“That’s it!” I said out loud. I marched down to my bed. This was my room and my stuff! I didn’t like anyone, dead or alive going through my things! I stopped in the center of the room. “Can’t you people respect a person’s privacy?” I said aloud.
I reached over to the bed to see that not only was the cap off, but the glowing red light showed it had been left on. Next to it was an indentation on the bedding, evidence someone or some thing had been sitting there playing with it.
This was definitely another ghost, not Molly. Not only did the room feel different somehow, no way would she leave the bed mussed.
I grabbed the camera and clicked the button on the back to display the pictures I’d already taken—the ones back home of the lake and swans in Central Park. As I scrolled through the images from home I squinted at the small screen. There were new pics.
And I didn’t take them.
The first few were random, off-kilter shots of the coffee table and floor. But the next one showed the face of a young boy. Under the large forehead, his eyes were ferret-like dark slits, while his lips were drawn back in a snarl. Another showed only half his face, his lips loose and eyes open wide. His hair was cut very short and uneven, while the shirt he wore was a striped jersey. It reminded me of the kid in Home Alone.
The hair on the back of my neck stood high all of a sudden. I wasn’t alone in the room anymore. I turned my head slowly and then gasped. He was standing at the foot of my bed, glaring at me with eyes narrowed in anger. My heart leapt to my throat and an icy shiver crept down my spine.
We were both frozen in place staring at each other for what seemed like minutes but was probably only a few seconds. His image began to waver at the edges like the heat waves above a highway on a hot summer’s day.
I took a deep breath, willing my voice from my throat which was suddenly dry as dust. “Who are you?”
For a moment he was silent, and then he spoke.
“Sam.” It was the high-pitched voice of a young boy. He stepped back and the top of his pants; worn, raggedy jeans came into view. He had to be only nine or ten years old from his size, but still, his sudden appearance made my blood run cold.
“What are you doing here?” I felt like I was in a dream— that this couldn’t be happening. A ghost, a young boy was standing only a few feet away and I was asking him questions? And he was answering?
I crossed into the Twilight Zone from the first moment I entered this house.
“It’s my room. Why are you here? Did Mama send you up?” His image faded a little and once more he took a step, or rather floated backward in retreat. His eyes now showed fear and his hands were fisted at his sides.
His Mama? What the heck was he talking about?
A flash of the room, a small iron bed and some wooden toys on the floor, while the young boy stood looking out the window, appeared in my head and I jerked back. The vision and emotions that accompanied it was enough to tell me the story. Yes, this had been his room at one time. I sighed sadly. He died up here. I hadn’t a clue how I knew this, but I’d stake my life on that fact.
The boy was watching me warily, with dark waves of fear emanating from his body. He was a prisoner here. He looked around at the room and when he turned to look at me again, the fear was now terror showing in the whites of his eyes.
“What happened to my room?” his voice was now shrill. “Where is my room?” The poor boy was now more scared than I was.
“This is my room now, Sam. You shouldn’t be here.” My voice had softened, barely above a whisper.
He looked frantic now, his gaze skimming over the room. His body shimmered, becoming translucent so I could see the wall behind him. And then he was gone.
I took a few ragged breaths and I gripped the camera tight. If not for the photos, I could pretend this had been a dream, some kind of wacky hallucination. The temperature became warmer on my skin and I peered out the window at the bright day, a wisp of a cloud showing next to the sun. But it had happened. And what’s more, GM knew about the spirits who haunted this room. What kind of sick sadist was she anyway?
The full weight of the implications of the episodes I experienced fell on me when I got to the top of the stairs and I grabbed the newel post for support as I gasped for breath.
There really are such things as ghosts!
I panted, trying to catch my breath. My entire picture of the world had just been ripped apart. Mom and Dad never went to church, they described themselves as committed agnostics. I enjoyed scary movies as much as the next girl, but now what had been the territory of Hollywood and Netflix…was folding my clothes and playing with my stuff?
If ghosts were real, then was God real? And if God was real, just how much trouble was I in for not going to church? And which God was it? Was he? Her? Should I be going to a mosque? A temple? An Ashram?
Oh man, this was a lot to take in for an afternoon. I looked down the staircase. Two floors down GM was sitting smug as the cat after the canary, and she’d been living in this place for years!
“One thing at a time, Keira!” I said out loud. Great. I’m here two days and I’m talking to myself like an addled old woman. Just. Great.
Okay, then; one thing at a time. Fine. First Molly and now Sam. Both had lived in the house, specifically in my room. They were tied to that room somehow. GM had said why not talk to Molly? Well, I’d tried that with Sam and I wasn’t sure if it helped either of us. For sure, I was moving from that room... if not out of the house entirely! Sam and Molly were welcome to it.
