“That’s all right. It gave me a little time to soak up some sun and take in the sights.”
Julie sat down next to Maya. “Green grass, beautiful trees with green leaves, yes. It’s all beautiful.”
“Actually, I meant the human factor. See that?” She pointed to an interaction similar to the one she had watched before Julie had arrived.
They watched for a few moments before Julie said, “You’d think they’d want to be more discreet. The caretaker probably knows what they’re up to.”
“True, but that could be a big part of the thrill. Besides, they probably wouldn’t be doing it here if they weren’t sure Mike wouldn’t tattle. Speaking of the caretaker, come on. Let’s go see if he’s around.”
The cottage wasn’t as romantic looking as the word cottage would suggest. A squat, one-story structure of brown brick with a crumbling barn at the back, it had a dispiriting, utilitarian quality to it. Someone, however, had painted the front door a vivid robin’s egg blue. Maya figured Mike must have done it and recently, too, because the paint didn’t look weathered. She couldn’t help but smile at the owl door knocker.
Maya knocked once, but there was no answer. Then Julie gave the knocker a couple of tries, still no response.
Maya had stepped back from the door and was contemplating what to do next when she saw Mike coming from the back of the house.
Julie started walking toward him and waved. “Hey, Mike!” she yelled.
The caretaker smiled. He wore a tank top, beige cargo pants and brown work boots that were covered in dirt. “Well, I’ll be. It’s the ghost hunters again. Didn’t expect to see you in the light of day.”
“We’re not vampires,” Maya said. “And we just want to ask you a few questions.”
Mike came to a stop in front of them. Up close and in daylight, Maya thought him handsome. His cheeks and jaw wore a few days of stubble that were slowly turning into a beard. If he did let a beard grow, she thought it a shame that it would cover up the dimple in his chin. She guessed him to be in his thirties and wondered if he had ever looked boyish, even when he was a boy.
“A few questions about what?” He brought his hand up to his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun.
“About your time here. We’re trying to get a little historical background to help our current investigation,” Julie said. “Do you have some time now?”
Mike cocked his head to one side. “Historical background? Okay. You better come in.”
Maya and Julie trailed after Mike down the path that snaked around to the back of the cottage. Maya was struck by the garden, which contained a mix of fruits, vegetables, and flowers. She stepped off the flagstone path and walked toward a clump of bushes growing near the tool shed.
“Blackberries! You’ve got fresh blackberries,” she exclaimed. The berries wouldn’t be ready to pick for another few weeks, but she couldn’t hide her delight at seeing the bushes, as they brought back memories of childhood summers with relatives in Virginia and North Carolina.
“Not ready yet,” Mike said. “But you can come back and do some picking when they are.” He stepped into the cottage.
Maya caught up to Julie, who had waited for her before going inside. They found themselves in the utility room. Mike was sitting on a small bench where he was taking off his work boots and socks. He picked up a container of powder and sprinkled a copious amount into his boots.
“You go on,” he said. “I won’t be but a moment.”
Maya followed Julie into the living room, which had a decidedly old-fashioned feel to it.
“I feel like I’ve stepped into an antique store,” Julie said. “I mean, look at this.”
The object of Julie’s exclamation was a console in the middle of the room.
“It’s a hi-fi, a hi-fi console. I remember my grandparents had one when I was little. I remember they mostly kept it in their garage because Grandpa kept insisting he was going to fix it. He had a hard time getting parts for it. This one isn’t exactly like Grandpa’s, but it’s pretty close.”
Without knowing what year the console belonged to, Maya could tell that it was vintage. Its blond wood looked as though it had been dusted and polished recently. It almost looked new, but it couldn’t be.
“Would you ladies like something to drink? I’ve got lemonade, water, beer. What would you like?” said Mike, standing at the threshold between the living room and kitchen.
“Lemonade for me, please,” Maya said.
Julie opted for water. She asked him about the hi-fi. He said he’d had it since 1981 when he bought it from one of his uncles.
Once Mike had gotten their drinks, he sat down in the chair across from Maya and Julie who sat on the sofa.
“Fire away,” he said.
Maya began by asking him when he started working for the forest service.
He started in 1978, he said. His first job was on a clean-up crew, which would go around to the various forest service properties in the region and clean up trash left behind by people as well as natural detritus, such as limbs and branches. Two years later, he was offered the job as the caretaker of Promontory Woods. He readily admitted that he’d gotten the jobs, both on the clean-up crew and as caretaker, through family connections.
“Yeah, it was all patronage. The only thing I knew about the forest was that it had trees and grass. Grass is green. Trees have leaves, trunks, and branches. Fortunately, I didn’t have to know much just to clean shit up. Pardon my French. When I took the job as caretaker, the public library was my friend because it had all the Audubon Society books. I read every one they had from cover to cover and back again.”
Julie asked, “Why take the job if you knew so little about nature?”
Mike shrugged. “I needed a job. At the end of the ‘70s inflation was in double digits. By 1980 we were at the beginning of a double dip recession. There was nothing else on offer.”
“You must have heard all the stories about these woods. Did you ever have any trepidation?” Maya asked.
