by Jack Massa
I face Molly and grip both of her arms. “Listen, Molly. This is really, really important. Did you just see me at the corner table talking to a young woman with black hair and dressed all in white—like in clothes from a hundred years ago?”
Molly’s face has a “why are you asking such stupid questions” look. “Yes. I. Did.… Who was she?”
I sigh, incredibly relieved. I am not insane. “That was the ghost of Annie Renshaw.”
Molly’s mouth drops open. Her eyes grow wide. “Oh my god! Oh my god! OH MY GOD!” She squeezes both of my upper arms and starts squealing and jumping up and down. “I saw her! I saw her! Annie Renshaw! Oh my god!” She stops jumping. “Wait! Independent confirmation!”
She grabs my wrist and hustles me back into the shop. Lewis has just finished taking an order. “You want some lunch now, Abby?” he asks.
“Lewis,” Molly says. “This is important. Did you see Abby over at the corner table a little while ago, sitting with another girl?”
“Sure.”
“And how was she dressed?” I ask.
Lewis snorts. “Well, her fashion sense was retro, that’s for sure.”
“Eeeeeee!” Molly’s bouncing up and down with excitement.
“What’s this all about?” Lewis says.
I take Molly’s arm, and we head back toward the porch. “Thank you, Lewis! You are a great friend!”
“Jeez,” Lewis calls after us. “You know, she never ordered anything. Kind of rude.”
Outside, Molly turns to me. “What did she say? Tell me everything!”
“I will. But the first thing is, I need your help tonight. Are you up for some more ghost hunting?”
19. Just a night in the graveyard
Back in Jersey, I knew kids who would sneak out of the house at night. Sometimes they went drinking or to make out. Sometimes it was just for the thrill. Nothing very bad. Typical teenage behavior.
Never done it myself, of course.
Until now.
I hate deceiving Granma. But I can’t exactly tell her I’m going down to the cemetery at midnight to raise the dead. How could I explain that in a way that wouldn’t worry her? Besides, Annie Renshaw made me feel like it’s my job to deal with this.
Luckily I have my reliable sidekick.
At 11:35, I’m sitting on the front porch steps, waiting for Molly. I’m dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved button-down shirt. Molly’s warned me to cover up—there are mosquitoes and other nasty critters abroad at night.
The moon is white, floating high over the trees. Waxing. Full in another five days.
When all the forces will converge.
I see Molly’s bike gliding up the road. That quiet electric motor does come in handy. I trot across the front yard to meet her. I have my backpack, with a candle and some matches, a water bottle, and a flashlight.
“Hi, partner,” Molly whispers.
“Did you have any trouble getting out?”
“Naw. My parents go to bed early. And Ray-Ray’s working the night shift. They’re letting him drive a patrol car on his own this week. I brought the beer. I hope Otis likes Budweiser.”
I laugh as I climb onto the seat behind her. “I’m sure it will be fine.”
As we motor down Bliss Road, Molly tells me what she’s learned about Otis Feaster. “I found his obit—1918. Not a lot there; he died too young. Like Annie and Maisie, he was a child of one of the founders. He grew up on the west shore, near the head of the springs. He enlisted in World War I and was killed in France, age twenty-four. His body was shipped home for burial.”
“So it fits, that he could have been friends with Annie and Maisie.”
“Oh yeah. It fits.”
The cemetery is near Founders Park, a few blocks north of Main Street. The road is narrow, lined with oak trees draped in Spanish moss. Old clapboard houses stand back in the shadows. Part of the cemetery is bordered by a broken-down chain-link fence, part by an old brick wall. Molly turns into the entrance, past a historical marker, which it’s too dark out to read.
“Where did Annie say he’s buried?” Molly asks softly.
“Near the north wall, under a cypress tree.”
We cruise down a winding path of hard-packed sand and crushed dead leaves, past gravestones and monuments, some well-tended, some overgrown. Black branches reach over us like twisted fingers. Maybe it’s my imagination, but I can sense all the spirits sleeping around us.
