Momma, still looking unhappy with JimDaddy, patted my cheek. “I gotta get,” she said. “See you in the morning.”
“What did you do?” I said, leaping to my feet.
JimDaddy raised his hands.
“Nothing,” he said. “It was just for a second. You reminded me of my little girl.” He went to the door. “I better help your momma with the baby. She might be more than one grown woman can take care of.”
I wasn’t sure if he meant Momma or Baby Lucy.
“Tell him!”
I spun around to face Tommie, then swung back to JimDaddy.
But he was gone.
80
“I said, what did you do?”
Tommie stood in the corner, arms folded across her chest. Her face looked sorta squished.
“Are you talking to me?” she said. Who knew a ghost could look smirky? I’m here to tell ya, they can.
“I told you to tell him something. You didn’t. So I went to visit the baby.”
I was to her in a moment. Across the wooden floor to the corner where the pink bled through the aqua-colored wall.
“You,” I said. I raised a finger like I might poke her in the chest. But she was a ghost. And sure, I could feel her breath and talk to her and all that, but would my finger go through her or not? I didn’t want to find out. “You stay away from my sister.”
“She’s my sister too,” Tommie said. Her eyebrows went up and she tilted her head at me. “And what will you do if I don’t stay away? Tell on me?” She suddenly looked like a ghost all right. Scary. Her eyebrows lowered into a scowl. Her eyes grew dark. “Kill me?” Her skin turned more pale, wispy, gray.
Okay, maybe she didn’t look much different from a girl who had died and now stood in my bedroom, but jeez! Isn’t that ghosty enough?
I swallowed. Clenched my hands into fists. Heard the blood in my ears. “You have no idea who you are dealing with.”
“Oh? And who is that?”
We stood toe to toe.
“I am a Messenger,” I said. “And I have powers.”
Outside lightning cracked, lit up the sky. Thunder rumbled and the house shook.
“Seeing the dead is a power?” She said it like what I said was a joke.
It was a joke. What did I know about seeing the dead? Still, I tried. “You talking to anyone else?”
Lightning flashed again. Then rain pounded the roof like coins from heaven.
“Lots of people can see them, Evie. The Messengers don’t have a corner on the market.”
Others? Who cared about others? I cared about us. About my family.
“If you hurt my sister . . .”
There was another crash of thunder. Then, like it started, the rain stopped.
“Relax,” Tommie said. It seemed the air slipped from her body and she deflated. “I’m no demon. Babies can see me and . . . and . . . and they love me. When I was at the mall waiting for you to get back from wherever you and Justin went, I went around entertaining the masses. You took awhile, you know?”
Embarrassment tried to color my cheeks, but I refused to let it.
“Sorry,” I said. “And the baby thing?”
I thought of my sister, all rosy and soft and sweet-smelling, having to sleep alone in her room. With a ghost about, no less.
Tommie slid over to where I was. “And nothing. Babies adore ghosts. Did she stare in the air and coo when she was younger?”
I nodded.
“Ghosts.” Tommie looked off across the room. In the direction of Buddy’s house. Her voice came out low. “I wanted babies of my own,” she said. “With Justin.” Then she looked at me.
I swallowed again.
A guilty swallow.
“Your sister cried because I left the room. Not because of anything else. I’m not evil. I don’t even run with anyone evil. If I were to run at all.”
“Oh,” I said. Because what else do you say to a ghost who has a broken heart and is still in love with the guy you like?
81
That night after Tommie left, I imagined not getting babies you wanted, even if you were just twelve or thirteen.
I imagined leaving my momma and Baby Lucy and Aunt Odie—and JimDaddy, who was growing on me like mold.
What would I do without them?
If I left early?
If I left for good?
82
If anyone asks you if you want your Gift to be the one where you communicate with the dead—I mean full-on communicate—say no.
I wanted to be mad.
I wanted to make her leave and never see her again.
But I was the only one here for Tommie.
The only one who could see her and talk to her.
83
I wouldn’t want that to happen to me.
To lose everyone and everything.
I sure would not.
84
Almost.
Almost asleep. Between awake and dreams.
Reaching for family. For before.
Reaching out.
85
In my dream there was the sound of a siren, wailing. Crying down the hall to the baby’s room.
My feet had turned to wheels and I couldn’t stand.
I jerked awake.
Silence blanketed my room, and out the front window I could see the moon, a saucer part full of cream.
86
The next morning, early, I rang Buddy’s doorbell, checking over my shoulder every once in a while.
Did Tommie watch me?
The door opened and Buddy’s momma (it had to be—she looked like a female version of him, only older . . . and meaner) stood there, hand on the knob.
She didn’t say anything. Just stared at me. And waited. It was a long, cold minute.
“Ummm,” I said.
She tilted her head.
“I . . .”
