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A Perfect Storm

Page 4

by Phoebe Rivers


  “Have you seen Lady Azura yet today?” I asked.

  “She’s actually in her séance room,” said my dad. “She was up unusually early this morning. She’s been scoffing at me for months about my disaster preparedness, but I think now she must be pretty relieved at all the precautions I’ve taken with this house. I think I heard her in there, stashing breakable stuff away.” He grinned. “I tried to explain to her that we live in a different world now. With global warming and the polar ice caps melting, these big storms are unfortunately becoming the new normal.”

  “Do you think Mom’s dresses up in the attic will be safe?” I asked him anxiously.

  “Are they closed up in the cedar storage room?” he asked. When I nodded, he smiled at me reassuringly. “They’re going to be fine.” He gave me a kiss on the top of my head and walked out.

  As soon as he’d closed the door, I hurtled through the velvet curtain and into Lady Azura’s room, eager to ask her about the sailor spirit.

  I was not prepared for what I saw.

  Lady Azura was buzzing around her room, arranging crystals and setting out incense, a slightly stricken expression on her face. And milling around her, in every square inch of space in that room, were perhaps two dozen spirits. I realized that the dull white noise I was hearing was the sound of a lot of spirits talking all at once.

  It seemed our séance the night before had worked. All too well.

  Lady Azura noticed me almost immediately. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here, Sara,” she said. “I’m going to need your help. I sense a great deal of atmospheric disturbance both outside and in here.”

  I raised my eyebrows. I realized she couldn’t actually see the spirits in here the way I could. But she could sense them. I wondered if she even knew just how many of them were sharing her space at that moment.

  “Dahling,” said a low voice. A woman spirit drifted toward me. She had to be the spirit of an old-time movie star. I couldn’t remember her name; it was someone Lady Azura had loved as a girl, and Lily knew her too. Lily is an old-movie buff.

  Her hair was platinum blond, her lips painted dark red, her gown silky and clingy and tightly wrapped around her figure all at the same time. “You requested the pleasure of my company,” she continued in her low, throaty voice, “but I must say, I had anticipated something a bit less . . . crowded. I am, after all, accustomed to a private dressing room.”

  She was obviously a movie star who was used to some pampering, I thought. Before I could respond, another spirit moved toward me.

  “Hey, dollface,” he said. This one was a man wearing a pin-striped suit, shiny shoes, and a low-slung hat. I think I remember my dad saying it was called a fedora. He, too, looked like an old movie star, or maybe a private eye or something. “That your grandmother?” he asked, jerking his head toward Lady Azura.

  I was a little taken aback by the look on his face. “Um, yes. I mean, no, my great-grandmother.”

  “Well, she looks pretty swell from fifteen feet, and even better from five,” he said.

  What on earth was he talking about? I think he was paying Lady Azura a compliment, but I wasn’t sure. When I glanced over at Lady Azura and saw the pleased smile on her face, I decided it had definitely been a compliment.

  I shot her a What now? look.

  She beckoned me toward her with a small upward gesture of her chin.

  I maneuvered through the crowd of spirits and pulled up a chair very close to her.

  “The storm must have caused a glitch in the atmospheric pressure and created a delayed response to our summoning the spirits,” she said. “In other words, they’re coming out of the woodwork. I think they were all lined up last night, waiting to get in from our thwarted séance, and now they’re all coming through at once, clamoring for instructions and help for how to get back where they came from.”

  This information was a relief, actually. I’d been so bothered about the idea that I had blocked Lady Azura’s summons without knowing I was doing it. So it hadn’t been me after all. It had been the storm. The weird pressure. Still. We had to get rid of these spirits.

  “What should we do?” I asked her in a quiet voice. For the moment, I forgot all about the spirit upstairs and his message from my mother.

  “I’m trying to clear the air a bit with my crystals and meditation, just to halt some of the confusion before you and I can send everyone on their way,” she said.

  Lady Azura and I spent the next couple of hours speaking to one spirit after another, politely directing them back to wherever they’d come from and making them think it was their idea, and not ours. I was exhausted by the time we’d gotten rid of the last one—fedora guy, who’d clearly developed a crush on Lady Azura.

