As they left the asylum through the massive front doors, Lilly breathed in delicious air. At this high elevation in Colorado, seven thousand nine hundred feet, to be exact, the day was cold. Still, Oleta didn’t add a cloak to her attire. Lilly wouldn’t rush to the third floor for her meager coat either.
Clouds passed over the sun in late afternoon; darkness came rapidly to Tranquil View Asylum at this time of year. High mountains to the immediate east and west assured night encroached more quickly than it did in the town of Simple down the hill. Even there, the wild woods surrounding the town often gave it an eerie, fairy-tale scary appearance. Wind danced lightly, flipping and scattering golden and red leaves from nearby aspen trees. Grass spread out from the front of the asylum, but it had grown brown and dry. Pine needles crunched under their feet. Huge ponderosa pines swayed and whispered, thick along a sharp mountainside that rose beyond the huge building. The view was deceptive—the auditorium building was centered behind the main building by about fifty yards, then the woods gathered in a dark mass behind that. The mountain, called Old Man by everyone she knew, crouched far behind at fourteen thousand feet—a lovely sight to behold. It was edifying and godly, the nurses always said. To the left of the main building, vegetable and flower gardens flourished, but only in summer. Canning was a popular hobby here, though restricted only to the least mad.
Down the hill away from the asylum the road led to freedom—freedom she’d been so excited to have each day she’d taken the carriage into Simple and gone to work. She sighed. It was freedom she now didn’t know if she should have.
She turned to glance at the asylum, and the wilderness that cloaked this place. It was meant to heal madness, but Lilly thought it did the opposite. She knew. Knew too well how Tranquil View lied to everyone who entered. Windows stared back at her, cruel and unsympathetic eyes. The central building’s high spires gave it a cruel expression, or a cathedral perspective, depending on your inclination. I will cure you and ease your horrible suffering. Lilly only went by her feelings and not what people told her to feel about the building.
Someone touched Lilly’s left shoulder and she jumped. She whirled about and saw no one but Oleta. Damn the ghosts. They made her afraid of even the living.
“Are you all right child?” Oleta asked, her middle-aged face creased around the eyes with concern.
“Yes. I was contemplating the building.”
“What do you see?”
“Secrets. Nothing but dangerous secrets.” Lilly jerked her attention away from the building and tilted her face to the fading sun. More clouds spilled over the mountain, puffy with the promise of snow. A chill rippled up and down her spine. “Come, what did you wish to speak with me about?”
Oleta led her toward the south side of the double winged building. A barrage of unholy laughter issued from a second story open window. Lilly glanced up. A white-haired man leaned out the window, cackling like what he was—a madman. Two male staff jerked him back into the window.
“And to think there are more insane than him.” Oleta’s sardonic smile made Lilly laugh.
“You are stalling. You didn’t suggest a walk so we could feel the chill.”
Oleta took a deep breath as the graveyard in the back became visible just nestled within the trees. She stopped. “Dr. Healy has a plan for his son Morgan. He wants him to find a wife, have children, and someday take over the asylum.”
“And? Why are you telling me this?” Lilly crossed her arms against the chill.
“As an aside dear. You’re of healthy mind and body. You need to leave this place.”
Oleta’s serious expression sent a chill through Lilly that had nothing to do with the weather. “I tried that once. It’s clear I’m not suited to be out in the real world.”
“Hogwash, girl.” Oleta put her hands on her hips. “I saw your face for three years while you worked at Arbig’s Apothecary. I know you learned there. More than that tutor that came in to work with you every week ever thought of teaching you.”
Lilly nodded. “Mrs. Cauldwell was a pathetic, strange thing in her own right. Until Harry and I got into trouble, I thought Mr. Arbig would keep me working there forever, and maybe I could have found a room in Simple and never come back here again.” Lilly shrugged. “Now ... no one in Simple would hire me even if I wanted another job.”
