She was only a few steps from the door when it silently swung toward her. Etta stepped out, took the jug, and then disappeared back behind the door. Ariel tried to peek over her shoulder, but saw only a flash of bright red swish past the opening. Another person was in the kitchen. Was she the woman who cooked all the delicious food? Was it Etta’s mother or some other woman hired to help run the house?
"Who's that? She looks like one of those girls out of those hokey Civil War movies you love to watch." John remained where he was, his blue-gray eyes always moving, appraising everything in sight.
Ariel bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. She refused to speak to him, to share any information about the house or its occupants. If she did, she was certain it would come back to haunt her. Taking a deep breath, she fought down the urge to punch him for being so nosy.
Before she could formulate an attack, Etta pushed open the door, struggling with the heavy container. Ariel crossed to her and together they carried the cooler to the front door. The water sloshed back and forth, sending them staggering across the foyer. John remained where he was, watching their struggle, but not offering to help.
Ariel left the front door open, taking two steps in John's direction. "There's your water. Better get back to work now. Don't want to lose your job."
John crossed to her, close enough to brush his shoulder against her breast. "Be seeing you," he murmured. His words were a threat he'd always thought of as a seductive promise.
"I certainly hope not," Ariel returned.
She trailed him to the door. As soon as he was beyond the threshold, she slammed it with every ounce of anger and frustration in her. Clicking the lock into place, she whirled and collapsed against the wood.
"There now, lass, he's gone. He can't hurt you in this house. We won't let him." The Major's voice surrounded her, comforting in its conviction and strength.
Ariel knew he was right. She just wished the Major were flesh and bone instead of warm air and comforting words. She was certain John would try something. It wouldn't take long before he grew tired of hard work just to stay close by. He would try to force her to leave one way or another.
Then what would the Major do? What if John turned his anger on Miss Josephine? She couldn't have that. Maybe it would be better if she moved on.
Ariel retreated to her room to think. What was the best thing to do? Stay and take the chance that John would hurt Miss Josephine or the house? Or leave, disappear, run again, and hope that he couldn’t track her down the next time?
She leaned more and more toward leaving without a word to anyone about her destination, not even Miss Josephine, Etta or the ghosts. That would be the only way to keep John from stalking her for the rest of her life. It would also keep Miss Josephine safe. John was just crazy enough to torch the house if she took too long to turn her thinking to the direction he wanted.
Ariel knew she’d leave eventually, but this was too soon. She loved this house, hadn’t gotten bored with her job or the crazy announcements Miss Josephine seemed to make on a daily basis. She’d even begun to think this house could be the place. The place she belonged. But it wasn’t to be. Tomorrow she would pack her duffle bag and begin her search once more.
That evening she waited until they were seated in the living room to share her news with Miss Josephine. “I’ll be leaving in the morning. It’s not safe for me to stay here. I don’t want John hurting you or the house because of me.” Her fingers knotted in her lap as she waited for Miss Josephine to grow angry for wasting so much of her time and money having Jeffrey Gaines redo all of the paperwork he’d had her sign.
Miss Josephine looked fierce for a moment. “You can’t leave now, child. It’s almost time. You’re the key, the link between this world and the next. I won’t have you leaving when the circle is so close to being broken and life returning to normal.”
7
Confused by her thoughts, Ariel changed her mind so many times through the long sleepless night she was exhausted from lack of sleep. By daybreak, she had a pounding headache and the mattress that cradled her like a cloud now hurt her skin. Rolling out of bed, she scooped up the light cotton gown Etta left across the bed each night and slipped it on. Then she began to pace. Every movement sent arrows of pain through her temples. The pain spread across the back of her head and down her neck.
The ivory fan lying on the windowsill caught her eye. It was a new addition to the room. Maybe Etta had foreseen her miserable night. She spread the panels and flicked it around, experimenting. The movement felt awkward as she fanned her sweat moistened face.
