by J A Whiting
But what about Ezra?
Why are you trying to communicate with me? What’s changed now?
What do you want me to do?
10
Lin was doing spring clean-up by raking up the old leaves and lawn debris in the yard of the Snows’ three-story, white Colonial mansion and art gallery on the corner of Main Street. Crocuses and tulips bloomed in the flowerbed by the white picket fence in the front of the yard. Lin knelt and used her hand to pull out dried up leaves from in-between the spring flowers.
“Everything’s looking great.” Robert Snow came out of the gallery to speak with Lin. “Spring has finally sprung.” Robert, his wife, Lila, son, Roy, daughter-in-law, Suzanne, and young grandson, Chase, lived in the huge house together.
Lin stood to greet the man. “And not a moment too soon.”
“Are you almost done? How about a cup of tea before you head off to your next client?”
“I’d love that. Shall I come into the gallery once I finish up?”
“I’ll put the kettle on.” Robert hurried back inside.
The man was pouring hot water into two mugs when Lin came through the door. She kicked off her work boots so as not to track mud into the gallery. Robert handed her the steaming tea and they sat in the two easy chairs at the back of the shop.
“The concert was wonderful. We were very impressed with your cousin’s band. They were terrific.” Robert took a careful sip from his mug.
“Viv and John have been playing for years. They write a lot of their own music. I think they deserve more attention for their skills, but it’s tough to get a break, and anyway, they’re both happy with their day jobs. It was a fun evening at the beach concert. A little chilly by the water on an April night, but it was all good.”
They chatted about the tourist season kicking into gear soon, town happenings, and what Robert wanted the yard to look like this year.
“Have you thought about the flowers you’d like planted?” Lin asked.
“Lila has some ideas. I’ll leave it to her. She’ll talk with you next time you come by,” Robert said. “She’s out at a meeting.” The man checked to be sure a customer wasn’t about to come in and then he leaned forward. “How’s Tim Pierce’s table?”
“It’s been quiet.” Lin told Robert how Libby, she, and Anton tried the tipping tables game. “The ghost’s name is Ezra Cooper. He was a mason in the late 1700s. He owned Tim’s house. Not only did Ezra give us his name by making the table tap, but I saw him the other night when Viv and I were leaving Tim’s house.”
Robert almost leapt from his chair. “You saw him?”
Lin nodded. “Only briefly. A few seconds, and then he was gone. But I know it was him. He was on the opposite sidewalk across from Tim’s house on the far side of the street.”
“Remarkable.” Robert’s eyes were keen with interest. “Are you able to communicate with one another?”
“No, well, only with the table tipping and tapping. I have to guess at clues. The ghosts never speak to me.”
“It must make it very difficult,” Robert observed.
“It’s hard to know what they want me to do.” Lin glanced around the gallery. “Has Captain Baker been around?”
“Lila and I have sensed his presence a few times over the past couple of days.” Robert smiled. “He seems to be in a good mood.”
“I wondered if the captain knew Ezra Cooper. They both lived in town in the late 1700s.”
Robert’s eyes widened. “I could ask him, I suppose, but he’s never communicated with us other than by smashing or throwing things. I wouldn’t know how I’d get an answer from him.”
“Oh, yes, I know. I didn’t think we’d be able to get an answer. The thought crossed my mind that the men might have known one another back then, in passing anyway. It’s strange, isn’t it? Here we are hundreds of years later and both of them remain on the island as ghosts.”
“I often wonder why the captain stays here and doesn’t cross over.” Robert’s forehead lined in concentration. “I know he loves this house. I know the terrible tragedy he suffered. But why stay? Why linger on the earthly plane?”
Lin held her hands up in a gesture of helplessness. “I wish I knew. Is it because this place was home? Because it’s a comforting place to be? Are the spirits clinging to the place because it seems safe? Because it’s a known entity?”
“Why doesn’t another spirit come and help them cross?” Robert questioned.