“Let me guess,” Buddy’s momma said. “You come for Justin Lee.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It’s awful early, isn’t it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Six a.m.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
A breath of air swept down the street, damp as a wet washcloth. Storm clouds billowed out over the ocean. This sure was a wet fall.
“Lots of girls come looking for him.”
“Oh.” It was too humid out here. I wanted to adjust my clothing. Take off my bra and sling it back toward the house. Smooth my hair. Run, even. But I didn’t. I stood there, muscles twitching.
“He’s not here,” she said. Her voice was low. Behind Mrs. McKay, in the massive foyer, I could see a painting of the family. There was Mrs. McKay, Mr. McKay (I supposed), and six boys, all of them different ages that looked like Buddy at different stages of life.
Buddy came down the hall then. For a moment it appeared he wore the massive chandelier as a crown. Then he saw me and headed toward the door, a huge smile on his face. He wore pajamas.
“Mom,” he said, peering over the top of her head into my eyes.
She loosed the knob. Gave me one last stare.
“You can’t do this anymore.” Buddy towered over his momma. “She doesn’t like that I date,” he said, grinning.
I cleared my throat. Twice.
Mrs. McKay edged back to the staircase that ran like a cake decoration up to the second floor. She watched us until Buddy closed the door behind himself and me, with a click.
I let three minutes of used oxygen from my lungs.
“Wow,” I said. “That was intense.”
A redbird cried out and a mockingbird answered as Buddy grabbed my hand in his. “Not as bad as your aunt Odie.” He grinned so big his eyes disappeared in their own squintiness. “Nice to see you, Evie.”
&
nbsp; “I don’t think so,” I said, and shook free. “Not here.”
Who knew who was watching on either side of the street? Could be a ghost. Or an unhappy mother.
Buddy looked down at me.
“Five brothers?” I asked.
“Six,” he said. “That portrait is old.” He leaned toward me.
I wanted to touch his arm. Smooth his hair.
But the living and the dead watched. (I could see his momma peering out the glass now. Staring at us. She wagged her finger at me.)
I pulled away. “I need a ride,” I said. “Can you help me?”
Buddy nodded. “Sure. Let me change my clothes.”
87
I held Buddy’s hand all the way outta New Smyrna.
We kissed at each red light.
Cassadaga came into view far too soon.
88
What was it with the weather?
Billowy clouds had turned gray. Dark. Ready to let loose.
“We’re looking for . . .” I kept my eyes peeled on the side of the road, searching for Paulie’s place.
Cassadaga seemed different at the crack of dawn, with the storm moving in, not right on top of us.
At first I could see, though the air darkened and grew thicker. Buddy turned on the windshield wipers even though it wasn’t raining.
A slow fog drifted close to the road. Across it. Into the woods.
The sky looked like an eggplant.
Buddy turned loose of my hand.
Flicked on the headlights.
Watched the road.
Until, “That’s his place right there,” I said.
89
Paulie rolled his eyes when he opened the door. I could see by his face we had awakened him.
“What?” I said. Behind him the dead lingered, wandered, stared off into space.
“Not you again. And without your aunt or an appointment. This is too early for no appointment.”
“Lookit,” I said. Buddy stood so close, he kept bumping into me. “If you can tell the future, you shoulda known I was coming.”
Paulie blocked the door. “I don’t tell the future. That’s William down the road a piece.”
I pushed my way past Paulie, wishing for Aunt Odie but knowing I had to do this on my own. “ ’Scuse me,” I said to several spirits, who parted and let me come in the front room.
“I’m Buddy,” Buddy said, and he reached to shake hands with Paulie.
Paulie raised his fingertips like he had gotten his nails done.
“Can’t touch anyone until the right time,” he said. His voice was almost an apology.
Buddy glanced at me. “O-kay,” he said.
Paulie closed the door behind us. The house went dark, dark, dark.
“You need a reading?” he said. But not with much oomph. He gestured toward the table.
“I need answers,” I said.
Paulie drew himself up tall. There was a nervous look around his eyes. “What makes you think I have answers?”
I glanced at the room. The curtains pulled open at the front windows were purple paint color. The same shade of purple as in Paulie’s billowy housecoat.
We stood there.
Toe to tippy-toe.
Me glaring up.
Him gawking down at me.
When I checked on Buddy, I saw that not one ghost was interested in him. He sat at the edge of the sofa, and all today’s visitors (or were they here always, waiting, hoping for someone to drop in and ask about them?) had moved away and crowded closer to me and Paulie. Like they listened to us.
“You know something.” I whispered the words.
He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even seem to breathe.
“You knew on my birthday.”
Still nothing.
“I heard you. I heard Aunt Odie. There’s something going on, and I need to know what it is.”
Paulie came to life then. Swept one hand at Buddy, pointing his way to the sofa (and dark-cherry-colored divan), then toward a door where I read the words NO ADMITTANCE.
