by Sue Clifton
“No, but I remember my grandparents talking about him. Abel Mather was a hell-fire-and-brimstone preacher, as they called it. Grandpa used to tell me how my daddy would hide his face under Grandpa’s suit coat in church he was so scared of the preacher. Grandpa said no one in town liked the man, but there was no other church, so they all endured for a while. I’m not sure how Reverend Mather died. Another church, a Presbyterian, was built, and my family and most of the town folks always went to it.”
“I’m sure I could find information about it in your old newspapers, Teesh. Do you mind if I come and have a look tomorrow?”
“Not at all. In fact, you can bring any of them, or all of them you want, here to the hotel and browse to your heart’s content. I know you’ll take care of them.”
“I’ll pick them up, if that’s all right,” Zach offered. “I need to be doing some research for my book on Bar None. I’ve gotten sidetracked since I’ve been here.” Zach put his arm around Piper and gave her a hug.
After Teesh and Steve left, Hank and Cayce finished cleaning up the kitchen, insisting Harri had done more than enough. Harri did not argue.
“Great! I think I’ll turn in early. I’m exhausted from being in the kitchen all day.”
“Hank and I are going to the baths when we finish here. I think Piper and Zach are going, too. You sure you don’t want to join us?”
“Why? Do you need a chaperone?” Harri gave her sister her most sarcastic smirk. “Goodnight,” she called over her shoulder as she headed for the stairs, not giving Cayce time to think of an equally sarcastic answer.
****
Steve walked faster than usual to his cabin. It had been hard sitting there so nonchalant, listening to the talk of the boy’s murder. He had to get the word out, and fast. As soon as he entered his cabin, he locked the door behind him, something he rarely did, and made sure the curtains were all pulled tight, even on the back windows, so not even the tiniest movement could show through. He left the lantern low, leaving barely enough light for him to maneuver through the cabin.
At the back corner, he scooted the old battered chest aside just enough to get behind it, where a small door was concealed by camouflaging it like the rough lumber of the cabin walls. Inside the door was a small landing and a set of stairs, also made from rough lumber. He had to scrunch up and duck to go through the tiny door, and once in, he closed the door behind him, bolting it shut. The secretive man turned on a battery-operated lamp located at the top of the stairs before descending the small, steep, narrow stairs, going sideways one step at a time.
The underground room was as big as the cabin upstairs. Its walls and ceiling were covered in thick soundproofing material. Shelves of books lined the walls, and a high-priced computer sat on a table in front of the shelves. Another generator sat beside the table, and he immediately started it up. It made little noise. Without him hitting a switch, a bright ceiling light came on, and the computer made a noise that let him know he was connected to the outside world. Steve wasted no time as he sat in the desk chair typing out his message with the skill and speed of a well-educated man.
****
The moonlight undulated through the wavy old salvaged glass window of the bathhouse, its reflection adding a heavenly amber color to the already romantic waters.
What makes this water medicinal at the moment is the man beside me; he’s good for my heart. Can Hank be the one? I guess only time will tell. I thought Joshua might be the one I’d grow old with, but that didn’t pan out. ‘Pan out’—a good term for what’s happening in this old gold town.
As if sharing her thoughts, Hank pulled Cayce to him. With his arms around her, he was oblivious to her daughter and Zach on the other side of the baths in the shadows, probably making out—something he wanted to do but wouldn’t.
There’ll be plenty of time for that, I hope.
Hank was content to wait, especially since Cayce seemed to share his feelings.
Cayce cuddled close to Hank, feeling totally content. She refused to glance toward her daughter and Zach, but then something strange happened.
First, a harp played dreamy background music to the sound of a lazy, rippling stream, conjuring up a mental scene of clear water cascading over giant rocks with lush green ferns and evergreens forming the backdrop. Then the lights flickered as if someone or something was playing with the switch. The lights grew dimmer and then bright, repeating the process as the music continued to play.
“What’s going on?” Piper left the shadows and moved closer to her mother and Hank. Zach trailed behind her, holding her hand.
