The Ghosts of Summerleigh Collection

by M. L. Bullock

  “But Harper…you still see Harper,” Hannah said wide-eyed. It wasn’t really a question.

  “Yes. I have dreamed about Harper a few times recently. Her grandfather, the man who murdered Jeopardy, is coming around again. But if he’d done anything to Harper, I would’ve known about it. She would have told me. We were friends, and if she suspected he had anything to do with Jeopardy…”

  Hannah reached across the table and held my hand. “When you’re dealing with the supernatural, it’s really important that you don’t assume anything. I know that’s hard when your emotions are involved, but it may be that Harper wants you to know something. Something that will help you.” She patted my hand one last time and sat up straight. “I think we should take a walk, Jerica. Let’s go check out the house.”

  “I don’t want to put you in further danger, Hannah.”

  “It’s the only way I can help you, and I have my protection now. I have no one to blame but myself for that last incident. I know better than to walk into a place like Summerleigh without preparing. Lesson learned. Let’s go check it out. Unless you want me to go by myself?”

  “No way. You should know that Jesse and I both saw the boy with the black eyes last night. He was on the top floor, and I got the distinct impression that he did not want us there.” We rose from the table, and I put my cup in the sink. I locked the back door, and we stepped out the front into the warm sunshine. I hadn’t noticed how chilly it had become in the cottage.

  “Tell me what happened, and don’t leave anything out,” she prompted me as she pulled her purse higher up on her shoulder.

  “Jesse and I were in the kitchen, and we saw a light moving in the attic. It wasn’t like a flashlight beam, more like a strange disco light. There were different colors; first white and then blue and purple and then white again. And it moved around, so it kind of looked like someone was having a party in the attic. I told Jesse what you said about not going in the house, but like I said, we couldn’t ignore it.” I closed the front door behind me and locked it before we walked down the gravel path toward the front door of Summerleigh. I could avoid going through the back door in the daylight.

  “And?”

  “We heard what sounded like a child’s footsteps, so we went up to check it out. When we got to the end of the hallway on the second floor, we could see the light shining under the door, and you could see the shadows of someone passing through it. While we were busy trying to open the door, the boy appeared at the end of the hall. The doors started slamming—I mean they were slamming so hard it sounded like they were going to be ripped off the hinges. I won’t lie; I was scared out of my mind. I don’t know what I would have done without Jesse. The sound kept getting louder and louder.” I put the key in the door of Summerleigh and turned it slowly. “I couldn’t take it anymore, so I screamed. I said, ‘Quit it!’ or something like that, and it all stopped. Jesse and I didn’t waste any time getting out of there.”

  “Interesting. He listened to you. He must know that this is your place now. Still, I can’t imagine he’ll go without a fight.”

  We stepped inside the Great Room. I left the door open because the air was so heavy that it felt like it might smother me. “I almost forgot, Jerica. I made this for you.” Hannah dug inside her purse and retrieved a necklace. After untangling the chain, she handed it to me. It was a silver chain with an odd blue pendant. “This will protect you while we’re here. Let’s go upstairs to the center of the activity. Funny, though, I don’t feel any of the Belles in here. Not even John, the father.”

  As we walked toward the staircase, I sighed sadly. All of the happiness and goodwill that I felt earlier this week, all the hard work we put into restoring Summerleigh, seemed so worthless now. Perhaps Ben Hartley was right. This place was cursed.

  “Oh yes. The boy is here. Such an unhappy entity. Definitely human, so at least there are limitations to his power. But I get the sense that he is…” Hannah paused on the stairs and looked behind her.

  “What? What is it?”

  “It’s just a voice, a droning in my ear. Don’t you hear it?”

  I shook my head but listened for a minute. The hair all over my body crept up. “Let’s keep going. I’ll see if I can communicate with the boy, but if he’s anything like last time, I’m not sure how successful I’ll be. If we can figure out what he wants, maybe we can help him move on.”

  I remembered something important from a dream I had recently. “I forgot to tell you, Hannah. Loxley, the youngest Belle girl, admitted to Harper that she was the one who cut up her dress with the scissors. She said the boy wanted her to do it…and in fact, he was the one who gave her the scissors. And I remember Jesse mentioned once before that Mariana McIntyre was murdered with a pair of scissors. I’m not sure if that means anything, but I figured I’d tell you.”

