by Tara Taylor
“Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Fat but fine. I guess her doctor said she could have been headed straight to the hospital if she hadn’t gone to the walk-in.” Esther paused and gave me a funny look. “She said you phoned her right out of the blue and told her to get her fat ass to the doctor.”
“I’m not sure I said it that way.” I had to laugh. My mood had lifted a little, knowing that I had helped Juanita. I couldn’t wait to tell Natalie. Maybe I could tell her and Sarah about Green Lady at the same time.
“I love that laugh, Blondie.” Miles said from behind the counter as he pulled a toothpick out of his yellow teeth. Vomit soured in my throat, and all my good feelings dissolved.
“I haven’t hired a new girl yet,” Miles barked, “so get moving, you two, or you’ll be here until midnight.” Then he licked his lips and winked at me. “I bet you’re not such a good girl when the clock strikes midnight.”
Esther followed me out of the office. “I told yah, girl, watch out for him.”
I nodded. “I will. Believe me, I will.”
Halfway through my list of rooms, I was listening to Pearl Jam on my Walkman and doing my final perusal of the room when my body stiffened. I shut my music off and listened. Footsteps. On the concrete outside.
I was alone in the room. I quickly grabbed all my cleaning supplies and glanced around. There was nothing to tell him that I was in the room. The footsteps drew closer. I knew it was him. Yes, my cart was outside, but it was in between two rooms. My heart sped up. I had to do something. If I made a run for it, would he meet me at the door, push me back in, shut the door?
Beat him at his own game! My ego voice gave me a jolt of energy.
Trust your intuition.
“Okay, Isaiah.”
I heard the key scratching in the lock, and I dove under the bed. I held my breath.
“Blondie,” he called. I could see his fat feet, which were shoved into leather sandals, walking across the carpet. My heart ticked uncontrollably, and I hoped he couldn’t hear it. I held my breath. Sweat dripped from every pore in my body.
He checked the room, then the bathroom, and harrumphed to himself as he left.
My body went slack in relief. A wash of air cooled me down. And I inhaled and exhaled. I waited for a few seconds, listening for his footsteps to get quieter and quieter. My heart still pounded through my skin but slowed with each breath.
I crawled out from under the bed, the carpet scratching the skin on my knees and elbows. Then I creaked open the door, and when I saw he had his back to me, I quickly snuck outside. He must have heard me, because he turned. But by then I was standing at my cart, trying to look as if nothing had just happened. A puzzled look punctuated his face.
“Blondie”—he walked toward me—“I was looking for you.”
I know that.
“What’s up?” I asked, trying desperately to appear nonchalant. I stared at my work sheet.
He stared me up and down. If I could have covered myself with a robe, I would have.
“Your knees are red,” he said with a smirk.
“That’s from scrubbing the tubs,” I muttered. Why didn’t he leave me alone? Heat spread from my neck to my cheeks, and I just knew they were as red as a ripe Ontario tomato. My hand shook as I tried to read the paper with my assigned rooms, but the numbers became one big blur.
“There’s no need to blush, Blondie,” he said. “I just wanted to ask you if you know anyone who needs a job. You got some cute little girly friends who could replace Juanita?”
I looked up and attempted to smile, but it was hard because all I wanted to do was shove my cart right into his fat stomach. “I’ll check,” I said. “Most of them have jobs already.”
Although I had four rooms left to clean, I was done in the time it normally took to do three. I left my Walkman on my cart, because I needed all my senses firing. But Miles never came around again.
Was I reading too much into this? He might be all talk and no action.
Always trust your intuition.
Stand up to him. Have some guts.
I finished work and caught the bus home. I got off a few stops before mine, however, as I wanted to walk in the sunshine and think. I had to get another job. If I quit working for Miles, I would have to move back home because, like it or not, the rent had to be paid every month. Right now this was the only job I had. And I desperately wanted to turn my small life into something bigger, something exciting, to see the world. I wanted my dream of going to England with John to become my own dream of going to Scotland without him.
