"Good. Now, when you feel powerful enough I want you to picture your father standing right next to you. Once you have his image nice and clear in your mind, go towards him. See him back away from your approach. See his fear. I want you to get right up in his face, nose to nose, and tell him to get lost."
Determination hardened Rosemary's face and I knew she was doing exactly as I asked. Within seconds a smile broke out, transforming her whole appearance. "He's running away." Rosemary pulled her hand from mine and clasped hers together in excitement. "He's leaving, Tess!"
The door swung open and crashed into the wall, shaking the cabin and rattling all the windows. A second later the porch boards creaked as if enduring a great weight.
"Wonderful, Rosemary. Now imagine yourself chasing after him. Tell him to never come back. See his respect for you and the understanding that he no longer has any power over you!" I gave her a hug though she was so focused on her internal imagery that I don't think she even noticed. But I was just so excited to see her taking control. "He now sees how strong you are and he will not come back." I put my mouth to her ear and hoped she heard me. "Tell him to stay away from your mother too. Let him know that if he bothers her again, he'll have to deal with you."
Rosemary's smile grew wide with triumph. "He isn't so big anymore. He is just this small pathetic thing and he's a coward. A low-life scum." Her voice rose to a shout. "He's nothing." She drew herself up, standing straighter, looking stronger than I've seen her since landing on the island. Her eyes opened, searched for me then clung with hope blazing bright within them. "Do you really think he's gone for good?"
"Yes. He had to see that you are not scared of him anymore. Your fear kept him near, drew him to you. He liked how powerful it made him feel. But you took that power away from him. He won't be back, Rosemary. I promise you."
Rosemary nodded, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good." She picked up the fallen chair, pushed it back under the table then squaring her shoulders with confidence, she walked to the front door and closed it. "Good riddance." She wiped her hands in a manner that told me she was quite done with that bit of unpleasantness and giving me a decisive nod, she walked over to the end table and picked it up from the floor. "Now let's talk to mama."
Was it really going to be this easy to deal with Rosemary's spirit problem? From the back of my mind came a very distinctive warning not to celebrate just yet.
Keeping a close eye on Rosemary's facial expression, I sat down in my chair and put my hands on the table. Rosemary did the same, giving me a nod to continue.
"Okay then. Now we'll ask your mama what she wants." And then out of curiosity I had to ask. "What is your mother's name?"
"Angie."
Was she the Angel whom Grace mentioned earlier? Was Angie a nickname for Angel? No, she couldn't be. Grace had said maybe it was Angel all grown up.
Deciding to give all my questions a rest for now, I closed my eyes and began the process of clearing my mind. Once my body was again in a relaxed state, I drew in another deep, calming breath, picturing Rosemary and me bathed in light. I figured it was better to continue with this defense since I wasn't sure what could happen next. Taking it a step further, I imagined myself drawing the light deep into my lungs, infusing my blood with spiritual energy. Feeling a little high on this vivid imagery, I opened my eyes and found Rosemary watching me with interest. For some reason I felt a fissure of unease ripple through me. Why I was suddenly uncomfortable I couldn't say. But I was and that put me on alert.
"Okay, let's see if we still have your mama." Hoping to refocus Rosemary to the table, I nodded toward it and rubbed my fingers lightly across its surface. "Are you here, Angie?"
The table immediately tipped once in Rosemary's direction.
I looked at Rosemary and hoped my next question wouldn't upset her but I felt I should ask it. "What was your father's name?"
Rosemary's eyes narrowed with contempt. "Roland."
"Angie, was Roland bothering you?"
The table tipped once.
"Is he gone now?"
Again the table tipped once.
"Are you proud of your daughter for sending him away?"
The table tipped to Rosemary, resting against her legs and staying there despite my attempts to push it back down. It did this earlier and now I realized why. "She's hugging you, Rosemary. That's how the spirits we are talking to offer us affection. They press the table against us."
