Cemetery Tours

by Smith, Jacqueline

  “Sounds good.”

  They chatted casually about the restaurant, their favorite television shows (other than Cemetery Tours), and all the things they liked about Dallas while they waited for their drinks. The waiter returned quickly with two goblets and a dark bottle, which he uncorked and poured into their glasses. The wine was the same color as the walls, and Kate realized it wasn’t the kind she was used to drinking.

  “Cheers.” Luke held up his glass. Kate raised her glass and clinked it against his. Then, she took a sip and pulled back, grimacing. Luke laughed. “You okay?”

  “It’s a little bitter,” she answered.

  “If you don’t like it, I can get you a bottle of Chardonnay. You might like that a little better.”

  “At the risk of sounding completely uncultured, what kind is Chardonnay?”

  “White,” Luke replied, grinning at her.

  “Is that the lighter kind?” she asked. Luke raised a confused eyebrow. Briefly, Kate filled him in on her Color Anomia.

  “Interesting.” Luke looked thoughtful once she’d finished. “So you can’t identify colors at all?”

  “Not by their names,” Kate replied. “It’s weird. But the doctors told me that every brain injury is unique.”

  “Just like snowflakes.” Luke sounded so profound that Kate burst into a fit of giggles.

  “Exactly,” she said and took a sip of water.

  “Does it bother you to talk about it? Your accident, I mean.”

  “No.”

  “So what happened?” Kate recounted the whole story to him; how she went for a drive in the snow and wound up with the entire front half of her car smashed up against a tree. “And is that where you had your experience?” he asked, referring to her four minutes of death.

  “No, I didn’t flatline until they had me in the ambulance. Lucky for me, too. That’s how they managed to revive me,” she explained.

  “So do you remember any of it?” Kate tried to assemble the broken pieces of her memory before waking up in the hospital.

  “This is going to sound bizarre, but I think I was in a Starbucks.” If Luke’s face was any indication, he hadn’t been expecting that.

  “Really?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Like I said, it’s all pretty blurry. I didn’t even start to remember it until a few weeks after I woke up. That’s when it all started coming back in bits and flashes. But from what I can piece together, I opened my eyes and there was snow everywhere. I was literally in the middle of nowhere, just surrounded by snow. I had no idea where I was or where I was going. I’m not even sure I remembered my own name. Then, I was in a coffee house. I guess I just figured that was the place to be during a snowstorm.” Now, Luke was smiling at her. “The part I remember vividly, though, was not being able to smell anything once I got there. That scared me. It must have been right before they got my heart going, because I began to panic. I think I even heard one of the paramedics’ voices as they pulled me back. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital three weeks later.”

  “Wow,” Luke said. “Forgive me if I seem creepy to you, but I love that you had that experience.”

  “You love that I died for four minutes?” Kate laughed.

  “No. I love that you can say with certainty that after your body died, you continued to exist. You know, that’s what we’re trying to do on Cemetery Tours. Give people some reassurance that death isn’t the end. That even if you’ve lost a loved one, even if the pain is still there, there’s at least some peace knowing that you’ll see them again.”

  “I like that too,” Kate told him.

  “You know, you said something else earlier that interested me,” Luke said.

  “What’s that?”

  “You said you already knew that your apartment is haunted. Why do you say that?”

  “It’s more of a feeling than anything,” Kate replied carefully. Before she knew it though, she’d told him everything; the break-in, the footsteps, the sensation of being watched, Gavin’s illness, his steadfast refusal to believe in anything supernatural... It all came tumbling out before she could stop it. Luke listened intently, nodding every so often, and didn’t speak until she’d finished her story.

  “Well, I don’t know about your brother, but that sounds like a Class-A haunting to me,” he told her. “It is a little strange that he’s the only one that’s been affected.” As he spoke, a memory from moving day suddenly surfaced, and Kate saw Michael stumbling to get out of Gavin’s room as his health rapidly deteriorated.