When I was almost home, I glanced at my watch. I hoped The Past Is Here was still open. George and Claire were due back last night. He told me he would reopen today. I walked by the store and saw the red OPEN sign blinking. A thought flashed through my mind. I bet George could answer some questions about Green Lady.
I walked into the store, crowded with furniture and old stuff, and was immediately taken back in time. I loved thinking about the past. Sometimes all the old furniture and books and gadgets felt familiar; I almost felt as if I had lived long ago.
“Hello, Indie,” said George.
“Hi, George,” I said cheerfully. My mood always lightened when I saw him.
“Beautiful day out there.”
“I love the sun.”
“You just browsing today?”
“Yup. Just coming from work. Thought I’d stop in and see if you have anything new. And I want to pick your brain about something.”
His eyes lit up, and he gave me a friendly wink. “I have some new jewelry that I purchased at an estate auction.”
I clapped my hands and squealed. “Let me see!”
From under his glass counter, George brought out a silver tray full of old jewelry all neatly arranged and all incredibly different. “I haven’t tagged most of it yet. It was from the estate of a rich Jewish woman who loved to travel.” His face shone with passionate excitement.
“Oh, wow,” I said, gazing at the tray.
On a velvet backdrop, and lined up perfectly, sat a pink quartz necklace; a full turquoise necklace; freshwater pearls; thick and thin gold and silver bracelets, some with engravings; thin gold chains; thick-linked gold chains; jade and amethyst pendants; large, gaudy brooches, all gold with different stones embedded in them; chunky stone rings; turquoise bangles that looked like they came from the Middle East; an ivory elephant on a long gold chain; and—
I stopped when I saw a ring that looked exactly like the one my mother had given me as a gift when I moved into the apartment.
“I have this ring,” I said, pointing to it. Then I held out my right hand to show him.
He picked up the ring from the tray. He tenderly touched it before he peered at me over his glasses. “It’s an Egyptian ankh ring.”
“My mom gave me mine,” I said. “She said it was some sort of family tradition. My grandfather gave one to my grandmother, then she gave one to my mother. That’s all I know about it.”
“The origins of the ankh are a bit unclear,” said George, the passion rising in his voice, “but it does resemble the Christian cross.” He lightly ran the tip of his finger over the top part of the ankh symbol before he continued talking. “The theory of the loop in the cross has ranged from being just the common sandal strap to having some sort of sexual meaning. But really, it could have been a knot from ancient times that had either religious or mythical meaning. One thing we do know about it is that the meaning of it is life.”
“Cool,” I said.
“More specifically, eternal life and life in the afterworld.”
I tilted my head and looked at George. “Do you believe in the afterlife?”
He smiled, his warm eyes crinkling in the corners, and he shrugged. “I’m not sure what I believe, dear. I know I believe in beautiful jewelry, and I love finding out where it came from.”
I smiled back at him. “And you know so much, too.” I paused before I said, “Stones make m
e feel alive.”
“Well, a lot of people feel that gems and semiprecious stones hold energy.” He looked down at the jewelry. “I’m not sure I believe in any of that either. But they are pretty to look at.”
“I can’t afford any of this today,” I said, “but I did come in to ask you a question.”
“Sure. Ask away.”
“When did you buy this store?”
“Twenty years ago,” he said proudly. “I was fifty-five and had just retired from the government. I wanted something to do with my time. I’m lucky to still be in business, the way the economy is now.” He glanced at me over his glasses. “Why are you interested? You want to buy me out?” He winked at me.
I laughed. “I don’t have the money to buy jewelry, let alone a store. It’s just such an old building. It has to have history. I love knowing old facts.”
“You’re an inquisitive young lady. I like that. So many kids today don’t think of the past.”
“Who owned it before you?” I asked.
