The Fifth Sense

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “Got them!” Heather returned, holding the keys. “Ready? I texted Martin. He’ll bring Jan by the theater to meet us.”

  Sue hated herself for being so relieved that Vivien hadn’t answered her question. If she didn’t have the answer, she could pretend the woman didn’t know how bad it had been.

  “Come on, Sue. We’ll take you to the theater and get you settled.” Vivien followed Heather.

  Sue stood alone in the dining room. She reached for her coffee cup and took a sip. The liquid burned its way down her throat, and the faint smell of cologne filled the air. Her hand shook, and she slowly set the mug back on the table.

  “Hank?” she whispered. “If that is you, I need you to go. You’re not alive anymore.”

  There was more she wanted to say, but fear kept her from yelling at him. He’d always hated backtalk.

  “I’m sure there is a giant party waiting for you on the other side,” Sue kept her voice quiet, feeling a little foolish for talking to the air. “Fully stocked bar that never runs dry.”

  The smell lessened, and the air felt a little lighter.

  Sue let loose a deep breath as she looked around the dining room. Had that worked? Could it really be so simple?

  Vivien came to the doorway. “Sue? Everything all right?”

  Sue nodded and hurried to leave. “Yeah, coming.”

  Chapter Six

  “Warrick Theater,” Sue read on the plaque affixed to the outside of the building. A small tremor worked over her as she saw Julia’s name. The three friends had kept referring to the jewelry as Julia’s rings. Seeing the woman’s name on a bronze plaque along with a story of how she commissioned the building over a hundred years ago drove home just how much Heather, Lorna, and Vivien believed in their ghosts and magic.

  “She was quite the lady, huh?” Vivien said, joining Sue by the plaque. She lightly ran her hand long the words, paraphrasing, “Suspected witch and part of the Spiritualist movement, Julia held séances in this theater to talk to the dead. People would travel hundreds of miles to come to her shows.”

  “Was Heather close to her?” Sue asked.

  “Yes, very,” Vivien said.

  “Julia taught her how to be a medium?” Sue glanced down the sidewalk to where Heather paced while talking on the phone.

  “No one had to teach Heather to see things. That happened whether she wanted it to or not. Julia taught her to understand it.” Vivien also glanced at Heather before looking around the downtown area. “She helped me too. Mainly, she helped me realize I wasn’t a freak for feeling the things I feel or sensing the things I sense about people. She taught me to trust myself.”

  Sue wished she could trust herself. She had once, but she hardly remembered the feeling. Hank had beaten it out of her. When she tried to hold on to her independence, he’d hit her harder. When she tried to leave, he’d come at her with flowers and an apology, and when that didn’t work, he’d broken her arm.

  “It’s going to be all right,” Vivien said.

  Sue nodded, not answering. She had to stop thinking about Hank around this woman. Pointing at the plaque, she said, “Do you still do séance shows here?”

  “No. This was back in the early 1900s. Freewild Cove likes its quirky past, but if we were to try to hold public séances, they’d probably riot and burn the building down. Trust me, having grown up here as that weirdo kid in class, I’ve seen firsthand how intolerant good folk can be when it comes to someone who isn’t like they are.”

  “That’s not special to Freewild Cove. People everywhere don’t want to hear when things aren’t like they think they are.” Sue went to a window and cupped her hands around her eyes to look inside. She watched the shadows for movements.

  “Don’t worry.” Vivien patted her shoulder but didn’t let the contact linger. It sent tiny jolts of Vivien’s emotions through Sue, so she detected Vivien’s concern. “Julia always sent the spirits back when she was done talking to them.”

  “I wasn’t worried,” Sue lied. In truth, it freaked her out a little, like going into a reportedly haunted house.

  Vivien lowered her voice as if telling a secret. “What the plaque doesn’t say is that Julia Warrick made her money to pay for this building and several other properties in town by bootlegging moonshine and growing marijuana during Prohibition. She was quite the gangster.”

