by Ann Walsh
The old man looked drawn, deep pain lines around his mouth. He nodded gratefully at Alan, and hobbled out of the room, not saying a word.
“Oh, poor man,” gasped Clara Overton. “He’s forgotten. He knows it’s important, but he’s forgotten!”
“Don’t worry about it,” said David, trying to be cheerful. “He’ll probably remember after a good night’s sleep. It’s a technique I use all the time when I’m studying. Leave it to the subconscious.”
“Perhaps he will remember, David,” said Ben. He and Bob, their arms full of file folders and books, were getting ready to leave.
“Perhaps,” echoed Bob. “But don’t forget he is an old man, and people forget more as they get older.”
Basil spoke from where he still sat, cross-legged on the floor beside the box of photographs. “Yes, we forget. But sometimes we remember what others have forgotten.”
“And,” said Joan, “we know our ghost’s last name, so we can keep on reading. But now we can watch for anything to do with the name ‘Hyde’, instead of just reading aimlessly.”
The others nodded in agreement, and began to assemble their own selection of historical material to go through that night. Kelly replaced the diary she had been reading, putting it back in the box where she had found it. “I can’t do anymore tonight,” she said. “It’s school tomorrow, and I’ve got algebra coming out of my ears. I have to do some homework.”
From the kitchen came the sound of running water. “I hope Ed’s taking one of those ‘fool’ pills,” said Alan. “A sprain can hurt more than a break, and he hasn’t let himself get much rest.”
“I’ll go and make sure he’s all right,” said Clara. “I think a nice hot cup of tea might be just what he needs.” The teacher hurried down the hallway towards the kitchen, and the others called goodbye as they went out the front door.
“Want to join us for dinner in town, David?” asked Alan as they walked up the road. “We’ve found a restaurant in Williams Lake that makes superb cheesecake.”
“Sounds great. Just let me check in with Uncle George. I’ll be back soon—around five okay?”
As David headed off towards the commune, Kelly turned to her father and again tried to smile. “Thanks, Dad, but you didn’t have to invite David, you know.”
“I know, little one, but he’s a nice, cheerful young man, and you look as if you could use some cheering up. I figured dinner with David and me would be twice as beneficial. We’ll coax a smile out of you yet, see if we don’t.”
“Sorry to be so miserable, Dad, but I feel as if we came close today, close to finding out what little Emily wants and why she is here. First Naomi, knowing so much without anyone telling her, then the Grinch and all his records and information. Then. . .”
She stopped, staring off into the distance, down the road. “Then what, Kelly?” asked her father.
“Then the Grinch—Mr. Crinchley—couldn’t remember why he had written those letters and numbers on the back of the picture. You could see he was upset, hurting, angry at himself for not being able to remember. He has to remember, Naomi said he had the knowledge that would help, but he can’t remember, and no one can help him. We are so close, yet no closer than we were yesterday to finding out about our little ghost.”
“Don’t forget what David said.” Alan put an arm around his daughter’s shoulder in a comforting hug. “Maybe Ed will remember what that code means, once he’s had a good sleep and feels better.”
“Maybe. And maybe he won’t, and he’ll just hurt more because he can’t remember, and the rest of us will have to keep on reading through his files, hoping we’ll stumble across whatever it is we need to find.”
“It will work out, Kelly, I know it will. Come on, get yourself beautiful for your date with the two most eligible men in Soda Creek this evening. Let’s not talk about it anymore, let’s just worry about whether or not Barvarian chocolate cheesecake is on the menu again tonight.”
“I’ll try not to think about it, Dad. I’ll try. But I don’t make any promises, chocolate cheesecake or not.”
Kelly had tried, pushing all thoughts of the tiny ghost out of her head as they drove to town and ate dinner. And, in spite of herself, she began to feel happier, more content. As David and her father talked and joked, she found herself laughing with them, enjoying the meal, enjoying their company, enjoying her second Sunday dinner out with no dishes to wash. All three of them arrived back in Soda Creek full, happier, and with the stress of the day’s happenings forgotten for the moment.
