Rosemary's Ghosts (Tess Schafer-Medium)

by Deborah J. Hughes

  My fear.

  Deep down I was afraid of what she would tell me. Even after facing everything I had to face at my house when I first moved into it, this situation was more terrifying than that. If I could conquer my fear of an evil entity, surely I could conquer my fear of this situation. How bad could it be after all?

  "Here you are, Tess." Rosemary handed me a plate of toast lavishly spread with melting butter and a cup of steaming hot coffee. I accepted her offering gratefully, enjoying the warmth of the mug and the smell of freshly toasted bread. Could I enjoy all these sensations if I was dead? It would explain why my cell phone was not working. It was as dead as me. But if I was dead ... what about Rosemary?

  The blood began draining from my face. What if Rosemary was the more gifted between us and she was seeing my spirit? But what about Grace? A splitting pain raced through my head.

  Rosemary had just settled in her chair and was about to take a sip of her coffee when she saw the distress on my face and leaned forward in her chair, her face scrunched in worry. "What is it, Tess?"

  "I have a headache." But it was more than that and I didn't know how much to confide in her. If only I could figure out what was going on.

  "I've some herbs that will help with that."

  "Herbs?" I looked at Rosemary with interest. "You know about herbal remedies?"

  Rosemary laughed softly, amused, it seemed, by my surprise. "From my grandmother. She used to have the best herbal garden. She made all her own teas and knew what herbs to use to treat just about anything." Her gaze turned away and went inward as she continued to talk. "Mama knew some of them but she didn't know as much as Gramma."

  As if the memories were making her restless, Rosemary stood and paced around her chair, her hands clasping and unclasping as she spoke. "I loved it when we visited my grandparents because they were always showing me things, teaching me stuff. They were the nicest people in the world and I loved them very much." She stopped to gaze out the window toward the wharf, smiling in remembrance. "Some of my most cherished memories are of my visits here. We had picnics on the lawn and I would swim in the water while Grampa took his boat out fishing. Gramma planted herb gardens all around the cabin and I used to help her take care of them. In fact, I think I remember her planting those mugwort plants."

  Rosemary's affinity to the island was understandable. For her, this truly was a retreat from the horrors she endured at home. But withdrawing from the rest of the world ... was that healthy for her? No, not for the length of time she'd exiled herself anyway. It was probably why she was being haunted. Those who loved her in spirit were concerned about her. They wanted her off this island as much as I wanted off it.

  "After mama died, I was forbidden to see my grandparents and my father wouldn't let me come to the island either." She turned away from the window and returned to her chair. "The day he died, I came here. Of course, my grandparents were gone by then."

  "But you went back."

  Rosemary nodded. "Yes, I was only fourteen at the time so I was placed in foster care with a large family. I wasn't comfortable there. I wasn't used to being around a lot of people like that." Her mouth pursed as the memories flooded her mind. "One of the boys there liked what he saw and craving affection, I welcomed what he offered." She gave a snort of derision. "I'm pretty sure there was no affection involved on his part. Of course the family blamed me and so I was sent to another family of all girls. But they didn't like me and I didn't like them. So I ran away. It was a relentless pattern and when I got pregnant with Grace, I was sent to a home for unwed mothers." Rosemary gave a short bark of laughter. "If only I'd known that my grandparents had left everything to me."

  I remember Rosemary telling me earlier that her grandparents put their properties in a trust, ensuring she couldn't inherit free and clear until her twenty-first birthday. How could they have known she would need a home before then?

  Her expression sad, Rosemary shook her head, her next words reflecting my own thoughts. "There I was bouncing place to place looking for a home and here I had one the whole time!" Her eyes closed as she continued with her trip down memory lane. "I made do with Grace but we lived in squalor until the day I was summoned to the lawyer's office in town. I thought I was in trouble again so it was a complete shock to discover I not only owned a house but an island!"