“It was a family business that had been passed down.” He picked up a silver ring and began polishing it. “I bought the store from the original owner’s grandson. It was built in the early 1900s. I guess that could classify it as a heritage building.” He looked up and smiled. “So, to you, being as young as you are, it’s old. Just like me.”
“You’re not old.” I nudged him on the arm.
“Claire wants me to retire in another year. Maybe next winter.”
“What do you want to do?”
“The thought of getting away from winter does appeal to me.”
“Do you … know anything about the original family?”
He laughed. “If it’s old, my dear, I’ve done a bit of research. The original owner had the last name of Schmidt.”
“What nationality is that?” I asked. Green Lady had a very distinct British accent.
“Schmidt is German. He came over on a boat when he was just a young man.”
“Was he married to someone German, too? Did they come over together?”
He wagged his finger at me. “I should have known. You’re interested in the love story. I don’t know if he came over with a bride or married when he got here. I do know that over the years, he and his wife developed a flair for fashion. This wasn’t originally an antique store but a fine cloth store. They imported fabric and sold it to the upper class in the city.”
“Did that first family live here long?” Perhaps the woman I was seeing was someone else. Could there have been another owner?
“If my memory serves me, that grandson’s name was Gerald. So it was in the family until I came along. Gerald turned the building into apartments and didn’t live on the property. He just rented it out. But I think the original Schmidts built it so the store was attached to their family residence. Your apartment and all the other apartments were rooms in their house. I think Gerald made all the changes, adding extra kitchens and whatnot.”
He put down the ring he was shining and smiled at me. “I forgot. I’ve got a nice kitchen clock that might work for you girls.” He moved his step stool and climbed up to get an adorable, round, daisy kitchen clock.
“How much?” I asked.
“No cost. It’s a 1960s clock, but suits a young girl like you who is always sunny and bright.” He stepped down off his little stool and handed the clock to me.
I really wanted to ask more questions. But the doorbell tinkled and George turned his attention to the door. He waved at a man who had entered the store.
“I’ve got that table for you on my truck,” said the man.
George moved from behind the counter and toward the door. “Enjoy your clock, Indie,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said. I left the store with it under my arm.
Henry greeted me when I unlocked the apartment door. I slipped out of my sandals and picked him up. With him resting in my arms, I called out, “Hello.”
No answer. Where was everybody? My chest constricted. I didn’t want to be alone. I headed to the kitchen and immediately looked at the white message board we had tacked up on the kitchen wall. There were two notes written in black marker.
Have to work pm shift. Home at nine. Natalie.
Going out with Tyler. Sarah.
I exhaled and looked around the small kitchen. I placed the clock on the table and sat down. Drumming my fingers on the table, I wondered how I would survive the night alone.
First, I called Lacey, but she wasn’t home and her mother said she wouldn’t be home all night. I thought about calling my friends Zoe and Carly, but they lived so far away now, and I didn’t have a car. At first, when I got my job, I was going to save for a car, but the idea of traveling kept coming up. The thought of traveling made me think of John. Again.
I wanted to call him … but couldn’t. How many times had I wanted to pick up the phone and call him? Hundreds. Thousands. Millions.
Slam.
I covered my face with my hands. She was back. Why wouldn’t she leave me alone? My body started trembling, and my heart ticked like an out-of-control clock. The clock. I would ignore her and put up the clock.
The tool kit my dad gave me when I moved out was in my room. Walking across the hall, I heard the taps on in the bathroom. I sprinted down the hall. Sure enough, water was blasting in the sink and splashing onto the floor. I shut the taps off, grabbed my purple bath towel, and mopped the floor.
I did manage to get the nail hammered into the wall and the clock put up without her slamming a door or turning on any other taps. The clock looked pretty above the sink, and it read 7 P.M., the correct time. George wouldn’t have it in his store if it didn’t tell the right time.