“Thanks for the dinner, Mr. Linden,” said David as he got out of the car. “Is it all right if Kelly walks me part of the way home?”
“Afraid of ghosts, David?” smiled Alan, then added “Sure. Enjoy your walk. But don’t be long. Kelly still has her ears full of algebra, and tomorrow is a school day.” He went into the house, turning on the front porch light as he closed the door behind him.
“Good to see you smiling again,” said David as he tucked his arm through Kelly’s and they started down the road towards the commune. “You got quite down this afternoon.”
“Dinner fixed me right up,” laughed Kelly. “Do you suppose chocolate cheesecake is addictive?”
“Probably only for redheads,” answered David. He stopped walking and the two of them stood under the large fir tree that shaded Ben’s front lawn. “Redheads are addictive themselves,” he said, seriously. “I find them very addictive, especially Soda Creek redheads.”
“I thought you preferred blondes,” snapped Kelly, remembering David’s girlfriend in Vancouver.
“Not anymore, thank you ma’am. I’ve developed a sudden and. . .” He took her face in his hands, tilting it towards him. “A sudden and deep, very deep, affection for a Soda Creek redhead.” He bent to kiss her, his eyes dark in the night, his hands gentle and warm against her cheeks. And from the night shadows of Ben’s garden, someone giggled.
“Those twins! I’ve had it with them!” David’s hands dropped from Kelly’s face, and he strode towards Ben’s tidy picket fence, peering into the garden. “Tommy! Trisha! Get out of here, you two. Go home.”
Again came the giggle, louder, this time from somewhere above Kelly’s head. “Are they in that tree?” asked David, moving back to the tree, craning his neck to see into the meshed branches. “I don’t know how you put up with those two, Kelly. They need a good spanking.”
He looked up angry enough to climb the tree and administer that spanking himself. Kelly put a restraining hand on his arm and said, “It’s not the twins, David. Listen.”
Again came the soft laughter, louder and longer this time, the high, sweet laugh of a very young child. “It’s not the twins, it’s her,” Kelly said.
David listened, still looking up into the branches above him. “So it is,” he said. “I’m glad she’s happy tonight. Maybe she’s pleased that we’ve found her picture, maybe she knows that we’re trying to help her. But enough is enough!”
He put both hands on his hips, and called out into the branches, his voice stern. “Emily Hyde! Shame on you.”
“Emily,” said Kelly gently, “go and visit someone else for a while, please. Goodnight, Emily.”
“Goodnight, Emily,” David repeated firmly.
The laughter faded, and the ghost was gone. David turned to Kelly again. “Now where were we?” he asked.
Chapter 18
David was waiting for Kelly at the school bus stop the next afternoon. Somehow, she had known he would be. “You’re late,” he said, taking her school bag from her, reaching for her hand.
“It was the twins,” she explained. “They got into a fight after school with some other kids, about ghosts being real or not. They were still in the principal’s office when the bus got there to pick them up.”
“It’s all your fault, Tommy. I’m going to tell Mom.”
“Not my fault. You told them we had a picture of our ghost.” The twins rushed past, ignoring Kelly and David.
�
��Sounds as if those two are in trouble,” said David. “I hope Mrs. Terpen lets them come to the meeting.”
“Meeting? What meeting?”
“The one Naomi wants to have tonight. It’s been a busy day around here, Kelly.”
“What’s happened?” Although most of Kelly’s thoughts during the day had been for David, suddenly all of her concern for the little ghost flooded back. “She hasn’t gone, has she? Emily? Not without saying goodbye to me, she wouldn’t do that.”
David squeezed her hand. “No, she’s still here. And she seems happy. She’s been popping up all over the place saying, ‘Emily home,’ to everyone, giggling the way she did last night. I guess she knows something the rest of us don’t.”
“David, what’s happened?” Kelly sat down on the split rail fence around her yard, zipping her coat against the cold.
“The Grinch remembered something,” said David, propping one foot up on the lower rail of the fence beside Kelly. “He phoned Uncle George this morning, so excited he could hardly talk, and hollered for ‘that Naomi woman’ to get over to his place right away.”