  It wasn't just Rosemary, her mother, or Grace who suffered in this story. Her grandparents hadn't fared any better. How hard it must have been for them to first lose their daughter to a monster and then their granddaughter as well. Only it didn't stop there. Rosemary ended up marrying another monster, putting her own daughter in a situation similar to the one she endured. What a horrible karmic circle this poor family endured. How were we to break it?

  My heart was skipping so painfully at this point that I winced. Rosemary didn't see my reaction for she was staring off into space, her thoughts obviously very deep and reflective. The fact I was reacting so strongly to that last thought told me I had pretty much hit the proverbial nail right on the head. I was here to help Rosemary break the negative karmic circle of her family line. But how?

  "So you and Grace lived in your grandparents' home when you turned twenty-one? Did you move out when you married?"

  "No." Rosemary's mouth twisted in nearly a sneer. "I think that was the appeal for him. He liked that I came with a house and property."

  "So Grace is still living there?"

  Rosemary nodded, her eyes narrowing with a satisfied gleam. "All that is mine now belongs to Grace. She does not need a man to take care of her."

  "Where is this house where Grace lives?" Why was my heart pounding so hard? It was messing with my breathing, making me take deep breaths to try and calm it down.

  Rosemary passed a hand across her eyes, rubbing away her memories, and stood up. "I should make you that herbal tea for your headache but I just want to run down to the wharf real quick and check for Grace first. I'll be right back." She fled the room before I could even tell her that my headache was now gone.

  "Go look in the box."

  The voice that whispered in my ear didn't scare me this time. I almost expected it. Without giving any thought to how wrong it was to search through someone's things, I jumped up and hurried to Rosemary's room, pulling the closet door open before I could convince myself to stop.

  The box beckoned and I knew I had little time. As if operating on automatic pilot, I knelt down, pulled the box forward and opened it. The smell of musty old paper assaulted my nose. The box was crammed full of papers. Important documents, certainly, but also old newspapers. One lay folded across the top and I picked it up. The Bangor Daily News. It was one of the most popular newspapers for the area. The date on it was hard to read for it was quite faded but it looked like it was nineteen seventy something. The last number was too faded to read. Why was Rosemary keeping this old paper? I scanned the headlines and the one near the bottom of the page caught my eye.

  Wife and Daughter Suspect in Man's Death

  I read the headline with a pounding heart for I knew, just knew, the wife and daughter were Rosemary and Grace.

  Rosemary reentered the house and I froze, fearing discovery, but she must have thought I was in the bathroom because she went straight to the kitchen. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, I figured the bathroom was the best place to be and took the newspaper with me, taking care to close the closet door in case Rosemary came in to check on me. Though I felt guilty for snooping in her things, I also felt I had no choice. I had to do this. I had to know what she wasn't telling me. Maybe it would help me help her. Besides, the deed was done so I might as well make use of it.

  Aware my time was limited, I quickly scanned the article.

  "Years of alleged abuse culminated in the death of Carl Harris of Bucksport, Maine. A 911 call from the Harris residence late Friday night had emergency personnel responding to a disturbing scene of domestic violence, one in which town residents claim was not unexpected. Harris died from a stab wound
to the heart. Rosemary Harris, the victim's wife, claimed responsibility but reports state her daughter, whose name is being withheld due to her age, was covered in the victim's blood. She was a step-daughter to Carl Harris. No other children were born to the couple. Both Mrs. Harris and her daughter suffered injuries they claim Harris inflicted on them, further stating he was killed in self-defense. The investigation is ongoing..."

  Although there was more to the article, I heard Rosemary approaching and hastily folded the paper, setting it aside. I didn't expect her to open the curtain and catch me red-handed but even so, I held my breath as she entered the room.

  "Tess?"

  "I'm in here, Rosemary."

  "I just wanted to be sure you are okay."

  "I'm fine. I'll be right out." I heard her leave the room and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. When the rocking chair started creaking, indicating Rosemary was once again in her usual seat, I tip-toed to the closet, opened the door and set the newspaper on top of the box. Hopefully I'd have a chance later to put it away, covering up proof of my snooping. To further explain my prolonged presence in Rosemary's room, I changed out of the pajamas and into my clothes. A hairbrush was lying on Rosemary's dresser and I hoped she didn't mind my using it to put my tangled mop back into reasonable order. A toothbrush would be great too but I didn't expect she would have an extra one to spare. Too bad, that.