Molly stops the bike at the edge of the path. The moon has passed behind some clouds, so we take out our flashlights. The graveyard is dark and very quiet. We hunt until we find an ancient, leaning cypress, and beneath it a granite headstone.
Otis Feaster
1893 – 1918
Corporal, US Army Expeditionary Force
Killed in action January 15, 1918
Beloved Son of Peter and Susannah
Nobilis Sol
“I wonder what Nobilis Sol means,” Molly whispers.
“Probably his magical name.”
“Oh, wow.”
I light a candle in front of the headstone and ask Molly for the beer. She opens the can and hands it to me. Then she takes out her phone.
“Okay to record this?”
“Um…I guess so. But don’t say anything once I start.”
“Okay.” She takes a step back from the grave. “Ready.”
I pour the beer three times over the top of the headstone. Annie told me to use my own words, so here I go: “I call upon the spirit of Otis Feaster, buried in this place. I am Abigail Renshaw, relative of Annie. Annie loved you very much in her lifetime and loves you still. Please show yourself to me, Otis, Nobilis Sol. I have great need of your knowledge.”
I pour him three more drinks and wait.
Nothing happens. Except…I have a feeling that Otis is here, that’s he’s gathering himself.
For the first time, I feel afraid.
I gasp, and so does Molly. A car has turned into the cemetery. It catches us for a moment in the headlights.
“Oh, shit!” Molly says.
The car pulls slowly around the path, pins us in its headlights, and stops. I see now that it’s a police car.
“Damn,” Molly says. “We’re busted.”
A guy in a uniform gets out of the driver’s seat. A tall guy. He shines a flashlight on us.
“Right! I should have known it would be you two,” Ray-Ray says.
Ray-Ray walks over to us, keeping the light on our faces. “What do you think you’re doing? Don’t you have any sense at all?”
“Wait.” I’m shielding my eyes from the light. “What’s wrong? We haven’t broken any laws, have we?”
“No? How about creating a disturbance, for starters? Guy across the street called us. With everything that’s gone on lately, you’re lucky somebody didn’t get scared and start shooting.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Molly admits.
“Yeah. Two underage girls messing around a graveyard after midnight.” His flashlight beam finds the beer can in my hand. “And drinking, too.”
“No!” I protest. “That wasn’t for us.”
“Yeah, right. Get in the car and don’t give me any more arguments.”
“But…” I look at the grave. I need to stay and talk with Otis.
“Better not argue,” Molly says. “When he’s like this, he won’t listen to reason.”
“Reason?” Ray-Ray barks out. “Just wait till morning, Molly. Dad will give you some reason.”
I’ve never seen Ray-Ray so angry. Reluctantly Molly and I pick up our stuff and follow him to the car.
“I need to get my bike,” Molly says.
“No, you don’t.” Ray-Ray’s opened the back door and is waving us in. “You can walk over here tomorrow and pick it up. If it’s still here.”
“Damn, Ray-Ray,” Molly says. “You’re such a pain.” But she gets in the car
as ordered, and I slide in beside her.
Ray-Ray climbs into the driver’s seat and switches on the radio. He reports that he’s in the cemetery and that the situation is in hand. He catches my eye in the rearview mirror. “Just a couple of idiot kids fooling around. I know them both. I’m going to drive them home.”
“Okay on that, Ray-Ray,” says the voice on the radio. “Check in when you’ve dropped them off.”
“Ten-four.”
He puts the car in gear and drives slowly up the cemetery path. Molly and I sit silently in the back seat, fuming.
I’m thinking: Well, this is typical. The first time I ever sneak out at night, and I’m picked up by the cops.
And I’m thinking: This has spoiled my big chance to talk with Otis. How am I going to contact him now?
And I’m thinking: Ray-Ray is now certain I’m an idiot. But he doesn’t understand what I’m going through. How could he?