90
Considering the storm brewing outside, the back part of Paulie’s house was bright as sunshine. The walls in the kitchen were yellow, the appliances were stark white, the sink deep and filled with fresh-cut flowers standing in water.
There were no ghosts.
“Wow,” I said.
“Working with darkness, you stay in the dark.” Paulie put a teakettle on. “Got some of your auntie’s chamomile tea here. I do not know how she makes it.”
“With love,” I said.
Paulie smacked his lips. “That is the truth,” he said. “I can taste it. You wanna cup too?”
I nodded. “Sure,” I said, settling onto a chair the color of limes. “But you know what else I want.”
Sigh. “Answers.”
91
“We each got something,” Paulie said. He raised and lowered the tea bag. “We come with it. All of us. The Gift, as your family says.”
So Tommie was right.
I sipped at my drink, almost too hot, that Paulie had added honey to.
Nodded. This I had heard.
“It’s like a light, for most. Some? They never know they even have a Gift. Then there are people like me. A guide of sorts.” He pressed his thumbs to his chest. “I can help you see what you have. There are those people like your aunt.” He waved his hand. “She has a Gift that’s bigger. People might call it magic. But you and I know better.”
I held my breath.
I knew it.
I felt empty. Hollow. Waiting.
Scared?
No. Nervous.
“So your auntie, she’s a good woman, isn’t she?” Paulie handed me a macadamia nut cookie and took one for himself. “Made with love,” he whispered as he took a bite. Crumbs fell onto the table, and he wet his finger and ate them up. “She has a different degree of seeing. She can taste what a spirit offers her. Sees the words plain and clear.”
I thought of the recipes that came to Aunt Odie.
“I’m a psychic. I been helping your family for years. Years and years. Find their specialties.”
“Years?”
“Much longer than you can believe.”
We stared at each other.
“Much longer.”
I gulped.
“Oh.”
“And I help others, too. It’s my job. Get thoughts and feelings from the dead sometimes to give advice to the living.” Paulie looked at me. “But you, Evie. You are different. You have a big power. You see the dead. Converse with them, maybe.” He glanced at me.
He tapped the table with his fingernails.
I nodded. Gulped again. Tried to breathe. Whispered, “Yes.”
“Evie, look. I feel it’s even more than that. Your duties might be a little more complicated. But am I right? About the conversing?”
My voice warbled from me, like a dying bird might sound. “I can see them. Lots of them here in Cassadaga. Your place is crawling with them.”
Paulie tilted his head.
“Crawling?” he asked.
“Crawling.”
“That’s how you knew about Ezra Bargio.”
I nodded. “The woman—his sister—wanted him to know everything was okay. She practically forced me to tell.”
He glanced around the spotless kitchen. “Crawling?” he asked again.
“And I see her.”
Paulie shivered like a goose—or a ghost—had run over his grave.
“This one girl. I talk to her. She follows me. Always there. Maybe like the people in the other room.”
Paulie’s eyes were wide as pies.
“They’re friendly,” I said.
He swallowed. “You sure?
Sometimes a ‘force’ will come that’s ugly. I have to send it away.”
Now I nodded. “But lookit. I need help.”
“Of course.” Paulie held his hands out, palms up. An uneaten cookie sat there. Who had handed it to him? “I knew what you could do when you were here. It’s been a long time since someone like you has come into your family. I was surprised.” He coughed, and a cookie crumb flew from his mouth. It landed on the tabletop, but Paulie didn’t go after that morsel. “You sure they’re friendly?” he asked.
“I’m sure.”
Paulie ate the remaining cookie in two bites. Was he making me wait on purpose? “Now you have to understand something.”
“Okay.” That’s why I was here. To understand. If I could catch my breath. And if Paulie could just catch his.
“Your aunt didn’t come on her Gift all at once. Neither did I. We searched it out. Figured it out. Figured what there was that had to be done. Now the Gift must be right at the top of your most-important list. You have to take care of it. Not just keep your name when you marry.”
“Are you saying,” I said, “I don’t have to be like this?”
“Huh?” Paulie said.
“Are you saying I could leave this behind?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that.”
“Why not? You got a room full of ghosts waiting on you. I don’t want that. Right now I got one who climbs in my bed.”
“That’s scary,” Paulie said. He shivered.
“You’re telling me.”
Paulie took my hand in his. “They won’t go just because you want them to. Just because you ignore them.”
“Answer this for me. Can I lose this Gift, Paulie?”
He hesitated. Made an expression like he hadn’t heard what I said.
“Can I?”
“Well, sure, Evie. A person can lose anything.”
That was all I needed.
I leaned back in the chair. My tea had cooled. Outside the window the rain fell. Heavy, fat drops that left the heavens in slow motion, like they might change their minds and head back to where they had come from. Maybe because, at last, I had an answer I could tolerate.
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