  As soon as the last spirit had shimmered away and we were left alone, Lady Azura and I sank back into our chairs and exchanged relieved looks.

  And then I remembered why I’d come to see her in the first place. I asked her about the sailor spirit I’d seen in the blue bedroom.

  “Ah, yes, Duggan,” she said.

  “Duggan? Do you know his story?”

  “I need a cup of tea. Come with me to the kitchen, and I’ll tell you what I know of him.”

  I did, and a few minutes later we were sitting at the kitchen table, me with a bowl of cereal, my second breakfast of the day, and my great-grandmother with her small hands curled around a delicate cup full of steaming tea.

  “Duggan lived a very long time ago,” my great-grandmother began. “He died in the year 1821. The house he lived in was here, where the present one now stands, but it was torn down not long after he died to make room for a bigger house.”

  “Was he a sailor?” I asked. “He looks like one.”

  “He was a shipbuilder,” she said. “My dear old friend Harry Jamieson, who died a decade ago, was the town’s historian for many years. I learned a great deal from him about the history of Stellamar. It seems there was once a shipyard where the boardwalk now stands, and Duggan was the master builder there.”

  I set down my spoon. “Is it right where Scoops is located?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “That explains why I saw Duggan outside Scoops.”

  “Ah,” she said, nodding her head as if the pieces of a puzzle had just fit together in her mind. “And it would also explain why I have only sensed his presence in the house infrequently. He probably spends whatever time he is here upstairs in the blue bedroom, which has the best view of the ocean. I’ve noticed over the years that he tends to appear before big storms. Harry told me that Duggan died during a famous hurricane. It made landfall at Cape May in 1821.”

  “How did he die?”

  “I’m not certain, but Harry said there were a great many casualties from the storm. In those days people had little warning before a storm struck. I suppose he must have been swept out to sea while working at his shipyard.”

  I considered this. I hadn’t paid much attention to what Duggan had been muttering, but it did seem to have been about storms. “He seemed to know my mother,” I said. “Or at least, I think that’s what he said.”

  “Yes, that’s quite possible. Natalie spent some time at the house growing up. A Thanksgiving here, a Christmas there, a week of summer every so often. It’s very possible that Duggan remembers her.”

  “But I think he really knew her,” I persisted. “At least, I’m pretty sure he told me my mom left me a message. Could she have been able to see him and talk to him when she was alive?”

  For a moment, I thought I saw a startled look on Lady Azura’s face. But it was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sara, but your mother couldn’t see spirits. Our family powers skip some generations. Your mother did not have the gift.”

  “But anything is possible,” I said a little desperately.

  “Yes, my dear, anything is possible,” she agreed. “But Natalie did not have powers. I would have known. I sensed it in you right away, didn’t I?”r />
  She was right about that, but I wanted to believe what Duggan had told me. That my mom had left a message for me.

  “Or maybe she sent me the message after she died,” I said, more to myself than to Lady Azura, who had gotten up to plug the kettle back in. “Maybe she can’t talk to me for some reason and is trying to communicate through him. Duggan.”

  Lady Azura considered what I had said. She seemed to be speaking even more carefully than usual when she responded. “There is a theory,” she said slowly, “that those of us with powers to communicate with spirits in this world have more difficulty communicating with the living after we have passed over.”

  “So,” I said eagerly, “if my mother could see spirits, that explains why she hasn’t appeared to me. Is that what you mean?”

  Lady Azura turned around and leaned against the counter, her eyes closed, as though she was trying to think of a way to let me down gently. “My dear, I am quite sure that Natalie had no powers. There must be some other explanation for what Duggan meant, and we can certainly figure it out. We can ask him the next time we see him.”

  “But what if—”

  “Your phone,” Lady Azura said, gently interrupting me as she pointed to the vicinity of my chair.

  My phone was buzzing. I pulled it out of my jeans pocket and checked it. It was a text from Mason.

  “Sorry,” I said to Lady Azura. “It’s a friend of mine who lives closer to the ocean than we do. I’ve been waiting to hear from him, but it can wait a few minutes.”

