The Ghosts of Summerleigh Collection

by M. L. Bullock

  He gave me a curious look. I knew he wanted to know about my phone call, but I wasn’t going to go there. I’d already set our date off on the wrong foot by running back to the phone to call Hannah. Why make it worse?

  “Nope. I found them outside.”

  “Are you for real?”

  “Of course not. I bought them for you. Unless you don’t want them. I guess I could give them to someone else.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” I said as I grinned back at him. And then I asked playfully, “How is it that you, master carpenter and five-star hash slinger, are still single? Is it because you like to play guitar on your first date?”

  “I see my cousin has been bragging about my musical skills. I’m not the best guitar player in George County, but I enjoy playing even if I do hit a wrong note every now and then.”

  I laughed, happy to think about something besides that phone call. “I’m sure Renee’s exaggerating. I bet you are a stellar performer.” I accepted the flowers and went to put them in the sink, but Jesse caught my hand and gently pulled me back.

  “I might be rushing this, but I’ve been thinking about it all day. Hell, I’ve been thinking about it for months. I’d like to kiss you, Jerica.” He was so close to me I could smell his skin. It smelled clean and had a touch of cedar to it. His hand was warm in mine, and he looked a sight in his gray dress pants and charcoal gray dress shirt.

  Clutching the flowers, I looked up at him. “What have you been thinking about?” I asked as I stepped a little closer to him. There were only a few inches between us now.

  In a husky voice, he pulled me closer and whispered, “This.” And then his soft lips were on mine. It wasn’t quite a chaste kiss, but he didn’t push himself on me. It was sweet and warm and a kiss that I would probably be thinking about long after this night was over.

  Without moving away, I bowed my head a little. I just couldn’t meet his eyes yet. I didn’t want him to see how much I enjoyed it. “I have to admit I’ve thought about it too.”

  He asked even more softly, “Should we do it again?”

  “If we do it again, I’m not sure we will actually make it to dinner. And I think… I think…” And then I caught a glimmer of light out of the corner of my eye. “What is that?” I pulled away from Jesse and walked to the window. The light flashed through the window again, but it wasn’t coming from my house or the yard.

  The light was low and steady now. And it was coming from the attic of Summerleigh.

  Chapter Three—Jerica

  “You did the walk-through, right? There weren’t any lights on when you left, were there?” I asked Jesse, keeping my eyes on the light that was pulsating in the attic. The colors changed subtly, first white, then blue, and then the light took on a strange purple hue and turned white again. It was almost as if some disco ball spun around up there.

  A weird, otherworldly disco ball.

  “Yeah, like I always do.” He was beside me now, both of us staring at the attic window. “I’d better go check that out. It’s possible that I missed one, but I don’t know what the hell could make that kind of light. Maybe one of the guys is having a joke on us, but I’m pretty sure I would’ve seen any light when I pulled up. Might be that we have an intruder.”

  Or it might be something else. No way was that a burglar. Then I remembered Hannah’s admonition. Stay out of the house tonight. Jesse walked to the front door as if he had every intention of going up there this very minute to see who might be plundering around in the attic.

  “Wait. When Hannah called, she warned me that there was a strange energy at Summerleigh tonight. She warned me not to go inside. She’s coming over tomorrow to talk to me about what she knows.”

  “What? What do you mean she warned you?”

  “That was her on the phone when you came in. She wanted me to stay out of the house until she could go with me. There’s something happening, Jesse. She was pretty adamant that I stay out of there.” I chewed my bottom lip and twisted a strand of hair around my finger as I talked.

  “I would never call Hannah a thief or a criminal, but it seems awful convenient that she would ask you to stay out of the house and now we see a strange light in the attic. If you don’t want to go inside, that’s okay, but I should go check it out. I mean, I am the general contractor on this job.”

  Was he pulling rank on me? I was never going to go for that. “If you go, I go.” I grabbed my keys and turned off the lights. “It’s probably just some…” No. I had no explanation for it. “I don’t know.” I really didn’t know, but I was about to break my promise to Hannah. I locked the caretaker’s cottage, and we walked past Jesse’s truck down the gravel path to the back door of Summerleigh. Walking into the house through this door always felt like an intrusion, but the front porch still needed some work in a few places. So for safety’s sake, this was the best option.