Retreating to the rocking chair by the window, Ariel focused on relaxing. One hand lazily waved the fan around to move the air in front of her face. Between the fan and the movements of the rocker, there was just enough breeze to cool her skin.
“However did women manage with corsets and layers of clothes in this heat?” she murmured.
The scent of lilacs invaded the room, overpowering the rose petals that continued to appear in their china bowl, though Ariel took them to the hall each time she found them.
“Practice and inherited knowledge you’ve never had benefit of. Until now,” the soft cultured voice whispered back.
Ariel didn’t respond. She was too relaxed. Her headache eased so she could lay her head back against the rocker, close her eyes and doze.
Behind her, a pale figure appeared. Her coloring and looks were washed out, but remarkably similar to that of the sleeping woman.
Anna circled the chair, careful not to disturb her last hope, but intent on her purpose. Finally, she sat down in the rocker, disappearing into the sleeping form already there.
Ariel sighed as the two souls mixed, mingled, and shared memories, worries, and abstract thoughts. Outside the window, a new day dawned.
After a while, Anna stood, her strength gone. She immediately vanished from sight, though she remained within the confines of her prison.
She had much to ponder. The memories and visions of the modern world were frightening to her as seen through Ariel’s eyes. But the fact that she’d seen those sights was encouraging. She’d never been able to merge so completely with any of the others. This had to be the chosen one, the one able to share her bodily form with Anna’s spirit. Now she just had to wait patiently for what Mamie called “the window of miracles”. Then she would join her life force with this girl’s body. She would be whole again.
But the world outside was so brutal. Did she really want to do this? Or was it past time to admit she was just postponing the inevitable trip to the hereafter. She’d have to think this through.
Ariel woke from the strangest dream. More than a dream, really. It was as if she’d shared the actual memories of someone else. Anna perhaps? How was that possible? Had Anna performed some kind of Vulcan mind meld with her, thinking of her favorite character on the original Star Trek series?
She would stay. There was no decision to be made there. She had to help Anna, even if she didn’t understand everything that was going on. She loved this old house and Miss Josephine and was even coming to care for the Major, especially since seeing him through Anna’s eyes. He wasn’t the mean, blustering bully she’d thought him to be.
An hour later, she picked at her breakfast while she drank cup after cup of coffee. Normally two cups of the strong brew brought her to life in the morning. Today, nothing seemed to help.
Miss Josephine must have had an equally restless night. Instead of digging into a meal most lumberjacks would balk at, she pushed her food around her plate as well. Once she’d finished eating, the old woman remained in her seat instead of escaping to her bedroom. Ariel glanced at the sideboard, over a fifth cup of coffee. No, one more cup and she'd be walking on the ceiling when the caffeine finally kicked in.
"You've made a decision?" Miss Josephine finally broke the silence after staring across the table into Ariel’s eyes for more than two minutes.
"I agree to your conditions. I'll stay
until such a time as my presence is no longer required,” Ariel folded her hands in her lap, knotting her fingers together.
Miss Josephine nodded. "And you accept the consequences if you leave before that time?"
"Yes."
"Very well then. We'll begin with the kitchen and yard, then the rest of the house. Once we finish, I'm sure you'll want to talk with Mamie. She'll be able to answer your questions." Miss Josephine sounded resigned yet anxious.
When Miss Josephine stood, Ariel popped up as well. "If I'd tried to open the kitchen door before now, would it have opened?" Ariel attempted to sound causal, but the intensity of her voice gave her interest away.
"I'm afraid not. From now on, all doors in the house will open to you. But only to you. Anyone else will assume the doors are locked." Miss Josephine led the way to the door Ariel had been afraid of approaching just one day before.
"Go ahead, child, open the door." Miss Josephine nudged Ariel.
The panel was smooth and unusually warm under her palm. Pushing tentatively, the panel opened several inches. She lifted her hand in surprise and the door swung back into place. She pushed again, opening the door wide this time. She stepped through the doorway cautiously. What would she find?
