Just South of Home

by Karen Strong

  “Dry and nasty must be your favorite flavor because here you are, asking for a slice,” Janie said. “Like I said, we don’t sell red velvet cake to mean country birds.”

  “You better watch yourself,” Yvonne taunted. “I don’t forget when I’ve been disrespected.”

  “Cut it out,” Jovita said, a defiant spark in her voice. My old friend was still in there somewhere. Yvonne sucked her teeth but remained silent and gave Janie the stank eye.

  Sheree popped her gum again. “You’re not gonna give any birthday wishes?”

  Jovita made eye contact with me but quickly looked down at her sandals. I didn’t understand her. What was she even doing with these girls?

  “Happy birthday, Jovita,” I said quietly.

  She raised her head and gave me a weak smile. “Thanks, Sarah.”

  “We should go. We need to get ready for your party tonight.” Yvonne took Jovita’s hand and led her away.

  “You’re better off without her.” Janie leaned against me. “Good riddance.”

  Mrs. Greene came back into the booth. “Why is Jovita with those girls?”

  “We have no idea,” Janie said.

  When the Deaconess Board booth sold out of cake and pies, we started to clean up. We stopped when we heard a blare of loud static and a voice coming from the Train Depot.

  “Excuse me,” the voice said. “Excuse me, I need you to gather round. I have something to say.”

  “It’s Mrs. Whitney.” I walked out of Marigold Park to the edge of Town Square. Janie trotted behind me and peered over my shoulder.

  Mrs. Whitney held a bullhorn in her hand and gestured to a small crowd that had gathered in front of the Train Depot. I saw Mama and Daddy at the back of the crowd. Ellis and Jasper were standing near the front. My brother bit into a funnel cake and cocked his head to listen.

  “Now that I have everyone’s attention . . .” Mrs. Whitney spoke into the bullhorn, her voice carrying in the wind. “I opened the History Center to document Warrenville’s past events so that we can move toward a better future as a community.”

  Mrs. Greene and the ladies of the Deaconess Board now stood beside us. My grandma crossed her arms and put on her trademark grimace.

  “As we celebrate the fiftieth year of this festival, we also need to acknowledge the troubled spirits of your blood kin who were taken from this world by hatred and fear.”

  “Is this her idea of a plan?” Janie whispered in my ear.

  Some people in the crowd looked around confused, others upset, while a few leaned forward to listen more closely. Mrs. Whitney paused. She now had the townsfolk’s full attention.

  “I want the families of Warrenville to know I am here to help. We have a reckoning in this town, and I can only help usher the restless spirits of your blood kin into the light with your support.”

  A low grumble traveled through the people. Ellis stopped eating his funnel cake, and Jasper stood with his mouth open.

  “Some of you have already come to me with your spiritual problems. I know it can be frightening, but I can provide protection to any family member who needs it,” Mrs. Whitney continued. “It’s our duty to help these restless spirits transition to the next plane of existence.”

  A few people shook their heads and started to walk away.

  “This is not the place!” a woman shouted.

  “Small children are here,” another woman yelled. “You’re gonna scare them to death!”

  Mrs. Whitney pointed to a family in the front. “Delores Cunningham is trapped here in this world. She was a loving mother to you. Don’t you want to see her spirit released?”

  A woman grabbed her husband and stormed off. Murmurs stirred in their exit. Mrs. Whitney searched the crowd and pointed to another family.

  “Titus Williams was going to Alton to vote, and he never made it. Don’t you want your grandfather to finally rest in peace?”

  “That was in the past!” the man shouted back at her. “Stop dredging up painful memories. You need to let it be.” His family turned and also left.

  The crowd dwindled as Mrs. Whitney tried to convince more family members, but no one wanted to listen. I saw Mama and Daddy talking to Mr. Coolidge. Mrs. Whitney’s fiancé nodded during their conversation, his face grim.