I catch him looking at me again in the mirror.
“Can I ask what you thought you were doing out here?” he says.
I grimace and shake my head. What can I say?
“Research,” Molly answers. “Paranormal research.”
“Oh, right.” Ray-Ray turns onto the road outside the cemetery and accelerates. “Abby, I expect this kind of stunt from my sister. But I would have hoped you would be a little more sensible.”
Now he’s making me mad. Who does he think he is, my father? “I think Molly’s one of the most sensible people I know,” I tell him. “She’s smart, she asks questions, and she decides things for herself. What’s more sensible than that?”
“Why, thank you, Abby,” Molly says. “I think all of that about you too.”
Ray-Ray shakes his head. “Wonderful.”
He drives past Main Street, in the direction of the Quick house. I thought he’d take me home first, but he’s dropping Molly off instead. I guess he wants to get her home as soon as possible.
When he pulls up in front of the house, he turns to Molly. “I’ll watch you go in. Try not to wake Mom and Dad.”
“You’re not going to tell them, are you?” Molly says.
“Not this time. But only because I don’t want to upset them. You pull something like this again, Molly, you’re on your own.”
“Thanks, bro.” Molly grins. “You are the best.” She climbs out of the car, then leans in with the door still open. “I notice you’re dropping me off first. Do you want Abby to sit in the front seat with you?”
Ray-Ray’s jaw drops. He glares at her and points sharply to the house.
“Okay, okay.” Molly smirks. “Just a suggestion.”
She shuts the car door quietly and steps up the walk. After opening the front door, she gives us a little wave before going inside. Ray-Ray sighs and steps on the gas.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I didn’t mean to put Molly in danger. I mean, from scared citizens with guns.”
“Something like that could have happened,” he says. “Or you could have been attacked by some maniac. Harmony Springs is usually pretty safe. But two girls roaming around alone at night aren’t exactly safe anywhere.”
“I hear you.”
We’re both quiet as he drives back through town and turns up toward the springs. I’d like to explain, to make him understand why it was so important to go to the graveyard. But how can I? All the occult stuff is completely outside his version of the world.
In other words, he’s normal.
Must be nice.
We ride past the last houses on the outskirts of town. As we turn onto Bliss Road, I glimpse a figure in the headlights. A man walking on the side of the road, in a striped jacket and straw hat—like men wore a hundred years ago.
In a second, the headlight beams pass him, and he’s gone back into the dark. Ray-Ray jams on the brakes.
“Did you see him?” he asks. He grabs his flashlight and leans out of the car, sweeping the beam through the woods behind us. “Who’s there?” he yells. “Harmony Springs police. Come on out.”
I see no one. After a few seconds, Ray-Ray switches off the light and gets back behind the wheel. “Some vagrant hiding out in the woods,” he says, not sounding too certain. But he drives on. “Another example of why you need to be careful at night.”
“Dressed kind of strange, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah.” He’s quiet for a bit, then: “Listen, Abby. I’m sorry I called you an idiot kid.”
“That’s okay. You had a reason.”
“I worry about Molly. You’d think, growing up in a police family, she’d be more cautious. But she just charges into things, never thinking about what trouble she might get into.”
“Yeah. She’s pretty brave.” Come to think of it, so is he. I’m impressed with how he’s driving around on patrol without a gun, doing the job of a regular cop.
“You’re like her best friend ever,” Ray-Ray says. “But she also looks up to you.”
“Really?” I hadn’t noticed that.
“Sure. Coming from New Jersey and all. You’re like a breath of sophistication in our little hick town. Anyway, my point is, it would be nice if you could sort of…keep an eye on her?”
“Well…I can try.”
“I know it’s hard to rein her in. Believe me.”
He pulls around the last curve and stops in front of Granma’s house. “Listen, if you do get into trouble—with or without Molly—you can always call me. I’ll give you my cell number, okay?”
“Sure.” I take out my phone and punch in his number as he says it. “Thanks.”
