The Ghosts of Summerleigh Collection

by M. L. Bullock

  “We have to stop them, Harper!” Addison was out of the car without waiting for an answer. Loxley began to cry beside me, and I held her, still too shocked to move. Seeing Addison running through the yard clutching her stomach stirred me—I couldn’t just sit here like a bump on a log and let her get hurt. That’s when I saw another car roll up behind me. I knew the shape of the headlights immediately. This was none other than Mr. Daughdrill in his Chevy Master DeLuxe.

  “Holy smokes,” I said as I tried to sink down in the car. I don’t know why I tried; it was impossible to hide from those lights, which shone like two white suns. Mr. Daughdrill wasted no time running to the porch and ordering Addison to stay outside. He stepped inside just in time to see Aunt Dot slap Dewey across the face as Momma collapsed on her red velvet sofa in a crying heap. In a few steps, Mr. Daughdrill crossed the room and unplugged the radio, then slung Dewey Landry out of the house. Both of his daughters stood up and faced him, screaming words we weren’t allowed to say, being Baptists and all. Then Mr. Daughdrill struck Momma across the face, and she hit the ground. He grabbed her by her blond hair, just like she’d done to me, and struck her again. I had never seen such violence. Aunt Dot crumpled back, obviously too frightened to intervene.

  Before I knew it, I was screaming, “Momma!” I ran to the house with Loxley in my arms. I don’t know how I managed to climb out of that back seat holding her, but I did it. She’d peed on me as she cried, but I couldn’t stop and change her clothing. Addison trailed behind me as we raced inside. Loxley was weeping loudly, and she ran to Aunt Dot as soon as she saw her.

  From some place unseen and unknown within me, anger exploded and I yelled at Mr. Daughdrill, “Don’t you ever hit her again!” I picked up the poker from the fireplace and held it in my hand. I was no small girl, and I had quite an arm on me. He might be six inches taller, but I would strike him as sure as I was standing here if he hit Momma again. “Get out of our house now! Get out of here, you mean old bastard!” I’d never used that word before, and it shocked everyone into silence. Except Aunt Dot.

  “Harper Louise,” she said in a steady, quiet voice, “Put the poker down. It’s all over now.”

  “Girl, don’t you ever threaten me again. I see now what a horrible mother you are, Ann. Here you are, rollicking like a harlot with a two-bit grease monkey, and now your children disrespect me. I will not tolerate this any longer. There will be order.” He grabbed Addison’s arm—for what intention, I did not know, but his words broke me. That was the last thing Mr. Daughdrill said to me because I struck him hard across the opposite arm. He let go of Addison, who scrambled to Aunt Dot. Every feeling I had, all the grief and sadness, exploded into uncontrollable anger, and I struck him not once or twice but at least a half-dozen times.

  And nobody moved to stop me.

  “That’s enough now, Harper,” Momma said in a whisper. She lifted her bruised face to me. I couldn’t discern her expression. Was it relief? Anger?

  My hands stung, and I could see that I’d bruised them. I dropped the poker. It landed on the carpet with a thud, and I backed away from the sight of Mr. Daughdrill bleeding on the parlor floor.

  “Look, he’s breathing,” Addison said as she craned her neck to see him.

  “Girls, get in the car. We’re leaving,” Aunt Dot whispered as she held Loxley tighter.

  Momma began to cry, but she didn’t argue about it. I don’t think she was crying because we were leaving. I felt sure she was crying because I almost killed her daddy. Or something. Or maybe she was crying because we saw her fooling around with Dewey. I couldn’t be sure. Whatever the reason, I couldn’t leave her alone. Not now.

  “I can’t go, Aunt Dot. I have to stay and take care of Momma,” I said in a wooden voice. I couldn’t believe my own ears. What was I saying? I’d been praying for weeks—no, months—to get away from Momma, to leave Summerleigh forever. Now here was my chance and I couldn’t do it.

  Aunt Dot’s mascara ran beneath her eyes, and her hat was crooked from the earlier melee. “No, you don’t have to stay. I’m sorry I didn’t listen before. Come with me, Harper Louise. I won’t let you go through this another day.”