  Hannah nodded as she clutched her purse and whispered to herself. With nervous hands, she removed a small electronic device from her pocket. She clicked the button, paused on the top stair and then slowly began to move down the hall, looking through each open doorway as she went. I followed a few steps behind her.

  Was she praying? Maybe I should pray too?

  Hannah said, “Little boy, I know you are here. We’re not here to harm you, but you cannot harm us either. We need to know, are you a McIntyre? Was Mariana your sister?” She waved her recorder around and then walked into the room that the Belle girls always referred to as the nursery. It was as silent as the grave. We waited but heard nothing except the sound of scurrying somewhere. Oh great, please don’t let there be mice in here.

  “Oh yes, you like it in here, don’t you? This was your own little kingdom, wasn’t it?” I heard a bumping sound coming from the nearby closet, but Hannah didn’t react to it. She continued to walk around the room and finally put her device in the window. “This lady owns this house now. This is not your house anymore. There are no children here for you to play with. You should go, be with your family.” Another bumping sound came from the closet, and I was feeling less comfortable by the second. “Why are you hiding from us? I’m not opening that closet door. We’re not playing with you. You need to leave.” The door handle on the closet began to shake as if an invisible hand tugged on it. I stepped back and stood in the corner of the room, my pulse racing and my hands sweating. Hannah extended her hand behind her and waved at me to calm me down. I tried to keep cool, but it wasn’t working. She waved at me again and looked back at me, lifting her chin to prompt me to speak.

  “My name is Jerica Poole. Summerleigh is mine now. I don’t want you here.” The door to the closet flung open, but there was nothing inside. Not a strange boy with a hateful stare. No lady in white. Not even a coat hanger. All I could see was a dust-covered floor.

  Hannah stepped up beside me. “Let’s go, Jerica.” As she went to retrieve the device from the window, it flew across the room and smashed against the opposite wall. I shrieked and did a side step, but Hannah didn’t flinch. We both raced over to examine the damage. Hannah retrieved the batteries that had flown out the back. It didn’t look like anything else was wrong with the machine. She popped the batteries back in, slid the back on and turned on the power. “It’s still working,” she said to me with a frown. Then she said loudly, “That was not very nice. We’re leaving this room, and you cannot follow us. Remember, we are protected.” Hannah made the sign of the cross, and I did the same. We walked out of the room, leaving the bone-chilling cold behind.

  “You okay?” she asked as she patted my shoulder.

  “Yeah. Just startled me.”

  “Let’s head toward the attic. I think we should leave him alone.”

  “Does that happen a lot?”

  “Some ghosts are intelligent, meaning they know what’s happening. They may not understand that they are dead or that they exist in a different time, but they are intelligent nonetheless. I’ve found that most are not mean, but some are. I have the feeling that if we could ever discover his name, it wou
ld help us. He respects you, for some reason.”

  I whispered to her, “Is this other one, Mariana, intelligent also?”

  “I’m not sure yet. She’s intelligent enough to want to avoid us, but she might tell us what we need to know. There is certainly a residual aspect to her haunting, meaning she does the same thing over and over. She likes visiting the same places; she feels at home.” We walked to the attic, and to my surprise, Hannah stopped and knocked softly on the door.

  “Mariana? My name is Hannah Ray. My friend Jerica is with me. May we come in?” I reached for the doorknob, but Hannah touched my shoulder. “No. We can’t go in.” She stepped back and stared at the door.

  “What? Why?”

  “Let’s leave. I think I need some air.”

  “Okay,” I said as we walked back down the hall. I purposely did not look into the nursery as we passed by. I hurried down the stairs probably quicker than I should have and nearly tripped on the last step, but Hannah caught me. “Thanks.” We walked outside, and I locked the door behind us. It felt good to stand in the sunshine. Hannah began to walk away from the house, and I caught up with her.

  “Nothing can follow us. No one can follow us.”

  Okay, that’s worrying. “It’s not good, is it?”