  Before Jesse could take out his key, I put mine in the lock and turned it. The new lock was silent as the grave, and the new door didn’t squeak or make a sound. Without turning on any lights, we eased the door shut and hurried through the kitchen and into the parlor. I held Jesse’s hand as we waited to hear evidence of an intruder. We didn’t have long to wait. Footsteps raced up the second-floor stairs, and I could hear someone running down the hall.

  Those weren’t the footsteps of a man or woman. Those were the footsteps of a child. We paused at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Why don’t you stay down here?” Jesse suggested. “Just in case.”

  “In case what? If there’s really someone here, I want to know about it.”

  “Let’s move quietly, then. Take off your shoes.”

  I kicked off my high heels and quietly set them out of the way. Together, Jesse and I climbed the stairs, pausing after every squeak the old floors made. We’d replaced some of the wood, but most of the staircase was actually in good shape. We stopped at the landing and waited again. We heard nothing now. Whoever was up there had to know we were coming because they didn’t make a sound. And we have no weapons! Still holding hands, we stood on the top-floor landing. The long hallway stretched in front of us, but sure enough, there was a low light shining from beneath the attic door. There was movement in the light, as if someone were silently walking back and forth. I clutched Jesse’s hand tighter, and he glanced at me reassuringly with a finger to his lips.

  This was wrong. It felt wrong. There was such a heaviness in Summerleigh now; it felt much heavier than earlier. The place had felt off for days, as if someone were watching every move I made. But now it was like the entire focus of the house was on Jesse and me, and that focus was deadly.

  With faux bravado, I blurted out, “Who’s there?” To my shock, the movement stopped and the light faded. Jesse released my hand and eased down the hall, leaving me behind. His dress shoes were quiet, but the grit on the floor made a light crunching sound beneath them.

  Ugh. I wish I could wash my feet before I put my shoes back on. The doors to all the rooms were open, and blackness poured out from all of them. But I wasn’t fooled by the apparent emptiness. We were not alone. I could feel the presence of someone else here. Someone who wanted to remain hidden. Someone who didn’t believe we belonged here. I didn’t dare call out again since the element of surprise was no longer on our side. We hurried to the door and I reached for it, but Jesse shook his head. He leaned his ear against the wood and listened.

  Nothing. We heard nothing at all.

  I put my hand on the old-fashioned doorknob and turned it with the slowest of movements, but the door wouldn’t budge. Because my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, I could see Jesse’s face clearly. He shot me a curious look, so I removed my hand and he gave it a try. No luck. It was as if it were locked from the inside. And there was no key to it. Who had locked the door? He turned the chipped enamel knob again, rattling it furiously now. The sound echoed through the empty hallway.

  “We know you’re in there. Open this door,” Jesse said authoritatively as
he knocked on it.

  Nobody answered. But then I heard the sound of a long, heavy breath in my ear. And with the breath came the moving of air. Every door on the top hallway began to slam shut. Not together, as you might expect if a blast of wind blew through the house. No. They closed hard, slamming shut one at a time until there were no doors left open. And suddenly the attic door swung wide open and Jesse nearly fell into it. I ran after him and we stood in the attic room, our hearts pounding as we looked around wildly, but there was no one and nothing to see. Nothing except some trunks, a half-dozen stacked crates, an old wooden rocking horse with an angry face, a rusty birdcage and a turn-of-the-century mannequin. There was more junk in here than I remembered from the last time I’d been up here, and certainly more than when Jeopardy Belle claimed this place and dubbed it her castle room.

  “Hello? Who’s in here? We saw your light. Don’t hide from us.” Still not a word, but then my left hand felt cold as if some unseen person had grabbed it. I caught my breath and lifted my hand to look at it. Now my entire arm was cold—no, it was freezing. “Jesse. Something’s touching me. I can feel it.”

  With a worried expression, he said, “I better get you out of here. Come on, let’s go. I’ve got a flashlight in the truck. I can come back and…” His words trailed off as he stared down the hallway.