  I waited for Mrs. Whitney to say Abner’s name through the bullhorn, loud enough for everyone in Warrenville to hear. Maybe in the spotlight of the Heritage Festival, Mrs. Greene would listen. But it never happened. Mr. Coolidge came up next to Mrs. Whitney and took the bullhorn away. She slumped her shoulders in defeat. No family member had taken her up on her offer to save the restless spirits of their blood kin.

  The ladies of the Deaconess Board tittered with comments.

  “This is exactly why we rejected her application,” Mrs. Collins said.

  “Such a disgrace,” Mrs. Jackson said. “I’m just glad Sylvester had the sense to take that bullhorn away from her.”

  Janie and I went back to cleaning up the booth; our grandma remained silent as she tidied up and folded tablecloths, her face unreadable. When she finished, she turned to us.

  “Find your Daddy so you can head home,” she said. “The festival is over.”

  • • •

  “We can still do something, you know. We’re blood kin,” Janie said as we made our way out of Marigold Park. “We can save Abner ourselves.”

  My cousin had a gleam in her eye, and a new resolve grew in my chest. Mrs. Whitney had told us that haints could be dangerous, but she also had given me Daphnis. We needed to find a way to communicate with Abner and save him before it was too late. We could help Mrs. Whitney bring the town together. We just needed to convince the townsfolk to listen. Maybe if we saved Abner, then others would want to save their blood kin too.

  I remembered the slim book I had found in the library: the woman holding the gilded harp, the full moon’s glow highlighting her dark skin. The Witching Hour.

  “Maybe there is a way,” I said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Brave Girl

  The next day, my parents briefly talked about what had happened at the Heritage Festival. Daddy said Mrs. Whitney had gotten caught up in her tall tales. Mama told us Mrs. Whitney’s heart was in the right place, because she wanted to help the Warrenville community. But neither of them believed restless spirits were haunting the town. We didn’t try to convince them otherwise.

  While Janie painted her nails, I researched the Witching Hour on her phone. I didn’t want to go into Mama’s office and take the chance of her discovering that I had been searching about it on the computer.

  From the information I gathered, there was a consensus that the Witching Hour was a time associated with supernatural activity, but the timing of when that hour happened differed. Most agreed that it could be anywhere from midnight to three in the morning. A full moon provided the highest energy for communication with spirits. I decided to take copious notes and cross-reference my findings.

  I also searched for more information on The Witch’s Moons and found the author’s website. In her photo, Lucinda Meadow wore a dark dress, which highlighted her pale skin. Most of the information she provided online was the same as in her book. She also had some of the witch illustrations on her site. I scrolled down until I found the dark woman in the red silk gown. I stared at the gilded harp in her arms.

  At the end of her explanation of why she wrote the book, Lucinda Meadow simply stated: In the end, it is only our beliefs that matter.

  My beliefs had changed. I now believed in ghosts. I had no choice. The evidence was too overwhelming. However, science still provided me with the facts. The moon’s gravitational pull helped with the evolution of life on our planet. The moon regulated the ocean tides and the climate. The moon was powerful, so why couldn’t it also provide a way to communicate with another realm? Why couldn’t the moon lift the veil to the spirit world?

  “Did you find anything?” Janie asked.

  I turned to f
ace her. “I think I did.”

  • • •

  That night Jasper came for a sleepover and family movie night. Daddy let Ellis pick out a doomsday thriller where the oceans flooded all the cities and everyone fought to get passage on a government cruise ship.

  When we finished the movie, I brought everyone into my room. I sat at my desk, holding Daphnis in my lap. Janie nuzzled Walter, who sat on her shoulder. Jasper and Ellis were on the floor in front of me. My brother brought a bowl of potato chips like he was about to watch another movie. When Janie tried to reach in for a snack, Ellis smacked her hand.

  “Get your own food,” Ellis said.

  Janie frowned. “It’s probably nasty anyway. Your boy breath has been all over it.”

  “So what’s up, Sarah?” Jasper asked.

