him it was for you. So he has no idea what’s going on.”
“Good,” I exhale. “George is going to be . . . upset.”
“Maybe at first, but so was I. It only took a little convincing.”
“Yeah, but he’ll feel like I betrayed him.”
Sniper pats my leg before returning his hand to the steering wheel. “He may surprise you.”
When we arrive, I see George’s motorcycle out front and know he’s already here. The car my father drove earlier today is also parked out front and my stomach clenches. I was hoping he wouldn’t be here. When we climb out of the truck, Ike reminds me to breathe as we make our way to the porch. Before I take the first step, George comes flying out of the front door and straight to me.
“What’s going on, Charlotte?” His brows are furrowed in confusion. “My mother calls me here saying it’s an emergency, and I get here and she says we’re waiting on you.”
“Let’s get inside, George,” Sniper urges as he places a hand at the small of my back.
“Your dad’s in there,” he warns, and I nod in understanding.
Once we’re inside, Beverly hugs me, her gaze riddled with concern when she sees my face. “He was so panicked when he arrived, we had to tell him you called. I tried to hold off as long as I could.”
“It’s okay, Beverly. Thank you for calling everyone.”
“Did you come here to save me from the abuse?” Cameron approaches; joking. I smile as I hug him, grateful for the humor even though it’s wasted on me.
“Afraid not,” I tell him.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but my brother is all kinds of wound up about it,” he whispers.
“I’m going to explain.”
Beverly leads me into the living room and my heart stops. My father is sitting across from Henry speaking in a hushed voice. Henry’s brows are furrowed as his gaze meets mine and I know without a shadow of a doubt my father has already told him I’m crazy.
“Charlotte,” Henry says, and attempts to stand, but I hold my hand up, telling him not to.
“Hi, Henry,” I greet him. “Thanks for letting me come here to explain things.”
“Get to it,” Ike urges me. “No time to waste.”
“Everyone,” I call out with a shaky voice, and everyone stops to look at me. “Please sit down. I have something really important to discuss with you.”
“Now, Charlotte Anne,” my father interrupts and stands, giving me a stern look. “You don’t need to bother these nice people with your problems.” Tears sting my eyes. He really is trying to make me look insane. How could he do this to me?
“With all due respect, Mr. Acres.” Sniper steps toward him, standing to his full length. “This lass has something to say, and she’s going to say it. Now, you can either sit down and listen, or I’ll escort you out of this house.” My eyes are bugging out of my head, as are my father’s. Everyone else darts their eyes to one another as we all stand frozen in place.
“What the hell is going on?” George finally breaks the silence.
“Charlotte will explain as soon as her father sits down,” Sniper says, calmly, as his eyes remained fixed on my father. Dad sits down with a ‘humph,’ and everyone else takes a seat except for George, Sniper, and me.
“Go ahead, love. I’m here,” Sniper encourages gently, arms crossed, showing everyone they better shut the hell up and listen or they’ll be dealing with him.
I glance at Ike and he nods. “I’m here, baby girl. Go on. You can do this. Tell them the truth . . . all of it. Even how we met.”
Shame floods through me, causing the blood to drain from my face. How we met is an ugly story. But George said he wants to see all of me, even the ugly parts. Looking back at George, I see he’s watching me, probably wondering what I’m staring at. I give him a slight smile and take a deep breath. “Most of you know, and if you didn’t, I’m sure my father, Wayne, here explained I come from Oklahoma.” Beverly hands me a box of tissues from the table beside where she sits, a
nd I realize my eyes are watering. “Thank you,” I tell her as I take a few tissues.
“Six years ago, there was an accident. My brother, Axel, and I were on a motorcycle when someone pulled out in front of us. He died.” I swallow hard; meeting my father’s gaze and find his eyes are tearing up as well. “When I woke up, I had an injured back, a broken leg, and had somehow made my way out of a coma brought on by my brain swelling from the accident, only to discover Axel was dead.” I continue to tell them how I started seeing the dead, how scared I was, and how everyone thought I was crazy.
“My parents took me to doctors, who put me on all kinds of crazy medication, and of course, it didn’t help. It made it worse because I couldn’t think right, but I was still seeing and hearing the dead.”
“We did what we thought was right, Charlotte,” my father interrupts defensively.
“Not a word out of you,” Sniper snaps at him.
“I guess it became too much for them, so my father gave me a large sum of money and sent me away. I’ve been traveling around the states for the last five years helping the dead.”
“Helping them do what, dear?” Beverly asks timidly.
“I only see the souls caught in limbo—the ones that are caught between this world and what lies ahead.” Everyone is silent for a moment and Ike steps toward me.
“Tell them. Tell them about me.” Tears roll down my face because I know how emotional everyone is about to get. I know George will be upset, and Ike will be one step closer to leaving this world. Everything will be different, and I dread it won’t be in a good way.
“Casey Purcell,” I say her name and everyone almost leans forward. “I lied to you, Henry. I told you I found her by accident. The truth is Casey showed me where her body was. Her family was falling apart, and she couldn’t crossover until she knew they’d be okay. They couldn’t grieve for her because they were still holding on to that last shred of hope she was out there and alive somewhere.”
The room is silent. No one really knows what to say. “Keep going,” Ike urges.