Ever Near (Secret Affinity Book 1)

by Melissa MacVicar

  “I see. And her name?”

  “Lydia Chase.”

  “Very well. Let’s get Jade into the dining room. Bring as many cushions as you can. And those pitchers, please.”

  I stand with Gram, my knees wobbling, while Charlie obediently scoops pillows off the couch. My heart palpitates thinking about what we’re about to do. In the dining room, Mom has pulled the velvet drapes, and Mike is lighting the candles Charlie and I already had set out for the last attempt. Charlie drops the pillows on the floor, and Gram deposits me in the chair at the head of the table.

  While they finish preparing, my head begins to vibrate. The sensation starts in my forehead and branches around like a claw squeezing my skull. She’s coming. I can’t stop her. I want to tell them, but no words will form.

  “Mrs. Irving!” Charlie yells, panic filling his voice.

  Everything goes black.

  Chapter 36

  “What visitor is this? An old negro lady?” I grab the nearest object, a candlestick, and hurl it across the room at the she-devil. She screams and ducks out of the way.

  The negro fixes me with a critical gaze. “Hello, Lydia.”

  “How do you know me?” I snap.

  “I know you. And I know you can’t stay here, in this body. Leave it and speak with me.”

  “You speak nonsense!” I yell, grabbing for another candle to throw.

  The boy gets to it first, though. He’s moving them out of my reach.

  “Jade, tell her to go,” the negro says. She walks toward me, reaching for my hand with her withered, brown ones.

  And when I look down, my hands are brown too. What’s become of my pale, beautiful tone? Who have I become?

  “See? This isn’t you. This is my granddaughter.”

  I do see. What she says is true, and I leave the girl quickly, confusion filling me. How did this happen? I searched for Eliza, but I ended up with this girl, this woman’s kin.

  The she-devil clutches the girl to her chest and eases her to the floor where she stirs, trying to awaken.

  “You can see me, then?” I ask.

  The old woman checks the girl and then turns toward me. “Oh yes, I see you, Lydia. What a beautiful woman you were.”

  “I am. I still am.”

  I cough and gasp, forcing my eyes open. I’m lying half on the oriental carpet, half on the hard oak floor, sprawled like a crime scene chalk drawing.

  “I’m here, Jade. It’s okay,” Mom says. She places my head in her lap.

  Lydia glows like a hundred-watt bulb in the corner. Gram glances down at me and then turns back to face her. Sheer fabric billows around Lydia’s non-existent body.

  “What’s that noise?” I ask hoarsely.

  Voices are beckoning, calling. They rise from a dull rumble to a noisy cacophony. The pitchers rattle on the table. The candles flicker but don’t go out. Lydia looks around, too.

  “Don’t listen, Jade,” Gram says, waving her hand at me behind her back. She takes a step closer to Lydia. “Go, Lydia. Go to your kin. They’re here for you.”

  Lydia’s face ripples and melts like hot wax. She glances away, toward the voices, and then back at Gram.

  Gram holds up her hand like a priest performing a blessing. “God, grant this woman eternal rest. Let your perpetual light shine upon her. Let her pass safely through the gates of death. May she rest in peace.”

  Lydia turns her attention back to me, glaring and floating closer. A blazing heat sweeps over me. Lydia’s anger engulfs me. I’m powerless to stop it.

  “Leave? My home?” She laughs. The sound echoes around the room and inside my head. “Why is she so insistent about this, Eliza? Why should I go when you are finally here?”

  “You’re dead, Lydia,” Gram says. “You killed yourself. You hanged yourself in despair over the loss of your daughter. This is not Eliza. Eliza is dead, too. She’s waiting for you on the other side.”

  Blackness. Like a blanket thrown over my head. I’m drowning. A river of icy water pulls me under.

  Sobbing on the bed. Retrieving the rope from the basement. Knotting it as my body convulses in tears. Grief and guilt and loneliness.

