by Greyspid
Lauren gave a little subdued nod of her head. Her eyes seemed dreamy, as if she remembered, but she did not share the drama of the moment.
‘Stella picked thirteen of us,’ said Peter, ’and it was based on our powers — you know, the old psychic gifts — to read minds, to see spirits, and to move matter.’
‘And I suppose you can do all that,’ scoffed Fielding. ‘And that’s why I always beat you at poker.’
Peter shook his head. ‘There wasn’t anyone who could do it like Stella. Except Cortland, perhaps, but even he was weaker than Stella. And then there was Big Pierce, he had the touch, he really did, but he was young and entirely under Stella’s domination. The rest of us were merely the best she could muster. That’s why she had to have Lauren. Lauren had a strong touch of it, and Stella didn’t want to waste even that much of a chance. And we were all gathered together in that house, and the purpose was to open the doorway. And when we formed our circle and we began to envision the purpose, he would appear, and he was to come through and be there with us. And he wouldn’t be a ghost anymore. He’d be entering into this very world.’
A little hush fell over them. Beatrice stared at Peter as if he himself were a ghost. Fielding too studied Peter with seeming incredulity and maybe even a sneer.
Randall’s face was impassive, behind its massive wrinkles.
‘Rowan doesn’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Lily.
‘No, and I think we should stop all this,’ said Anne Marie.
‘She knows,’ said Randall looking directly at Rowan.
Rowan looked at Peter. ‘What do you mean that he would come into this very world?’ she asked.
‘He wouldn’t be a spirit any longer, that’s what I mean. Not just to appear but to remain, to be… physical.’
Randall was studying Rowan, as if there was something he couldn’t quite determine.
Fielding gave a dry little laugh, a superior laugh. ‘Stella must have made up that part. That wasn’t what my father told me. Saved, that’s what he said. All those who were part of the pact would be saved. I remember hearing him tell my mother.’
‘What else did your father tell you?’ Rowan asked.
‘Oh, you don’t believe all this!’ asked Beatrice. ‘Good Lord, Rowan.’
‘Don’t take it seriously, Rowan!’ said Anne Marie.
‘Stella was a sad case, my dear,’ said Lily.
Fielding shook his head. ‘Saved, that’s what my father said. They’d all be saved when the doorway was opened. And it was a riddle, and Mary Beth didn’t know the real meaning any more than anyone else. Carlotta swore she’d figured it out, but that wasn’t true. She only wanted to torment Stella. I don’t even think Julien knew.’
‘Do you know the words of the riddle?’ Michael asked.
Fielding turned to the left and glanced down at him. And suddenly they all appeared to notice Michael, and to focus upon him. Rowan slipped her hand closer to his neck, clasping it affectionately and drawing her legs closer to him, as if embracing him and declaring him part of her.
‘Yes, what were the words of the riddle?’ Rowan asked.
Randall looked at Peter, and they both looked at Fielding.
Again Fielding shook his head. ‘I never knew. I never heard there were any special words. It was just that when there were thirteen witches, the doorway would be opened at last. And the night that Julien died, my father said, "They’ll never get the thirteen now, not without Julien."’
‘And who told them the riddle?’ asked Rowan. ‘Was it the man?’
They were all staring at her again. Even Anne Marie appeared apprehensive and Beatrice at a loss, as if someone had made a fearful breach of etiquette. Lauren was gazing at her in the strangest way.
‘She doesn’t even know what this is all about,’ declared Beatrice.
‘I think we should forget it,’ said Felice.
‘Why? Why should we forget it?’ asked Fielding. ‘You don’t think the man will come to her as he came to all the others? What’s changed?’
‘You’re scaring her!’ declared Cecilia. ‘And frankly you’re scaring me.’
‘Was it the man who gave them the riddle?’ Rowan asked again.
No one spoke.
What could she say to make them start talking again, to make them yield up what they possessed. ‘Carlotta told me about the man,’ Rowan said. ‘I’m not afraid of him.’
How still the garden seemed. Every single one of them was gathered into the circle except for Ryan, who had taken Gifford away. Even Pierce had returned and stood just behind Peter. It was almost twilight. And the servants had vanished, as if they knew they were not wanted.