White walls, no curtains at the windows or decorations anywhere else in the room. Examining the room in one sweeping glance, Ariel didn't think there had been any changes made since the house had been built in the early 1800s.
The stove was a huge, wood burning iron monster. The fireplace took up much of one wall. There were shelves along another wall with bowls and plates and cooking utensils. In the center of the room stood two tables with thick butcher-block tops. Etta stood at the one beside the back door washing dishes in a pan of water. An older version of Etta stood at the table in the middle of the room. She wore a loose green dress similar to the young girl. Her hands were buried in dough piled on the table in front of her.
There were no modern conveniences in the room, as if time had stopped a hundred and sixty years before.
Ariel studied the woman kneading bread. If she was related to Etta, could be anywhere from her thirties to her seventies, depending on what their relationship was.
"Ariel, this is our cook, Mamie. Mamie, this is the new caretaker, Ariel." Miss Josephine introduced the two women, then stepped back.
Ariel waited as the woman called Mamie looked her up and down. It seemed a long few minutes before the woman nodded.
"Miss Josephine, I do believe you're right. She's the one." Mamie finally made eye contact for three long heartbeats, then returned to her dough. "Miss Ariel, ya'll come back and talk to Mamie. I's got the answers to most any question you might think up."
"Thank you Mamie, I just might do that." Ariel glanced around the room again. The appliances she was accustomed to seeing; microwave, stove, and dishwasher were conspicuous in their absence.
Miss Josephine took Ariel by the arm and guided her through the warm kitchen smelling of yeast and baking bread out the back door onto a tiny porch. The area she discovered that lay within the fence brought more questions racing through Ariel’s thoughts.
The area before her appeared a lot bigger than when she'd walked the perimeter of the fence. She'd paced it off and figured it to be about an acre. Unlike the front yard, this area was alive and glowing with health. To her right, just off the porch, stood a tiny house not much bigger than the living room in the house behind her.
Miss Josephine pointed to the tiny building, "That's where Mamie and Etta live, along with Mamie’s man, Josiah. He tends the land and animals. He also makes sure the fence stays secure."
As if he heard his name called, an older man stepped out of the barn located at the back left corner of the enclosure.
He saw the two women on the porch and lifted one hand to acknowledge their presence. He remained where he was and didn't approach as they explored the grounds.
A vegetable garden took a quarter of the available space. Everything planted was nearly ready for picking, the colors blinding in their intensity. The red tomatoes and yellow squash competed with green vines and purple-black eggplant for the eye's attention.
Ariel examined the garden carefully, amazed that such numerous, healthy crops could be grown in such a tiny space. Behind the garden were chicken pens. Josiah stood throwing corn to a dozen hens and several roosters. There were also a handful of chicks some half grown, others with fluffy yellow down racing around, hoping to beat the adults out of some of the feed he scattered about.
The tour moved into the barn where two milk cows and a half grown calf contentedly munched on their hay. In the corner near the door a mama cat was napping as if she hadn't a care in the world. Four kittens curled up next to her, occasionally jockeying for position at mama's belly.
By the time they returned to the house, Miss Josephine was pale, almost gray with fatigue. Ariel didn't push to see the rest of the house immediately. Obviously the old woman had overextended herself.
Once they had returned to the dining room, Ariel took matters in her own hand. Obviously Miss Josephine needed to rest, but wouldn't, until Ariel gave up on her quest for information. "I need a short rest. Your revelations have left me lightheaded with surprise. Could we continue this later?"
"Certainly, child. We'll finish after lunch." With a grateful nod, the elderly lady headed upstairs.
By lunchtime, Ariel felt like Alice down the rabbit hole. She needed to return to her own life for a while to regain her footing in this strange place she’d found herself in. She started by wearing her own clothes instead of the ones Etta laid out for her.