  With all my heart, I wanted to leave with her. I wanted to burn Summerleigh to the ground, along with every sad memory I had of this place, but I couldn’t leave Momma. She’d have no one if I left. No one at all.

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Dot. I can’t go.” To my surprise, Addison took my hand. She didn’t speak, but I squeezed it back.

  “All right,” Aunt Dot said sadly. “Ann, I’m leaving with Loxley. I’ll make sure she gets to school.”

  Momma nodded and reached out her hand to me. Her beautiful face was the picture of sadness, as if all her hopes were now pinned on me. Aunt Dot and Loxley left, and I heard the car pull out of the driveway.

  The blood around Mr. Daughdrill pooled, but he was still breathing.

  I took Momma’s hand and helped her to her feet. She fell on my shoulder and cried like I was her best friend, but I knew better than that.

  I wasn’t her friend. I was her prisoner.

  Chapter Seven—Jerica

  John Jeffrey Belle had been right. The pond was nothing more than a glorified mud hole except for a few ducks that called it home. I walked farther, deciding that I would go down to Dog River and look at the water there. Jeopardy Belle used to love going down to Dog River. I remembered Troy Harvester’s description of her rising out of the water “like some kind of siren.” I wanted to see it for myself again. I’d been down there once before and had seen my daughter briefly. She’d been playing with Loxley Belle. In retrospect, I think Marisol wanted me to know that she was happy here at Summerleigh. She liked that I was here, but now I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t feel her like I used to. I didn’t see her, and I couldn’t understand why she was being so elusive.

  And then it dawned on me. Maybe the boy with the black eyes forced her to leave Summerleigh. Maybe he was keeping her away from me. Maybe he wanted to keep me all to himself. Yes, that could be it. Marisol was scared and hiding from him. All the more reason to get rid of him.

  “Marisol, honey,” I said with my eyes closed and my face turned up to the sun, “I’ll never let anything happen to you. Never again. I failed you once before, my baby, but I’ll never do it again. Trust Momma, please. Can you hear me?”

  Then as clear as a bell I heard a splash in the water. Not a fish jumping or a pebble plunking into the water but a splash as if someone had jumped in. I twisted around on the rock and looked over in the water just in time to see a spray of bubbles appear. I waited and waited, but nobody emerged from the murky water. I looked around and stood up on the rock to see if I could locate anyone near me. I searched for any evidence that someone was down here on this part of Dog River besides me but couldn’t see a soul. Scanning the banks again, I checked for clothing or a boat but saw no one. And then the water stopped bubbling, the ripples ceased to move, and it was as if it never happened.

  I know that just happened. I know someone dived in. I heard it with my own two ears. Oh, God! What if he was in trouble?

  Without taking off my shoes or emptying my pockets, I dived in. Fear and urgency overwhelmed me. I swam with all my might, and when I got to the spot that I believed I’d seen the splash, I dived down in a panic.

  Beneath the surface, the water wasn’t as murky as I expected, but it was much deeper than I had believed. Under the top layer of brown water, the bottom part of the river was clean and crystal-clear and fast moving. I swam about, looking for someone, anyone to rescue. I was running out of air, so I swam quickly back to the surface and sucked in a breath, then dived again and swam down a few feet. For one fleeting moment, I thought I saw a figure, but then it was gone. Someone was down here! My lungs burned, and I breached the surface again to catch my breath. I had every intention of diving back down until I saw a man standing on the shore.

  The sun was behind him, so I couldn’t see his face clearly. “Hey! Help! I th
ink someone is drowning,” I shouted. An icy-cold chill passed over me, and I slunk down in the water a bit. I peered hard at the man, but he didn’t seem to hear me.

  Oh no. I know who he is, but that can’t be possible! It was Mr. Daughdrill, Harper’s long-dead grandfather! I raised my hand to my eyes to shield them from the sun, but I still could not see his face. I had no desire to swim to shore and see the ghost face-to-face. What do I do? I can’t swim to the shore as long as he’s standing there. How is this possible? Treading water furiously now, I thought about my options. I could swim downstream and then find another way home. Or I could stay in the water until someone else showed up. Surely someone else would come.