Anne Marie picked up a bottle from the nearby table, and with a loud gurgling noise filled her glass. Someone else reached for a bottle. And then another. But the eyes of all remained fixed upon Rowan.
‘Do you all want me to be afraid?’ Rowan asked.
‘No, of course not,’ said Lauren.
‘Indeed not!’ said Cecilia. ‘I think this sort of talk could ruin everything.’
‘… in a big shadowy old house like that.’
‘… nonsense if you ask me.’
Randall shook his head; Peter murmured no, but Fielding merely looked at her.
Again the silence came, blanketing the group, as if it were snow. A rustling darkness seemed to be gathering under the small trees. A light had gone on across the lawn, behind the small panes of the French windows.
‘Have any of you ever seen the man?’ Rowan asked.
Peter’s face was solemn and unreadable. He did not seem to notice when Lauren poured the bourbon in his glass.
‘God, I wish I could see him,’ said Pierce, ’just once!’
‘So do I!’ said Beatrice. ‘I wouldn’t think of trying to get rid of him. I’d talk to him…"
‘Oh shut up, Bea!’ said Peter suddenly. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying. You never do!’
‘And you do, I suppose,’ said Lily sharply, obviously protective of Bea. ‘Come here, Bea, sit down with the women. If it’s going to be war, be on the right side.’
Beatrice sat down on the grass beside Lily’s chair. ‘You old idiot, I hate you,’ she said to Peter. ‘I’d like to see what you’d do if you ever saw the man.’
He dismissed her with a raised eyebrow, and took another sip of his drink.
Fielding sneered, muttering something under his breath.
‘I’ve gone up there to First Street,’ said Pierce, ’and hung around that iron fence for hours on end trying to see him. If only I’d ever caught one glimpse.’
‘Oh, for the love of heaven!’ declared Anne Marie. ‘As if you didn’t have anything better to do.’
‘Don’t let your mother hear that,’ Isaac murmured.
‘You all believe in him,’ Rowan said. ‘Surely some of you have seen him.’
‘What would make you think that!’ Felice laughed.
‘My father says it’s a fantasy, an old tale,’ said Pierce.
‘Pierce, the best thing you could do,’ said Lily, ’is stop taking every word that falls from your father’s lips as if it were gospel because it is not.’
‘Have you seen him, Aunt Lily?’ Pierce asked.
‘Indeed, I have, Pierce,’ Lily said in a low voice. ‘Indeed I have.’
The others registered undisguised surprise, except for the three elder men, who exchanged glances. Fielding’s left hand fluttered, as if he wanted to gesture, speak, but he didn’t.
‘He’s real,’ said Peter gravely. ‘He’s as real as lightning; as real as wind is real.’ He turned and glared at young Pierce and then back at Rowan, as if demanding their undivided attention and belief in him. Then his eyes settled on Michael. ‘I’ve seen him. I saw him that night when Stella brought us together. I’ve seen him since. Lily’s seen him. So has Lauren. You, too, Felice, I know you have. And ask Carmen. Why don’t you speak up, Felice? And you, Fielding. You saw him the night Mary Beth died
at First Street. You know you did. Who here hasn’t seen him? Only the younger ones.’ He looked at Rowan. ‘Ask, they’ll all tell you.’
A loud murmuring ran through the outer edges of the gathering because many of the younger ones - Polly and Clancy and Tim and others Rowan did not know - hadn’t seen the ghost, and didn’t know whether to believe what they were hearing. Little Mona with the ribbon in her hair suddenly pushed to the front of the circle, with the taller Jennifer right behind her.
‘Tell me what you saw,’ said Rowan, looking directly at Peter. ‘You’re not saying that he came through the door the night that Stella gathered you together.’
