The Ghosts of Oakleigh House
Gulf Coast Paranormal Series
Book Thirteen
By M.L. Bullock
Text copyright © 2019 Monica L. Bullock
All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Dedication
Thank you, Sheila Anne Jones. You were the perfect Lady in Black.
Midas sends his love.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to the wonderful folks at the Oakleigh Historic Home for the lovely tour. Thank you to the citizens of Mobile for continuing to support and care for this beautiful landmark and important piece of history. Thanks also to all of you for sharing your ghost stories with me. May they continue to haunt our memories and may we never forget them.
Chapter One—Artemis Brown
Dark shadows passed over Artemis’ shoulder but he assumed they were cast by birds flying overhead. Big birds, like…well, he wasn’t sure what kind of birds, but that had to be it. What else would be fluttering around up here? As far as he knew there were no flying squirrels occupying downtown Mobile. And these shadows were too big to be bumblebees or any other type of large bug, thankfully. Artemis had a strong aversion to insects. And spiders. Yeah, hands down spiders were worse. Luckily spiders don’t fly through the air or cause big shadows.
Man, I hate spiders.
Art held his breath as he clung to the aluminum ladder and waited for his heart to stop pounding in his chest. What made him think he could do this? He was no professional painter—he couldn’t even draw a straight line. He had never been much of a handyman either. His mother had been nagging him for a week to change the air filter in their home’s air conditioning unit.
Yeah, geesh. I’ve got to take care of that. Seriously though. How hard is it to open the panel and replace a filter?
He would do it when he got home, but he had to finish this up first. He had a long list to take care of and there wasn’t any other help. Not for this kind of work. Artemis was all that Oakleigh had until Cameron came back. If he came back at all.
Nope. I’m not going to think like that.
The poor old man had a heart attack on the front lawn just two weeks ago. Cameron hadn’t been sick a day, not during Artemis’ tenure here. And he never took a day off. When the rest of the staff had the flu last year Oakleigh’s oldest volunteer kept right on going. Even Artemis, who was considerably younger than Cameron, had the wind taken out of his sails by the event. It had been a shock to find Cam sprawled out face first on the thick green grass of the front lawn. Old Cam had been incoherent when the EMTs arrived and still to this day no one knew what had happened to him except the fact that he’d had a cardiac event. This was how his mother described it to him later.
Artemis’ mother hadn’t been surprised. She lived in fear of having a heart attack or a stroke or a brain aneurysm. These weren’t usually things that Artemis worried about or thought about. He easily tuned her out when she began describing her ailments over dinner. But Cameron’s heart attack shook him. If someone like Cameron could nearly keel over from a heart attack, anyone could.
Artemis heard all about his mother’s near misses with death and had been hearing about them since he was small. She was a true-blue hypochondriac, but Cameron? Never sick. Never.
Sometimes heart attacks just hit you, Artie. You are just going along with your life, minding your own business and then wham! You’re having a cardiac event and next thing you know--you are dead. I hate to say it but Cameron is on borrowed time. Yep, it is just a matter of time.
Mom, don’t say things like that. No way did I think she hated to say it. She loved sharing her observations and his protests had not made things better. Eventually, Artemis gave up trying.
At least Cameron was going to make it. That’s what Lucy said. Cameron would make it and all would be well. That’s what she told him and he preferred to believe Lucy over his mother. But why? Why had it happened? That was the million-dollar question. Nobody else seemed to be asking that question, but he did. He had to know. Needed to understand. There were only four full time volunteers at Oakleigh, although they frequently had teenagers, students that helped out with tours and such. Lucy, Cameron, Ally, and Artemis were the team dedicated to the care of the treasured Mobile landmark. With Ally going for her master’s degree she wasn’t around so much anymore. Or so she said. Artemis believed that she was plum frightened. He missed her. They had become good friends, for a time, over the years.