He turns on his flashlight and walks me to the front door. I take out my house key and place it in the lock. He switches off the light then and stands still in the moonlight.
For a second I have the crazy idea he’s going to lean down and kiss me goodnight. Instead, he pats me on the arm. “Take care of yourself, Abby.”
“I will. Thank you.”
I go inside and close the door—as quietly as I can.
This night did not turn out as I expected.
I walk slowly up the stairs and across the hall, trying to step so the floorboards don’t creak. I get to my room and shut the door.
Well, my first time ever sneaking out of the house: Busted by the cops, but at least I didn’t wake Granma.
I brush my teeth and change into my nightclothes. Then I sit down on the floor and do the Ablution exercise. When I finish, I open my eyes, and my head jerks back.
The man in the striped jacket and straw hat is standing in my room, luminous and gray like a ghost in a video. He looks…confused.
“This is Annie’s room,” he says. “But who are you?”
I’m not completely surprised. Since spotting him in the woods, I figured we would meet sooner or later.
“Are you Otis?” I speak gently, so as not to frighten him. Don’t frighten the ghost, Abby.
“Yes…you are her relative, the one who called me?”
“That’s right.”
Otis takes off his hat. He’s a well-mannered ghost. “Why did you summon me?”
“Annie suggested it. She said you could tell me what happened to her—how she died.”
A look of awful pain comes over his face. “They killed her.”
“Who did?”
“Maisie and the shadowy one.”
“Raspis.”
“Yes. That was his name. We believed we could compel him to do our bidding, but in the end, he turned us into slaves. He wanted us to bind the Spirit of the Springs. On the night of the full moon, Annie rebelled. She tried to prevent the rite. But Raspis was already too strong. He channeled his power through Maisie and broke Annie’s will and mine. He cursed Annie and all of her blood. Then they made Annie walk out on the dock and throw herself into the spring. The noise of the splash brought me back to myself. I ran and jumped in to try to save her. But the current was swift and the water cold. I never…
her body was found downstream three days later.
“Oh, my sweet Annie.” He stares down at his fists. “I loved her so. We all three were in love, in love with each other and with our magic. But it all went so wrong.”
I can feel his torment in my own heart. But I have to know the rest. “What happened after that? Why was Annie blamed for the curse? Why did everyone believe she drowned herself?”
He looks at me, bereft. “Because I failed her. When I crawled up on the bank, Maisie was there, and Raspis standing behind her. She was changed, totally in his power—or his power in her. They took away my will once more. They made me lie, say that Annie had become hysterical for no reason and thrown herself into the spring. After that, I gradually regained myself. Maisie still wanted me, but I could no longer abide her presence. The very sight of her was loathsome—she and her evil companion. I slipped into a kind of madness. I drank. I drove my car aimlessly. I tried more than once to drown myself. Then our country entered the war. I found a merciful death from the German guns. As I lay in the mud, bleeding, I felt Annie come and take my hand. She led me to the place of peace.”
I stare at him, unable to answer. Finally I say, “I’m so sorry, Otis.”
“He is back again, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“I do not know how to conquer him. I would tell you if I did.”
“Annie said that the only way was to use the power of Harmony Springs. But I don’t know how to do that.”
Otis lifts his ghostly eyebrows. “Yes, that might serve. If you could channel the power of the Springs themselves. If you could raise Lebab…”
20. …And a day in the emergency room
After Otis goes back to the graveyard, or wherever ghosts go when they’re not summoned to the mortal world, I’m totally exhausted. I go to bed and sleep like I’ve been drugged. I have no dreams that I remember.
But I wake up tense and fearful. I sense all kinds of psychic momentum, everything converging, focusing on Bliss Bayou and the coming full moon. I know I’m destined to play a role, but I have no plan. If that’s not pressure enough, I sense that whatever happens will determine the rest of my life—or even if I have a rest of my life.
I go for an extra-long run. As usual, this calms me and helps me feel centered.