  “Nonsense,” Lady Azura said, practically shooing me away from the table as she stood up herself. “I sense this text is important. Go on, and we can discuss this later.”

  I had the impression that Lady Azura didn’t want to talk to me anymore about my mom, which was strange, because she had always been willing to answer all my questions about her in the past. Why was she shutting me down now?

  Just then my phone buzzed again as another text from Mason came in. Maybe Lady Azura was right and Mason’s texts were really important. I scrolled through the long message.

  PARTS OF HARBOR ISLE ARE UNDER A MANDATORY EVACUATION. LOOKS LIKE OUR NEIGHBORHOOD WON’T BE EVACUATED, BUT MY PARENTS ARE TALKING ABOUT LEAVING ANYWAY. MY MOM IS KIND OF FREAKING OUT. MY DAD IS OUT BUYING SUPPLIES. HOW ARE THINGS IN STELLAMAR? THIS IS TOTALLY INTENSE, RIGHT?

  I texted Mason back, and we went back and forth a few times.

  YEAH. IT IS DEFINITELY INTENSE. NO EVACUATIONS HERE SO FAR. BUT I AM HATING THIS HURRICANE STUFF.

  HEY, LOOK AT THE BRIGHT SIDE. MAYBE THE POWER WILL GO OUT AND WE’LL GET TO STAY HOME FROM SCHOOL.

  THAT WOULD BE AWESOME! BUT MAYBE NOT SO AWESOME IF ALL THE LIGHTS GO OUT! WE’D BE LIKE THE PIONEERS, HA HA.

  After I hit send, I cringed. Was it dorky to joke about pioneers? And anyway, did it mean anything that Mason had texted me to check in? Was he worried about me? I’d have to tell Lily and see what she thought.

  The rest of the day was pretty busy. My dad and I spent the afternoon visiting elderly people on our block and in other parts of the town, helping them seal their windows and check their generators, and going to the store to bring them batteries and flashlights and bottled water. Lily and I had stayed up pretty late the night before, so I was exhausted when I finally climbed into bed that night. Jittery as I felt about the storm, I fell asleep almost immediately.

  Chapter 7

  I didn’t have the dream that night, or if I did, I don’t remember it. I slept soundly but woke up earlier than I usually do on a Sunday morning. It was very dark in my room as I glanced at the clock. Only seven thirty. Maybe it was the atmospheric pressure in the air that kept me from rolling over and falling back asleep. For whatever reason, I was wide awake.

  I stepped out of bed and groped my way over to my window. Parted the curtains. Remembered that everything was all shuttered up tightly. I couldn’t see outside. No wonder it was so dark in here.

  Dressing quickly in jeans and an old sweater, I headed downstairs and opened the front door to look outside. The wind had picked up. A lot. Dry leaves danced around in circles across the front walkway. The trees in the yard were whispering and whooshing and swaying back and forth. My hair whipped around my face, in my mouth, my eyes. As I stood there, it began to rain. Fat drops plopped on the front walkway, quickly darkening it until it was shiny and wet. The rain came down harder. Hastily closing the door, I stepped back into the front hall to find my dad emerging from the basement, wiping his hands on a rag stuck into his back pocket.

  “Hey, kiddo,” he said, giving me a tired smile.

  “Hey, Daddy. So what’s the latest news on the storm?”

  “Things are speeding up. It’s due to make landfall by noon,” he said. “Come on. Let’s go out for breakfast. There’s a diner still open in Ocean Heights, and we may as well support our local businesses while we can. And I have a truck full of water, diapers, and long-life milk I promised the church I’d deliver to the shelter over at the high school. Hope my tarp keeps things dry.”

  So after a quick breakfast, we spent the morning doing more storm preparedness stuff. It kept me so busy I didn’t have time to worry about how nervous I was about the storm. I think that might have been my dad’s intention all along.