Rosemary's eyes filled with tears and welled over. "Oh dear. Oh, mama. I love you too." She rubbed her hands along the surface of the table and gave a wobbly smile as her tears continued to fall. "I miss you."
It was an emotional moment for me too and I remained quiet while I let Rosemary and her mother commune with each other. After a moment the table lowered slowly, gently to the floor.
"Do you have a message for Rosemary? Can you spell it out for us? What is the first letter of the first word?"
At first the table didn't move but then it began to tip toward me three times in succession, stopping on the letter "c". I looked at Rosemary to ensure she understood how it worked. "It tipped three times and that brings us to the letter 'c'." Rosemary nodded that she understood. "Okay, what's the next letter?"
Eventually we had three words. Come to me. The energy in the air calmed to a light chill and I knew Angie would be saying no more.
"What does she mean?" Rosemary raised her eyes to mine looking slightly alarmed. "How am I supposed to do that? She's dead." And then her eyes widened and she stood up. "She wants me dead?"
I stood as well and ran my hands through my hair, not liking moments like this when I didn't understand what the spirit world was trying to say. "I'm sure that can't be what she meant."
"How can I go to her then?"
"Perhaps her grave?"
"She was cremated. My father threw her ashes over the lake." Rosemary turned her eyes toward the window. "She's everywhere now."
Another shiver ran through me but this time it wasn't from spiritual activity. It was truly beginning to get cold in the cabin. And dark.
With a sense of dread trilling through me, I ran to the door and yanked it open. Concern flared to alarm as I noted how the sun was now completely blocked by gathering clouds and a fog was beginning to set in. I turned to Rosemary, waving a hand toward the lake as I did so. "I need to go, Rosemary. I need to get back before the fog worsens."
"Can't you stay with me?" Rosemary came forward and plucked at my arm. "Please?"
"I'm sorry, Rosemary, but I have animals at home. I really need to get back. But I'll come see you again tomorrow. Okay?"
Nodding with obvious reluctance, Rosemary pulled her sweater tighter around her. "I'll walk with you to the wharf."
I eyed the thickening clouds as we rushed across the lawn and felt pretty sure I could make it back even though the water was already beginning to get rough. Paddling through it wasn't going to be easy but it wasn't unmanageable. Not yet. And then it didn't matter anymore.
My kayak was gone!
Chapter Three
"Oh no!" I broke into a run and began a frantic search of the area. It was bright yellow, there was no way I could miss seeing it. But I saw it nowhere. A scan over the water revealed nothing but a pair of ducks. The bushes didn't turn up anything either.
I turned to Rosemary who was wringing her hands in dismay and concern but doing nothing to help me locate my one and only transport off this island. "Have you any idea what could have happened to it, Rosemary?"
"The spirits took it. They want you to stay."
Although there was a chance she could be stating the truth, I didn't want to accept that. "It has to be here somewhere." I started off in a search around the parameter of the island and after a moment's hesitation, Rosemary followed.
"You know, my dear, most of the shoreline is nonexistent. The small beach in front of my house is the only accessible spot on the whole island."
We climbed over fallen trees, skirted
boulders and pushed our way through a thick growth of brambles and brush until we were both panting from the exertion. By the time we made it back to the cabin, I was quite winded. Even so, I was too wound up to be tired. My body thrummed with energy. Adrenaline surely. I even flirted with the idea of swimming to shore but I knew I wouldn't make it. Besides the water was freezing cold. Much as I hated the idea of being stranded here, I hated it even more the thought of drowning. I had too much to live for.
"Dang it all to freakin' hell!" Although I'd managed to maintain a grip on my temper most of the time, there were instances, like now, when I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw a tantrum. A useless endeavor for it would solve nothing but still, I had all these swirling emotions roiling around within me and no outlet for them.
"I'm sorry, Tess."
It was Rosemary's voice that ended up calming me. No doubt she felt pretty bad about the situation and my temper tantrum wasn't going to make her feel any better. She'd been through enough. I should know better than to put her through any more. Heaving a resigned sigh, I scrubbed my face with my hands and turned toward her. "It's not your fault, Rosemary. I don't suppose you have a boat hidden anywhere?"