  I hoped that what I was about to say wouldn’t scare them. I needed their help. There was no way I was going to Creek Church by myself at night.

  “I figured out a way we can help Abner. I’ve calculated the best time to communicate with him.”

  Jasper eyed me suspiciously. “You’re not gonna let Mrs. Whitney handle this? She said haints can be dangerous. We don’t want a repeat of what happened the last time we were at Creek Church.”

  “We still have some blessed salt and the protection pouches Mrs. Whitney gave us. Plus, I have Daphnis,” I said.

  “Who?” Ellis asked.

  I gave the statue to my brother, and he examined it closely.

  “She’s a talisman Mrs. Whitney gave me,” I told him.

  “Daphnis is one of the main reasons the haints haven’t returned to the house,” Janie added.

  “So there’s a special time to communicate with haints?” Jasper asked.

  “It’s called the Witching Hour. During a full moon at midnight—”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Ellis asked.

  “Spirits are at their peak at midnight during a full moon,” I said. “The veil between the worlds is at its thinnest.”

  “How did you figure out all this?” Jasper asked.

  “I found a book in the library,” I said. “Then I did some research online. The Witching Hour seems to be our best and only chance to talk with Abner.”

  “You really believe this?” Jasper asked.

  “Duh, if Sarah believes what she read, then it must have some worth,” Janie said.

  “It has to be during that hour? At midnight?” Jasper grimaced as if his stomach ached.

  Ellis shook his head. “I don’t wanna be near Creek Church at that time.”

  “The next full moon is going to occur Friday night. We can go and get Abner out of that place,” I said.

  “We’re forgetting something,” Ellis said. “Mama doesn’t let us go anywhere after supper. What makes you think she’ll let us out at midnight?”

  “We’re going to tell Mama we’re having a camp night at Jasper’s house,” I said.

  Janie perked up. “You’ve thought of everything, huh?”

  “Do you think your mama would let you do that?” Jasper asked.

  “If Sarah asks, she’ll let us,” Ellis said. “But that means she’ll have to lie.”

  “It won’t be lying. I do have a tent,” Jasper said.

  I already knew I needed to be the one to ask Mama. I had never lied to her before, and even though we would have a camp night at Jasper’s house, I wouldn’t be telling the whole truth.

  “It will be easy to sneak away at my place,” Jasper said. “My mama’s a hard sleeper. After she knocks out, you can have a parade and fireworks, and she won’t wake up.”

  Jasper’s daddy also worked the graveyard shift, painting transformers at a manufacturing plant in Alton, so he wouldn’t be around either.

  “So we’re really going to do this? End our lives as haint food?” Ellis asked.

  “You don’t have to go,” Janie said. “You can stay at home.”

  Ellis pouted and ate the rest of his potato chips in silence.

  “It’s the right thing to do, Ellis,” I said. “This is bigger than us. Abner isn’t the only restless spirit. So many others need to be saved. We need to show that it’s possible. We need to get people to believe. This is what Mrs. Whitney wanted.”

  “Sarah’s right,” Janie said. “This is how we can help the whole town.”

  “You don’t want to ask your mama at the last minute,” Jasper said. “We need to get our plans together.”

  “I don’t want to sound suspicious,” I added.

  “It’s not like she’s gonna guess,” Janie said.

  Going to Creek Church during the Witching Hour scared me. The place was creepy enough in the daytime. But I wanted to help Abner and, hopefully, the town, so I would have to find a way to be a brave girl. I would do it for him. I would do it for everyone I called family.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  A Guilty Liar

  On Monday night I went downstairs to Mama’s office. She had the French doors closed and was focused on a mess of papers. Her hair was up in a topknot, her reading glasses perched on her nose. I wanted to turn away and go back upstairs. Mama liked Jasper, so I knew she would let us stay at his house. But I didn’t know if I had it in me to stretch the truth about the real reason we wanted to spend the night. I thought about the Witching Hour. Could it be true? That sliver of time when the dead could communicate with the living? What would Abner tell us? What if he didn’t show up? I knocked lightly on the door.