“You can’t stay in this place your whole life, girl.” Oleta’s dark eyes burned with conviction. “Do not let these people put you in a cage the rest of your life. It isn’t good for you. You need a home and family. Adventures.”
Lilly snorted in disbelief. “Maybe I don’t. My adventures got me nothing but heartache.”
“That’s not true.” Oleta shook her head. “You made mistakes. You kissed a boy and got caught. Things all young women your age do.”
Torn between agreeing and disagreeing, Lilly stared at the one person in the world she admired above all else. “I can’t be trusted.”
Oleta rolled her eyes and threw her hands up. “Utter nonsense, Lilly Luna. You have to find a new life away from here before it’s too late.”
A chill rolled up and down her body. “Too late?”
“I plan to speak to Dr. Healy for you. He said his daughter Patricia needs a maid. The last one left in a hurry a few days ago. Ran off and didn’t tell anyone where she was going. Patricia is a spoiled woman, so I hear. Probably arrogant as well as rich. It wouldn’t be an easy job, but you could leave here before the place taints you.”
Lilly’s mind spun with possibilities.
Oleta gestured with one hand. “Think about it, my dear. A chance to be free. You aren’t insane and I can vouch for that.”
“Are you certain? I can see in the dark. I talk to ghosts—“
“What?”
“Ghosts.”
“You never spoke of that.”
“Perhaps because you’d think me insane, and if there’s anyone’s good opinion I want, it is yours.”
Oleta started walking toward the graveyard, but Lilly didn’t move. Oleta returned to Lilly. “You can retain my good opinion by leaving Tranquil View, Lilly.”
“Do you believe me about the ghosts?”
Oleta’s slow nod held no hesitation. “As you know, I grew up in New Orleans. There are more ghosts there than anywhere in the United States, I imagine.”
Oleta had gotten permission to take Lilly with her to Denver on several occasions, and she’d met Oleta’s father and noted he was white and Oleta’s mother of dark complexion. Lilly had met cousins and relatives from New Orleans that had visited at the same time. She’d enjoyed the temporary friendship of Oleta’s cousin’s children. She’d also gloried in seeing the big city, the sights and sounds she’d only read about. She’d seen young couples walking in the park, a couple even daring to steal a kiss or hold hands. Lilly had wondered what it would be like to discover friendships daily, to have a life filled with the love other young people seemed to experience. She yearned for what she couldn’t have.
Oleta clasped her hands and watched Lilly with a patient expression. “Both my parents were from New Orleans. My father wanted to marry my mother, but he was forbidden by his family and they forced him to move with them to Denver to avoid a scandal there.”
Lilly could guess why, but she asked anyway. “Why?”
“There were several reasons. Because my mother was dark skinned. She was also of a far lower class than my father. He was only eighteen when he met my mother at a voodoo ceremony. Her mother, my grandmother, was a voodoo priestess.”
Astonished, Lilly couldn’t think of a thing to say at first. Finally she managed. “Why did a high-born man attend a voodoo ceremony?”
“He was an unconventional man. And when he met my mother it was all over for him. He loved her.”
“And yet he left her.”
Sadness touched Oleta’s face, pain clear in her eyes. “My grandfather ... his father ... was enraged when he heard my mother was pregnant, and threatened to have her kil
led. My father wanted to marry her and that’s when his family made him leave for Denver. Father knew that if he didn’t leave, something horrible would happen to my mother. He managed to send money to my mother every month for her well-being and mine.”
The pathos of it stung deep inside Lilly. “You were abandoned by your father.”
“Only while my grandfather and grandmother lived. They were killed in a carriage accident when my father was twenty. My father inherited the estate in Denver and he came to New Orleans for me and my mother.”
“A very loving man.” Tears stung Lilly’s eyes. The same warm and loving family would never be possible for her.
“Yes.”
Lilly knew that Oleta’s life in high society couldn’t have been easy. “And you’re not accepted by the class your father occupies, are you?”