  “It did happen to one other person,” she said and told him about Michael. That seemed to strike Luke’s interest more than anything.

  “So Mikey’s been to your apartment?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did he say anything? Or have you said anything to him? About the haunting?”

  “No. I didn’t want him to think I was crazy,” Kate explained, blushing slightly. Why? She was on a date with Luke Rainer. She shouldn’t worry or care about what Michael Sinclair thought of her.

  “Oh, I doubt he’d think you were crazy,” Luke said with the air of one who knew more than he was letting on.

  “Does Michael think his apartment is haunted too?”

  “Oh, he knows it is. In fact, I captured my best EVPs in his apartment.” EVP, the technical term for a disembodied voice captured on a digital recorder, stood for Electronic Voice Phenomena. Kate had learned that watching Cemetery Tours.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. You should ask him about it.”

  “I will,” Kate said.

  “In the mean time, why don’t you and I try a little experiment?”

  “What kind of experiment?”

  “I think after dinner, we should run back to my folks’ place, grab some equipment, and conduct an EVP session with your ghost friend in your living room. It can be your indoctrination into the world of paranormal investigating. What do you say?”

  Chapter 9

  Michael was not having the time of his life, so whoever was singing that song on the radio about hoping he was, well, he could take a hike.

  Since he knew that being at the lake wouldn’t do the trick, he’d hoped that being around his family, some of whom he hadn’t seen in a long time, would cheer him up. That wasn’t happening either.

  It was mostly Uncle Carl’s fault. Nosey Uncle Carl who asked him a multitude of questions about his personal life, and to which all the answers made him sound like a total loser.

  Question: “So Michael, what are you doin’ with your life, boy?”

  Answer: “Shelving books at the library.”

  Question: “For money?”

  Answer: “Yes.”

  Question: “Have any plans for something a little more prest-ee-gious?”

  Answer: “No, I like it there.”

  Question: “Well enough about work. Didja find yourself a lady yet?”

  Answer: “Not yet.”

  Question: “Well, you better get a move on that, boy! What are you now, thirty-five?”

  Twenty-seven, but thanks for that additional kick in the gut, Michael thought miserably. He hated to be the mopey one at the party, but he just couldn’t bring himself to have a good time. And it was all because he knew that right now, Kate was probably having a fantastic night out with him; stupid Luke Rainer and his stupid bad boy charisma.

  Michael tried to at least put on a happy face for his mother, who arrived about an hour later than he did. As usual, she presented herself with natural warmth and grace, though Michael couldn’t help but notice the new strands of gray amidst her dark brown curls as she greeted him with a long embrace. “Oh, it’s good to see you, Sweetheart.”

  “You too, Mom,” Michael replied, breathing in the familiar scent of her floral perfume. It reminded him of joyful family gatherings from his childhood, and he found comfort in the memories. Still, she could tell he had something heavy on his mind.

  “You want to talk about it?” she asked.


  “It’s nothing,” he assured her.

  “I’ve heard that before,” she sighed. He knew it frustrated her that he rarely opened up about his personal life, but he wasn’t sure she’d be any happier if he did. For that matter, he wasn’t sure he would be either. How pathetic would it sound having to tell her that the girl he liked was out on a date with the Ghost Prince of Primetime? Even worse would be having to explain that he’d inadvertently introduced them. But worst of all would be confessing why he knew Luke Rainer in the first place and why, three years later, he was still coming around.

  “How are you?” Michael asked her.

  “Tired,” she admitted. “I know I look it, too.”

  “No, you look beautiful. Like always.”

  “Oh, I raised you so well,” she smiled fondly as Uncle Carl came thundering across the yard toward her.

