by Stuart
“What sort of something?” Thelma did not pull away, sensing that Kit needed tactile affirmation. “I’m hearing weird noises.” “You live in an old house. It’s probably the walls settling.” Kit had moved out of her parents’ home when she was 18 to go to college. She earned a degree in accounting and moved back to her hometown to find a job. Her mother wanted her to move back home, but Kit liked her new-found independence. She rented a house in the town, close to her office. The house was old, but had a lot of charm. Kit let her mother go, stepping back to look her in the eye. “No, Mom. It’s not that. I thought it was kids pulling a prank, but there was nobody there. I know you won’t believe me.” She looked down with a sigh. “Tell me, Kit. What is it?” “I heard Dane.” Thelma pursed her lips, pausing to consider how to proceed. “You know that’s not possible.” Her voice dropped to a gentle tone. “It must have been the wind.” “It wasn’t the wind. It was a voice. It called me Kit-Kat.” “What makes you think it was Dane?” “He is the only one who ever called me that. Nobody else knew that nickname. It was something special just between him and me.” “Kit, I know October is always your stressful month. You’re stressed out. You’ve just finished all the quarterly taxes for Mr. Alban’s market and Lulu’s hair salon, haven’t you?” “Yes, and the feed store, too.” “You are overworking yourself. You should make an appointment to see Dr. Sherman and get some meds.” “I don’t want to see a doctor, Mom. I’m not a kook!” Kit turned her back to her mother. She knew confiding in her was a bad idea. “I don’t want meds that will turn me into a zombie!” Thelma stepped closer to her daughter, wrapping her arms around her again from behind. “Then just go talk to her. Get it off your chest.” “I am trying to do that now.” Kit’s sarcasm came out more biting than she intended. “I’m sorry,” Thelma whispered. “What can I do to help you?”
“For once, just one single, solitary time in my life, believe me.” Tears broke loose from their dam, trailing down her cheeks. “I heard Dane. I know it was him.” “Honey, Dane is gone. Maybe you heard his ghost?” Thelma tried to offer an alternative to assuage her daughter’s ailing psyche. “Do you believe in ghosts?” “I think there are too many reports of ghosts not to. I think it may be possible for some people to get sidetracked on their way to the hereafter.” “If I am hearing his ghost, he is not resting in peace.” “Sweetheart, whoever took Dane did a terrible, monstrous thing. It is not something that you or I will ever be able to understand because we are good people. We would never do something like that. We cannot justify what happened to Dane, but we must accept that it did happen. When his spirit reconciles this, then he too will move on.” Kit cried harder. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Mom.” “Fate has a way of changing things from how we think they are supposed to be to how they really are.” “I can’t stop thinking about him. Every day, he’s in my thoughts. I can’t let him go. Maybe I really did love him.” “Maybe you did. Part of me says that you were too young to know romantic love, but I had a crush on a boy when I was 13. I was certain at the time that I was in love. Who’s to say that I wasn’t?” “I just want to be normal. I don’t want to be the crazy lady anymore.” “You heap that stigma on yourself, Kit. You isolate yourself from people if they say one little word about you. The only person who can get you past this, Kit, is you. Maybe you can’t do it completely alone. Maybe you need some help, but the big steps are yours to take. Nobody can wave a magic wand and make things all better. It is up to you to make the life you want to live.” “I’ll think about it.” “OK. Do you want to stay for supper?” “No. I just want to be alone to think.” Kit gave her mother another perfunctory hug, then left. Her mother hadn’t told her anything she didn’t already know, but somehow she did feel a little better for having told someone and shed a few more tears over it.