She pulled on her oldest blue jeans and a T-shirt with her favorite cartoon cat on it. She pulled her hair into a simple ponytail. Her shirt was an extra-large. The shoulders dropped halfway to her elbows and the hem hit her just above the knees. She looked like a bum. Or a waif dressed in a giant’s hand-me-downs. But the clothes were comfortable and made her feel better when she was blue. The Major would hate her outfit. The routine of blush, mascara and lip-gloss raised her charcoal gray mood to merely the pale blue of her jeans
Leaving her room, she headed for the staircase. But she could go no further. Her way was blocked. As if one of the force fields from some futuristic space movie had slipped in place in front of her. The invisible barrier refused to give way, no matter what she tried.
"Miss Anna, let me pass. I'm in no mood for games." Her voice was harsh and loud, a petulant child demanding her way.
Miss Anna didn’t answer. Instead, the wall moved toward her, forcing her to retreat back to her room.
"You will change into something decent. You don't want anyone to see you in that shameful costume. And wash that tawdry paint from your face. Respectable women don't dress or use paints like harlots." The voice was as stern as the Major when he found something distasteful about her attire. But this was Miss Anna the sweet, gentle Southern belle who supposedly collected hearts like some people collected stamps.
Once she'd been forced through the door into her room then slammed the door shut. Ariel tried to open it, but it held firm. Miss Anna had secured it using the same ghostly lock the Major used on the front door.
Ariel changed back into the blue calico dress she'd worn earlier. As soon as she was dressed, the door swung open. She didn't speak as she hurried down the stairs to the dining room.
Lunch was silent, each woman lost in thoughts of her own. Etta served the meal, circling the table on feet that didn’t make a sound.
Ariel picked up the letter left at her place. All mail to the house ended up there for her to deal with. Miss Josephine confessed to having no head for business and refused to deal with anything from the outside world. That was the caretaker’s job, she’d explained. Ariel carried the letter with her when she left the table. She passed through the kitchen, then crossed the back yard. Glancing at the letter, she frowned. Why would the Sheriff’s office be contacting them? She hadn’t done anything wrong.
When she pas
sed Josiah he tipped his hat but didn't stop working. She wasn’t looking for conversation. She was looking for a place to do some heavy thinking.
Blinded by the sun, she stepped into the dark barn and paused until her eyes adjusted to the dim interior. It was cooler here and smelled strongly of earth and animals. Bending, she scooped up one of the kittens and cradled it in her arm. The mama cat lifted her head and stared at the human through sleepy eyes.
"Go back to sleep. Your baby's fine," Ariel murmured as she carried the kitten with her. Hiking up her skirt, she climbed the wooden ladder to the hayloft. On her way up, she snagged a rough wool blanket from the peg on the wall. Once in the loft, she flicked opened the blanket and spread it over a pile of loose hay. The kitten mewed softly but didn't try to gain its freedom.
Settling on the blanket, Ariel crossed her legs tailor fashion and allowed the sleepy kitten to curl up in her lap. She opened the letter and scanned it quickly. Then she read it again slowly. Swearing harshly under her breath, she read the letter a third time.
Emily Robbins, in the capacity of historical society president, had filed paperwork with the courts to force ownership of the house. All occupants of the Bradley House had seventy-two hours to produce a valid deed to the house or vacate the premises. The sheriff would arrive in three days.
Overwhelmed, depressed, and unable to come up with a brilliant solution, Ariel tucked the letter into the pocket of her dress, then lay back on the blanket. Disturbed by her movements, the kitten rooted around for a new place to sleep. Ariel closed her eyes and drifted off.
She woke to the kitten licking her face and mewling in her ear. Taking a deep breath, she stretched, feeling better than she had all day. During her sleep her unconsciousness untangled things in her mind.
She’d talk to Mamie about what exactly was going on and what her part was in the mystery of the past. She’d also call Jeffrey Gaines about the new deed. Then she’d sit Miss Josephine down and question her about the necklace and picture she’d found hidden in the jewelry box.
Magic and Shadows: A Collection of YA Fantasy and Paranormal Romances Page 119