  “Marisol!” I whispered. “Stay away.” The man didn’t move. The wind blew, but his hair and clothing did not. He wore the same loose gray suit that I’d seen him in before, in Harper’s memories. Yes, that was Daughdrill. Who else could it be?

  And that’s when I felt the tug on my foot. A strong tug. I screamed in surprise and tried to swim away. That was not a branch or a piece of debris—that was a hand grabbing me! I screamed, but the scream was choked out with water as I was plunged beneath the surface of the suddenly violent waves. Let me go! I tried to yell, but no one could hear me. I thought I would drown as the hand gripped my ankle tighter. The last thing I wanted to do was see who or what had me, but I had no choice other than to swim down. I had to get free! With my last bit of oxygen, I released a bit of air and dived down to face the bloated white face that met mine.

  This was the boy with the black eyes, the one from Summerleigh!

  He was here in the water, and he wanted to drown me. He wanted me to die. I kicked at him so hard with my other foot that I felt his slippery skin move beneath my foot. I gagged at the sight of pieces of his flesh floating away in the water. He let me go and disappeared as he fell down further into the river. I launched to the surface, breathing in air as quickly as possible. A scream erupted from my lips, and I swam to the other side of the river, screaming and crying all the way. I had to get away from the boy. I prayed as I swam. Looking over my shoulder once or twice, I realized that no one was there. Daughdrill was gone.

  I eased up on the muddy bank of Dog River and held my ankle in my hand. It was clearly bruised but not broken. I was a nurse after all; I knew what breaks looked like. I got up on my feet as quickly as possible—I had to get away from this hellish river.

  I thought I would have a peaceful day out here, spend some time in nature and get away from the ghosts of the house. Maybe see Marisol again. Unfortunately, the ghosts had come looking for me.

  Hannah was wrong. I was not protected, and the boy with the black eyes was not going away easily. And he had an evil friend. I left immediately and began walking along the opposite bank until I came to a bridge that would lead me back to the other side of the river. The road was lonely, and I suddenly realized this was the road where Jeopardy had gone missing. This was the road where Daughdrill had done his last Horrible Thing—he took Jeopardy’s life right here. I paused, feeling sick. I heard a car approaching but didn’t stick around to see who it was. I hurried through the woods back to the cottage.

  The sick feeling morphed into something else. I was angry. Angry that children had been hurt. Angry that Daughdrill thought he could harm me by sending that demented child after me.

  I understand now, Harper. I know what you want me to know. You were a fighter. You were never a quitter—you never gave up on Jeopardy or any of your family. Not even your Momma. I know this about you because you never gave up on me, either. And you knew that I’m like you. I am a fighter too, Harper.

  And this isn’t over yet.

  Chapter Eight—Harper

  For a long time, none of us said a word. After I helped Momma to her feet, she sat on the couch and stared at Mr. Daughdrill, who hadn’t moved an inch. It was Addison who spoke first. “I think you killed him, Harper. I think he’s dead for sure. Truly I do think it.”

  “No, he’s not. I can see him breathing, Addie.” I did see him breathing, didn’t I? Or was I imagining that? I felt sick all of a sudden and panicked. “I’m sorry, Momma. I didn’t mean to do it.”

  And then I heard him moaning and murmuring, “Ann, help me, girl. Ann…” His eyes were open, but he couldn’t move his mouth. Had I broken his jaw?

  Momma stiffened her back and sat up straight on the couch. She tucked her feet beneath her, posed as pretty as any picture, without making a move to help him. She stared down at her father, and we all watched him move his fingers. Yes, he was starting to move now. He might even be up and moving in a few minutes. She said, “Girls, you get cleaned up and get dressed for bed.”

  “Shouldn’t we call a doctor or someone?” Addison asked in a small, scared voice.

  Momma shook her head once and tilted it as if she were posing, just like one of her old photo shoots. All the tears and desperation I saw on her face had been replaced with something else. Something cold and calculating, something ladylike and calm. I think I would’ve rather had her tear my hair out than behave so calmly.

  “You just leave everything to me, Addison,” she said as she rose from the couch and smoothed her pencil skirt. Neither one of us girls moved. All we could do was stare at her. Had she lost her senses? We needed to call the police. I’d probably be arrested. “Do as Momma tells you now. Both of you.”