  Praying guilt wasn't stamped all over my face, I breezed into the living room as if I hadn't a care in the world then nearly blew it by over-playing my sudden cheerfulness. Rosemary tossed me a curious glance when I bounced down on the sofa so I lifted a hand to my head, hoping to explain my uplifted mood. "My headache is a little better but I'd still like a cup of that tea."

  Rosemary continued to stare with a strange look on her face and my heart skipped in response. Did she know? My cheeks stinging with the heat of embarrassment, I jumped up and headed for the kitchen. It wasn't like me to snoop around in other people's things. No matter how much I wanted to justify such behavior, it was still wrong.

  What looked like baby food jars were lined up on the butcher block. All of them were filled with dried herbs. Rosemary walked around me, pointing to them. "Lemon balm, feverfew, vervain and peppermint. All grown here on the island. They are good for headaches." The look she gave me now was filled with nothing but sympathy, making me feel bad for letting her continue to believe my head was still aching.

  "These are the ones I know most about as my mama suffered headaches a lot." Her eyes narrowed with bitterness. "Probably from all the stress she endured. Not to mention the many knocks upside the head." She brushed off my hand with a wave of her own. "Nothing to be done for it now so let's just focus on you."

  She grabbed a small stone mortar and pestle from the shelf above the cupboard behind her and set them on the counter. "The thing is to blend the herbs well." She opened the jars, taking a pinch from each one and tossing them into the mortar. "My Gramma and my mother always let me do this part ... at least for a little bit." She firmly ground the herbs with the pestle until they were nearly a powder then grabbed a long handled item with a spherical mesh enclosure on one end. "This is an infuser. It used to belong to my grandmother." Rosemary popped open the mesh enclosure, filling it with the herb mixture. Once the mesh sphere was closed and secured, she held it up for my inspection. "We steep this for a bit and then you drink it." She dropped the infuser into a steaming mug of hot water. "The longer it steeps, the stronger its potency."

  "I think I might start making my own teas!" The whole process fascinated me and I wondered why I hadn't tried making my own herbal mixtures before. It was so simple to do and worth looking into.

  "I'll be happy to teach you what I know."

  I gave her a hug and though she was at first stiff in my embrace, she eventually relaxed, hugging me back. "Rosemary, I will happily learn everything you are willing to teach me."

  Rosemary laughed and pulled away. "Well, certainly you won't want to know everything."

  Although my unease was not as great as it was, I still felt worry tugging at my consciousness and looked down at my steeping tea so Rosemary wouldn't see it in my eyes. I wanted so badly to talk to her about what I read in the paper but did not want to confess that I'd snooped in her closet. Shame for my actions knocked around in my chest making my heart skip and jump with anxiety. Even so, as wrong as it was, there was no way I could have ignored such a direct suggestion from a spirit. Besides, I'd done so with the best of intentions. But still, did that really justify the invasion of Rosemary's privacy? No. And yet, yes.

  "Is the headache worse?"

  "What?" I turned to Rosemary, surprised by the question.

  "You look troubled. Is your headache that bad?"

  "No. It's fine, really. I'm just worried about my pets and I'm worried about Kade."

  "Kade is the young man you are dating?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, soon he will see that all is well. Your pets should be fine. It's not been that long."

  Rosemary grabbed a bottle of honey from the cupboard. "Would you like me to sweeten the tea a tad?"

  "Yes, please." Rosemary pulled the infuser out of the mug, poured in a dollop of honey and stirred it a few times before handing the brew over to me.

  "Thank you." I took a cautious sip, found it to be pleasant tasting and gave Rosemary a thumbs up. "It's delicious."

  Smiling at the approval, she headed for her bedroom. "I'm going to get dressed. Why don't you take your tea out to the porch and watch for Grace? I'll be right out."