  Standing on a chair, I loop the rope through the woodwork. The night is so dark, the house asleep. The coarse rope cuts the delicate skin of my neck. I like the sensation in a perverse way, a punishing way. Everything is going to be better when the rope is tight and pulling. Pain is what I deserve. Pain will end this unstoppable, wrenching existence.

  I can’t get a breath. The rope is working, but it’s worse than I imagined. My hands grasp and tug, but the cord is too tight. I can’t get my fingers around it.

  “Leave her alone, Lydia. She can’t help you,” Gram says.

  I clutch my neck, gasping for air. Charlie and Mom and Mike look on, their faces frozen in horror. I want to protect them, to make this insanity stop. There must be something I can do.

  “Jade, tell her to go. You need to do it,” Gram says. “She’s fixated on you. She needs your permission now.”

  Gram’s so calm. How can she be calm in the face of this chaos? She acts as though this is no big deal, as if she’s done this a million times. I realize that maybe she has.

  “Go. You don’t belong here,” I say, but my voice is barely audible, more like a gurgly whisper. I’m coughing and gagging, but I’m getting angry, too. Rage fills me like a flood of hot lava because I’m sick and tired of this ghost. She’s suffered for over a hundred years here, and she’s still holding on, trying to find something that doesn’t exist. Redemption? Love? Whatever it is, I know it’s not here for her, and I’ve had enough of her drama.

  Lydia moans. “You don’t mean it, Eliza. You don’t—”

  All the dining room chairs begin sliding around and flipping over. One bumps Gram and knocks her to the floor. The drawers in the enormous hutch fly open, silverware and dishes rattling. Mom rushes to help Gram. Charlie’s hanging on to the edge of the table. Mike stands perfectly still, immobilized.

  I haul myself to my feet. Charlie reaches out to steady me. I’m determined not to be scared, not to back down this time. The worst has already happened, and I won’t let her win. I can’t let her see my fear and weakness, only my strength. Like Gram. I know I can be strong like Gram.

  “You’re dead, Lydia, and I’m not Eliza,” I say as loud as I can muster. “But she’s there. Waiting for you.”

  Lydia stops her antics. The room falls silent, and then the buzzing hum of the voices begins again, rising and rolling in my brain as if they heard me, as if I summoned them.

  “They’re here to take you. They want you to come,” Gram says.

  Lydia turns her head, as if she sees something again.

  “She’s there. She’ll accept you. I know she’ll accept you,” I say.

  Lydia points across the dining room. “Is that her? My Eliza?”

  I can’t see what Lydia sees, but I know with certainty that Eliza’s there, so I’m not lying. Finally, I’m telling the truth. Finally, Lydia will have her Eliza. “Yes! Go. She’s waiting.”

  Lydia floats across the room, but stops halfway and turns back to me one last time. She wears her youthful, human face. A brilliant light envelops her, illuminating her so intensely that my eyes burn. Everyone raises their hands to shield their faces.

  “Oh, my God!” Mom gasps. “I see her!”

  Charlie touches my arm. “Me, too.”

  We stare into the radiance, which is like sunlight glinting off a mirror, and watch as Lydia bobs her head to me. A small, curt gesture. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

  Serenity. I can feel this emotion taking her over, forcing everything else from within her. Her anger and her fear are gone. Maybe she’s finally letting go of this world.

  I bo
b my head in response, knowing in my heart that her torture is over. She’s finally leaving the prison that Fair-Ever has been. She floats away, getting dimmer and dimmer, and I feel a sense of weightlessness too, a lightness I haven’t felt for a very long time, an optimism that I might be all right. Things might work out for me after all, and I know that this is not something to take for granted. Ever.

  Chapter 37

  Gram takes my hands and stares up into my eyes. “You did well, Jade. I’m proud of you.”

  “So she’s gone? Really gone?”

  “Yes.” Gram squeezes my hands before pulling me into a hug.