Chapter Three Kit fell asleep later than usual. Her mind had been going in a million directions, keeping her awake far past bedtime. She slipped into a restless dream. Kit stood at the gate of the Coulbourne cemetery. “You broke it!” Kit’s jaw dropped in horror. “Someone is going to know we messed with it now!” “glyph817obody comes back here Kit. Look at the place. The weeds are all grown up here. This place is deserted. We’ll be safe.” “Safe is the last thing I feel right now.” Dane stopped and hugged her. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.” His words echoed as the dream swirled with long-held events dredged up from the recesses of her brain. Her grip on Dane’s hand failed. She watched in panic as he was forcefully dragged away from her by an invisible kidnapper. “DANE!!!” Kit woke up screaming. She shuddered violently, her body in a cold sweat. She had not suffered a dream that vivid in years. The momentary haziness of her brain was clearing and she noticed something hovering at the end her bed. She screamed again. Her hand shot out to the nightstand, fumbling for the lamp. She clicked on the switch and blinked as it bathed the room in soft light. There was nobody there. Kit’s heart pounded hard, as if it were going to burst out of her chest. She gasped for breath. “It was only a dream. It was only a dream.” Maybe if she repeated it enough, she might actually start to believe it. It took her over an hour to get back to sleep. In the morning she got up and decided not to go in to work. She was drained both physically and emotionally from the previous night. She felt guilty, but it was unlikely her clients were going to be busting down her door to get to her today. She’d drop by and put a sign on the door later just in case anybody came by.
She thought about going back to bed, but knew that despite her fatigue, sleep would not come easily to her. Instead, another thought wiggled its way into her brain. The talk with her mother yesterday had been somewhat cathartic. Perhaps she had to make more amends to be able to move on and purge the nightmare from her life for good. Around mid-morning she left the house. Driving was by rote. Her mind was reeling again, unsure of what she was going to say when she arrived. This was a day she had been dreading for nearly ten years, but now it was time to face it. She pulled up in front of the Grissinger home. Her legs felt weak as she moved along the sidewalk toward the door. Before she knew it, she rang the bell. It was too late to back out now. A few moments later Mrs. Grissinger opened the door. The woman gaped in surprise. “Kit?” “I am sorry I didn’t call,” Kit blurted out. “If I had I would have chickened out before I dialed.” The young woman obviously had a lot on her mind. “Come on in,” Dane’s mother invited. “Thank you.” Kit followed her inside. She looked around. The furniture was all different from the last time she’d been in here. That was when she was still going steady with Dane. They went into the dining room. “Would you like some iced tea?” “Yes, please,” Kit nodded. Dane’s mother poured two glasses full and sat across the table from Kit. “I’ve thought a lot about this day,” the elder woman started. “So have I.” Kit’s voice wavered. She took a big drink of the iced tea to wet her throat. “I’m sorry. I know I should have come sooner, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t.” “I knew you would when the time was right. Well, you’re here now.” “I’m sorry,” Kit whispered. “I don’t know what else to say.” Her carefully rehearsed spiel, all of it, escaped her. “I know. Just tell me, what happened? What really happened?” Kit wiped at her eyes with her sleeve until Sheila Grissinger offered her a napkin. “Thanks.” Her voice was a bare whisper now. “I told everybody exactly what happened. I wasn’t lying. I never, ever lied about that night. Nobody has ever believed me, but I know I told the truth. I tried to hold on. I tried.” She covered her eyes with the napkin, blotting away more of the stinging liquid.
“I am sure you—” Sheila’s words cut off as the door opened and her husband entered. “Look who came to visit, Frank.” Mr. Grissinger gave Kit a hard, scrutinizing look. Kit shrank in the chair under the weight of his stare. She wanted desperately to look up at him, silently seeking his forgiveness, but could not. Kit closed her eyes in anguish as the man walked past. The loud bang of the screen door slamming spoke louder than any words he might have said. “I’m sorry.” Sheila tentatively r
eached for Kit’s hand, not taking it yet. “No. It is my fault. I should not have come.” “Kit, you needed to do this. If I said I didn’t need it, too, I’d be a liar. Frank has not dealt with it. It has been almost ten years, but he refuses to talk or to see anybody about it. He lets his anger and grief fester inside of him. I have tried everything I can think to do for him. I try to be supportive, but he needs to move on. I will always love Dane. He was our only child. I’ve come to terms with the fact that he is gone. Frank needs to do that, too.” Her eyes glistened as the moisture rose. “I have no right to ask this of you.” Kit clutched the woman’s offered hand. “I shouldn’t, but here goes. Do you think you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me?” “Kit, I never did hate you. I spent many sleepless nights worrying about you. I know you would have done all in your power to save Dane. If you seek forgiveness then you have mine. I think that the one who really needs to seek that is the person who took Dane from us.” Kit’s choking sob wracked her body. Somehow the forgiveness did not prove to be the salve needed to fully mend her fractured soul, but it was a start. “Giving up hope was the hardest thing I ever did.” Sheila nodded in agreement, bawling too. The two women hugged tightly to each other, pooling their grief in one concerted outpouring of emotion. When they were able to regain composure, they each dried their eyes and blew their noses on napkins. “I need to tell you something else. There is another reason I came here today,” Kit began again. “What?”