Oleta shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. It makes me sad sometimes, but I’ve learned to live beyond it. I am happy with myself. I told my father I wanted to become a nurse to assist others, and here I am.”
Oleta’s peace of mind made Lilly envious. “How wonderful. Why are you sharing this with me?”
“So that you’ll know there is a happy ending for you out in the big world.”
Lilly rubbed her cold hands together as a chill wind rustled through the trees around the graveyard and brought a crisp pine scent to her nose. “Perhaps not if I see ghosts.”
“I learned through my mother that the living don’t want to see the dead because it reminds them of too much. Too much love lost. Too much hate wasted. Too much anger. You see the dead and you want to help them. That is a wonderful and godly thing, my dear.”
Lilly made a laughing sound, but it was a thin and false effort. “But I can’t tell anyone else. They’d want to keep me in here forever.”
“Yes they would, and you must not tell anyone else.”
“I once mentioned something to Wilma and she called me strange names. I told her I was lying and then she berated me for lying.”
“Pft! Wilma is a bitter woman who needs excuses to make herself and other people miserable. Do not ever listen to her child. You are a good young woman, an amazing woman even though you’ve lived in this forsaken place all your life. There is a new life for you, and you should take it before this place swallows you up forever.”
“I went into the world when I started work at seventeen. Look what happened. Perhaps I’m not very good at the real world.”
“Don’t let that one experience shadow everything. Everyone makes mistakes, Lilly. You’re no different.”
Quiet surrounded them while Lilly absorbed Oleta’s wisdom. Lilly couldn’t say she was convinced that her foray into work at the apothecary had been worth the embarrassment and the gossip that followed. Not wanting to think about it, she switched topics. “Do you think a building can be evil, Oleta?”
Oleta looked back at Tranquil View. “You mean this place?”
“Yes.”
Oleta nodded right away, and there wasn’t any doubt or ridicule in her expression. “I knew it was evil the moment I saw it twenty years ago.”
“Then why did you stay?”
Oleta’s eyes were glassy, as if she might cry. “Because I care about the people here. I care that there are so many trapped here who shouldn’t be. Like you. So many people need my help.”
“I help people here.”
“Of course you do.” Oleta sighed. “My father and mother instilled many values in me, Lilly. One is that helping people is one of the best virtues in the world. Second is that if we aren’t happy ourselves, we cannot make anyone else happy. I think you need to be happy first, then you can help others. Find your way in the world, then come back some day if you see fit.”
Warmth filled Lilly’s heart. She understood, in that moment, that Oleta had a point worth considering. It gave her the strength to say something she’d never shared before. “Tranquil View is wickedness Oleta. It swallows people. In the basement there is a big mouth that chews up everything that goes in it.”
Oleta’s eyes widened and she took a couple of steps towards Lilly. “What are you talking about?”
Lilly swallowed around the bile threatening to rise. She pressed one hand to her stomach. “Masterson Healy’s staff and the people who work here ... they are doing something to women. About once a year, men from the Healy house down the hill bring a body and it’s buried in the basement. Have you been down there? Did you know about it?”
Oleta licked her lips, her eyes filled with horror. “No. But this is ... barbaric.”
“Indeed. Murder.”
“How do you know this?” Oleta looked around, as if afraid they’d be overheard. “It’s not possible.”
Lilly explained the ghost, Catherine Renlow, showing her the graves dug into the basement floor and how Catherine had shown her a new grave. Lilly shivered in the cooling air as the sun crept below the treetops and headed for its nap beyond the mountains. She didn’t tell Oleta her plans for revenge. It wouldn’t be fair to burden her with that knowledge and perhaps if Oleta believed that Lilly just wanted employment to get away from the asylum, she wouldn’t object to Lilly trying to figure out who at the Healy household was doing the killing.
“That is the most sickeningly disgusting thing I have ever heard, and believe me I have heard a lot in my twenty years of nursing.” Oleta wrung her hands. “I have to go to the authorities about it.”