Lin could only shake her head. “I don’t know what Ezra wants from me. There doesn’t seem to be a mystery to solve that will allow him to feel released from his worry or concern. It doesn’t seem he was wronged in any way. We haven’t found anything amiss yet besides his wife’s accident … and there’s nothing I can do about that.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“I saw him across from Tim’s house a few nights ago,” Lin said. “Viv and I were shopping for our wedding gowns the day before yesterday. I had a vision of Ezra and his wife at their own wedding. I don’t think the vision was caused by Ezra because I didn’t get cold … no icy air surrounded me.” She shrugged. “I don’t know how the vision came to me.”
Robert was quiet for a moment. “I can’t even come up with a theory about how you saw the vision.” He took in a deep breath. “If Abigail Cooper’s fall was the result of an attack or foul play, how would you know?”
“We try to find old articles or a letter or something that reports the incident. If it was mentioned in a letter, the writer might say something about Abigail being attacked or pushed or whatever. Without some written record, we’re only going on speculation. And at this point, we aren’t thinking Abigail’s fall was anything more than an accident. No news report, no nothing.”
Returning from her meeting, Lila came into the gallery from the back staircase and she sat with Robert and Lin as they told her about their discussion.
“Perhaps the man is just lonely,” she said. “Ezra might not be able to let go of the past and so he stays behind and doesn’t want to cross. Maybe he can’t come to terms with what happened to his wife.”
“But why is Ezra more upset over things than he has been in the past? Why now? What’s different?” Lin questioned. “Why has the table been tapping crazily? What does Ezra want that he didn’t want in years past?”
“I would think he’s wanted the same thing all these years,” Lila guessed. “I don’t know what that could be.”
“To go back in time and keep the accident from happening?” Robert offered.
Lin sat up, blinking. “To go back in time….”
“Ezra’s ghost must certainly know you don’t have a time travel machine,” Robert said. “He can’t be asking that of you. I simply meant that going back to the late 1700s is the only way the accident could be avoided. Ezra knows that, and if he could go back in time, he would have done it already.”
Lila said, “Ezra might be content here. Maybe he doesn’t want anything at all.”
“Why all the hubbub in Tim’s house then?” Robert pointed out. “If Ezra was happy here, he wouldn’t have been causing the antique table to rock and sway and tap.”
“True,” Lila admitted.
“Let’s concentrate on what’s changed from previous years.” Lin tried to think logically. “Tim’s grandfather passed away, for one.”
“Tim took over his grandfather’s house. He moved here from Boston,” Robert added.
Lila asked, “Do you think Ezra doesn’t like Tim? Is that why Ezra has been so agitated? Maybe he doesn’t like the fact that Tim is now the owner.”
“Why would Ezra be bothered by that? Ezra doesn’t know much about Tim,” Robert said. “Tim is only going to maintain the place, keep it in tip-top condition. What could Ezra not like about Tim?”
“Well, maybe Ezra is sad about the grandfather passing,” Lila told them.
Robert said, “If that’s the case, then why doesn’t Ezra cross over. That way, he might be a
ble to see the grandfather again.”
“Maybe the man’s death is what’s upsetting Ezra,” Lin said. “It might remind him of the loss of his wife and it might cause him to relive the grief he suffered.”
Robert shook his head. “I don’t think that’s it. It’s been what? More than two hundred years since Abigail and Ezra Cooper died. Ezra’s ghost must have been in the house since he passed away. Of all the other people who have owned that house, some of them must have died. Why didn’t Ezra get upset over those deaths?”
“Maybe he did,” Lila speculated. “But maybe he didn’t have someone like Lin to communicate his distress to.”
The Snows looked at Lin.
“Is it me?” Lin’s mouth dropped open. “Is me being on the island the reason? Is Ezra trying to tell me about his anger and sorrow? Has he never had anyone to share his grief with?”
“That’s about as good a reason as any,” Robert agreed.