  “There’s my little sister! There’s my little Dianne!” he bellowed as he threw his arms around her. She winced as he squeezed her against his beer belly, but returned his hug nevertheless. Michael wasn’t sure if it was characteristic of all mothers, but Dianne Sinclair had a gift with people. She was able to see the good in anyone and everyone, and she never had one mean thing to say. She had a way of making everyone feel loved and respected, and everyone loved and respected her in return.

  While the family congregated around Dianne, Michael meandered over to the shore. The sun was just beginning to set, pouring through the trees, illuminating their silhouettes in gold, and casting long shadows across the water. Although he preferred to avoid lakes, he couldn’t deny that it was a peaceful atmosphere. Or it would have been were it not for all the drifting spirits.

  Some of them, he recognized. Like the old man who wandered from boat to boat. Sometimes he seemed content to just sit and watch the water. Other times, he acted like he was searching for something. Maybe a favorite fishing rod or an old pocket watch. Or the young woman who haunted the dock across the lake. He’d seen her for years, pacing back and forth across the same dock. Was she waiting for someone? Or did she genuinely not know that she could leave that spot? Others were new, like the teenage girl screaming hysterically, begging for someone to help her find her lost dog. Michael knew he should have gone to talk to her. He was the only one that could.

  And yet he couldn’t. No matter how guilty he felt, he couldn’t bring himself to approach her. He tried to tell himself that it was for the best. The living weren’t meant to get involved with the dead. When they did, they disrupted that delicate balance that kept the universe in order. That was his excuse, anyway.

  Aside from the ghosts, however, the lake actually was a great place to be. The family’s two-story lake house, wooden with white shutters and a swing hanging from the tree in the front yard, was as homey as ever. As usual, his grandmother watched her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren from the swing on the porch. She glanced over at Michael and smiled at him. She knew he would come see her once everyone else was asleep. Until then, he’d do his best to pretend he had nothing more on his mind than how pleasant an evening it had turned out to be.

  ~*~

  On the list of places Kate had never expected to see with her own eyes, the inside of Luke Rainer’s parents‘ house had fallen somewhere between Antarctica and the dark side of the moon. They’d stopped by after dinner to collect some of Luke’s equipment to take back to her apartment. His parents, Dave and Susan, were as nice as could be. They lived in a modest house and Kate was surprised to learn that despite their son’s success, Dave still worked his day job as a plumber. Susan had, however, quit her job and had since divided her free time between her two passions: quilting and blogging.

  They welcomed Kate and offered her a drink while Luke rummaged through his bags for a digital recorder, a night vision camera, and a substantial supply of batteries. Once he had everything he needed, he wished his parents good night and promised he wouldn’t be home too late, which Kate found adorable (and only slightly disappointing).

  Back at her apartment, Kate wasn’t surprised to find Gavin fast asleep on the couch. She shook his shoulder and whispered, “Gav, you can go to bed now. I’m home safe and sound.”

  “Huh?” he mumbled, only semi-conscious.

  “I’m back. You can go to bed.”

  “Oh.” He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked at her. When he noticed Luke standing over her shoulder, he frowned. “He’s still here.” Kate swatted his arm. “Ow,” he moaned.

  “Yes, he’s still here. Be nice,” she scolded. “We’re going to do an EVP session in here, so get out.”

  “What the hell is an EVP session?”

  “You know what it is! We’re going to ask our ghost questions and listen to the responses on the digital recorder.”

  “Kate, how many times - you know what? Go ahead. Knock yourself out. I’m going to bed.”

  “Good. Good night.” Kate took his seat on the couch as Luke began setting up his night vision camera. Gavin gave one final shake of his head before disappearing into his room.

  “Alright, we’re about ready. Do you want to hit the lights?” Luke said. Kate did as he asked, feeling excited, nervous, and though she hated to admit it, a little scared. What if they actually did make contact with whomever or whatever was inside their apartment? Would the nighttime anxiety become even worse than before? And what about Gavin?

  Once all the lights were off, Kate began to have second thoughts. The room seemed much smaller in the dark, and much too quiet. Slowly, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck began to stand on end, and she scurried back to the couch.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked.