  My eyes followed his, but at first I didn’t see what he was looking at. Then the strange light reappeared, illuminating the little figure. Yes, I could see him now. The little boy from my dream, the one Harper saw.

  The light vanished, and only the boy remained. He wore knee britches and a fitted jacket with black socks and boots. His hair was black and combed carefully to the side. His face was pale, but his eyes…oh, his eyes were horrible and as black as two endless wells. And then he opened his mouth as if to scream, only no sound came out. His mouth was so wide, and it was black too. There was no doubt that what we were seeing was not a human child. This creature was a ghost, a phantom.

  As I stared unblinkingly, I noticed that he did not move a muscle but stared back, his head bent down a little further now.

  His dark eyes focused on me. He wanted me to die. He wanted Horrible Things to happen to me. I clutched Jesse’s hand again and felt him grabbing at mine. As long as we were together, if we stayed together, we would be okay. I wanted to believe that, but the thing was not moving. His head bent even lower and he squatted on his haunches as if he would pounce on us like a wild animal. Suddenly all of the doors began slamming, opening and shutting furiously. The movement was so violent I feared they would fall off the hinges. What if he tore the place apart and brought Summerleigh down upon our heads?

  From somewhere deep within me, a scream erupted. “No! Stop it!” And suddenly, he vanished.

  The attic door swung silently closed and we were alone again, but the air crackled still. My cry had stopped him, but I did not believe he would be gone forever. We had to go, and we had to go now. Hannah Ray had been right. We should never have come here.

  Jerking Jesse’s hand, I yelled at him, “Come on!”

  Together we raced down the hall. I prayed that the boy would stay away and not pop out at us or try to stop us. Before running downstairs, I paused to look behind me, and that’s when I saw the other one.

  The ghost of a young woman, a teenager, wore a long white dress with a faded rose at her bosom. The front of her gown was marred with dark stains, and her dark hair fell over her pale shoulders as she hovered near the attic. Oh God! She had no feet. She has no feet! She reached out to us and began to move slowly toward us.

  “Run!” I screamed at Jesse as we hurried out of Summerleigh. I forgot my shoes and didn’t remember to breathe until we got into his truck. I was pretty sure the gravel had cut my feet, but I didn’t stop to look at the wounds. We sat panting in the vehicle, but this wasn’t far enough. We had to go farther; we had to get out of there. I glanced up at the attic, which was dark now, and imagined I could feel the boy’s dead black eyes watching us.

  “Get me out of here, Jesse.”

  “Where to?” he asked as he cranked the truck and made the trip around the circular drive.

  “I don’t care. Anywhere.”

  We didn’t talk again until we made it to Lucedale.

  Chapter Four—Harper

  Momma spent most of her days sleeping because she spent most of her nights drinking. Even Miss Augustine hadn’t been to the house in weeks. Knowing Momma, they’d gotten into a big row over some silly thing like who would become the next Miss Magnolia or what the preacher’s new wife would wear to the fellowship Sunday next. Not that we would attend. We hadn’t been to church in so long.

  Loxley spent all her time creating “art” on the floor of her room and the porch and anywhere she found a blank canvas. I’d been happy for her when Mrs. Loper surprised her with a box of chalk for her birthday, but it quickly became a source of contention around the house. Momma didn’t like it when she drew on the floor. I didn’t either, but I didn’t think it merited a spanking. Not Momma’s idea of a spanking, anyway.

  We were stretched for school clothes this year. Addison and I had both had a growth spurt, and our skirts were shorter than they should have been, which would no doubt land us in the principal’s office if I didn’t fix them soon. Mr. Alfred was a notorious stickler for proper skirt lengths. In fact, it was said that he kept a measuring tape in his desk at all times. Only Loxley appeared locked in time and hadn’t grown an inch, except her hair. One night, I spent my time letting out the hems of our skirts and giving my sisters haircuts. Loxley cried at the idea of cutting her hair, but I bribed her with a peppermint stick, one I’d kept since Christmas, and I had to promise to cut no more than an inch. Before tucking her into bed, I braided her hair, and she drifted off to sleep soon after. Her sweet face was all sticky when I kissed her cheek.