As I emerged from the stairwell to the second floor, I glanced down the hall where the other guest bedrooms were. I could move in there, but there was no guarantee the same thing wouldn’t happen again. The place was old and probably lots of people over the years had died in it. Who knew what kind of entity would show up?
When I entered the sunroom, GM was still sitting in her wicker chair. She looked up and her eyes examined me like an ant under a magnifying glass. I shook my head from side to side and plopped down in the chair across from her. This was unreal. I just saw a ghost—my second ghost, and now I was going to chat about it with my grandma! I looked at her, my eyes narrowing. She knew something had happened... probably that’s why she wanted pictures of her roses. Any excuse for me to go back upstairs. This bitch set me up!
“Kiera? What’s happened?” She leaned forward and her fingers covered mine.
I yanked my hand away from her and spat the words out. “You know what happened! That’s why you wanted me to go upstairs to get the camera. You knew there’d be another ghost to scare the hell out of me!”
Her mouth was a straight, inscrutable line as she watched me. “Yes?”
“That’s it? That’s the only thing you’ve got to say about this!” Her passive posture, the acceptance of all this like I was discussing the weather or some inane thing was maddening. I grabbed the camera and pulled up the photo of the boy on the small screen. I thrust it at her. “Here! Is that who you thought I’d meet? How many other ghosts do you have up your sleeve?”
I looked wildly around the room waiting for Casper to pop out of a wall. No, nothing. Okay, so far so good. I turned back to GM.
She glanced at the camera and then her fingers tugged at the cuff of her shirt. She leaned over to peer inside. “Nothing up my sleeve.” When she chuckled, I was tempted to jump out of my seat and throttle her.
“Laugh if you want, but I’m out of here! I don’t care if I have to hitchhike home but I’m not staying!” I held my tongue from telling her what a sadistic bitch I thought she was. She owed me an explanation, if nothing else, before I left.
The worst of it was, I’d have to go back into that room to pack my stuff. I shoved my feet out and crossed my arms over my chest, slumping down into the seat.
“If you’re through having your tantrum, I’ll explain it to you.” She rose to her feet, steadying herself with her hands pressing the top of the cane. “Well? Come along and take some shots of my ros
es. I’ll tell you all about it, outside in the sunshine.” The corners of her mouth twitched upwards and her chin rose.
“My hand shot up and I pointed at the ceiling. “There’s ghosts in my bedroom! And you want to take pictures of flowers? Are you insane?” Why bother to ask? The woman was totally bonkers.
GM’s head tilted at me, an annoyed expression on her face. “Not bonkers, young lady. Experienced. Now, let’s go.”
I huffed out a breath and followed.
What the hell else could I do?
ELEVEN
WHEN I STEPPED OUTSIDE, looking over the expanse of green lawn, anywhere but at my grandmother, the sun was warm on my face. In the distance, the rays sparkled on the small waves of the river, while a sailboat floated by.
Her hand skimmed over my arm and landed in the crook of my elbow, tugging me closer. “First of all, this is your home, so there’s no hitchhiking away from it.”
“No, it’s not. It’s your home and you’ve got two, too many residents for my liking.” That was generous on my part. I’d only met two of the ghosts when there was probably an army of them. I slowed my gait to accommodate her. She was, after all, pretty old, even if I could have throttled her.
“I’m leaving the house as well as the bulk of my fortune to you, Keira.” She stopped, her eyes large and solemn, watching me.
My mouth fell open. GM barely knew me and she wanted me to inherit? Not that I wanted any part of this house, but the fortune... well, that could solve some problems. “What? I don’t understand. Why me and not Mom?”
“I said ‘the bulk’. Your parents will be well provided for, don’t worry.” She turned and motioned with her chin for us to continue to her precious rose garden. “I told you before, you are special, Keira. Your mother, much as I love her, didn’t inherit your abilities.” She glanced over at me and smiled. “Take Sam. It was a very long time before he showed himself to me. But with you it was only a couple of days. That shows real promise.”
“Thanks.” This time it was me who ground to a halt. What the hell was I doing, thanking her for scaring the hell out of me? “Wait a minute. You knew I’d encounter Molly, but Sam was some kind of test? Is that it?” This was insane. Who did this kind of thing? And to their granddaughter of all people!
“Yes. As crazy as it might seem, you passed the test. As for the house, we’ll talk about your inheritance in more detail soon. First, I need to know what transpired between Sam and you.”
