Grace Before Dying

by M. L. Bullock

  Lily paused as the smile vanished from her face. Oh, shoot! She must have forgotten her lines. I continued to hold the camera and waited for her to pick up where she left off. Rather than intercede I waited with a patient expression. Detra Ann was moving her mouth as if to give her hints, like a true stage mother…or in this case, aunt. Chloe was bored with the whole thing already and was shining the “spotlight” in her own eyes before turning it on me.

  “Cut that out, Chloe. You’ll blind me.” Detra Ann ignored us as she encouraged Lily to continue.

  “You know it, Lily. Good evening…”

  Lily sighed in exasperation as she continued to repeat the same phrase. Chloe banged the coffee table with the flashlight. Apparently, the batteries weren’t working. Lily put her hands on her skinny hips and glared at the toddler. It didn’t do any good, but I didn’t blame her. Chloe was being a real pill. Detra Ann took the flashlight from the baby and put it on the end table out of her reach. She got a scream for her trouble.

  “Chloe, if you don’t behave you won’t get to wear your Elsa pajamas tonight. You’ll have to wear the unicorn pajamas instead. Which one do you want?” Oh, talk about a low blow. Chloe immediately stopped her shenanigans. There was no doubt the curly-headed child loved Elsa above all others.

  “Elsa! I want Elsa!” Chloe whined as she climbed in her mother’s lap. The child needed a nap. I did too. I was suddenly exhausted and I reminded myself again to call Amara after Lily’s rehearsal. Poor Lil. She looked disappointed in herself. I ended the video as I watched my niece struggle with her confidence and her memory.

  “Start again, Lily. You’re doing great,” I said with genuine excitement. Lily closed her expressive eyes and stood tall. I loved her determination. Again I swung the camera up and tapped the record button.

  “Good evening.”

  “Good evening, good evening. Excuse me—I don’t mean to be rude but would I be right in thinking that you are a Daughter of Eve?”

  “My name’s Lucy.”

  And so it went without any further hiccups. Lily did marvelously. At the end of her third pass, her toughest monologue came through smoothly. We clapped loudly to show our approval. Even baby Chloe clapped and cheered as she yawned. As the applause ended, Lily took a deep bow, but something strange happened. Someone else was clapping, from the hallway. For another few seconds, the applause continued, but not from any of us. Not from Detra Ann or Chloe or me. Yes, that’s right. The clapping came from out in the hallway.

  “Ashland? Is that you?” Strange. I didn’t hear them come in. From Lily’s face, she didn’t either. Lily and I went out into the hallway but there was nothing to see. The three of us searched the hallway, but nobody was there, no one we could see.

  The camera beeped in my hand. Had I left it on? Oh, the battery was dying. Detra Ann’s wide eyes questioned mine, but I had no answers for her. None at all. I wasn’t sure what was happening here. Some weird effect maybe from our applause? Lily walked to the backdoor and turned the handle. It was locked, as were all the other doors on this floor. Strangely enough, I observed that she didn’t appear all that shook up about it. Strange indeed.

  “Um, let’s plug up the camera to the television and watch your performance, Chloe. You did great, you know. Great. You’re going to make a wonderful Lucy.”

  “Okay,” she said as she took the camera and went back to the Blue Room with Chloe in tow.

  Detra Ann whispered like a freight train. “What was that? You heard the applause, I know you did. We all did. I thought this place was cleared. Do we need to call Gulf Coast Paranormal back out? Let’s nip any paranormal activity in the bud. You don’t want that happening here again. I know you don’t. Life is too short to be surrounded by ghosts and such, Carrie Jo.”

  “I know you mean well, but I don’t need a lecture. No, I don’t think we need to call Midas. I haven’t been seeing or hearing anything. Until now. Let’s just not freak out just yet. Let’s go watch the film and spend time with the girls. Let me go get the cookies I baked earlier. Chocolate chip. Does Chloe have a juice box?”

  Detra Ann’s mouth set in a frown. “I’m not lecturing you. I just want to make sure I’m

  not going crazy.”