“The switch is over by the door, or I should say ‘switches.’ They’re side by side and only require the slightest touch to turn the music on and off or to dim the lights and brighten them,” Cayce answered as they all turned and looked toward the door.
“So who’s operating them?” Just as Piper finished her question, a soft giggle could be heard in the direction they were all looking.
“I guess we know now.” Cayce smiled. “Did you all hear what I heard?”
“If you mean that sweet little giggle, I know I heard it.” Piper smiled. “Sara, is that you playing with our lights?”
As if in answer to her question, the light grew brighter.
“If it’s really you, make the lights dimmer.” Once again, in answer to Piper’s question, the lights dimmed. She looked at her mother, and Cayce nodded her head, giving Piper the go-ahead to ask questions.
“Is this fun, Sara? Do you like this question-and-answer game? If you want us to ask you some more questions, turn the light brighter.”
The lights grew brighter.
“Are you alone, Sara? If you are alone, dim the lights.”
The lights stayed the same.
“If someone is with you, dim the lights.” Hank asked for the change this time.
The lights dimmed.
“Are the blue bubbles with you, Sara? If they are, turn the lights brighter.”
The lights brightened in answer to Piper’s question.
Cayce and the others watched, totally captivated by Sara, and felt this game could provide the answers to many questions.
“Sara, do you know you are a spirit, and that you are no longer alive like we are? If you know this, dim the lights.”
There was a pause as if Sara was thinking, or did not want to answer, and then the lights dimmed.
“Are there others who are no longer alive who are sometimes with you, other than the blue bubbles? If there are others who are sometimes with you, make the lights brighter.”
The lights brightened in answer to the question.
“Does the black fog scare you, Sara? If you are afraid of the black fog, dim the lights.”
Sara was quick to respond to the question, but it was a different response. The lights dimmed and brightened several times in rapid succession as if the little girl was frantic to let her new friends know she did not like the black fog, or that the fog was a threat to her.
“Do Charlie and the blue bubbles always protect you from the black fog? Dim the lights if Charlie and the bubbles protect you.”
The lights dimmed.
Piper looked at her mom, and as if she had read her mind, Cayce nodded her head “yes” and smiled at her daughter.
“Sara, we know you love the statue of Jesus. If you could pass on and go to Jesus in heaven, would you like that? If you would like to go to Jesus, make the lights brighter.”
Once again, the lights brightened and dimmed in rapid succession letting them know she very much wanted to be with Jesus.
“You can go, Sara. Jesus wants you with Him. Is there a reason why you don’t go with Jesus?” The lights dimmed slowly as if the little girl was letting Piper know she was sad.
“Are you waiting on someone to go with you?” Cayce asked. “If you are waiting on someone, brighten the lights.” The lights brightened.
“I’m going to say some names of people I know you love. When I say the name o
f the person you’re waiting on, dim the lights.” Cayce kept her eyes focused on the area where the light switches were and called out names.
“Teesh, or Virginia as you knew her…Absalom… your grandmother Belle…” The lights dimmed but only slightly with the mention of Belle, so Cayce continued. “Your mother, Salina, who you never really knew…Charlie.” Immediately, the lights flickered from brighter to dimmer and then repeated the process.
“You love Charlie, don’t you, Sara? So you’re waiting until Charlie can go with you to be with Jesus? If you’re waiting for Charlie, make the lights really bright.”
The light filled the bathhouse, making it almost as bright as daylight. The rippling water music stopped and changed. Bach’s “Minuet in G” played softly, but with a lighthearted beat. Hank closed his eyes and hugged Cayce tight.
Then came the most unusual and loveliest spectacle the group had ever seen. The couples clung to the sides of the bath as they gazed upward. Blue clouds danced overhead like swirls of full satin and silk gowns worn by the ladies of old, waltzing around a ballroom. In the midst, aqua-blue ribbons attached to a pearly white wisp moved with grace. It was magic!