“Did he remember what his code on the back of the photograph meant?” asked Kelly.
“He won’t say,” answered David, “at least, he hasn’t told anyone except Naomi. She was over at Miss Overton’s when Mr. Crinchley called Uncle George and. . .”
“That’s right. Miss O. wasn’t at school today. Is she sick?”
“I don’t think so,” said David. “I suspect she just wanted a chance to talk to Naomi alone. Remember, she asked her if she could. Miss O. phoned our place even earlier than the Grinch did, and Naomi went off to see her right after breakfast. Then, just after the Grinch phoned, Mrs. Terpen got on the party line talking to someone in town, so I had to walk over to give Naomi the Grinch’s message. That’s how come I was there and got to see what was going on. Miss Overton had been crying.”
“Do you think she’s all right, David?”
“I think so. She wasn’t crying when Naomi left, and she gave her a big hug and thanked her. Then she did something really peculiar. She took off that big charm bracelet she always wears, and put it down on the table, and said, “See, Naomi. I shall put my memories away.”
“I wonder what she meant, and what she told Naomi,” Kelly wondered out loud, remembering the teacher’s fear of what Naomi could sense of her private life. “I guess we’ll never know. Anyway, go on. Then what happened?”
“I haven’t a clue,” said David. “I walked with Naomi to the Grinch’s house, and went home. How am I supposed to know what they talked about?”
“David! You’re not being fair. What about the meeting?” Kelly stood shivering. “It’s too cold out here. Come on in and tell me the rest.”
As David washed and Kelly dried and put away the Lindens’ morning dishes, David told her the rest of what he knew. About noon, Naomi had come back to the commune, smiling. But all she had said to anyone was, “It will be all right now. I know what has to be done.”
“That’s all she said?” asked Kelly.
“Yes. Except the next thing I know, I’m over at that old community hall with Uncle George and Miss Overton, knocking down cobwebs, sweeping the floor and setting up chairs. Miss O. got the kitchen cleaned up, and Uncle George started a fire in that big wood heater in there.”
“The community hall? I don’t understand.” Kelly was puzzled. The community hall hadn’t been used for years, although it had once served as the centre of Soda Creek’s social activities, hosting bingo games, potluck suppers, parties and dances. But that had been before the people in the community had gone to war, given up speaking to each other, long before she and her father had moved away from Ontario. Kelly had never been in the old building, never seen it open, the whole time she had lived in Soda Creek.
“We need the hall for the meeting,” explained David. “Naomi says that she knows what has to be done, but that everyone has to help. She wants us all, everyone who has seen the little ghost, to get together while she explains what she and Mr. Crinchley discovered, and then she’ll tell us what we have to do. The community hall was the only place big enough to hold everyone, which is why I spent the day cleaning it.”
“When is the meeting, David?” asked Kelly, now eager to find out what had been learned about little Emily.
“Seven o’clock. You and your Dad are in charge of coffee, so you’d better bring those extra cups of yours.”
“But is that all you know, David? You mean you’ve been here all day while I’ve been at school, with unfinished algebra homework, thanks to you, and that’s all you’ve been able to find out?”
“That’s it,” he admitted. “That’s everything I know. Naomi says she’ll tell us all together this evening, and the Grinch isn’t talking to anyone. That’s every single thing I’ve been able to find out, except. . .” He looked at Kelly and his face changed, the lightness draining from it. “Except I have to go home too, Kelly. Back to Vancouver. Tomorrow. She phoned and she wants me home for Christmas. We haven’t had time to think about it but Christmas is only five days away and. . .”
But Kelly had stopped listening. “She! She has to take you back, take you away, just when . . . Oh, I hate her, I hate her!”
“Hate her? My mother? Kelly, what’s wrong with you? Mom phoned because it is near Christmas and she wants me home, with my family.”
“Your mother? Oh.” Kelly turned away from David, staring down into the dishwater, trying to hide the blush she could feel spreading across her cheeks. “Sorry,” she said, her voice nearly inaudible. “I thought. . .”