Could Cameron’s episode have anything to do with the change in the atmosphere inside the house? Could the two be related? Artemis hated being alone in the house at night. He felt so unwanted, he thought as he slapped more paint on the wood. The Lady in Black he could live with. She rarely appeared nowadays and when she did, it was always brief, albeit far too close. Artemis shivered at the memory of his first sighting. He only ever saw her from the back. Her black dress appeared tightly tied and cinched at her impossibly tiny waist. Artemis could never see her face and that bothered him. But she had been quite real. Her shiny black hair and lightning speed gave her an even more otherworldly appearance.
Put her out of your mind, Artemis. Stay focused.
Yes, that patch job would have to do until Cameron got back. He’d probably find fault with it but the place needed to look tip-top if they expected to impress the donors. They’d be here next week.
As long as they didn’t ask for a night tour all would be fine.
Oakleigh after dark was not such a pleasant place. Not to Artemis. It’s not like he intentionally aggravated whatever or whoever wandered the halls at night. But, somehow he knew he wasn’t wanted. He knew his presence was upsetting to someone. He could feel that. However, Artemis had to man the gift shop until all the guests left and then mind the paperwork and turn off all the lights. That was part of his job now, especially since Lucy worked nights at her bake shop and Cameron was temporarily out of the picture.
Yes, he’d always experienced things here at Oakleigh House. He’d always believed that he wasn’t alone at Oakleigh and he liked that. Feeling connected with the past had been a part of the reason why he studied history, specifically Mobile’s history. And it’s why he came here to begin with.
Whatever life lingered here at the beginning had been harmless. Kind of curious. He wasn’t even sure if it had been aware of him. Oh, but it was aware of him now.
Could it have anything to do with his experiment? He and Ally had only tried to connect with the dead a few times. It had been a horrid experience. Not at all what he expected.
He would never forget seeing the face staring back at him from the wall the day after their harebrained séance. Inadvertently made contact with another being--not the Lady in the Black. No, it wasn’t a lady at all. It wasn’t feminine but certainly male. A man with black hair that covered most of his face and from what he could see of the face it appeared almost animalistic.
From the damn wall! A face poking out like it was a three-dimensional portrait.
Not just once but multiple times. He felt a lump in his throat as he swallowed at the thought. He barely noticed it when it slid back into the wall and vanished. As if the being changed its mind about appearing to him. It was playing games with him—he felt that in his gut. It was ducking in and out of walls and closet doors. Artemis hated the memory. He had to have been dreaming or halluc
inating! Could one have hallucination flashbacks from prior drug use? He had smoked marijuana a few times in his younger days?
Suddenly, the ladder trembled beneath him.
Don’t look down, Artemis. It’s the worst thing you can do. Steady yourself! Don’t look down. Keep going. You’re almost done. Do this for Cameron!
He dug his brush into the nearly empty paint can and continued smattering the side of the historic home with his worn paintbrush. The ladder settled beneath him. He’d been shaking it because he was so focused on getting the paintwork completed. Didn’t even realize that he was about to topple over.
Yeah, that should do it. At least for the time being. Until we can hire professionals to do a proper job.
In the meantime, his handiwork would have to do.
It seemed a shame that they were in this position. After all the history, after all that Oakleigh had meant to Mobile to have to beg for funding for a simple paint job. They couldn’t even get that. It was shameful, really. But Artemis Brown loved every inch of the house and all the Oakleigh District for that matter. He would do what he had to do to keep the doors open. This place was more than a time capsule to him. More than an old home and a nod to some painful history.
People had actually lived here—were born and died here. Many people. They should be remembered with love and honor. All colors, black and white. How can we learn from history if we destroy every semblance of it?
Oakleigh was like his second home and he loved coming to work each day. His mother didn’t understand his devotion to Oakleigh, nor could he explain it to her beyond what he had attempted already.