“Perhaps Ezra doesn’t want anything from you,” Lila told Lin. “Maybe all he wants is for someone to validate his feelings.”
“That would sure be easy enough.” Lin rubbed at the kink at the base of her neck. “It’s possible that all I have to do is listen and acknowledge Ezra’s feelings.” Letting out a sigh, she asked, “Why do I think there’s more to this than that?”
Robert’s face brightened as he turned to Lin. “Why don’t you ask the table? Ask if Ezra wants something more than your understanding. Ezra might be able to communicate via the table taps. He told you his name with the tapping. He might be able to tell you something more.”
With a hint of a smile, Lin sat straighter. “Why haven’t I thought to do that? I’ll call Libby later today.”
11
Libby, Lin, and Nicky walked through the dark streets of town on the way to Lin’s house. The dog stopped every now and then to sniff at the edge of a lawn or at the base of a tree and the women paused and waited for him before they moved on.
“When I talked with the Snows, we wondered if Ezra just wants someone who can communicate with him and understand his loss,” Lin told Libby.
Libby had a skeptical look on her face. “But you can’t really communicate with him.”
“Not verbally, but over time, I get a sense of what a ghost wants. They know I can see them. They aren’t invisible anymore. They aren’t just lost amongst the living. I relate to them. They know I’m sympathetic to them.”
Nicky glanced up at Lin and let out a soft woof.
“You have a point.” Libby reached down and patted Nicky on the head. “Maybe there isn’t anything you need to help Ezra with. He may be happy there’s someone who is able to acknowledge him. We’ll see if he can tell us anything through the table.”
“Viv is going to meet us at the house. She’ll take down the letters while we sit at the table and ask the questions.”
Libby said, “I’ve been working with some friends to try and find some information on Ezra and Abigail Cooper. So far we haven’t discovered any more than what Anton found about the couple ... only the birth documents, the marriage certificate, and the death notices. Records back then were spotty or nonexistent, or they’ve been lost to time. Unfortunately, there may not be any more information left to find.”
As they walked up the brick sidewalks and turned into Lin’s neighborhood, Lin brought up Abigail Cooper.
“Why doesn’t she appear to me?”
“Abigail may have crossed over after she died,” Libby pointed out. “Ezra’s grief may have prevented him from leaving the island. He stays here agonizing over his loss. He may be unable to cross over due to feeling he was never able to finish living his life on earth.”
“It’s so complicated.” Lin turned the lock on her front door.
“Life and death can be very complicated,” Libby said.
Lin made tea and cut slices of cake and the women took the refreshments out to the deck. A mist rose from the meadow behind the cottage making it look mysterious and a little spooky in the moonlit night.
Libby asked about the wedding plans and Lin filled her in on the details.
“I’m very much looking forward to it,” Libby said. “It will be a beautiful and meaningful day and I can’t wait for it to come.”
“We’re here.” Viv called and came into the house with Queenie who padded over to the dog and licked his ears. Viv poured some tea and carried her mug out to the deck. “Give me a few minutes before we start. The bookstore has been crazy today. This is the first time I’ve sat down.”
Watching Nicky and Queenie heading to the meadow, she said, “Oh, look at the field. It looks like ghosts are floating on the moonlight over the mist. It’s creepy.” She shuddered, and then sighed. “But I suppose it’s fitting for our purpose tonight.” Viv suddenly looked hopeful. “Unless you’ve changed your minds about the table tipping?”
“The plan is the same,” Lin confided. “You can sit across the room far away from us like last time.”
“How about I sit out here and you tip the table inside?” Viv kidded. “You can shout the number of taps through the screen door.”
Libby stood. “Shall we?”
“Already?” Viv groaned.
“No time like the present.” Libby led the way inside where she and Lin set up the tilt table and moved two chairs next to it.
Viv took a seat at the kitchen island with her pen and pad of paper. “Whenever you’re ready. Let’s get this over with.”