Rosemary shook her head. "Grace will be here tomorrow. I'm sure she'll take you to shore. But unless someone happens by, I'm afraid you are stuck here with me."
Not expecting any change from the last time I looked, I pulled my dead cell phone from my pocket. Once again I tried turning it on. Nothing. Taking the battery out and putting it back in didn't help either.
God, I sure hope Kade doesn't get frantic about this. Chasing that thought were images of Alex and Dennis. Their food and water dishes were full when I left and Kade had installed a doggy-door at the back of the house because we both got tired of constantly letting them in and out. So at least they could go out to do their business. My biggest concern was that they might run off during my absence. What if they came looking for me and got lost? My stomach clenched at the idea of them wandering out to the main road. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to them.
"Tess?"
I put my cell phone back in my pocket and fell in behind Rosemary as she headed for the cabin. "I guess you have a guest for the night, Rosemary."
"It will be fine, Tess. I made a chicken pot pie earlier. All I need to do is pop it in the oven."
We walked up the steps together and entered the cabin. The quiet was almost deafening. I didn't mind the fact that there was no television, but what were we going to do all evening? Especially when it got dark?
"I usually go to bed early. I sleep and rise right along with the sun. I do have oil for the lamps but I don't much like sitting around when it's dark outside." She looked so uneasy at my reaction to this situation that I finally let my annoyance and concerns go and smiled at her.
"I love chicken pot pie and we shall have a nice evening getting better acquainted." Maybe I'd find out about Angel and a little more about her husband. Though her father's spirit was gone, he wasn't the only one hanging around. If we could figure out who the rest of them were and what they wanted, I just might be able to help Rosemary with all her ghostly troubles.
My goal, which had started forming almost from the moment I landed here, was to get Rosemary in a place where she could leave this island and join the world of the living. She shouldn't be stuck here alone for so long. It just wasn't right.
Rosemary went to the kitchen and I headed for the wood stove. It was getting cold in the cabin and that would only increase as the night wore on if we didn't do something about it. "How about I stoke up the wood stove?"
"Good idea, Tess. Thank you."
A small cubby built in the corner against the dividing wall to the bedroom held enough firewood to get us through the evening. I managed to get the stove going without any trouble and heat was soon filtering into the room. Yet I felt cold seeping through my body making me shiver. Trepidation bloomed in my chest and before I could even wonder what might be causing it, a wave of nausea hit me. It was so sudden and so strong that I stumbled in response and fell into the easy chair behind me. Hoping Rosemary didn't notice what was going on, I closed my eyes and did my best to breathe through it. Sucking in a long draught of air through my nose, I focused on easing the urge to start heaving. What now? A psychic attack?
"You okay, dear?"
Although the sickly feeling still quivered in my stomach, I was pretty sure the urge to spew forth all of Rosemary's tea had passed. Sweat broke out on my forehead and I wiped at it with my hand, noting as I did so that I was shaking. Maybe I was just reacting to my concern. After all, I had a lot to worry about right now. My animals, Kade, Rosemary, the fact I had to stay overnight in a cabin full of dead people. "Not feeling totally great but nothing to worry about, Rosemary."
"I'm so sorry about your boat."
It was a kayak but why quibble? "Just so long as you aren't upset at having me intrude on your privacy, it really is fine." No need to share my concerns with her about Kade's reaction to my continued silence and my animals' welfare in my continued absence.
Rosemary sank into her rocking chair and picked up her crochet work. "I am happy for the company."
I watched her in silence and then finally spoke up, saying the first thing that came to mind. "What are you making?"
"A doily for the table we were using to talk to mama."
"How do you feel about what happened today, Rosemary?"
"I feel fine. My father is gone and that's a good thing indeed. I hated the idea of him following my mother around, bothering her spirit."
"You said you don't believe in God but you believe in life after death? I mean, you must believe in that if you believe in ghosts."