  Every night when we got home from school, I hoped I would see Aunt Dot pull into the driveway and come to our rescue. But there was no sign of my aunt, and since the phone had been disconnected, I had no way of calling her to let her know how dire our situation was. Just last night the power went out, and I had a sneaking suspicion that this was further proof Momma was not paying the bills and was spending what little money we did have on gin and cigarettes. I’d scrounged up some candles in a bureau drawer, but that wouldn’t last long. I didn’t look forward to taking cold showers either.

  After I finished fixing our skirts, I was just about ready to go to bed when I heard someone tapping on the front door. It was almost nine o’clock, and we didn’t have callers this late unless it was something serious. I pulled my robe around myself to cover up my flimsy nightgown. I even took the trouble to button the top four buttons. Luckily, I hadn’t set my hair yet. The visitor tapped again. Maybe it’s Aunt Dot? Or Jeopardy?

  “I’m coming.” I was suddenly happy at the possibility of seeing someone I loved. I hurried down the hallway before stepping into the Great Room. I saw no sign of Momma, which meant she hadn’t heard the door. The house was so dark without any electricity, and I regretted not bringing a candle with me. With my hand on the door, I felt a sudden sense of dread and said, “Who is it?”

  “Mr. Daughdrill. Open the door, Harper.”

  I almost never saw my grandfather, and for him to visit our home without Momma preparing us first was highly unusual. I opened the door but kept the screen door latched and said, “Yes, sir?”

  “Where’s your Momma? She’s not answering my phone calls; the operator says the phone has been disconnected. Is that true?” My grandfather was a tall man, probably the tallest man I’d ever seen. He wore a loose gray suit and no hat. Mr. Daughdrill had salt-and-pepper hair, which he kept short, and he was always neat. Even his fingernails were neat. You’d never see dirty nails on him, not like Daddy, who always liked working with his hands. I wondered what Mr. Daughdrill did for a living, but I never had the courage to ask him.

  Almost happy to relay the negative report, I answered hi
m, “Yes, sir. The phone is out, and we don’t have any electricity. I’m sure it’s an oversight on Momma’s part. She’s been so upset, what with Jeopardy being gone and all.”

  “Open the door, Harper.”

  As I flipped the hook up, I noticed I didn’t have to stand on tiptoe anymore to open the latch. I stepped out of the way as Mr. Daughdrill walked inside Summerleigh. For the briefest second, I thought I heard footsteps overhead. But it was probably just my imagination, the old house settling in the autumn heat or some such thing.

  “Where is your Momma now?” He pulled off his suit coat and hung it on the bare coat rack.

  “I think she’s in her bedroom. Do you want me to get her?”

  “No. That’s not necessary. My, you’ve become a beautiful young woman, Harper Louise. So much like your Momma.” His cool hand touched my face ever so briefly. “You go to bed now,” he said, smiling at me in the half-light.

  I shivered but smiled back politely. I rarely received compliments, and to be compared with Momma was certainly a compliment.

  “All right, Mr. Daughdrill. Good night.”

  “Harper?”

  “Yes, sir?” I paused in the doorway of the Great Room that led to our bedrooms. He was only a few feet behind me now.

  “I wouldn’t mind if you called me Grandfather. I wouldn’t mind it at all.”

  I smiled again and answered, “Yes, sir. Grandfather. Good night.”

  I hurried off to my room and closed the door behind me. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I heard my grandfather’s footsteps travel down the hall to Momma’s room. He didn’t yell at her, but his voice was loud and stern at first. I couldn’t quite make out the words. Momma cried and argued with him, but the house soon grew quiet and I fell asleep.

  I woke before dawn, surprised to find that Momma was up too. She wore one of her favorite dresses today, the blue and white checkered one that she usually wore only when Daddy was coming home. It broke my heart to see it. Despite her attempt to put on a happy face, she still wasn’t quite together, but at least she was not wearing a robe and didn’t have lipstick on her teeth. Her hair still needed to be fixed, but she wore a smattering of makeup and had taken the time to put on pantyhose and her newest heels. She had a ladder in her hose, but I wasn’t going to be the one to tell her that.