“Yeah, sure.”
She rapped the tip of her cane on the floor. “Let me tell you, being an unwed mother in the late nineteen sixties was no picnic, Keira.” Her lips made a thin line. “No matter how much wealth one had, one was always… judged. I was under considerable pressure when I learned I was pregnant.” Her mouth turned downward. “My doctor advocated giving the baby up for adoption.” She sighed. “But worse than that, Susan’s father wanted me to have an abortion.” She stared at her teacup, turning it on the saucer. “That was the last straw between us.”
I pushed my half-eaten plate of fruit and yogurt away. “Which brings up my grandfather. You told me you had no idea who he is! I found that hard to believe when you told me that. At least you’re being honest now!” If she was going to be so insistent with regards to Gwen, I was going to get a little of my own back at her.
“I had my reasons for being… misleading. I can tell you, the man who is your grandfather isn’t a man you would like to know. At one time I thought he was dashing, handsome. I didn’t want to acknowledge his darker side.”
My mouth fell open as she spoke. So she knew who it was. I was right! A picture of a dark-haired, athletic man in tennis shorts and a light shirt flashed in my mind. He was classically handsome, with dark eyes and a strong jaw. I couldn’t help but grin. It was obvious she hadn’t meant to send that image to me. I’d picked it up all on my own! “GM! He was hot!”
I stifled the chuckle which threatened to burst forth at the indignation in her eyes at me being able to grasp that image from her mind. I decided to press on about her past. “Why did you get pregnant then? Were you two guys married?”
She shook her head. “No. We were living a carefree life and I was on the pill.” She raised her eyes to mine. “Which works ninety-nine percent of the time. One time out of a hundred, it doesn’t.” She made a wistful smile. “Which is why your mother’s middle name is Oona; it was the closest I could come to One.”
I had completely forgotten about Gwen at that point; I was excited to learn about family history which had been hidden from me for so long. “So what happened? How did you guys meet?”
She made a rueful smile. “It was the Summer of Love in nineteen sixty-seven, and I was in San Francisco.” She shook her head wistfully again. “The positive energy in that place for that summer was incredible, Keira. I was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. My gifts were still merely budding.”
“No ghost nudging yet?”
“That’s right. That came later. Back then, I was able to earn my living gambling. I could pick horse races, or sporting event outcomes with astonishing accuracy. And it was through those endeavors I met David Holmes. Back then, gambling outside of Las Vegas was pretty much the purview of criminals, and David ran an establishment for the local mob in my area.”
“Ooohh.. a bad boy.”
She nodded. “He seduced me to try to learn my secrets.” She shrugged. “To be honest with you, we probably seduced each other.” Her eyes glittered. “It was torrid, let me tell you. We were both passionate—”
“You mean horny.”
“Don’t be crude. We were both passionately in love, and very strong-willed.” She paused and stared at the floor. “Being with him, though… caused my gift to develop dramatically.” She looked back up to me. “And… in some way I still don’t understand, it instilled a form of that gift within him too.”
“What do you mean?”
“He started to develop powerful hunches about people.”
“He could read minds too?”
“Not to the degree you and I are able to, no. But he could tell people’s desires… and their weaknesses.” She held up a finger. “And that extra… edge, or whatever it was… he used to advance himself up the ranks of his organization.”
“He became a mob boss? Like a Godfather type?”
“He became ruthless, yes. But he always stayed behind the scenes.” She shook her head. “That sort of life was repugnant to me, and so I left him. I changed my name and disappeared.”
“He never tried to find you or his daughter? That’s cold.”
GM smiled. “When a person with my abilities decides they don’t wish to be found, they’re not found, Keira.”
“So where is he now?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve hesitated to keep tabs on him in order to keep your mother—and you—safe from him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Before I left him, he was becoming more and more evil, Keira. He had a taste of the power from the beyond and found it intoxicating. He wanted that power for his own ends, not for a greater good. I use my gifts to bring peace to lost souls. He uses what he has to further his own ends. The further you keep yourself from him, the better, Keira.” She blinked and her eyes closed for a few moments. “Promise me, you will never try to contact him.” Her eyes became misty as she gazed at me. “It’s for you... your safety that I ask this. Promise me.”
My shoulders fell lower and I exhaled slowly. This was really important to her, if she was on the verge of tears. “I promise.”
She straightened and her chin rose, pushing up from the chair. “Good. Now if you’re ready, I think we should have another go at contacting Jarrod. He’s waited long enough to leave this sphere, don’t you think?”