Peter took his time. He looked around him, eyes lingering on Margaret Ann, and then for a moment on Michael, and then on Rowan. He lifted his drink. He drained the glass, and then spoke:
‘He was there - a blazing shimmering presence, and for those few moments, I could have sworn he was as solid as any man of flesh and blood I’ve ever seen. I saw him materialize. I felt the heat when he did it. And I heard his steps. Yes, I heard his feet strike the floor of that front hallway as he walked towards us. He stood there, just as real as you or me, and he looked at each and every one of us.’ Again, he lifted his glass, took a swallow and lowered it, his eyes running over the little assembly. He sighed. ‘And then he vanished, just as he always had. The heat again. The smell of smoke, and the breeze rushing through the house, tearing the very curtains off the windows. But he was gone. He couldn’t hold it. And we weren’t strong enough to help him hold it. Thirteen of us, yes, the thirteen witches, as Stella called us. And Lauren four years old! Little Lauren. But we weren’t of the ilk of Julien or Mary Beth, or old Grandmere Marguerite at Riverbend. And we couldn’t do it. And Carlotta, Carlotta who was stronger than Stella - and you mark my words, it was true - Carlotta wouldn’t help. She lay on her bed upstairs, staring at the ceiling, and she was saying her rosary aloud, and after every Hail Mary, she said, "Send him back to hell, send him back to hell!" - and then went on to the next Hail Mary.’
He pursed his lips and scowled down into the empty glass, shaking it soundlessly so that the ice cubes revolved. Then again, his eyes ran over the circle, taking in everyone, even little red-haired Mona.
‘For the record, Peter Mayfair saw him,’ Peter declared, pulling himself up, eyebrow raised again. ‘Lauren and Lily can speak for themselves. So can Randall. But for the record, I saw him, and that you may tell to your grandchildren.’
A pause again. The darkness was growing dense; and from far away came the grinding cry of the cicadas. No breeze touched the yard. The house was now full of yellow light, in all its many small neat windows.
‘Yes,’ said Lily with a sigh. ‘You might as well know it, my dear.’ Her eyes fixed on Rowan as she smiled. ‘He is there. And we’ve all seen him many a time since, though not perhaps the way we saw him that night, or for so long, or so clearly.’
‘You were there, too?’ Rowan asked.
‘I was,’ said Lily. ‘But it wasn’t only then, Rowan. We’ve seen him on that old screen porch with Deirdre.’ She looked up at Lauren. ‘We’ve seen him when we’ve passed the house. We’ve seen him sometimes when we didn’t want to.’
‘Don’t be frightened of him, Rowan,’ said Lauren contemptuously.
‘Oh, now you tell her that,’ declared Beatrice. ‘You superstitious monsters!’
‘Don’t let them drive you out of the house,’ said Magdalene quickly.
‘No, don’t let us do that,’ said Felice. ‘And you want my advice, forget the legends. Forget the old foolishness about the thirteen witches and the doorway. And forget about him! He’s just a ghost, and nothing more, and you may think that sounds strange, but truly it isn’t.’
‘He can’t do anything to you,’ said Lauren, with a sneer.
‘No, he can’t,’ said Felice. ‘He’s like the breeze.’
‘He’s a ghost,’ said Lily. ‘That’s all he is and all he’ll ever be.’
‘And who knows?’ asked Cecilia. ‘Maybe he’s no longer even there.’
They all stared at her.
‘Well, nobody’s seen him since Deirdre died.’
A door slammed. There was a tinkling sound, of glass falling, and a commotion on the edge of the circle. People shifted, stepped aside. Gifford pushed her way to the center, her face wet and stained, her hands shaking.
‘Can’t do anything! Can’t hurt anyone! Is that what you’re telling her! Can’t do anything! He killed Cortland, that’s what he did! After Cortland raped your mother! Did you know that, Rowan!’
‘Hush, Gifford!’ Fielding roared.
‘Cortland was your father,’ Gifford screamed. ‘The hell he can’t do anything! Drive him out, Rowan! Turn your strength on him and drive him out! Exorcise the house! Burn it down if you have to… Burn it down!’
A roar of protest came from all directions, and vague expressions of scorn or outrage. Ryan had appeared and was trying once more to restrain Gifford. She turned and slapped his face. Gasps came from all around. Pierce was obviously mortified and helpless.
Lily rose and left the group, and so did Felice, who almost fell in her haste. Anne Marie struggled to her feet, and helped Felice to get away. But the others stood firm, including Ryan, who simply wiped his face with his handkerchief, as if to regain his composure while Gifford stood with her fists clenched, lips trembling. Beatrice was clearly desperate to help but didn’t know what to do.