The group continued to watch in awe as the clouds separated and darted above their heads like a giant mass of blue bubbles blown by angel children. Then the bubbles formed clouds again and danced around their little angel for several more minutes. The music softened as the lights dimmed. The bubbles and Sara faded, disappearing completely, and the group knew Sara had left them.
****
Despite her tiredness, Harri tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Finally, she got up and went to the kitchen for a glass of milk and a little sliver of pie that turned out to be a big sliver of pie. She picked up the Mormon cookbook and became engrossed in it, and after a seizure of yawning, she decided to try bed one more time.
As she put her dishes in the dishwasher, she felt someone’s drilling gaze on her back. Reluctant to turn around for fear the Reverend would be looking down at her, she walked to the window, pretending to look out, hoping to catch a reflection in the glass of anyone standing behind her.
As she pulled the curtain back, she saw the figure of a small woman dressed in black standing by the counter. Her face was covered in a black veil. Harri continued to watch, frozen, as Belle came closer to her.
Harri could feel her heart in her throat, and knew she had to turn around before Belle got to her. The madam’s eyes burned through the veil, and Harri could feel her anger, or perhaps her envy, because she was alive and Belle was not. The spirit floated like a mist without actually taking a step and was only three feet away now.
Harri jerked herself around, prepared to face Belle and her fury, but the veiled madam had vanished. A heavy piece of paper fluttered down from nowhere and landed on the floor where Belle had stood. The paper was a small lithograph of Belle and an African-American man who looked to be in his early fifties. Harri scrutinized the photo, and even though it had faded with age, she could see what Belle was telling her. Now Harri had to decide whether to show the portrait to Cayce or not.
A door banging upstairs jolted Harri out of her thoughts. She tucked the photograph into her pajama pocket and ran halfway up the stairs. The slamming door came from her end of the hall. Once again Harri’s heart pounded, and she wondered whether she should wait for Cayce before going any farther. Then she smelled it—an aroma so strong she had to cover her nose with the tail of her pajama top or risk asphyxiation.
“You won’t believe what just happened in the bathhouse, Harri!” Cayce yelled in excitement as she burst through the front door, almost giving Harri a heart attack. Cayce had a towel wrapped around her as she joined her sister on the stairs. She stopped and put her nose in the air and sniffed.
“Good grief!” Cayce pulled the towel over her nose and spoke through it. “I think these flower garden walls have sprung to life. That smell would be nice if it was toned down a notch, like to about nine percent of its present strength.” She looked up at Harri. “Is that your perfume? It smells like it. It can’t be mine, because I don’t have any.” Cayce coughed through the towel. “Dadgum! That’s caustic!”
“If it is my perfume, then somebody sprayed it like furniture polish!” Harri forgot her fear and put her legs in high gear, rushing to check on the expensive bottle of perfume she had left on her dressing table.
When she burst through her bedroom door with Cayce on her heels, her makeup was strewn all over her dresser, and her perfume bottle was empty. Harri held the bottle up to the light and shook it, but there was not enough in the bottom to even reach the long tube attached to the spray top. She rushed to the window and raised it all the way up, shivering as the cold mountain air rushed around her and through the room. Cayce ran into her adjoining room and came back clad in thick sweats and heavy socks, a stocking cap pulled tight over her wet hair. Cayce threw Harri a hooded sweatshirt, and she immediately put it on over her pajamas.
“I can’t believe this!” Harri’s jaw tightened as she cinched back her anger. After a big, deep exhale, she asked, “Do you think Sara did this? She’s never messed with my stuff in such a destructive manner.” She looked around to see if anything else was out of sorts.
“Not Sara. She’s been entertaining us in the bathhouse. I’ll tell you all about it as soon as I can breathe again.” Cayce had her nose covered with her shirtsleeve.
Harri noticed the open wardrobe door. Her little black dress she always brought along “just in case,” whatever that meant, was wadded up in the bottom as if a frustrated fat person had held the petite dress up to her plus-size body. It had been taken off the satin hanger Harri always packed just for the dress, and the hanger had been thrown on top of it. One of Harri’s expensive Italian stilettos lay on its side on the floor and was sprung apart as if the ghost of Sally, the three-hundred-pound-plus sourdough biscuit maker, had wedged her fat foot into it.