  “I’m going to go home and review this recorder to see if there are any clues as to who this child is, if he is a child.”

  “What do you mean if? I saw him. It was a boy.”

  Hannah shook her head and said, “Some very intelligent entities like putting on faces that are useful to them. If there were children in this house, it would make sense that he would appear to them as a child. Or if there is a mother missing her child…”

  My heart sank. “Oh, I see.” I rubbed my lip with my finger. “But you said that it was definitely a human.”

  “Yes, but it may not be a boy. It could be a man or a woman. Who knows?”

  “I have to know, Hannah. Why did you stop me from going into the attic?”

  “I’m not sure. It just felt like the wrong time to go in. I’m sorry, Jerica. I don’t mean to sound so mysterious, and I wish there were more I could tell you. It’s just not how things work. Summerleigh is a very active place, and although most of the Belles appear to be at rest, there are other spirits here. They need to be dealt with too. I’d like to come back and bring a few friends with me. People with similar gifts who know more than I do.”

  I sighed and tried to fight the frustration that threatened to overwhelm me. “My crew is coming back Monday, so tomorrow would be okay.”

  “Tomorrow it is, then. I’ll call you with the details as soon as I hear from my friends. In the meantime, Jerica, go for a walk. Spend some time outdoors. That’s where you’ll find your strength. And stay out of Summerleigh. I don’t care how many lights you see. Don’t go in there by yourself.” Hannah paused on the pathway before getting into her car.

  I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling very alone.

  “You haven’t asked me about her.”

  “I know she’s here. That’s enough for now.” The truth was I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Marisol. And for some reason, I believed that if I did truly connect with her, I’d never see her again. Ever.

  Hannah closed the door and rolled the window down. “When you’re ready, just ask.” Then she drove away.

  I brushed a tear from my eye and decided not to wait for that walk. As my father used to say, “There’s no time like the present.” I stuffed my cold hands in my pockets and kicked a rock in my path. With a glance at the looming mansion behind me, I turned away from the house and tried to ignore the feeling of eyes watching me.

  I didn’t shake the feeling until I reached the river.

  Chapter Six—Harper

  I pleaded with Aunt Dot to let us stay the night at her house, but I didn’t quite come out and explain why. What would I say? Mr. Daughdrill makes Momma cry and wants me to call him Grandfather now. Like Jeopardy used to. As always, my sunny aunt didn’t want to hear anything negative about her sister, but then again, Aunt Dot was a glass-is-half-full kind of gal. Even though we couldn’t stay the night, she did take us shopping; I didn’t get the exact outfit that I saw in the magazine, but Aunt Dot bought me three scarves and two new skirts. Addison and Loxley got new dresses and shoes. With a trunk full of packages, we headed down Highway 98 back home to Desire.

  The closer we got to Hurlette Drive, the more Addison rubbed her stomach and the whinier Loxley became. Couldn’t Aunt Dot see how upset we were?

  “Let’s sing a driving song,” she said to me with a big smile in the rearview mirror. I wanted to smile back but didn’t have the energy to summon one. “The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round.” Nobody joined in. Aunt Dot’s smile disappeared, and for the first time, I understood that my aunt was nervous too. She didn’t want to leave us at Summerleigh any more than we wanted to go.

  With a sigh, she eased into the slow lane and said, “Girls, you know I would take you all home with me if I could. But I can’t. What about your Momma? She’s a handful at times, but she has a good heart. I know she’s moody and unreasonable, Harper, but you have to remember she’s lost a husband. And with Jeopardy being gone, Ann is a broken soul, and we’ve all got to be patient with her.”

  I didn’t bother answering her; she’d made up her mind not to see the bad things. Not to know that we were hungry and hurting. She didn’t want to see how completely abandoned we all felt. It was easier that way, I guessed. Still, despite her naivety—I never believed I’d ever use one of my vocabulary words in a sentence—I didn’t hate her. One could only love sweet Aunt Dot. I gazed out the window at the trees as we rushed past them. The shadows were gathering, and it would be time for supper soon. I wondered what I’d find in the refrigerator, if anything. There were some jars of tomatoes in the pantry. Maybe I could whip up some tomato gravy and biscuits. We had flour; I knew we had flour.