Lin dimmed the lights and when she sat down across from Libby, they both placed their palms on the edge of the table and sat in silence for almost five full minutes.
“Ezra?” Lin asked softly. “I need help understanding how I can assist you. I need help understanding what you need. Can you tell us something that can lead me in the right direction? What do you need, Ezra? Is there something I can do for you? Is there something I can find for you?”
Nothing happened for quite a while and the women waited patiently, not wanting to rush the spirit, and then a wave of icy air enveloped Lin and she began to feel almost lightheaded. As the room started to spin, she pressed harder against the table trying to steady herself with her hands.
The table began to bobble a little as if the legs were uneven, and Libby and Lin held their breath.
The antique piece lifted an inch off the floor, tipped to one side, and began hammering the floor with one of its legs.
Viv stared with a look of horror, but she counted the taps … ten, eleven, twelve.
The table stopped for a half minute and then started up again.
Fourteen, fifteen. A long pause.
It went through the sequence of pausing and tapping two more times, and then it floated back down to the floor and went quiet.
“Is it over?” Viv whispered.
“I think so,” Lin said. “Right before it started, I got cold and my head felt dizzy. I feel back to normal again now.”
“What was the message?” Libby asked.
Viv looked down at her pad and filled in the letters that corresponded with the number of taps. Her head popped up.
“What did Ezra spell?” Lin questioned.
Viv’s eyes met Libby’s and then Lin’s. “He spelled … love.”
Lin hurried over to her cousin and stared at the word on the paper. “What does he mean?”
Viv shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Are you sure you counted the taps correctly?” Lin asked.
Viv made a face. “It wasn’t that hard. It was four letters, not a whole paragraph of information.”
“Love? What does that mean?” Lin ran her hand over her hair. “How can I do anything about that?”
“Does he mean the love he lost when his wife died?” Viv questioned.
“If he does mean that, what can I do to help him?” Lin’s face was blank.
“Can you help him come to terms with his loss?” Libby suggested. “Is that what he wants help with?”
Suddenly, with a ban
g, the top of the antique tilt table flipped itself up vertically and locked itself in place.
The three woman were wide eyed and Viv was gripping her cousin’s arm.
“Yikes. Why the heck did that happen?” Viv’s voice was barely audible.
Lin’s heart was pounding. “I don’t think Ezra liked what we were saying about coming to terms with his loss.”
“Why don’t we sit outside,” Libby nodded to the screen door.
The air was growing chilly when they took seats around the teak deck table. Nicky and Queenie emerged from the meadow and sat on the deck looking out at the darkness.
“So what is going on?” Viv leaned closer and kept her voice down. “Ezra doesn’t want help with dealing with his grief?”
“It seems not.” Lin took a quick look to the door leading to the kitchen.
“Well, what does he want then?” Viv asked with an exasperated tone.
Libby’s eyes were narrowed as she attempted to make some sense of the experience. “Before we started, Lin asked what Ezra needed, if there was something she could do for him, if there was something she could find for him.”
“That’s right.” Lin nodded.
“He answered your question,” Viv told her. “He said he needs love.”
“What can I do about that?”
Viv raised an eyebrow. “Maybe he wants you to play matchmaker and find him an available ghost.”
Lin groaned and looked to Libby. “Do you have a better idea?”
The older woman took a moment to answer. “Ezra wants love. He lost his wife and then he lost his will to live. The couple’s life was ruined by a simple accident, a twist of fate.” She looked at Lin. “Can you help him cross over? He might be able to reunite with Abigail on the other side.”
Lin’s mouth hung open. “How can I help him cross?”
“Other ghosts have crossed after you helped them with something.”
“But I don’t know what Ezra wants,” Lin said helplessly. “Tapping out the word love doesn’t give me anything to go on. He must know how to cross over. If he was ready to go, he’d go. He must realize that Abigail is probably on the spirit plane, whatever that is,” Lin mumbled. “He needs something to happen here before he’ll cross.”