  “Since we all heard it I think we can rule that out. It’s okay, my friend. It could have been an echo. Just a strange echo.”

  Detra Ann peeked into the Blue Room and then joined me as I walked to the kitchen.

  “Echo my ass. You have a ghost here. Another ghost. Boy, I tell you. There’s no limit to the ghosts that turn up at Seven Sisters. At least this ghost is a fan of the arts.” She shook her head as she retrieved the tray and I grabbed drinks. Before we could get out of the room good Lily streaked into the kitchen.

  “You have to see this! The film! There’s a kid!”

  Clutching our goodies we made our way to the living room and waited nervously as Lily scrolled back the footage to the end of her performance, right when she was taking her bow. And she was right.

  Behind her, only a few feet behind her was the image of a boy, faded and nearly all black, fluttering in and out of focus. She hit rewind and we watched it again. I had no words. Nothing to say at all. What could I say?

  We’d captured a ghost.

  And he was stalking Lily.

  Chapter Three—Lily

  I found it humorous that my aunt and Detra Ann wanted to pretend that nothing happened in the Blue Room tonight. I wasn’t deaf, dumb, and blind. They seemed to forget that I had seen and heard far scarier things than a few seconds of phantom clapping and a ghostly shadow on a video. That’s the way it always was with my aunt. She wanted to save me from my past, but the past couldn’t be redeemed. Not really. But the footage? Okay, yeah. That creeped me out.

  Carrie Jo took the camera to her room, probably to quietly show Uncle Ashland. Man, I’d love to look at it again, this time in slow motion. I would ask her to see it, but not tonight. I had to eventually get some sleep. The play was tomorrow night! I couldn’t believe I was Lucy! What a great book and I loved that character. She was a little young for me, but my teacher said I could pull it off.

  At least one person liked it. Even though he, or she, was dead. What I hadn’t told anyone, which made tonight’s event freakier; I hadn’t told anyone about my previous experience with my spirit fan. The strange applause happened once before--yesterday when I ran lines by myself here in my bedroom. At first, I thought the clapping came from AJ. My younger cousin enjoyed “sneaking” on me, as he called it. But when I pushed the creaking door open I didn’t see a soul. Not so surprising here at Seven Sisters. But not expected either.

  It was late and I should be in bed because it was a school night, but I wanted to record tonight’s events in my journal. I had to get it all down so I could recall all the details later. It helped to put the pieces together.

  Sitting at my desk I flicked on my unicorn light and reached for my journal. When I wasn’t doodling in the leather-bound book I kept it hidden in the secret compartment of Calpurnia’s desk. Well, it used to be Calpurnia’s desk; it was mine now and I believed she’d be okay with that. She didn’t hang around here, not like some ghosts did, but I could sense her at times as I sat with my gel pen poised over the paper. Or more precisely I could sense what she left behind. Yeah, a few left behind pieces of Calpurnia Cottonwood were in the wood of the desk. Her tears, hopes, and dreams. I hoped one day someone else would sit at this desk and feel the same thing about me. Only I didn’t want to have to go through all the things she did.

  I wanted adventure, not tragedy.

  For now, the desk was all mine. Losing myself in my thoughts made me happy; writing them down made me even happier. I needed to draw and write and doodle. I needed to talk about things- but in a way that wouldn't cause worry or concern. Aunt CJ and Uncle Ashland were always worried about me—always whispering about one thing or another. They were worried that I was fragile--too fragile to handle the real world. There were times when
I resented their overprotectiveness, but I also loved them for it. No one seemed to care before. I’d adapted to being alone. It took work to let other people in.

  My Mom and Dad had been the worst. The absolute worst parents ever.

  No! I’m not going to spend another minute thinking about them. Not my parents.

  They never cared about what I thought, or how I felt- not like parents should. And now they were dead. Dead and gone and I never wanted them to come back. Not even in my dreams, and there were times when that was hard to do. Pushing them away in that world was not always easy. My heart betrayed me when I was asleep because in that space I was much more open. I couldn’t explain it, although I certainly tried to. I closed my eyes and thought of something cheerful, just like the therapist taught me.