  Mama looked up and smiled. I quietly went in and sat down in the leather chair in front of her desk.

  “You’re still working, Mama?” I asked.

  “I have a case I’m researching,” she said. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes.” I fidgeted in my seat. “I just wanted to ask you a question.”

  “What is it?” Mama took off her glasses. “Do you need to check your e-mail?”

  “I was wondering if we could have a camp night at Jasper’s house.”

  “What do you plan to do?” Mama asked.

  My stomach lurched, but I continued selling my fabricated story. “Jasper has a tent and wants to spend the night under the stars. He wants to learn more about the constellations. Plus, there’s a full moon. I could teach him about the different craters you can see with the naked eye.”

  “That sounds like fun,” she said.

  I was surprised at how well this was going. I had been prepared for more cross-examination. Maybe Mama was tired. Or maybe she was glad that we were getting out of the house.

  “I was thinking Friday night?”

  Mama ruffled through her papers and looked at the desk calendar. “That should work.”

  “Really?” I said, surprised. “You’ll let us go?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Mama said. “Unless there’s something else going on?”

  I pressed my lips together. Yes, Mama, we need to communicate with a ghost boy at midnight.

  “No, Mama.”

  I couldn’t tell Mama the truth. She was a logical person who dealt with facts. Just like I used to be. She would want proof, and I couldn’t give her any right now.

  “Okay,” Mama said as she put her reading glasses back on, a signal our conversation was over.

  I got up to leave and rubbed my hands on my pajamas to wipe away the guilt sweat.

  “Sarah,” Mama said.

  I turned to face her.

  “I’m proud of you this summer. I’m glad that you’ve made Janie feel at home here. A part of the family. I have to admit I was worried at first, but you’ve shown me that you are the responsible young lady that I knew you could be. I now know that I can trust you.”

  I swallowed hard. The guilt rose in my throat and spread across my cheeks. Mama didn’t know the truth. I wasn’t responsible. I was a liar, and I was doing things behind her back. But I couldn’t turn away. Not now. I was too invested. In our family. In our town.

  “Thanks, Mama,” I said.

  I walked out of the office and closed the doo
rs. Janie and Ellis were waiting for me in my bedroom. Janie had Walter in her lap.

  “What did she say?” Janie asked.

  I sat at my desk. I should have been happy about this, but I wasn’t. I should have been relieved, but all I felt was guilty.

  “She said we could go,” I said.

  “I knew you could do it,” Janie cheered.

  I heard the faint trill of the house phone, and a few moments later Daddy appeared in the doorway.

  “Sarah, the phone’s for you. It’s Jovita.”

  Janie frowned. “I wouldn’t take her call.”

  “It’s okay. Thanks, Daddy.” I took the cordless phone from him.

  I slowly walked down the stairs and sat on the sofa in the den. I was surprised that Jovita was calling me. I took a deep breath and put the phone up to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Sarah?” Jovita’s voice was small and high pitched.

  “Jovita? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice was full of tears.

  Jovita had ignored me all summer. She had become friends with the same girls who had bullied me for years and had publicly thrown away our friendship at the Alton Mall. Even though she stood up for me at the Heritage Festival, she still hadn’t invited me to her birthday party. I didn’t know which part she was sorry about.

  “I’ve messed everything up,” she continued. “Those Jones Girls, they’re awful. All they do is talk about people. And then I—” Her voice cracked.

  “Jovita, what happened?”

  “I—I overheard them,” she said. “They were talking about me.”

  “What did they say?”

  “They’re not nice. They were using me. They don’t even like me.”

  Jovita had always wanted to be well liked and have lots of friends. She didn’t want to be on the outer rim. It was too far away. Too cold and isolated. She wanted to be in the spotlight. To bask in the brightness of attention. As close to the sun as Mercury. But apparently she veered too close and got burned. I listened as Jovita cried on the phone. I was sad they’d hurt her, but she’d hurt me, too.