Rowan rose and went towards Gifford.
‘Gifford, listen to me,’ said Rowan. ‘Don’t be afraid. It’s the future we care about, not the past.’ She took Gifford by both arms, and reluctantly Gifford looked up into her face. ‘I will do what’s good,’ said Rowan, ’and what’s right, and what’s good and right for the family. Do you understand what I’m saying?’
Gifford broke into sobs, her head bent again as if her neck were too weak to hold it. Her hair fell down into her eyes. ‘Only evil people can be happy in that house,’ she said. ‘And they were evil — Cortland was evil!’ Both Pierce and Ryan had their arms around her. Ryan was becoming angry. But Rowan hadn’t let her go.
‘Too much to drink,’ said Cecilia. Someone had thrown on the yard lights.
Gifford appeared to collapse suddenly, but still Rowan held her.
‘No, listen to me, please, Gifford,’ Rowan said, but she was really speaking to the others. She saw Lily standing only a short distance away, and Felice beside her. She saw Beatrice’s eyes fixed on her. And Michael was standing, watching her, as he stood behind Fielding’s chair.
‘I’ve been listening to you all,’ said Rowan, ’and learning from you. But I have something to say. The way to survive this strange spirit and his machinations is to see him in a large perspective. Now, the family, and life itself, are part of that perspective. And he must never be allowed to shrink the family or shrink the possibilities of life. If he exists as you say he does, then he belongs in the shadows.’
Randall and Peter were watching her intently. So was Lauren. Aaron stood very near to Michael, and he too was listening. Only Fielding seemed cold, and sneering, and did not look at Rowan. Gifford was staring at her in a daze.
‘I think Mary Beth and Julien knew that,’ said Rowan. ‘I mean to follow their example. If something appears to me out of the shadows at First Street, no matter how mysterious it might be, it won’t eclipse the greater scheme, the greater light. Surely you follow my meaning.’
Gifford seemed almost spellbound. And very slowly Rowan realized how peculiar this moment had become. She realized how strange her words seemed; and how strange she must have appeared to all of them, making this unusual speech while she held this frail, hysterical woman by both arms.
Indeed they were all staring at her as if they too had been spellbound.
Gently she let Gifford go. Gifford stepped backwards, and into Ryan’s embrace, but her eyes remained large, empty, and fixed on Rowan.
‘I’m frightening you, aren’t I?’
asked Rowan.
‘No, no everything is all right now,’ said Ryan.
‘Yes, everything’s fine,’ said Pierce.
But Gifford was silent. They were all confused. When Rowan looked at Michael she saw the same dazed expression, and behind it the old dark turbulent distress.
Beatrice murmured some little apology for all that had happened; she stepped up and led Gifford away. Ryan went with them. And Pierce remained, motionless, struck dumb.
Lily looked around, apparently confused for a moment, and then called to Hercules to please find her coat.
Randall, Fielding, and Peter remained in the stillness. Others lingered in the shadows. The little girl with the ribbon stared from a distance, her round sweet young face like a flame in the dark. The taller child, Jenn, appeared to be crying.
Suddenly Peter clasped Rowan’s hand.
‘You’re wise in what you said. You’d waste your life if you got caught up in it.’
‘That’s correct,’ said Randall. ‘That’s what happened to Stella. Same thing with Carlotta. She wasted her life! Same thing.’ But he was anxious, and only too ready to withdraw. He turned and slipped off without a farewell.
‘Come on, young man, help me up,’ said Fielding to Michael. ‘The party’s over, and by the way, my congratulations on the marriage. Maybe I’ll live long enough to see the wedding. And please, don’t invite the ghost.’
Michael looked disoriented. He glanced at Rowan, and then down at the old man, and then very gently he helped the old man to his feet. Then he looked at Rowan again. The confusion and dread were there as before.
Several of the young ones approached, to tell Rowan not to be discouraged by all this Mayfair madness. Anne Marie begged her to go on with her plans. A light breeze came at last with just a touch of coolness to it.
‘Everybody will be heartbroken if you don’t move into the house,’ said Margaret Ann.
‘You’re not giving it up?’ demanded Clancy.
‘Of course not,’ said Rowan with a smile. ‘What an absurd idea.’