  What to think about? Well, I had a few friends at school, including Katrina Valentine. Who would have thunk it? She was cool and everything, but I didn’t care for some of her friends. That’s okay. It didn’t mean they had to be my friends.

  And Bryan and I had gotten close. I don’t know if I would call him a boyfriend, but he wanted me too. He wrote my name all over his book which I thought was kind of stupid. And then just this past week, during drama practice, he tried to hold my hand. He was Mr. Tumnus in the play, but there was no reason for us to hold hands.

  We were running lines together on the bleachers when he reached over and grabbed my hand. His hand was warm and sweaty. “What are you doing?” I pulled my hand away like it was on fire.

  “Holding your hand, of course. That’s what people do when they like each other.”

  “Why? Do you think I’m going to run away or something? We’re not crossing the street. Stop it, Bryan.”

  With a sigh of disgust, my kind-of boyfriend walked away from me and didn’t talk to me for the rest of the day. Except during rehearsal. Okay, dude. Whatever, I lied to myself, but his reaction did bother me. No way had I intended to hurt his feelings, but come on. Hand holding? We weren’t, like, official or anything. And we weren’t in preschool. Only little kids did the hand holding thing. Ugh. That’s too personal.

  I wrote a few sentences in my journal about Bryan’s goofy moves and then chronicled tonight’s latest paranormal events. Naturally, I spent much more time on that. I was dying to talk to Uncle Ashland about it; he was usually cooler about the ghost stuff than my aunt. Maybe it was just a passerby. That happened occasionally, ghosts stopped by on their way to another destination. They don’t stay here anymore, that’s what my uncle told me. Not anymore. All of the family ghosts were resting and out of the way.

  About once a month Uncle Ashland walked around the property looking for people to help move on, but he hadn’t had to do that very much recently. I liked going with him as he walked the Moonlight Garden and the surrounding property. It was neat watching him work.

  But neither he nor Aunt CJ came to tuck me in tonight. I had to admit I’d been dropping hints that I was getting older and didn’t need such rituals. I guess they took it to heart. I was cool with that too. I wasn’t a little kid like AJ, I could tuck myself in. After I finished my recounting of the events I put the journal back in the hidey-hole. The secret door closed with a satisfying clicking sound. Capping my pens, I rearranged them in their Hello Kitty cup and turned off the desk light.

  Technically, I was ready for bed, but I didn’t want to go to sleep. Not yet. How could I? Ghosts were applauding for me. I had first-time play jitters and I didn’t know what to do about the Brian situation. Most girls my age had moms to talk to about such things, but not me. And although I loved my aunt I found myself wanting to talk to Uncle Ashland more. I felt terrible about that but it was the truth. I guess it made sense. Mom and I had never been close. Never. Not that I’d been close to Chance Jardine either. Poor Aunt Carrie Jo. She did not deserve my favoritism.

  Aunt Carrie Jo looked so much like my Dad, but that wasn’t why, was it? I mean it made sense. They were brother and sister. Or they had been. But it wasn’t that at all. Was it?

  I tiptoed out into the hallway to listen to the sounds of the house. If I stood in just the right spot at the top of the stairs I could hear everything. Absolutely everything. It was the perfect perch for spying and listening to conversations that grownups didn’t want you to hear. But tonight I didn’t hear a thing. I strained to pick up voices, or the television, or anything at all.

  AJ was probably in bed, it was past ten o’clock. I couldn’t hear the television downstairs and nothing from my aunt and uncle’s bedroom. That didn’t mean they weren’t in there, it just meant I didn’t need to knock on the door. I was young, but not stupid about stuff. With a sigh of disappointment, I turned to go back to my room.

  I heard tapping. Like rocks, small rocks hitting a window. It didn’t sound too far away either. “AJ?” I whispered into the dark hallway behind me. He wasn’t there, nobody was, but the sound continued.