  As we drove back toward our house around eleven, there were already lots of small branches down on the road, and it was starting to rain sideways. The windshield wipers were going full speed, and still it was hard to see. My dad pulled the truck into the small garage, and he and I dashed for the house, lugging the last few bags of supplies. We stepped into the kitchen to find Lady Azura calmly reading the paper.

  “The pair of you look like you swam here,” she said, eyeing us standing on the mat in our dripping raincoats. “Drape your coats over the pantry sink and come have a cup of tea.”

  My dad and I peeled off our coats. With the windows shuttered, I couldn’t see what was happening outside, but I could hear the wind, which rattled the house and seemed to have grown louder in just the past few minutes. I wasn’t sure the kitchen, with all its windows, was the best place to be right now.

  My dad must have agreed with me. “I think we’d be better off in an interior room,” he said. “Why don’t we all head for the pantry?”

  Lady Azura looked like she was about to object, but then we heard a loud bang and the crack of what might have been a large tree limb breaking away, followed by a thud. The lights flickered, but stayed on. Without another word, she picked up her teacup and led the way into the pantry off the kitchen, the two of us following, a tiny queen trailed by her loyal subjects.

  It was pretty big, as far as pantries go. Lady Azura had told me before that people used to call it a butler’s pantry. There was a small table with three beat-up old stools, and counter-to-ceiling, glass-paneled cabinets. While my dad made a few trips back and forth from the kitchen to the pantry, carrying flashlights and candles and stuff, Lady Azura pulled open a drawer and drew out a deck of cards.

  “Are those, like, fortune-teller-type cards?” asked my dad, stopping what he was doing and eyeing the cards warily.

  Lady Azura smiled. “No, Mike, dear. They’re just cards. I thought we could—”

  There was a crash of thunder and then the lights went out, plunging us into darkness.

  I gave a little surprised squeak. But a second later my dad had turned on a flashlight, and then a camping lantern lit the small room up with a warm glow.

  “I’ll shuffle,” said my dad with a wry grin.

  The three of us sat down to play. We played Hearts, and gin rummy, and even Go Fish—which had been my favorite game when I was a little kid. We played for what felt like hours, but I wasn’t bored for a second. Despite all the madness that was going on outside, I felt warm and safe and happy. At one point my dad ventured out into the kitchen with a flashlight and, promising to be super alert and careful near the windows, made us some grilled cheese sandwiches on the gas-powered stove.

  While m
y dad was preparing our lunch, Lady Azura and I talked more about Duggan.

  “Have you seen him your whole life?” I asked her.

  “I used to see him often when I was younger. He frequented the blue room on the second floor if I recall correctly.” She smiled wryly. “But as I haven’t been upstairs in years, I haven’t seen much of him.”

  I nodded. Waited. You couldn’t rush Lady Azura into giving you essential information. You had to let her tell you on her own terms.

  “I used to see him just before a big storm. He seemed to appear just as the weather was about to turn, and then he’d disappear again. Perhaps to where his old shipyard used to be. I never really put it together before now, but he seems to be drawn out by the weather. It makes sense, given the circumstances of his death.”

  “Well, that was where I saw him on Thursday. Where his shipyard used to be. Just outside Scoops. But he doesn’t seem to know or care if I can see him.”

  “Yes, he was always rather gruff,” said Lady Azura primly. “But he was from another era.”

  Because Lady Azura seemed to be more comfortable talking about Duggan now, I decided to bring my mom up again. I took a deep breath and plunged right in. “I’m positive he told me that my mom had left a message for me. I know it sounds crazy, but I got the impression that he has something more to tell me about her. Can I go see if he’s upstairs?”

  Lady Azura pursed her lips. “Best wait until after the storm,” she said.

  And then my dad came back with a platter of grilled cheese sandwiches, which ended the conversation about Duggan.

  But I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I had to go find him, talk to him. See what he had meant about the message.

  We ate our lunch, and then my dad made tea for Lady Azura, and it wasn’t long after she’d finished her first cup that we became aware that the winds seemed to have died down, and that the rain wasn’t pounding down with so much force anymore. The storm seemed to have passed.

  We all headed into the kitchen, and my dad opened the door. Lady Azura and I followed him out onto the stoop.

 

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