“I’ve been hearing things at night, voices. The first night I looked and nobody was there. I’m not crazy.” She paused, speaking that phrase with stoic emphasis. “Last night I thought I saw someone at the foot of my bed, but when I turned on the light, nobody was there. The voice calls me a nickname.” She paused, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. “The only person who ever called me that was Dane. I think I might have been visited by his ghost.” “Oh, Kit.” Sheila grimaced as if unsure how to take that news. “Are you sure?” “I never told anybody what Dane called me when we were alone, not even my shrink.” “Maybe it is the stress. This year is worse because it is a milestone anniversary of that dreadful date.” “My mom said the same thing. Maybe it is, but I really think it is him. I’ll see if he comes again.” “Alright, Kit. If he does, tell him that his dad and I love him and miss him very much. Tell him that we hope his soul can move on and rest in peace.” “I will.” Kit stood up, giving the woman a hug. “Thank you for listening to me.” “You were never unwelcome here, Kit. You never will be, either.” Kit nodded and turned to leave. Once she was out the door, she noticed Mr. Grissinger’s car was no longer in the driveway.
Chapter Four “Kit-Kat. Kit-Kat.” Kit roused slowly from her slumber at the sound. The voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, but somehow it had permeated the veil of sleep that she’d fallen under. She saw someone at the end of her bed and her mind jolted her awake. She reached for the lamp and turned it on. She blinked several times in disbelief. An apparition hovered at the end of her bed, semi-corporeal. She could see through it, yet it was still there as if half faded between this world and the next. She gave a long, hard look at the specter. Physically it looked much like Dane, only older. He would’ve turned out so handsome, she thought. What a shame. “Dane? Is that you?” The question hedged on her lips for a moment before she finally asked it. The apparition nodded affirmatively. “What happened to you?” She inched forward in the bed with earnest anticipation. A pained look crossed his face and he disappeared again. “No! Don’t go!” Kit stared at the empty wall for more moments than she cared to count. She slammed her fist against the quilts in frustration. “Don’t leave me again!” She waited up for hours, hoping he would return. Now that she knew it was Dane, she no longer feared the specter. Dane wouldn’t hurt her, not even from beyond the grave, would he? Her wait proved fruitless. Dane did not return before drowsiness set in and she curled up beneath the quilts, giving over to fatigue. Kit was snoring lightly when the apparition returned. He stood over her bed, watching her for more minutes than he probably should have. He dared to touch her, running his hand along her exposed upper arm. Kit shuddered at the chill, but did not wake up. She unconsciously pulled the blanket up higher. The spirit brushed her hair back out of her face and stared at the sleeping beauty again. “Sweet dreams, Kit-Kat,” Dane mouthed almost soundlessly, then faded once again.