  Although it was a bit chilly, the sun was warm and I sat on the top step enjoying the peace and quiet. Rosemary joined me a short time later and we shared a companionable silence. The drama of my early morning nightmare was wearing off and my worry over it melting to mild concern. Surely all was well, despite Sheila's continued silence. Was she testing me? Did spirit guides test those they are supposed to be guiding? I had no idea and made a mental note to check into it during our next communication.

  The distant sky promised heavy clouds and I knew if Grace didn't hurry up and get here, the weather was going to prevent another visit. In fact, now I was paying attention, the stillness felt unnatural. Eerie. Nothing moved. Not a breeze stirred. A chill began to creep slow and steady along my spine, reaching my scalp, prickling it in a most uncomfortable way. Accompanying that was the ever-increasing feeling of dread.

  Nothing felt real. Again I wondered if I was dead. The mug felt real enough in my hands. I took a big swallow of tea. That felt quite real too. Would I be drinking tea if I was dead? Surely not.

  "The weather isn't going to be ideal for long. Hopefully Grace will realize that and get her butt out here."

  Please, God, do get Grace's butt in gear! "How did your husband die, Rosemary?" Though I wasn't going to mention it directly, I didn't feel like beating around the proverbial bush. The best way to deal with fear and troubling issues is to confront them. Both were creating obstacles for me right now.

  "Why do you ask?" Rosemary stood up and after a long hesitation she sat down on the step beside me.

  "I think it's important. I don't know why. I just do."

  Another long silence and then finally. "His heart did him in."

  "He had a heart attack?"

  Rosemary's mouth twisted into an unpleasant smile. "You could say that."

  "You told me he was abusive to you but didn't bother Grace the way your step-father bothered you. Did he abuse her in any way?"

  The door behind us slammed closed, startling both Rosemary and me. We jumped in unison, turning to stare at each other in alarm. Then the sounds of shattering glass broke the eerie silence. Something major was going down inside the cabin. The noise was deafening and I wondered if the entire place was being destroyed.

  "Oh no! Oh my dear." Rosemary scrambled to her feet and grabbed the door, tugging hard, but no matter how much she tried, she could not get it to open.

  The boards creaked beneath our feet
and I barely had enough time to yell for Rosemary to watch out when the posts supporting the porch on the end to our left snapped, sending us tumbling to the ground.

  Neither of us wasted any time getting to our feet for we knew we needed to prepare for anything and expect the worse. Turning in unison, we stared at the damage, unable to believe what our eyes clearly conveyed. I'd never seen anything like it. Even the evil that was in my house when we first moved in did not create havoc like this.

  Rosemary sank to the ground, sobbing into her hands. "Oh no. My house. My house."

  "We can fix it, Rosemary. Kade is good at fixing things. But we need to get rid of your ghosts." I knelt next to her and grasped her hands, pulling them gently from her face. "Tell me about your husband. What happened?" Everything went crazy when I asked her that question so I figured the answer was really important.

  Rosemary dropped her hands and looked at me with eyes clearly expressing the horror I read about in the paper. "He got mad because I'd taken Grace to see a doctor. He'd grabbed her hand the night before and I was afraid he'd broken a bone. I don't know how he found out. Someone must have told him. He was angrier than ever that night. At first I tried to deny it and that made him madder. He hit me several times and Grace..." Rosemary choked back a sob. "Grace tried to stop him and he hit her too." Her eyes narrowed to slits, the fury the memory evoked rising within her. "I never attacked him when he was in a rage because it only made him worse and he was stronger than me but when he hurt Grace..." Rosemary's head fell back as she drew in a deep breath. Tears slid down her face in a steady stream of sorrow. "I grabbed the heaviest weapon I could find ... a rolling pin that used to be mama's. I think she would have liked him to go with something that belonged to her."

  "But you didn't kill him did you?" As much as it hurt her to talk, I needed to know the whole story and I think Rosemary needed to tell it.

  "No." She dropped her head in shame. "I wasn't strong enough. He took it from me and was going to hit me. It would have killed me. I know it, but Grace...."