“This is ridiculous! No way sweet little Sara would do this, but who did? It couldn’t be Belle. I know her feet are small, and she’d take better care than that of expensive perfume. Besides, Belle just visited me in the kitchen.” A loud cackle echoed down the stairs. Harri and Cayce looked at each other.
“Peg!” Cayce and Harri spoke at the same time.
“That explains the one stretched-out high shoe. Peg’s other foot is a stiletto, heel only.” Harri rushed out of her bedroom, gunning for the ghost. Cayce followed on her sister’s heels; Harri chasing a ghost was something she didn’t dare miss.
“Exactly what do you plan to do when you catch her, Harri, as if you could? She’s halfway to the mine by now.” Cayce pointed to the front door standing wide open. “Look at the bright side. At least she won’t smell like tobacco and whiskey for at least a few days—make that weeks.” Cayce began laughing and couldn’t stop, standing on the stairs, holding her sides. Harri stormed back up to her room, gathered her makeup, locked it in her suitcase, and shoved the suitcase under the bed.
“I’m not locking this from you, Sara,” Harri announced to the empty room. “If you want to play with my stuff, you just let me know. I’ll hear you giggle and bring it out for you.” When she turned back, Cayce was looking down at her sister’s dresser, her mouth wide open.
“Where did this come from? You must have a secret admirer. Maybe it’s from Abel Mather.” Cayce held up a beautiful gold hand mirror.
“Not funny! Cayce, give me that!” Harri grabbed the mirror from Cayce and moved it from hand to hand, admiring it. “Did you feel how heavy this is? I need two hands to hold it. It looks like gold.” Harri eyed it closer, running her fingers over the edge. “I don’t believe this!”
“What?” Cayce looked closer at the mirror in her sister’s hands.
“Just a minute.” Harri opened the middle dresser drawer and pulled out the hairbrush she and Cayce had found in Peg’s cabin and put it next to the mirror. “It’s a matched set.”
Harri turned the mirror over and over in her hands, a
dmiring every detail. The mirror’s edge was wrapped in wide ornate patterns of leafy swirls, fleur de lis, and plumes that looked as if they had been plucked from the tail of a royal peacock. Each intricate pattern added delicate detail to the already luxurious item. The fancy edging was attached to a twisted gold rope outlining the silver reflective oval, showing its antiquity, value, and intrigue. All of the ornamentation was of the purest gold, making the large hand mirror worth a fortune.
Harri held the antique mirror with two hands, looking at her reflection. As she looked deep into the pocked silvering, her reflection faded, and another appeared, a beautiful young woman with a smooth face, her dark eyes cisterns of sadness that made Harri instantly melancholy. She placed the mirror face down on the dresser, realizing that Peg, whom she had just lambasted, had presented her with another unique and expensive treasure.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Billie awoke to the sound of the small automatic door being opened and knew she had overslept. Her breakfast had arrived. She took the cardboard tray and set it on the table. Then she sat, folding her hands in prayer like she had been trained to do from the first day. She finally forced herself to eat for the sake of her baby. She waited for the booming voice of the Keeper to begin his daily prayer and sermon about her sinful condition, a distorted and terrifying sound she loathed and dreaded each morning, but today was different. The voice was spoken through a synthesizer, but it was the soft voice of a female. She read the same scripture, but it was without the meanness and wrath of the devil Keeper. When she finished, Billie looked up toward the camera.
“You’re not the Keeper. Who are you?”
“No, I’m not the Keeper. But I am of his Fold.” The woman hesitated as if realizing she had said too much. “No more talking, please.”
“The Fold? What is that, and who is the Keeper?” Billie figured the woman would not answer, and was surprised when she did.
“The Keeper is the good shepherd; the good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep. He knows the sheep, and the sheep know him.” She paused for a few seconds. “And other sheep I have, which are not of this fold; them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice; and there shall be one fold, and one shepherd. John 10.” The voice paused for several seconds. “I must go now.”