"Must I believe in God in order to believe we live on after we die?" Rosemary looked so distressed by the idea that I hastened to reassure her.
"I'm just trying to figure out what it is you believe, Rosemary. That's all."
"When I was really small, before mama died, I used to believe in God. I believed because mama did and she was always praying, always going to church. She prayed for my father to stop being mean. She prayed for him to stop drinking. She prayed for her life to get better. And then she got sick and died. My father drank even more and got meaner. What kind of God does that?"
"I know it doesn't always make sense..."
"But it does if God does not exist. We are on our own, Tess. We make it in the world without any help from a heavenly being. And when we die and go to wherever it is that we end up, we are still on our own." Her mouth compressed for a moment and then she went on in a voice tight with lingering fury. "Until we got rid of him today, my father was still terrorizing my mama even in her death!" She met my eyes and I saw a light in them now that I hadn't seen before. Hope. "What kind of God would allow that to happen? Only now it doesn't matter. Thanks to you, I understand about power and how to use it. What do I need God for? In fact, if mama had known this, she wouldn't have wasted all her time praying."
Heaving a silent sigh, I decided it best not to argue the point. But I did want her to understand how she managed to do what she did today. "You must accept that there is some sort of force, something, that gives us existence and thus the energy needed to conduct life? This force, if that's what you'd rather call it, activates when stirred into action."
"I can accept that there might be a force of some sort that helps sustain life but I don't understand what you mean by activating it into action."
How to explain a concept that was actually so simple it was difficult to understand? "Okay. If there's a force that brings all things into being and keeps us in existence then you can accept that this force is a kind of energy, right?" At Rosemary's agreeable nod, I smiled in elation that perhaps we were getting somewhere. "Great. So, this energy becomes active ... makes things happen ... when we perform an action to initiate it. For instance, asking for something initiates the energy into action. But, it isn't enough to just ask. You must then act as if it's happene
d, believe the request is granted. And those actions ... acting like it's happened or believing it will ... fuels the energy required to bring about what you want."
I could see she was thinking it all over in her head and since her eyes weren't clouded with confusion, I was hopeful she was now trying to apply her new understanding to her present situation. To help her along, I used her recent victory as an example.
"When you imagined yourself growing stronger and bigger, that activated your personal energy, making you stronger and bigger. And when you chased off your father, that fueled the energy needed to bring about your desired intention ... getting rid of your father." And then, because I couldn't resist saying it, "I'm sure you've heard of the saying that 'God helps those who help themselves'? Well, you can substitute God with force and you can now understand what that saying truly means. You can't just ask for help, you have to give power to the request by doing something to help it along. Once you felt the energy within you, Rosemary, you believed in it and taadaaa, you had success!"
Rosemary stood up and headed for the kitchen. "I think I need some more tea. We will discuss this no further." But then, as if a sudden thought occurred to her, she stopped mid-stride and turned to face me. "You are suggesting, then, that it's my mama's fault that she couldn't prevent my father's abuse. But I tell you, she prayed and believed and it didn't do her a bit of good." Her voice rose steadily along with her anger and I stood to meet it head on. "You suggest that I could have stopped him and I assure you, much as I fought him, much as I imagined him dead, I could not stop it!"
I blundered terribly in my explanation and could only hope she would let me try and fix the mistake. "I didn't mean it that way, Rosemary! Honestly. I have no doubt that your mother tried to stand up to him and that you fought..." here I had to stop for a moment because it sickened me to think what she went through as a child. "I do not doubt for a second that you fought him. I didn't mean to suggest otherwise." I took a step toward her and held out a hand in entreaty. "I meant we must learn how to raise our power from here," I pressed a fist to my chest. "Once we grow strong in our heart, in our mind, then we grow strong in spirit like we did today when you fought off your father. You didn't do it physically, Rosemary. You fought him with the strength of power you have within you."
Rosemary's Ghosts (Tess Schafer-Medium) Page 6