I chewed this over in my mind for a few moments. I had just been hit with a one-two punch and had to process it. I stand to inherit millions, I’m sure; and on top of that, my meeting Sam was some kind of test? Test for what? My head was spinning.
“Keira.” GM touched me. “Just tell me what happened between the two of you.”
I blinked a couple of times. “I asked him his name and he told me. He wanted to know if his mother had sent me. I told him the room was now mine and he should leave.” My eyebrows bunched together when I remembered the vision which flashed in my mind. “I saw the room for a moment the way it had been, when he lived there. He was kind of like a prisoner there.” I sighed. How was that possible for a young boy like him? Yet the fear in his eyes had been real.
GM squeezed my arm and leaned closer. The scent of roses drifted into my nose from her proximity. “He was a prisoner. A hundred years ago, when a child wasn’t right in the head, they were often locked away. Sam had bouts of schizophrenia and was kept up there, away from the other children.”
I knew the answer to my next question, but needed to hear it from her own lips. The day had gone completely still around us; the sounds of birds chirping and the breeze in the trees faded as we talked. This was too weird for words. I looked at her from under my eyelashes. “And you know this... how?”
She smiled sweetly. “I talked to him, of course. That’s also how I found out Mary... I mean Molly’s story.” She paused for a moment, giving me an appraising look. “You did the right thing, asking him to leave. Your instincts were right on.”
“So he’s gone? For good?” I blew out a huff of air. “Well, that’s a relief.”
“I’d be surprised if that was all it took.” Her cheeks blossomed into a grin and her eyes twinkled at me. “Keira, what do you know about the afterlife?”
I looked past her at the house. “A hell of a lot more than I did a couple of days ago, that’s for sure.” I returned my gaze to her. “What do you mean, GM?”
“Did you believe ghosts existed, before coming here?”
I chewed my lip. “No, not really.” I looked away and added, “But I wanted to. I mean, I kind of wished they did.”
“Why?”
I had to think that one over for a few seconds. “Because… if they exist… then we never really die.” I nodded my head. “Ghosts prove there’s life after death, don’t they?”
GM nodded, “You drew a good conclusion from the evidence at hand, Keira. Well done.”
I didn’t admit to her then—and wished I could have—that her approval made me feel good. “But then… why don’t we see them all the time, GM?”
“Bingo.” She pointed her fingers at me like she was shooting a gun. “That’s the next good question. Why is that, do you think?”
“I don’t know… but I’ll bet you a million bucks you got some ideas.”
She nodded. “You’re right, I do. I don’t have all the answers, but I do have some.” She cocked her head back to the big house. “Molly… and Sam… you saw their spirits… their souls, if you want to use that term. Whatever word you use, you’re describing that part of us...” She paused and held my arm. “The part of us that moves on.” She glanced back at the house and then back at me. “I believe it’s the energy in us which is truly just us.” She tapped my chest. “There is an energy in you which is only Keira, dear.” Tapping her own chest, she added, “Just as there is an energy in me which is just me. It’s this energy that moves on to another plane of existence after one’s body dies.”
“So when I saw those ghosts, I was actually seeing their souls?”
“I prefer the term spirit, but yes—the fundamental essence of their nature which transcends their bodies.”
“Yeah. That makes sense to me. I mean, I remember from school, they say energy can never be destroyed. It might transform but it still is.” My brain was just beginning to ache now. I’m no intellectual; the deepest discussions I’m used to are who’s hotter—Johnny Depp or Brad Pitt. Just so you know, it’s Ryan Gosling.
GM was watching me as the wheels turned in my head. Then it hit me. “It’s like in the movies and books!” I said. “The ghosts I see are ones who are stuck here!”
She clapped her hands, smiling. “Now you’re getting to the heart of the matter!” She put her hand around my waist and we continued down the path of the garden. “There is a thin curtain separating life as we know it and the next plane of existence, Keira. The spirits of some people get caught in that fabric, like a fly behind a window sheer. They’re stuck between here and eternity. They’re supposed to move on, but sometimes people are too rooted in the life they’ve led.” She gave a small shrug. “Sometimes they don’t know they’ve even left the living.”
I came to a stop. “How do you know this GM? I mean, you sound so certain about all this.”
“It’s been my life’s work, Keira. I see spirits.” She held up a finger. “I mean, occasionally other people are able to as well, but only when those spirits reveal themselves. But for me I’m much more attuned to them. I experience souls who are marooned.”
“Marooned?”
“Yes. They’re tied to this world when they should have moved on.” She was silent for a few moments, watching me trying to digest this.
The Haunting of Crawley House (The Hauntings Of Kingston Book 1) Page 34