  Tap. Tap.

  My feet were cold like they were immersed in an ice bath. I wished I’d put my socks on before coming out here. This hallway was always drafty, but this seemed a little beyond a mere draft. Posed in the center of the hall I cocked my head to get a better listen. Was it raining outside? Could that be the reason for the repetitive tapping? I followed the noise. It wasn’t steady, not like rain was pouring off the edge of the house. Not like the air conditioning unit that sometimes made the vent in my room click. This was not rhythmic, but random.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  No, that sounded like tiny little rocks tapping on the glass. Images of Romeo and Juliet came to my mind, but that was a silly idea. There were no Romeos in my life unless you included Bryan. And since the kid couldn’t drive yet it was doubtful he came all the way to Seven Sisters to throw rocks at the balcony window. That wasn’t even my room.

  What am I doing? I should go get Aunt Carrie Jo or Uncle Ashland and let them deal with this. As always the curtains are slightly opened to allow sunlight to infiltrate the sometimes dark hallway. My aunt loved opening the windows and doors and airing the place out. Usually, everything was closed, even the curtains when we went to bed. Not tonight. I could see outside, but I didn’t have a full view of the balcony. There was the edge of the table and a few chairs, but something told me there was more to discover.

  What was waiting on the balcony?

  Tap!

  I saw the rock this time. Small and white I watched it bounce off of the glass. I tucked my hair behind my ear as I continued my journey to the balcony door. There was no stopping me now — I had to see who, or what, was doing this. 10 feet, 9 feet, 8 feet… The tapping ceased and there was no evidence of anything at all, but there was no way I was dreaming this up. I was fully awake. Just to prove that to myself I pinched my upper arm. Oh yeah. That hurt and I was certainly awake. My fingers moved closer to the curtain as I took the remaining steps to clear the distance between me and the door.

  My breathing came fast and my heart pounded so loudly I thought everyone in the house would hear me. I glanced over my shoulder hoping that my aunt would decide to step out into the hallway. There was nobody there. No lights were on under any doors except mine.

  I suddenly felt very alone in this great big house. Along with the rock-throwing being. It had to be a ghost. If it was a burglar, a robber of some sort, why would he stop to throw rocks at the window? Why would he do such a thing?

  Don’t stop now, Lily!

  Just like ripping off a Band-Aid, I snatched the curtain back. I don’t know what I expected to see. I didn’t believe there was a ghost out here, but now I had proof. I saw a boy, younger than me and smaller. Much smaller. His hair was parted on the side and short, but wavy. He wore a uniform as if he were a soldier, but he was too young for that.

  He hovered there like a hummingbird with no wings. His eyes were not black holes of terror. They were expressive and very much alive looking. The rest of him was gray, his skin, his shoes, and even his strange costume, but his eyes were blue. Blue like the ocean. And
he hovered, those blue eyes focused on mine. I didn’t know what to think, how to proceed. I’d seen a ghost or two and my time here at Seven Sisters, but that wasn’t my thing. Not really. I was a dream catcher like my aunt. But I wasn’t dreaming, no need to pinch myself again.

  I felt a warm hand in mine. I staggered and smothered a yelp as I realized it was my young cousin AJ. As I recovered from the surprise I glanced back at the window, but the hovering boy had vanished. There was nothing to see except a small pile of white rocks. This was the evidence I needed to prove the paranormal activity I witnessed.

  “You saw him. Didn’t you? Can I sleep in your room?”

  I clutched his hand in mine but didn’t make a move towards the door. It was a good thing too because AJ wasn’t budging. He must’ve been asleep because his pajamas were askew and his hair a mess. AJ was a hard sleeper.

  “Yes, I saw him. He was throwing rocks at the window,” I whispered to him as I glanced again at the glass. With a squeeze of my hand, I released his and inched toward the balcony door to verify once more that what we had seen was accurate.

  “I don’t like him. He comes in my dreams. He is very loud. Can I sleep with you?”