I sighed. Back to the ghost grind, Keira.
TWENTY FOUR
FOR A MOMENT, I PAUSED before getting to my feet to join her. She’d just dumped a load of information on me and now was brushing it off like the lint she was perpetually finding with her thin fingers. It would take some serious willpower to not do a Google search for my grandfather... but I’d give it a try for her sake.
I took a deep breath, shaking the image of my grandfather from my brain. It was immediately replaced by another disturbing thought. “We aren’t going to use the Ouija board again, are we?” I asked.
“Most likely.”
“Why? It didn’t help the last time.”
She tugged the collar of her shirt higher. “I know that, Keira. But we won’t have a choice. It increases our ability to reach those spirits who don’t want to be reached.”
“And others.” I stood up. “Like demons.”
“I know. It’s a risk we must take. For Jarrod’s sake, and for the sake of The Veil. His presence here is weakening it, Keira. If we transition him, my hope is that the demon that’s attached itself to him will be banished.”
“Oh, alright then.” The thought popped into my head. “Wait a minute. Is that what happened before?”
Her face took on a sheepish look. “Ummm… I don’t know. I’ve never encountered a demon so strong before. We’ll hope for the best, shall we?” With that she turned to the living room.
Oh boy. “Buckle up, Keira,” I said aloud. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride.” My knees were only shaking a little bit as I followed her out to the living room.
Lawrence was already in there. He had the drapes all pulled closed and was going around the room with the smoldering bundle of sage again. “Hey, Lawrence,” I said, “don’t you do that at the end of the session?”
“I’m hedging our bets, Keira. I don’t like this any more than you do.” He gazed at GM as she hobbled over to her seat on the couch. “But Pamela has decided, and my job is to support her.”
GM’s face was resolute, but she nodded in appreciation to him as she took her seat.
I nodded. “If it’s any consolation, I’m not looking forward to it either. What is with this spirit that we have to use that thing?” I knew GM didn’t like using it, so why bother? What was so important about this guy that she and I couldn’t just call him ourselves? Convince him to leave?
GM was staring silently straight ahead, so Lawrence answered. “For one thing, he’s very frightened.”
“He’s not the only one,” I muttered under my breath. I had no wish for some demon to hitchhike a ride with Jarrod, and the Ouija board was definitely the way for that to happen.
“Yes, but you’
re strong. And getting stronger by the minute. Now, let me complete the cleansing ritual.” He nodded over to a shelf. “If you would set up the candle and the pyramid crystal on the table, I’d appreciate it.”
I did as I was asked, and took my place opposite GM as Lawrence waved the bundle of smoking sage over each of us. My hand reached into the pocket of my slacks and gripped the tourmaline stone GM had given me a few days ago. It felt smooth in my hand. I hoped all this mumbo jumbo with sage and stones was going to help. I closed my eyes and began to do the breathing exercises she taught me. I opened them, and GM nodded.
“Let us begin,” she said.
We both leaned forward, our fingers lightly touching the planchette, while Lawrence took his place in a chair by the door.
“Jarrod Blythe, I ask that you come forward. Are you here with us?” GM spoke like she was a teacher calling out to an unruly kid.
The planchette began to vibrate, slowly at first and then faster and faster. My breath caught in my throat. It started moving slowly to the side of the board where the word YES was written, but stopped just shy of it.
GM huffed a fast sigh and spoke again. “Jarrod, you must leave this plane.” Immediately the planchette shot to the word NO, circling it in small, jerky movements.
“Are you afraid to go?” GM glanced over at me and her chin rose higher.
I sat on the edge of my seat, barely able to keep contact with the small triangle when it swooped across the board to the word GOOD BYE. It was so much like the last time—the abrupt ending. But GM wasn’t having any of it this time.
She took a deep breath and continued; the determination showing on her tight lips. “We aren’t through here, Jarrod. I know you are frightened, but you don’t belong here anymore. Will you take the next step and leave this plane of existence?”
Once more the planchette skimmed over the board, stopping at the letters: C A N N O T D O O M.
Cannot doom? He couldn’t leave and was doomed? Clearly, not every spirit could be persuaded to leave. Some were beyond helping, even for someone like my grandmother.
Again, the image of a thin, weasel-type guy cowering in a corner, flashed in my mind. It was pointless to try to reason with him. He was a terrified little man. Without warning, his image swirled, dissolving into a cloud of black and purple vapor.
Suddenly the planchette began moving once more.