The next day, Kit left work early. She had finished up what she needed to and decided to take the rest of the day off. Dane’s re-emergence from oblivion sent her curiosity into overdrive. She had to find out more about what happened to him. Kit drove down a familiar road. She remembered every twist and turn despite not having taken this path in many years. Her stomach flip-flopped as she saw her ancient nemesis, the Coulbourne Manor, at the end of the road. Her heart pounded with a mix of fear and anticipation. The manor looked even more dilapidated than it had ten years ago, if that was possible. The creepiness had not waned over the past decade. The house inspired dread in the entire town. Kit could scarcely believe Dane had talked her into helping him perform a séance there. She parked out front and walked hesitantly around the side, retracing the steps she and Dane had taken together ten years prior. She tried to imagine the house and yard in its glory, replete with picturesque flowers, verdant bushes and trees. Now, there were no signs that such life ever existed on the premises. The gate Dane broke on that fateful Halloween night remained unmended. Kit pulled it gently, cringing at the pitiful creak the broken hinge emitted. Her resolve quailed as she trod further into the graveyard. Pausing for a deep breath to steel her nerves, she stared at the prodigious stone marker that symbolized the dread she had carried nearly half her life. “I can do this.” She bolstered herself with whispers and resumed her course toward the grave. Now, in the daylight, she saw whose grave they had spoken over. Silas Coulbourne. Kit gasped. She and Dane had made a terrible mistake. Well, besides the obvious mistake of coming to a creepy graveyard on Halloween to hold a séance, they had chosen the wrong grave at which to hold it. She now realized they had performed the ceremony at the grave of the Coulbourne patriarch himself – the man who murdered his own family. “Silas Coulbourne,” she read the name aloud off the marker. “What did you do with Dane? Why did you take him?” An eerie wind swept the graveyard. The trees outside the fence remained still. Kit’s apprehension rose, but she kept her feet in the same place. Just as it had the night she and Dane were there, the graveyard came alive with unnatural activity. Leaves swirled in spiral patterns around her. Twigs beat against her body in a symmetric cadence.
Kit heard a groaning sound. She wasn’t sure if it was the wind or if it was something else, but she decided it was not worth the risk to find out. She turned and bolted out of the graveyard, leaving the gate hanging open behind her. She didn’t even stop long enough to close it. The maelstrom ceased as she jumped into her car and tore away from the manor like a bat out of Hell. There was no doubt in her mind that the ghost of Silas Coulbourne was behind Dane’s disappearance. She’d be damned if she was going to let him get away with it any longer, either.
Chapter Five “There must be information on Silas Coulbourne somewhere.” Kit’s thoughts came aloud as she drove to the library once again. She went inside and asked the clerk to help her find anything they had on the Coulbournes and Coulbourne Manor. Together, they searched and Kit ended up with a stack of microfiche, plus a few books. Keeping her mission in mind, she chose a microfiche machine and slid the first film in. Hours passed as Kit diligently poured over every scrap of information she and the clerk had turned up. She had a notebook with her, filling page after page with notes she wanted to save for later. Some of the information was startling. Some of it confirmed what the townspeople said all along. Silas Coulbourne had been arrested for the murder of his wife and son. He was taken to the county seat to stand trial. The trial was over very quickly, given the gravity of the crime. Silas was convicted and hanged for his crime. His body was buried in the Coulbourne cemetery. What startled Kit
was the mention of a surviving Coulbourne daughter. One article stated that the girl was placed in the care of relatives, but there was no further information beyond that. None of the stories Kit ever heard about Silas Coulbourne mentioned a daughter. This was a new twist in the sordid story. Once Kit had exhausted every lead at the library, she took her notebook and went to the property assessor’s office. She looked at the plot book for the property comprising the Coulbourne estate. Part of the page was torn. “Damn,” she cursed under her breath when she realized the missing section was the name of the owner. “Excuse me,” she cleared her throat as she laid the plot book down on the main counter. “Part of this page is torn away. Do you have another copy with this information?” The clerk looked it over and scratched her head. “I think these are our only hard copies. They are supposed to be bringing us into the 21st Century and get this all computerized, but so far the county hasn’t spared the funds for that. This is all we have. Sorry.” “Thanks anyway.” Kit left the office feeling very uneasy. It wasn’t likely that a mistake such as that simply went overlooked. Maybe it did in this case since the Coulbourne manor had been uninhabited for so long.