  “I can’t believe it,” Mom mutters. She drops into a chair, one hand clutching her head.

  Mike comes up behind her, touching her back. “I saw it, too,” he says as if to reassure her of her sanity.

  “Are you okay?” I ask Gram.

  “Oh, yes.” She smiles. “It takes more than an angry spirit to hurt me.”

  When I pull away from her, Charlie touches my elbow. I face him and see that he’s not sure I’m really okay yet. His eyes search mine. After everything we’ve been through, I can’t blame him for being skeptical. It’s been a journey, our journey and Lydia’s journey intertwined, and now finally, she’s been released from her bondage.

  “We did it,” I tell him. “She’s gone.”

  “No. You did it,” he says. “That was all you.”

  And I guess maybe it was. Me and Gram.

  “Jade?” Mom calls.

  I lean on the table as I move toward her. My limbs don’t feel totally under my control yet, but my mother needs me. More than anything, I have to be here for her. Finding out your daughter has paranormal powers and seeing your first ghost makes for a pretty crazy day. She’s going to need some help processing everything that’s happened.

  “It’s okay, Mom. I’m okay now.”

  And I think maybe, for the first time in a long time, this is the truth.

  Gram is in her nightgown and robe, sitting on the edge of the pull-out couch bed.

  “I should stay down here. You should have my bed,” I tell her.

  “This is fine for me. Don’t you worry. You need your sleep.”

  “Will you explain it to me now? All of it?”

  “Yes, yes, of course. Everyone calls us something different, but it’s all the same thing. A medium. A seer. A witch. A voodoo priestess.”

  “Voodoo?” My eyes widen with fear. I don’t want to be some kind of freaky voodoo lady.

  Gram chuckles. “Here, let me get in bed, and I’ll tell you about it.”

  I help her prop up cushions and pillows so she can sit up in the bed, and when she’s comfortable, I make a similar spot for me next to her on top of the covers. She starts her story once I’m curled up beside her.

  “My great-grandmother was a slave on a plantation in South Carolina.”

  A lump forms in my throat. I must look shocked because Gram instantly tries to soothe me.

  “Now don’t get all worked up about the slave stuff. We got nothing to be ashamed about. Papa’s family was slaves, too. But my family, we came from a part of Africa with a religion called Bakongo. They believed that the spirit world was upside down, underneath this one, and the spirits of the dead needed to pass through water to get there. So special people, like me and you, had to help the stubborn, troubled ones to make it. They’d put pitchers of water and upside-down empty pitchers to show the spirits the way and candles to light their path. They’d summon up the voices of the other spirits to beckon them.”

  “So this is a different religion?”

  “Yes, but it’s not ours anymore. We’re Christians now. But this other part, this gift, is deep inside you, too.” She pats my arm. “The spirit part of it anyway. In the end, it’s all the same, and the spirits need to move on. That’s what our wheel means: rolling on. Moving forward. It was also part of the underground railroad. Your quilt is like one they used back then to signal people to get ready to move.”

  “That’s really cool. About the wheel.”

  “And for the ghosts, what’s important is you can help them. Whether it’s heaven or the afterlife or the spirit world. You’ve been given this gift, and you shouldn’t be afraid of it.”

  “What if I don’t want it?” I burrow my head into the pillow, trying to get closer to Gram. This power doesn’t feel like much of a gift, and I marvel at the fact Gram calls it that. To me, it’s more like a curse.

  “Well, you haven’t really got a choice. You see what trying to ignore it has gotten you. And now your parents know. So you should be all right.”

  “So if I wanted, I could put spells and stuff on people?” I ask.

  Gram laughs. “Well, I don’t believe in that, but some people do. Plus, those things are against our church’s teachings, so I wouldn’t if I were you. You don’t want to mess with that part of it. The evil, demonic part is better left alone. You leave it alone, and it will leave you alone.”

  We sit in silence for a few minutes, and I reach to hold Gram’s hand.