K E I R—My heart was in my mouth when the next letter it stopped at was an A.
GM gasped. “What about Keira?”
But the small gadget wasn’t through yet. It continued on: G W E N.
My grandmother jerked back, almost relinquishing her touch on the planchette.
“What does that mean? Why my name and then Gwen’s?” I edged forward, my eyes darting from GM to the board. But the answer wasn’t in my grandmother’s eyes. She looked as spooked by this as I felt. My heart pounded against my ribs so hard I thought it would jump out.
The breath caught in my throat when the planchette shot to the GOOD BYE. I jerked my hands back and stared at GM Lawrence was already on his feet striding toward us.
“What did that mean? Why did it say my name and Gwen’s?” My fingers trembled as I pulled the tourmaline stone from my pocket and held it in my lap. This was supposed to be a communication with Jarrod and I hadn’t said a word but I was being singled out? And not just me, but Gwen?
GM looked down at the floor, and her forehead was lined with deep furrows. “I don’t know.”
Lawrence picked up the bundle of sage again and fished a lighter from his pocket. He flicked the lighter and brought the flame up to the charred end.
Without warning, we were completely enveloped in a black and purple cloud. It spun around us with a whooshing noise. I could barely see GM through the haze, and the stench of it made my breakfast roll in my stomach. GM’s face showed she was as shocked as I.
I looked over to where Lawrence was. He was as still as a statue; frozen in place. In spite of the rushing noise from the disgusting mist, the flame was completely still. I tried to speak, but my throat was frozen.
“Enough!” GM’s scream was so loud, her voice cracked.
The cloud condensed into a long, writhing tube. It circled the room once more before evaporating through the wall.
“What just happened?” Lawrence asked. I turned back to him. He was holding the flame to the smudging bundle. “Something just happened, didn’t it?”
“Did you see that?” I said.
“See what? I thought I heard Pamela say something.” He lifted his eyes from the sage to GM and gasped. “Pamela!” He dropped the sage.
I leapt from my seat. GM was laying back against the seat cushions gasping. Her hair was completely disheveled and her hand was on her heaving chest. “I…” she gulped for air, “I need to go to my room now.”
Lawrence elbowed me out of the way, and lifted her into his arms. I followed.
“I’ll call an ambulance!”
“Absolutely not!” they both said in unison. I stopped dead in my tracks.
Lawrence turned to me. “No, Keira; your grandmother is having a spell is all. There’s medicine in her room, and she’ll be alright shortly. She just needs to lie down and collect herself.”
“Lawrence! She looks like she’s having a stroke!” I strode up to him in a rage.
GM lifted her head. “No, dear; listen to me.” Her breath was coming easier already. “Lawrence will look after me, don’t worry. Dearest Keira, you need to check on your friend. I’m worried about Gwen.”
“GM, she’s at work! It’s not even lunchtime!”
“No, Keira… it’s well past noon,” she sighed. “This has happened before. Look at your watch.”
I held my watch up. It read four fifteen p.m.
Oh shit.
TWENTY FIVE
MY CAR SKIDDED as I turned into her driveway. As soon as it came to a stop I leapt over the door and sprinted up the driveway, past her truck to the front door.
With any luck she’d be fine and I’d use the excuse of checking in to see how she had liked dinner with Lawrence and GM
Devon was on the front porch, the magazine he’d been reading spread on his thighs while his head lolled to the side, sound asleep, snoring. Buster must have seen me coming; he was cowering over at the farthest end of the porch. I didn’t want to wake Devon, so I crept around him and through the front door.
I stepped inside and listened for any sound of activity, where Gwen might be found. When I walked across the hall and paused at the foot of the long staircase, her voice drifted down. Okay, she’s on the phone or something—that was a good sign.
As I tiptoed up the stairs I could hear her voice.
“Can you hear me?” came from her half-open room door. “Are you there Mom?”
“Gwen?” I said when I got to the doorway.
“Aaagh!” she cried out. I burst into the room. She was on her feet, her eyes wide, while her hand swept up to her neck before she breathed a sigh. “Oh, it’s you, Keira.” She glanced away, blushing.
“Yeah. Sorry. The door was open and your dad is asleep on the veranda. I should have—”
“No! It’s fine.” Her hand fell and she clasped my arm. “Maybe you can help me!”
She pulled me into her room and I stopped short, seeing what was on the bed. Oh my God. Not a Ouija board. This was too much!
The Haunting of Crawley House (The Hauntings Of Kingston Book 1) Page 45