  “Harper, are you listening, dear?”

  “Yes, Aunt Dot,” I lied as she talked about how things were going to get better, how things would turn around for us Belle girls. She wasn’t fooling anyone in the car. Except maybe Loxley, who joined her in singing “When We All Get to Heaven.”

  “How about I pick you girls up for church on Sunday, if your Momma is still too ill to go? You haven’t been in almost a month of Sundays.” She chuckled as if she’d made the biggest joke ever. I didn’t have the energy now to appease her determined sense of humor. I suddenly remembered that I wasn’t wearing my hose. I’d stuffed them in my purse at school and forgot to put them back on. I hoped Momma didn’t notice. It would be bad if she did.

  “That would be fine, Aunt Dot.” Addison glanced back at me as if she were expecting me to say something too. I couldn’t. I was too busy counting. The car turned down the drive. I counted the seconds from the turn. It was twenty seconds from that turn until the first glimpse of Summerleigh. As we got closer, I felt sicker. Despite the presents and the renewed friendship with Arnette Loper, I wasn’t any happier than I had been when I left home this morning. Funny how I’d almost become accustomed to the gloom that had fallen on Summerleigh, how differently I felt about the place now that Daddy would never return to bring her back to life. And I missed Jeopardy with all my heart.

  Momma wasn’t alone at the house. Thankfully, Mr. Daughdrill’s car wasn’t there, but a rusty red truck sat in the driveway. Aunt Dot’s car crept to a stop, and she turned off the radio. She slid the gearshift into park and stared at the vehicle and then at the brightly lit parlor. Wait a minute. I recognize that truck. It belonged to Dewey Landry, Aunt Dot’s sometime sweetheart! The curtains were open, and I could see Momma and the dark-haired man sitting on the couch together. Momma’s legs were curled up under her dress, and she was smoking and laughing like everything was hunky-dory.

  “Who is that? I can’t see his face,” Addison said to no one in particular.

  I knew, and apparently
so did Aunt Dot. She didn’t take her eyes off the window, and all four of us watched as Momma whispered in Dewey’s ear and he slapped his knee at her joke. I was completely shocked. Jeopardy had always claimed that Momma had “friends” coming to the house at late hours, but I’d never seen one myself. It wasn’t that late now, but it was Dewey Landry. What was she thinking? With his slicked-back brown hair, plain white t-shirt and blue jeans, Dewey was practically naked in our parlor. I didn’t know which I found more troubling, Momma entertaining Dewey like she was a teenage girl and he her high school crush or my aunt’s teary-eyed expression.

  Aunt Dot opened the car door. “You girls stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  “Yes, Aunt Dot,” we said in unison. Count Basie blared from the radio in the parlor, and Momma’s laughter escalated like it always did after she’d had a few drinks. I knew this song, “Take Me Back, Baby.” We weren’t allowed to listen to it at home, but the kids at school loved it. Tony Harvester liked playing Basie as loud as he could on his car radio. For the hundredth time today, I thought of Jeopardy. What would she think about seeing Momma in the house with a man who wasn’t Daddy? I told you so, Harper. Momma ain’t nothing but a w-h-o-r-e. Wait until I tell Daddy.

  “Harper? I’m afraid,” Loxley whined as she poked her head over the back seat for a better view.

  “That’s Dewey Landry,” Addison declared finally. “What’s he doing here?”

  “Maybe he’s here to fix the refrigerator. He is a repairman,” I lied to my little sister too easily. Addison sneezed again in the front seat. I watched in horror as Aunt Dot cleared the distance between the car and the house and walked right into the parlor. Clearly, she was yelling at Momma and Dewey, but I couldn’t hear her over the radio. Like a cornered wildcat, Momma sprang to her feet and threw her glass on the floor. I’d have to clean that up, and the carpet. And then Dewey was up, his hands in front of him as if he believed he’d be able to control the situation. What a fool he was to think he’d be able to calm those two. Next thing I knew, Aunt Dot and Momma were tussling. I couldn’t tell who threw the first punch because Dewey blocked my vision. He was still trying to break them up.