  “Is that true?” Sue asked.

  Vivien nodded. “Heather and William inherited a lot of the properties. They both went into construction. Heather rehabs old houses and turns them into rentals. William is more on the construction site and runs a crew, though he does flip houses.”

  “And you? What do you do?” Sue asked.

  “Not much of anything.” Vivien laughed, only to add, “I own several fast food restaurants.”

  The smell of sea air stirred along the sidewalk of downtown Freewild Cove. The buildings along the block looked as old as the theater. Cars filled the opposite side of the street, and a hefty amount of foot traffic went into the Chinese restaurant.

  “Two words. Crab Rangoon.” Vivien pointed at the restaurant. She moved her finger to indicate down the block. “That way, turn right at the end of the block, and you’ll find a bookstore and coffee shop. Left will get you to an organic grocery food store. Pricey and small, but they have a great produce section. However, if Verna tries to get you to taste her homemade fruit cake ice cream, say no. It’s chunky and not in a good way.”

  “No to chunky ice cream,” Sue repeated with a nod. “Sounds like solid advice.”

  Several cars drove past, slowing as they neared the theater. The people in them openly stared at Sue and Vivien. Sue turned her back on them and pretended to look at the poster for an Elvis impersonator concert hanging in the glass case close to the theater’s front door.

  “It must be nice living so close to the beach,” Sue said.

  “It is. I think we take it for granted sometimes.” Vivien leaned against the building and glanced to where Heather paced the sidewalk as she talked on her phone.

  “Please don’t touch the water main. I’ll send one of my guys out to check the pipes—no, no, don’t do that,” Heather stated firmly. “I understand that your boyfriend has a special tool, but…”

  Heather turned, and her voice became too hard to hear. She braced the phone on her shoulder, pulled a small notepad from her back pocket, and began writing on it.

  “Her renters are always up to something,” Vivien muttered. “She’s too lenient with them.”

  “How so?”

  “She probably won’t make the foot the entire repair bill, even though it’s their fault and what they did went against their lease,” Vivien said. “She never charges as much as she should. On some of the properties, she barely breaks even.”

  “I have money,” Sue insisted, feeling guilty. “I don’t mind paying for—”

  “Okay, done!” Heather strode toward them, shoving her notepad and phone in her back pocket, only to reach into her front pocket to produce a set of keys.

  “I didn’t mean you,” Vivien dismissed the concern. To Heather, she asked, “What was it this time?”

  “Marianne has a new boyfriend. He tried to install a jacuzzi that he built himself in the back yard, but instead of using a hose, he thought it would be a great idea to hook into the house’s water supply to make his own faucet.” Heather waved a hand in dismissal. “They don’t have water. I texted Butch to go check it out.”

  “I’m not sure what worries me more. The he-built-it-himself part, or the tapping-into-a-water-main part,” Vivien said. “Do you need to go? I can show Sue upstairs.”

  “No, Martin is on his way with Jan. He needs to get back to his job site.” Heather took a deep breath and looked like she did indeed want to check on the property. “Anyway, I—”

  “I can watch Jan,” Vivien offered.

  Heather hesitated and then shook her head. “No, Butch will text me with pictures.”

  The front lobby centere
d around the concessions. Sue recognized the art deco design and gold and burgundy sponge-painted walls from the magazine. Every sign she’d been given had been leading her to this place. The ring sent vibrations up her hand. She could no longer pretend it was too tight and pinching a nerve. The vibrations were too timed, too deliberate.

  Something inside her whispered that this was a safe place. Energy pulsed from the walls, nearly imperceptible, and she felt like a young girl walking into a cathedral—the awe, the fear, the power of imprinted human emotions so consuming that it left her speechless.

  Muffled voices came from outside. Sue turned to see faces pressed up against the glass as two women looked in at them. Heather started walking toward them, and they quickly went along their way.

  “If any busybodies ask what you’re doing here, tell them you’re theater security,” Heather said. “Nobody needs to know your business.”