“Trepidation?”
“Fear,” Maya said. Something was nagging at her. Something was not right.
“I know what trepidation means. Yeah, I heard all the stories. So what? Again, I needed a job.”
“All the stories? There are a lot of stories about Promontory Woods,” Julie said.
“Maybe I exaggerated, but I’ve made it my business to know as much as possible about these woods. It’s my job, and they’ve become my home. You should be asking me if I believe the stories.”
Maya gazed at him for a moment and then looked around at the living room furnishings. Everything reminded her of her visits with older relatives. They had found the furnishings they liked early in their adult lives and saw little reason to update. Mike’s living room was like that, although there was something different about it. She wondered if the rest of the cottage was like that or if it was just the living room that was a time capsule.
“Okay, so, do you believe the stories?” Julie asked.
Mike nodded and leaned back in his chair. “I see no reason not to.”
“Ghost hunters like hearing that,” Julie said with pride.
He snorted derisively. “Ghost hunters. Most of them are morons, and the rest are con artists. They have no idea what they’re doing most of the time.”
Maya decided to redirect the conversation. It was starting to feel too combative and scattered. Besides, she was working with Julie as an equal, not a subordinate. Time to act like it.
“You like old things, Mike,” Maya said, as if she hadn’t heard him sneering at ghost hunters.
Mike looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“Well, Julie said it when we came in here. She said it looked like an antique store. Do you like antiques?”
“Antiques? These aren’t antiques. This is my stuff.” He didn’t yell, but his voice got slightly louder. He drank more of his beer and leaned forward slightly, a bit aggressively.
“I don’t m
ean to offend you. It’s just that I don’t see things like this very often. There’s something about it that’s otherworldly, I guess.” It was at that moment that Maya figured out why things didn’t look right. The items in Mike’s place were obviously from a different era, but it was like they had barely been used. Everything looked new.
“No offense taken. You like the lemonade?”
Maya realized she’d only taken a couple of sips of it. “Oh yes. It’s very nice.” She took another drink.
“Not too sour?”
She looked at the glass, which was winter-sports themed. The design depicted scenes of skiing, hockey, and figure skating. She drank again. “It’s perfect.”
Mike’s smile, still always with a touch of sadness, got a little broader.
“Have you heard about Katie Morey? She disappeared in the woods in 1957,” Julie said.
Mike sat back in his chair. He didn’t speak for a few moments and then looked at Maya. “That the one you mentioned when we first met?”
Maya nodded.
“I didn’t know the name, but I’ve heard of a girl who disappeared hereabouts about that time. Family still looking for her?”
Julie nodded. “We met Katie, or rather her ghost, the last time we were here, when we ran into you the other night.”
For a moment Mike seemed lost in time, like the other night was both years away or sometime in the future or hadn’t happened at all. Then he seemed to remember.
“Did you? Who’d she talk to?”
“She would only talk to Maya,” Julie said. “We couldn’t get her to acknowledge her sister who was with us.”
Maya felt Mike’s gaze on her, like he was assessing her.
“The ghost has an affinity for you. Or maybe it’s you that’s got the affinity.”
Something in Maya’s gut told her to not reveal her other encounters with ghosts. She hadn’t had that many, and, for some reason, she was wary. She hoped Julie wouldn’t spill the beans. “Maybe.”
“It’s not unheard of, but it’s rare. You’re rare.” He seemed to be staring straight into Maya, as if her clothing and her skin were the easiest barriers to clear. A shiver, much like the one she felt on the first day of her investigation, ran down her spine.
Julie swirled around the water left in her glass and drank it. “Do you have any thoughts about why the woods are haunted? Katie’s not the only person who’s disappeared over the years.”
“What?” He swung his attention from Maya to Julie.
“Why these woods? Why are they haunted? Why did Katie or anyone else disappear here?”
Mike shrugged, but there was something about that question that changed his tone from indifference to not quite angry. “Your guess is as good as mine. Some places are just special. I’m sorry, ladies. I need to get back to work, and I don’t have much more to tell you.”
Maya and Julie got up from the sofa, picking up their glasses.
Mike gestured. “Leave them there. I’ll take care of them.”
He escorted them to the front door and wished them well on their investigation. Before he could close the door, Maya turned back.
“How old were you when you started the caretaking job?” she asked.
“Twenty-one. I took the caretaker job one month after I turned twenty-one. Is that all?”
“Yes, Mike. Thank you.”
He nodded and closed the door after them. Maya heard the deadbolt click into place.
As they walked back to their cars, Julie asked, “Why did you want to know how old he was when he started working as caretaker?”
“Think about it. How old do you think he is now?”
Julie clicked her tongue. “He looks like he’s in his late thirties, but that can’t be right if he started working here in 1980 when he was twenty-one. What is he?”
Maya shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Julie walked with Maya to her car. The number of trucks and diggers parked nearby had grown. Construction on the new development would start any day.
“I wonder if the construction will affect Mike? More importantly, what if it affects Katie?” asked Maya. “We have to get back in there, into the woods, and find out once and for all what happened to her.”