“You thought it was Laurie who wants me home. Oh, Kelly. You’re still jealous, in spite of everything, in spite of last night. Here.” He turned her towards him, his hands on her shoulders. “I told you, Kelly, I told you last night. You’re addictive, and I’m hooked. There’s no one else anymore, not Laurie, not anyone.” He kissed her gently. “No one but you, Kelly,” he said again.
“Sorry,” said Kelly, “sorry, I. . .” And then the full impact of what he had said struck her. “You have to leave,” she said in a small voice. “You have to leave. Tomorrow.”
“Yes,” he answered. “But I’ll be back, Kelly. I promise.”
“When?” Kelly’s voice shook as she asked the question. “When will you be back, David?”
“After Christmas, for a bit. I’ve got to get back to university, Kelly. With being sick, I’ve lost some of my year, but I can pick up a few courses that start in January.”
“And after that? After the term is over? Will you come back this summer?”
“Yes!” His voice was sure, and he pulled her close to him. “I’ll come back as soon as my last exam is over. I’ll find a job around here; maybe at Gibraltar Mine . . . maybe Uncle George can hire me as official cow milker or something. I promise I’ll come back, Kelly.”
Again he bent to kiss her, but she twisted her face away. “I wonder, David. I wonder if. . .”
The front door slammed behind the twins. “Kelly, did you hear?”
“The Grinch remembered all about the photo.”
“Yeah. He and the witch-lady are making a meeting for everyone tonight.”
“We’re going, and Mom and Dad too.”
“Mom says we’re going to find out how to make the ghost go home.”
“It’s going to be like a good-bye party for the Emily ghost.”
Kelly pushed away from David. “Both of you,” she said. “You and Emily, you’re both leaving.” She turned her back, walking away from him, not hearing him call her name, walked down the hall towards her bedroom saying over and over again, “Both of them, both of them.”
“Wait, Kelly, listen. . .” David followed her, pleading, but his words made no sense. She pushed open the door of her room and there, perched on her bed smiling, was the little ghost.
Kelly took two slow steps towards the tiny figure. “Emily,” she said, “Emily, don’t go. I don’t want you to leave. Stay
here. Please, don’t leave, not you too.”
“Kelly!” David had come into the room behind her and he put an arm around her waist, pulling her to him firmly. “Kelly, don’t do that to her. She has to go, you know that. Both Basil and Naomi think that the stronger she gets here, in this life, the longer she stays here, the harder it will be for her to go where she belongs, where she wants to be. Don’t try to keep her here, don’t let her see you cry because she’s leaving.”
Kelly turned to look at him. “I can’t let her go, David,” she said.
“You can, Kelly. You can, and you must. I know how hard it is for you. But you love her, don’t you? Show your love. Let her go.”
“Kelly?” said the small ghost, the smile fading from her face, her eyes widening into tears. She reached out her arms to Kelly, the way she had that first night, the bow around the golden ringlet swaying as her body moved. “Emily home? Please, Kelly?”
David was right, Kelly knew that. And Clara Overton had been right, too, when she had said that you can’t keep a ghost around as if it were a stray kitten, no matter how much you wanted to. And why, Kelly wondered, did she want so badly for the little ghost to stay in Soda Creek? Why did the thought of Emily leaving upset her so much?
It didn’t matter. A ‘party’ was what Trisha had called the meeting tonight. A good-bye party. No matter how much it hurt, Kelly knew that she had to smile, to encourage the little ghost to leave Soda Creek, move out of the real world and go back to whatever insubstantial, spiritual or ghostly place she belonged. A good-bye party. Not a funeral. Not like when her mother. . .
“I know, David,” said Kelly softly. “I know I have to. I’ll try.” She stepped closer to the ghost, making her lips say words that her heart didn’t wish to be said. “Yes, Emily. You’re going home. We’re all going to help you go home.”
The small ghost’s face changed again, the smile that she had worn so frequently in the last few days returning. Then she wavered, grew translucent, and was gone.