  “Was your great-grandmother freed? After the war?”

  She sighs. Her deep brown eyes look tired and sad. “Oh, Jade. I’m not sure you’re ready to hear her story yet. Let’s just say things didn’t go well for her.”

  “How do you know?”

  “My grandma told my mama, and my mama told me.”

  “Well, you should tell me, since you only have Dad. I need to know.”

  This makes Gram laugh again, a throaty chuckle that I love. “Lord, Jade, you are a spunky one. Your father already knows. I should let him tell you.” Gram rubs my arm that’s draped across her waist.

  The story forms in my head as if Gram is transmitting it to me. “I think I know already. Is it possible I can read minds, too?”

  “Well, the story isn’t that uncommon, so maybe you’re guessing. You are very sensitive, though. Intuitive.”

  “Is this why you and Dad are so light-skinned?” I whisper.

  Gram sighs and squeezes my arm. Being with her like this feels right. We’re connected on some deeper level. I’ve always known this, but now the feeling makes sense. Now I know why we share this bond.

  “Loretta was her name, and she cooked in the kitchen at the house with her mother. And the master… well, he took a liking to her, as the masters often did, and that’s how my grandmother was born. And then Loretta was sent out to work in the fields because the missus knew, of course, soon as she saw that baby. Field work was difficult, and Loretta wasn’t strong. She died, and her mama had to raise that baby. Winifred. Like me.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Yes, but then they were freed. And Winifred got to marry and have my mama in freedom. My grandpa had a small farm, and they did okay.”

  “Does Dad have this ability? Like us?”

  “No. For some reason, the gift is stronger in women. I didn’t even know he could give it to you. The sight always came through the women. And then, with your mother being a different race, I assumed you didn’t get it. But when I saw you on the computer, looking so much like my sister, I should have known then. I should have listened to my gut because Livvy was a very powerful medium.”

  “Is that how she died? Because of a spirit?” I touch my key, rubbing my thumb back and forth over it.

  “Yes. Livvy would get called out all over to perform the ceremonies, and one of them… well, it was just too angry. Too strong. She fell from the third story of a building and died.”

  “I’m so sorry, Gram.”

  “After that, Papa didn’t want me going anymore, so I stopped for a while. Now I only go for real close friends. I’m so glad you have Livvy’s key. Something told me that key was meant for you. Livvy’s key was her symbol in the community. Really, the s
ymbols have no power. Some people think they do, but the power is only inside us. The pitchers and the candles and the charms are just tradition, but they’re important because they make us feel stronger and more connected to our heritage.”

  “It does too. The key makes me feel closer to you.”

  Gram smiles down at me.

  “So other races can’t do this?” I ask.

  “No, no. Some can. I’ve heard about others in the Far East and some from eastern Europe. It’s hard to know for sure because people keep it secret.”

  We sit in silence while I try to process everything she’s told me. I don’t know what Gram’s thinking, but I’m trying to get used to the idea that everyone close to me knows now, and I don’t have to live with Lydia anymore.

  I snuggle even closer and lean up to peck a kiss on Gram’s cheek. “I still want to come in August. To visit you and Papa.”

  “Yes. That would be wonderful. We’d like that a whole lot.”

  Chapter 38

  “How are you feeling?” Mom asks from the front seat.

  “Fine. Finally, I’m really fine,” I say. And she and Gram both smile back at me.

  We’re taking Gram to the airport. I wish she could stay so I could ask her questions anytime they pop into my head. I’m sure I’m going to have a ton of them that only she’ll be able to answer. Like how could I have fought off the Sconset Maniac? Is it possible to move on spirits like that? Ones that are that evil? I’ll have to write things down as they come to me and then send them to her in an email. I’m going to try to stay out of spirit trouble from now on, but if I can’t, I want to make sure I do everything right. To move them on and to stay safe—that will be my mission. I think Gram is definitely right about leaving the evil side alone so it will leave me alone.