  “Tell them to mind their own,” Vivien corrected. “I would say to flip them the bird and tell them to fuck off, but you seem nicer than I am.”

  A small laugh erupted from Sue at the comment. She covered her mouth.

  Vivien winked at her. Her phone started ringing in her purse. “This is probably Troy calling me back. Give me a second.”

  Vivien stepped away to answer the call.

  Sue turned to see Heather swatting at the air next to her.

  “Bug?” Sue asked, not seeing anything.

  “What?” Heather frowned. “Oh, yeah, just a pest.”

  Sue made a point of glancing around. “This is a great place you have.”

  “Thank you.” Heather again swatted at the air before moving closer to Sue. She gestured to the curtains on either side of the concessions. “The theater seating is through those curtains beside the concession stand. Feel free to wander around if you get bored.” She pointed to the right. “Alley access is that way. We keep it locked. My brother has a key to that door, but he’ll rarely use it unless I ask him to stop by to do something for me.”

  Sue nodded.

  Heather drew Sue’s attention to the left and motioned toward the restroom sign, “restrooms,” and then walked past them down a corridor. “This is the office. Concession stand storage is further back. Feel free to grab snacks or sodas from the soda fountain in the lobby. Just leave a note for Lorna so she can track when it’s time to reorder more.”

  Heather stopped at a door near the office and pulled it open to reveal stairs. She gestured that Sue should go ahead of her.

  As Sue went up the stairs, Heather followed behind her. “I’ll leave you the keys to lock the apartment and to get into the building.”

  Sue paused near an apothecary cabinet that lined the wall at the top of the stairs. “I can’t believe how generous you all are, and all because of a ring I found. I’m sorry if I’m acting standoffish about it all. I’m not used to people being…”

  Sue swallowed nervously and fought the tears gathering in her eyes. Heather waited patiently.

  “I’m not used to people being kind for no reason,” Sue said. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Heather answered. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but we’re here if you need to talk about it.”

  Sue nodded, unable to speak as she continued to choke down her emotions.

  “I mean, us women of a certain age need to stick together, right?” Heather smiled. “If you ever want to watch something fun, comment to Vivien sometime how life ends for women at forty. Or call yourself old or, like, out-of-date. It will send her on a long, hilarious rant about women empowerment. The last time she did it, there was something in there about magical ovaries shooting sparkles out her hoo-hah—I don’t know, but it had us rolling.”

  Sue chuckled, realizing Heather had intuitively changed the subject to make her feel more at ease. Out of the three ladies, Heather appeared to be the most emotionally guarded, so maybe she understood how difficult it was for Sue to talk about her feelings. “I’ll do that.”

  The loft apartment looked nothing like her home in St. Louis. In fact, it looked like a completely different life. Exposed brick walls had once proudly held the name, “Warrick,” but the faded white paint had been scrubbed off the red brick in spots. The faint sound of a revving engine came through the closed windows, moving past on the street below.

  As she came to the top, she felt as if she stepped over an invisible threshold between her past and future.

  Who was the Sue who stayed in the apartment? What did she want?

  This Sue didn’t have to have dinner ready at precisely six o’clock. This Sue didn’t have to iron shirts. This Sue didn’t have to make sure the towels were folded perfectly, the way her husband liked them. She didn’t have to scrub toilets on Tuesday, wash windows on Wednesday, or vacuum daily and make sure the vacuum lines were pointed in the right direction.

  What did she want?

  With the open floor plan, she could see the entire space from the top of the stairs. Reclaimed wood furniture divided the space into recognizable areas. An island and barstools marked the kitchen’s boundaries with a small table next to the window, making a dining area. For the bedroom, there was a queen-size bed, dresser, and nightstand, next to a frosted glass partition. Opened doors revealed a small bathroom and closet. As promised, there was no television, but instead a couch and built-in bookshelf to create the impression of a living room.

  “What do you think?” Heather asked. “Will it work?”

  “It’s perfect,” Sue said.