Artemis knew her thinking. She’d shared her opinions more times than he could count. Guys his age should be thinking about girls and cars and how to get the girls into the cars. He should be going on dates and getting married and having loads of grandkids who she could smother with her “love.” Guys his age shouldn’t be obsessed with musty old places like Oakleigh. That’s what his mother believed but he didn’t let that deter him. Artemis could not adequately explain why he felt so drawn to this place. So absolutely connected to it.
It was his home away from home. Until recently.
The shadow passed over his shoulder again and he couldn’t help but glance behind him. He had the feeling of being cramped, being harassed by this bird. Yeah, he could feel the wind pass behind him. Cold air swirled around him and this wasn’t a cold day. Not at all. It must be eighty degrees out. Artemis was ten feet up and uncomfortable with moving around too much. Luckily, he was out of paint and it was time to wash up and go home.
Time to get down from here and tidy up.
That’s when the ladder began moving beneath him. Left and right; left and right. Teetering slightly at first and then faster. Artemis clutched the sides of the aluminum ladder and let out a scream of surprise and glanced beneath him and saw shadows fluttering back and forth along the ground. Small shadows about the size of cats.
What are those things? Those aren’t cats. There are no cats around here.
The shadows undulated and moved together like the waves of an ocean. The shapes weren’t solid, they were moving, blurring and shifting. He could barely believe his own eyes.
“Hey! Someone! Lucy!” Art called as the paint bucket tumbled to the ground. And he would fall to the ground too if the thing beneath him continued to torment him.
Shadows. Shadows everywhere.
“Lucy! Hey! Help me!” The ladder began to tilt and Artemis began to fall. He could hear the shadows now. They had ganged up against him and he could hear them laughing at him. Laughing at their handiwork. They were certainly trying to kill him.
They wanted him dead, dead, dead.
In fact, Artemis could hear the many voices saying the word in unison.
Dead, dead, dead.
“No!” He shouted, as the ladder slowly fell. He could see the thick green hedges coming up fast to meet him.
Dead, dead, dead.
The shadows scattered over him as he fell. He first hit the hedges, and then the ground. At least he wouldn’t die. The hedges had broken his fall but he had such pain in his arm and leg. As their cold fingers touched his skin he screamed. From the pain, from fear, in defiance, he couldn’t be sure, but he screamed with all his might.
He was crying when Lucy found him.
Chapter Two—Midas
“Midas. Over here,” Lucy called to me from the corner of the waiting room. “Thanks for coming. It seems crazy to ask you to come down here for this. Can this really be happening?”
It had been years since I’d seen Lucy Bailey but I would recognize her anywhere. She was a petite woman with a round, friendly face minus her usual sunny smile. She unfolded her arms and extended her hands warmly as I approached. I didn’t notice until this very moment, but she kind of favored my ex-girlfriend, Sara Strawbridge. Lucy didn’t have light red hair but their features, their movements--they were so much the same.
Maybe Little Sister had been right all along. I did have a type. Whatever. I loved Cassidy and Sara was my past. Lucy had been the one that got away. Lucy Bailey was an old crush turned friend and Sara Strawbridge my ex turned mortal enemy. My future, that’s what I was thinking about this afternoon. Yeah, I would be a married man in a few months and unlike some guys that might dread the process, I couldn’t wait. A door to my past would be shut and a new one would be opened.
When I got close enough I could see that Lucy had been crying.
Okay, she’s genuinely worried. This is a serious situation. Was the paranormal activity at Oakleigh so bad that she needed my help?
Lucy was five years my senior. I knew that because I’d done the math more times than I can remember. Okay, if I had to count, at least a hundred times, but that was when I was a kid. Back in the day, those couple of years might as well have been a lifetime. I had kept my hard crush on Lucy Bailey a secret from everyone.
Except for Lucy.
One afternoon on the bus, when we were alone once again; we were always the last two teens to depart I told her everything. I told her that she should be my girlfriend and that I loved her. Lucy did not laugh in my face or make fun of me but the answer was no. She tried to let me down easy, but that rejection hurt for a long time. But then again, when you are thirteen every rejection felt like it was the end of the world. Her refusal to write her name on my notebook did not take my love away but eventually, when girls my own age began crushing on me, I forgot about her.