“I hope Mrs. Forcier will want to come with us,” said Julie. “She seemed really shaken the other night.”
“Wouldn’t you be?” Maya asked, taking her keys out of her purse. “A family member you love refusing to recognize you. I can’t imagine what that must have felt like. Seems like it shook you up, too.”
“A little.” Julie looked away from Maya. Julie’s long hair fell over her eyes. She was always so blustery, so full of bravado. She seemed a little humbled by their experiences.
“What is it?” asked Maya.
“I love this, investigating strange happenings and hunting ghosts, you know. But this is the first investigation I’ve been involved with where there was an actual ghost and a human who’s really hurting. Most of the time there’s a more normal than paranormal explanation for the bumps in the night. Or the ghost is so old that no one is waiting for them anymore. It’s just kind of scary. And then there’s you, you with your affinity, as Mike calls it.”
“Am I scary?” Maya felt the heat of the sun on her arms. She figured the heat of the day had reached its zenith.
Julie looked right at her then and just as quickly looked away again. “A little.”
Maya was taken aback. She had told Julie about “her affinity” because they were in the investigation together and it would become clear sooner or later that sometimes ghosts zeroed in on Maya. She also told her because she was starting to trust her. She had told very few people about it.
Julie smiled. “Don’t worry. Sometimes I like to be scared. Let me know when you wanna go back into the woods, okay? See ya!”
Maya watched Julie trot to her car and get in. Her gait was solid, purposeful. When she got into her car, a coupe that was old enough to be shabby but not old enough to be vintage, she pulled her long hair back and tied it into a bun. She smiled and waved to Maya before driving off.
She was still getting the “unavailable vibe” from Julie. She felt held back, but, as Penny had observed, maybe that was part of what made Julie so attractive. There was also something lovely about a woman who liked to be scared.
Chapter Thirteen
Back to the woods
Maya had told Mrs. Forcier to bring items from Katie’s past that might reinforce the fact that Mrs. Forcier was really Katie’s sister. Mrs. Forcier brought a few mementos, including a hair clip that had been a present from their mother to Katie the Christmas before her disappearance.
“If we can get Katie to believe that you’re really her sister,” Maya said to Mrs. Forcier as they stood once again in the parking lot at Promontory Woods, “maybe she’ll tell us what really happened to her.”
“And why she’s still here,” Julie added.
“I would like that,” Mrs. Forcier said.
Maya had never seen Mrs. Forcier look so forlorn. She always seemed so strong, almost impenetrable. She touched Mrs. Forcier’s arm gently. The older woman gave her a slight smile.
Tonight, they knew exactly where they were going, so Maya, Julie, and Mrs. Forcier along with Penny, Steve, and Jason made a beeline to the clearing where the disused well stood. Dusk had given way to a cloudy night. Joggers were giving way to late night dog walkers, although the dogs refused to enter the clearing.
When they got to the clearing, Maya called Katie’s name, softly at first, then louder. Mrs. Forcier started singing. It was the same tune she had sung previously, “How High the Moon.” It was a few minutes before Maya felt Katie’s presence. She’d never been able to describe it to the few people who knew of her ability, that moment when she could feel the presence of a spirit. The closest she could come, when she thought about it, was that it was like a shiver running up and down her spine, only all over her body, especially her scalp, but it wasn’t frightening
or unpleasant. It was both toasty warm and freezing cold at the same time.
“She’s coming,” Maya said.
Penny, who had the video camera at the ready, asked, “Where?”
Maya looked to her left and pointed. “There.”
A shimmering, gossamer-like thing, a sort of mist at first glance, coming from the woods, hung where Maya was pointing. It seemed to flow through the trees as if nothing was there.
“Katie,” Mrs. Forcier whispered. She seemed entranced.
“How do you know for sure it’s her?” Julie said to Maya.
“I just feel it. I feel her.”
“Shit. These readings are unbelievable.” Jason circled the well slowly. “And they seem to all lead here.”
Suddenly, the shimmering disappeared.
“Where’d she go?” Penny asked as she stopped filming.
“What the hell just happened?” Steve said. “Something’s not right.”
“Katie! Come back!” Mrs. Forcier wailed.
Jason was shaking his head. “I’m still getting readings. They’re not fading. They’re getting stronger.”
Julie stepped closer to Maya. “Maya, do you still see her? Is she still here?”
“She is.” Maya stood very still as she heard a voice, Katie’s voice, in her head.
Katie said, “You will be my anchor.”
For the first time since she’d been able to see and speak to ghosts, Maya was afraid. “Possession?”
“Who are you talking to?” Julie sounded scared.
Steve and Jason kept circling the well, looking for something that they couldn’t see. Penny turned the camera back on. Maya’s eyes closed halfway.
“Not possession. My touch will be enough. If you’ll be my anchor, I can be whole for a little while. You are the only one who can do this for me. Please.” Her voice was soft and breathy like it was running through a weird filter, but it also had a tone of desperation. Maya didn’t want to say “no,” but she was afraid to say “yes.”
“It’s not permanent?”
The Curse of the Old Woods Page 8