  “Whatever is in this apartment is already attached to you. There isn’t a whole lot we could do to make things worse.”

  “What if we make it angry?”

  Luke was silent for a few long moments before he finally answered, “I don’t want to scare you, but I think it’s already angry.” Kate shivered.

  “How can you tell?” she asked.

  “Working around spiritual energy for so long, you sort of develop a feel for it. You learn to detect different emotions. You can usually tell when something wants to beat the crap out of you.”

  “Is that what he wants?” she whispered, hoping he couldn’t hear the newborn terror in her voice.

  “I don’t think so. I think he just wants someone to talk to,” Luke replied. “And that’s what we’re going to give him.” He handed her the digital recorder, a rectangular device about the same size as her iPod. “Would you like to do the honors?”

  “I don’t know how it works,” she confessed.

  “You just have to push this button.” He showed her.

  “I think you should just hold on to it. You’re the expert.” It really was for the best. Her fingers were so trembly that she would probably drop it, break it, and then the whole session would be over.

  “Fine,” he sighed playfully. “I know you’ve seen how we do this on TV, but just relax, talk, ask questions. After a few questions, we’ll play it back and see if we hear anything.”

  “Right,” she whispered.

  “Okay, here we go.” Although she couldn’t see anything, she heard the faint click of a button being pressed. “Hello?” he began. “If you can hear me, my name is Luke. This is Kate. We just want to talk to you.” He paused, waited a few seconds, and continued. “If you’re here, can you make a noise? Or say something into our recorder? Anything to let us know you’re here.” Kate held her breath in anticipation, but they were met with silence. Luke pressed another button. “Let’s just see if we got anything yet.” Kate could hear the recorder rewinding, and suddenly, her curiosity outweighed her apprehension. Luke hit the play button and his voice came through, sounding digitized and enhanced.

  “Hello? If you can hear me, my name is Luke. This is Kate. We just want to talk to you... If you’re here, can you make a noise? Or say something into our recorder? Anything to let us know you’re here.�
� Kate strained her ears to hear anything through the static and white noise behind Luke’s voice, but there was nothing.

  “Don’t get discouraged. It takes a lot of energy for spirits to come through.” Luke stopped the playback and resumed recording. “If you’re here, we’d really like to talk to you, so if you have something to say, use my energy. Use my camera’s energy.” They sat in silence for a few more moments before Luke muttered, “Woah.”

  “Are you okay?” Kate asked.

  “Yeah, I just got dizzy,” he replied. “Was that you draining my energy?” Kate had seen almost the exact same phenomena on his show. She hated to admit it, but she’d always wondered if maybe he was exaggerating a little for the camera. Now, however, she wasn’t sure.

  Luke stopped the device again and played back what they’d just recorded. Again, his was the only voice they heard.

  “You know, since he or she has been attached to you for so long, they might respond more to you,” Luke told her. “Why don’t you try?”

  “Okay.” Kate cleared her throat as Luke pressed the record button. “Hello? Is anyone there?” she asked. “My name is Kate. What’s yours?” Luke stopped and rewound again.

  “Hello? Is anyone there?” Kate heard her own voice enhanced through the speaker. “My name is Kate. What’s yours?”

  “...Trevor...”

  Kate gasped. The voice was rough, deep, and barely audible, but it was there. Luke was ecstatic.

  “Yes! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” he cheered exuberantly, the way a football fan might cheer for his favorite team at the Super Bowl. “‘Trevor.’ Did you hear it?”

  “I heard it!” she exclaimed. “Oh my God...”

  “Go on! Ask something else!” Luke pressed the button and handed her the recorder.

  “Trevor. Who are you, Trevor?” She paused for a few seconds. “Is there anything you want to tell us?” She let the recorder run a little longer before handing it back to Luke. He rewound it. No response. He pressed record again.