“No!” Lilly grabbed Oleta’s forearm. “Do not dare. You know that Masterson Healy is the law in Simple. The sheriff does whatever the man wants. If you report these suspicions, who knows what might happen to you?”
“I don’t feel right leaving this alone.” Oleta pondered, her gaze darting back to the dark gray edifice that frowned on them. “Tranquil View is certainly not a proper name for this place.”
Lilly followed her friend’s gaze and released her forearm. The building appeared for all the world like a living being, a huge old man with brows and cold, gray, stone eyes. “I will do as you say and become Patricia Healy’s maid.”
Oleta peered at her. “Are you doing it to get out in the world and make your own way? Or is there something else you have up that sleeve of yours? If someone is harming women at the Healy house, perhaps you shouldn’t go.”
“I shouldn’t have told you about the ghosts or the bodies.”
Oleta’s eyes were sad. “I will worry about you every minute you’re there. But I cannot stop you if you want to go.”
“I want to go.”
Lilly started walking toward the graveyard beyond the south side of the building. “Hurry. The sun is going down, and I don’t want to visit with my mother and Becca in the dark.”
* * *
Lilly awakened to the brush of cold fingers on her right forearm. She bolted upright, her breath coming fast. “Who is it?”
She shouldn’t have asked, for even in the full darkness she saw the figure standing at the foot of her small bed and recognized it. Her heartbeat banged in her chest, and she took a gulping breath.
“Becca.” Lilly whispered the word, apprehension tightening her neck muscles, and her jaw until it ached.
The little girl, only seven, gripped the metal footboard with alabaster hands. In life, she’d always been a small female for her age, with delicate features and big blue eyes. Her golden wheat hair had inspired compliments, even from people as cruel as Mrs. Angel.
Becca’s paleness had an unearthly luminescence and her once ocean-clear eyes were more like charcoal, as if she’d dipped them in a darkness she couldn’t escape. Vein-blue lines striated around that haunting gaze. Her mouth was thin, pursed in anger, always hate filled. Her hair no longer favored health but a silvery glow. Lilly wished Becca would accept the flowers and the visit every day at her headstone. Why did she persist in showing up every few nights to taunt her? At first Becca just stared. Lilly often wondered if she wanted to steal her soul.
“What do you want?” Lilly asked softly, keeping her voice low
.
“Your death.” The voice issuing from Becca was deeper than it should have been for a child, and certainly not what Becca’s voice had sounded like in life.
“That is old information, Becca. You must think of something original to say if you’re going to awaken me in the middle of the night.”
Becca’s expression rarely changed, but this time she smiled. A dark hole appeared where there should have been teeth, and Becca’s raspy laugh made hair stand up on Lilly’s arms. It didn’t matter how many years Becca had come to her. It still made Lilly’s blood run icy. She tried to visualize a shield in front of herself, a way to protect against something ... someone no one else could see. It failed. The ugliness of Becca’s soul, as malignant as it had been in life, reached for Lilly with spiny fingers. Weakness filled Lilly’s limbs, the coldness of death reaching to wrap around her body.
“You owe me.” Becca’s voice held contempt, the maturity of someone far older than seven years. “You must give me your life.”
“We’ve had this conversation before Becca. You cannot have my life.”
“Give me your life so I can be whole again.”
“No.”
“You owe me.”
“I come to your grave every day. How much more do you want?”
“Your body. Die for me so that I can be whole.”
“No.”
“You are stupid. A wretch.”
“This is an old story, Becca. It did not work while you were alive. It will not work now.”
“It will if I ask enough times.” The voice sounded childish now, less demanding and more pleading. “And I always get what I want.”
Lilly’s guilt and fear leaked around her heart. “It’s been years and years and I have not said yes. What makes you believe I ever will?”
“Because you owe me.” Becca’s voice became louder, sharper, with a hiss. “You shouldn’t be alive.”
“Why shouldn’t I? Why must you have my life to be happy?”
“Because then I can run and play again like I used to.”
Shadows Wait Page 3