  “Good,” Heather said. “I’ve always liked this apartment.”

  Actually, it was dangerous. A place like this made her want to stay. It made her think that maybe she could walk away from St. Louis and never go back. Perhaps she didn’t have to be Susan Jewel anymore.

  But that was stupid. She had a house and things that needed her attention.

  Could a person start over?

  Could she walk away from everything?

  Could she pick this location, the here and now, and just… what? Just live in North Carolina? Just move to Freewild Cove, a town she had never heard of until her television started sending her messages from the beyond?

  Here, she could disappear. No one knew Hank. She wouldn’t have to listen to people tell her how sorry they were, how lucky she’d been, how he was such a wonderful person.

  “Yes.” Sue nodded, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

  “Have a look around. Please be sure to note that there is a fire ladder under the bed. In case of an emergency, hook it to a window and climb out to the sidewalk below. After some apartment buildings caught fire several years back, I’ve been making sure to have them in all my properties over one-story.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m going to go down and wait for Martin and his daughter. I’d like you to introduce you to her.” Heather smiled. “She’s a special girl.”

  Sue nodded.

  Heather started to go, only to stop. “Do you have kids?”

  Sue shook her head. “No. I wanted them, but it wasn’t in the cards. You?”

  “I had a son,” Heather answered.

  Had.

  “I’m sorry.” Sue didn’t press the issue.

  Heather nodded her acknowledgment and hurried down the stairs.

  Sue took several deep breaths. There was no sign of Hank’s cologne. Maybe this is what the magic had been trying to do, lead her to this place for a new start. Now that it had done that, possibly Hank would be out of her life forever.

  This was her future.

  Sue found herself smiling as she turned a slow circle to look at the apartment.

  What did she want?

  Who could she be?

  Chapter Seven

  Sue stared at the quiet street below the apartment window. She wore a pair of pink leggings and a t-shirt with a bedhead kitten on the front. When she threw clothes into the suitcase, she hadn’t been paying attention to what she packed
. The results were a mismatched wardrobe that would make a bag lady proud.

  Streetlights illuminated the night, making it easy to see the view below. For hours, traffic had centered around the Chinese restaurant. She watched the people going in and out—couples, families, groups of friends. The sound of voices occasionally made their way up to her. She watched them, almost mesmerized by the tiny vignette she saw of their lives. A tear slipped down her cheek as she imagined how different this place might be compared to the past.

  Sue told herself she was silly for being so fascinated with strangers. She felt as if she stood in a doorway. She could walk all the way through and come out in Freewild Cove, or she could turn around and go back into St. Louis. Both options made her anxious. She wanted a new life so badly. She wanted to forget Mrs. Hank Jewel.

  Finally, she realized what she felt was hope.

  How long had it been since she’d felt hopeful about anything?

  Sue swiped at her tears. She dropped the curtain. Seeing her phone on the charger, she went to check it. She’d found it dead in her purse and hadn’t thought to check it sooner. She didn’t want to talk to anyone.

  Seeing several messages, she contemplated not listening to them.

  Sue took the phone to the couch and sat down, crisscrossing her legs, so her feet were off the floor. With a sigh, she put her voice mail on speaker and set her phone on her leg.

  “Sue, this is Kathy. I was thinking of our boy, and I remembered he had these cufflinks that his father had given him. I’d like them back. They have a lot of sentimental value to me. Call me.”

  “You mean dollar value,” Sue muttered as the call hung up.

  “Sue, this is Kathy. Why haven’t you called me? Did you find the cufflinks? I just miss our boy so much. He was such a…”

  Sue frowned at the phone and put her hands over her ears to block the woman’s voice. After a few seconds, she dropped her hands and looked down.

  “…a special dinner in his honor. Of course, we expect you to be there, but we won’t need you to say anything. I told them you’d be there. I’m going to need you to make sure you clean yourself up. And do your hair. Not like the funeral. Please tell me you’ve been to a salon. Just call me.”