Mostly.
“You know I will help if I can, Lucy. I am sorry to hear about your co-worker. Is he going to be okay?”
In a surge of emotion, Lucy Bailey hugged me.
“It’s going to be alright, my friend. Tell me what’s going on at Oakleigh. What happened to Artemis?” We took a seat by the door so she could watch the hospital staff moving up and down the hallway. They would come with word about him any minutes, she relayed to me.
“Artemis broke his leg, the ladder came out from under him, but it could have been so much worse, Midas. I know it could have been much worse. We are so very lucky to have him around. But the truth is Artemis has been nervous about the house for a while. He’s convinced that there is something in Oakleigh House and that something evil did this. He says... he says faces, a monster’s face, with black hair; it just appears and then vanishes in the walls. And now these shadows knocked him off the ladder. Again, that’s what he says. I don’t know if it's true or not, but things have gotten uncomfortable. That’s not an exaggeration of any sort.”
“I don’t think you are exaggerating at all. I know you, Lucy. Remember? Tell me what happened. I swear it will not be the first strange thing I have heard. I will believe you.”
Lucy breathed a sigh of relief at my pledge to take her claims seriously. “Well, Cameron, he’s another volunteer... an older gentleman. He’s been at Oakleigh since before I arrived and that’s been forever ago. I’m mentioning him because Artemis isn’t the first person to get hurt. M
aybe if it was I could write it off, but I can’t. Anyway, Cameron had a heart attack on the front lawn not two weeks ago. I can’t help but wonder if all this is tied to what’s happening in the house. Things have been heavy, for lack of a better word, and it’s getting worse.” Lucy tapped under her eyes with her finger to dab off the moisture that appeared. I dug in my pocket for a handkerchief, but I rarely carried one anymore. She turned away from me as she tidied her face.
I recalled her phone call just two days ago.
Things are bad, Midas. I can hardly breathe in here. It’s oppressive. Very oppressive and my skin…I have these weird rashes and scratches. I’m clumsy, but not that clumsy. I have scratches in places where there shouldn’t be scratches. I heard you deal with this sort of thing. Did I hear wrong?
That had been Lucy’s phone confession when she called. Before Artemis fell and before she told me about Cameron. I felt a little guilty about dragging my feet about seeing her.
Not the time to be selfish, Midas. Good job, dude.
I had never known Lucy to be someone who spooked easily or imagined things. I glanced around at the folks hanging out in the waiting room. This wasn’t the best place to chat about stuff, but I followed Lucy’s lead. She was sitting beside me now.
“I’m glad you called, Lucy. It’s my practice to go into these investigations with an open mind, and I will do that. I promise. Can you give me more details about Artemis and tell me about what happened to Cameron?” Dealing with the unknown, paranormal or otherwise, can be terrifying but staying calm and thinking helped one cope. “Tell me whatever details you can remember. Don’t leave anything out.” She didn’t know it but I was attempting to distract her. Taking her mind off her fears would help Lucy focus.
“Alright. There’s a lot. You should know that Cameron isn’t making any claims about the paranormal. He’s kind of old school in that way. Even if he did see something he wouldn’t tell me about it. He’s a force of nature. He’s like a father to me, Midas. He called me about a month ago to let me know something was wrong at the house. The front doors were left open, standing wide open. Both the front and back doors. It’s a wonder we weren’t robbed, but nobody took a thing. Not a thing. Only thing is that all the furniture was moved around. Well, not all of it, but the heavy stuff. The china cabinet, the dining room table, the couches. They were shoved into the center of the rooms. Not just downstairs, but upstairs too. But still, he thought it had to be vandals. My question to him was, who would break into Oakleigh and move the furniture around?”
The Ghosts of Oakleigh House (Gulf Coast Paranormal Book 13) Page 1