I had to get more details. I would ask George to finish telling me about the family. Perhaps that would help me understand Green Lady, and I did want to, because she obviously had been through something horrible. I wrung my hands. The apartment was too quiet for my liking. Where was she hiding? When would she appear again? I needed music. That might stop me from hearing her. Natalie would be home by nine.
I needed a drink, too. Just one. Although I never drank alone, ever, I really wanted a drink to see if that would stop me from being able to see her—perhaps just a glass of wine would make her not come back. Wine was nothing. One glass wouldn’t hurt.
I poured my glass and took it and Henry to the living room. Tonight I wanted to listen to Jim Morrison. I put on the Doors greatest hits CD and plopped down on the sofa.
The music, no matter how I cranked the volume, didn’t drown out the pitiful singing, but thankfully she left the taps alone. I didn’t move from the sofa except to refill my wineglass. When Natalie arrived home, I was still sitting. She called out, and I answered, “In here.”
“How yah gettin’ on, girl?” she asked when she saw me.
“Good,” I answered.
“You drinking alone?”
I shrugged. “Just wine.”
“Not like you.” She eyed me.
“Is tonight.” I petted Henry on the head.
Natalie frowned at me. “What’s up with you?”
I shook my head.
She flopped down on the sofa beside me. “I don’t believe you.”
“Get a drink. We can have a party.”
A few drinks later, and feeling a lot more tipsy, I looked at Natalie over the rim of my glass.
“I have something to tell you,” I slurred. “Our apartment is … it’s haunted.”
“Haunted?” Natalie stared at me wide-eyed.
“Yeah. Haven’t you heard her slamming the doors?”
“I, um, thought the sounds were because it was an old apartment.” Natalie’s voice trembled. “So … it’s, this ghost or whatever it is, is a she?” She wrapped her arms around her body.
“Yeah,” I slurred.
Natalie furiously shook her head, making her short hair stand on end. “I don’t want to believe this. I—I can’t believe this.”
“She’s the one who
turned on the taps,” I said. “She did. I know she did.”
Natalie put her hands to her ears. “No more, please. This is too scary.” She flapped her hands. “Let’s not talk about it anymore.”
“I had to tell you.”
“I can’t deal with a ghost. That is just, just crazy. And I thought weirded-out stuff only happened in Newfoundland. Wait until I tell my grandmother.”
By the time I went to bed at midnight, I was definitely bordering on being drunk. I liked the feeling because it dulled everything, helped me relax, and made the woman go away. I must have fallen asleep right away.
It was still dark outside when Natalie came crashing into my room and jumped on my bed. “I saw her!” she screamed.
Groggy, I sat up. “What?”
Natalie’s entire body shook, her face was ashen, and her pupils were dilated.
“You were right! There is this woman from the past in our apartment. She has this stuffy British accent.” Natalie gasped for air. “I saw her. I saw her.”
I hugged her and tried to get her to stop shaking. I hadn’t told Natalie about the woman being British. She really had seen her. Natalie’s screaming and my trying to calm her down must have woken Sarah up, because suddenly she flew into my room.
“Holy fuck!” Sarah scurried onto my bed as well, clutching her baseball bat. “Did you guys know that we have a ghost in our apartment? She wears this long green skirt, and I just saw her, and she told me to leave.”
“I saw her too,” said Natalie, her voice quivering. “Indie told me about her.”
“You saw her before tonight?” Sarah stared at me.
I nodded. “I wanted to tell you, but I kept thinking she might go away. I told Natalie tonight and would have told you, but you were at Tyler’s.”
“Who is she?” Sarah asked.
“I think she might have been the original owner of the house,” I answered.
“What the hell is her problem? Why won’t she leave? Isn’t she dead?” Even Sarah trembled, and I mean trembled.
Natalie started crying. “She told me that I should be quiet because her children were trying to sleep. And she kept staring at me, and it made me feel as if she really thought I was intruding in her home. She didn’t yell, though. She sounded really, really sad. Did something horrible happen in this place?”