  In unison, we said, “Yes, Momma.” Addison took my hand and led me out of the parlor, into the Great Room and into the hallway that led to our rooms. “Stay with me tonight, Harper. I can’t sleep by myself.”

  “All right, Addie,” I said as I sat on her bed and stared off into the distance. My body shook, my hands hurt, and I could see bruises on my fingers. I couldn’t stop staring at them. These were proof that I had it too. I had the same rage Momma and her father had. Even Aunt Dot had it. I saw that tonight. Deep inside me, the Daughdrill rage had lain hidden all these years, but it was there. And now I would go to prison. People who kill people, people who beat people, they send them to prison. I’d probably die in prison.

  Addie was talking to me, but I couldn’t hear her. Then she put her hand under my chin and stared into my eyes. “Harper, can you hear me?”

  “Yes, I hear you. I’m so tired, Addison. I just want to sleep.”

  “You heard Momma; we have to get ready for bed.”

  “I just want to lie down,” I murmured, feeling so lightheaded I feared I might actually faint. My hands and head throbbed.

  I lay on her pillow and drew my legs up to my chest. Without another word, Addison removed my shoes, covered me with her worn but heavy quilt and crept in beside me. I stared at the wall for a few minutes, but it didn’t take long to fall asleep.

  “It’s all right, Harper Louise. I won’t leave you. It’s okay. Go to sleep now.” Addison sniffled as she scooted up to my back.

  I tried to say, “Thank you, Addie,” but I found that I couldn’t speak. I was too tired. I fell into a black, dreamless sleep.

  I woke up feeling cold and realized that the quilt had been pulled off me. I reached behind me, thinking that Addison had stolen it in her sleep, but it wasn’t there. The quilt was not on the bed. I sat up and looked for it. We must have kicked it off because it was lying on the floor at the foot of the bed.

  Get up, pie-face.

  I sat up in my bed straight as a board, like one of those old dolls whose back refused to bend because of age. “Jeopardy!”

  You coming or what?

  “Jeopardy Belle?” A smile stretched across my face because I knew that voice. Addison stirred beside me. She reached for me, but I was already on my feet. I heard Jeopardy’s light steps traveling down the hall toward the Great Room.

  “Harper? Where you going?”

  “Come on, Addison. It’s Jeopardy!”

  “Really?” Addison was by my side now, and I held her hand as we hurried down the hall following Jeopardy’s footsteps. This was a dream come true! Was I dreaming? I had dream
ed so many times of Jeopardy’s return. But I knew I was awake—I could feel the cold floor beneath my bare feet, and my lungs burned because the air all around me was cold. I glanced back and saw Addison’s pale face. Her teeth were chattering.

  I could hear Momma’s radio playing in the parlor. It wasn’t loud, not like earlier when she was entertaining Dewey Landry, but low and quiet. She was talking to someone, but who? Surely not Jeopardy. There was no love lost between those two. I paused to eavesdrop on her conversation. No, she was on the phone. I could tell by the tone of her voice. I wondered if I would see Mr. Daughdrill lying on the floor dead if I peeked into the parlor. There was no time to consider that. As we tiptoed through the near-empty Great Room to head up the stairs, I heard an odd sound. A thump. No, two thumps. Momma wasn’t on the phone after all!

  A man murmured in the other room. Was Dewey Landry back? Knowing that someone else might be in the house, I raced up the stairs with Addison in tow. We had to find Jeopardy and keep her out of sight. Way out of sight. I’d have to warm up Momma before I told her that Jeopardy had returned. Unlike Addison and Loxley and me, Momma had unpredictable moods. She might not be happy that Jeopardy had returned. But why? I’d never understand it.

  And after what happened tonight, perhaps it was me Jeopardy should be afraid of. I nearly killed someone. But he wasn’t dead, was he? Momma said he wasn’t. I was sure he was hurt pretty bad, though. I forced the memory out of my mind, and Addison moaned behind me as she stubbed a toe on a worn step.

  “Quiet,” I whispered to her as we hurried up the last of the steps. We were on the second floor now, and if I thought it was cold downstairs, it felt like the freezer of the soda shop up here.

  Addison hugged me and said, “Harper, I’m afraid. What are we doing up here?”