by Lynne, Loni
“Who did this to you?” James demanded. His jaw tightened with the same rage April saw in his eyes.
“I don’t know. I couldn’t see anything.” She didn’t want to get him all riled up. Besides, how could anyone fight an invisible entity?
“You will not be alone in the house any more. I will be at your side at all times.” His fingers clenched into fists, turning the knuckles white. “I will set up a cot in your room to make sure you are safe at night.”
“You’ll do no such thing. This is ridiculous, James.” April rolled her eyes, trying to make light of the situation.
“Yes. Why set up a cot? You could just share the bed. It’s big enough,” Grandma Dottie smirked with a knowing look in her eyes.
“Mother!” Her mom gasped, peeking up from behind the large menu.
“Oh please, Virginia. She’s nearly thirty years old and I’m not getting any younger. I would like to see a great-grandchild someday before I move on. She’s definitely not a virgin anymore. Besides, no one her age is.” Dottie turned to James to explain the sexual relationships now.
April wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. She hid behind the menu, pretending deep interest in her choices of food as her grandmother gave her research subject details about sex after the age of the ‘sexual revolution.’ Even another ghostly encounter would be welcomed over her grandmother discussing sex with James Addison.
“I see. Well, things have changed a bit,” she could hear James say to her grandmother. Dear God, let the topic go away!
Thankfully God answered her prayers by sending the waitress back right then with their drinks. Unfortunately, James picked back up on the topic when the waitress left.
“This Jason person never asked for your hand in marriage though he took your innocence? Did your father not call him out?” James interrogated. He’d turned his body towards her, leaning casually on his elbow, with eyebrows raised as if he were a trial lawyer, and she was the nervous witness on the stand.
“Oh, Jason wasn’t her first,” Aunt Vickie added ever so helpfully. “Didn’t you and Scott Barnes take a trip up to the family cabin in Deep Creek Lake your freshman year at Frostburg?”
“Not now, Aunt Vickie,” April groaned, placing her head on the table and covering her ears as the two elderly sisters discussed her past sexual relationships as if she wasn’t even there.
Lifting her head from the Formica table top, April glared from her grandmother to her aunt. “Can we possibly talk about something else, like what we need to do now?”
James’s lips thinned into a grim line. Was he appalled by her past relationships? Did he think poorly of her now? Was he one of those types who held double-standards when it came to men and women and their sexual escapades? But then, it shouldn’t bother her. The more information he had, the more he could understand she wasn’t an innocent and could handle anything he might dish out when it came to sex.
The waitress blessedly broke the tension when she placed a basket of jams, margarine, and syrup in the middle of the table and took their order.
“Okay, back to the topic at hand,” her mother said, fixing her coffee. “We need to figure out what happened in the time frame April was up in her room.”
“I wasn’t up there for long, Mom, a couple of minutes at most.” April took a sip of her orange juice. “Just long enough to check my emails.”
Her grandmother shook her head cautiously. “No dear, you were up there much longer. From the time I told you to meet us downstairs to when your mother went up to get you—we’d been waiting for nearly fifteen minutes.”
Looking around the table and seeing the nods from the others she shook her head in denial. “Fifteen minutes, no. That’s impossible.”
“Did you notice anything at all? Could you see a different reality or sense a change in your surroundings?” Aunt Vickie asked.
“No, just the invisible box I seemed to be in and the sense of someone’s hands on my throat. I smelled rot and decay but, I don’t know, it could have been my imagination.”
Aunt Vickie nodded. “I say there was a warp in the realms.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions, Victoria, realms can’t manipulate time,” Grandma Dottie scoffed.
“No, but strong energy levels can,” April’s mother piped up.
All the other women looked to her as if she’d lost her mind. This wasn’t something Virginia Branford would offer up. She tended to avoid all talk of the paranormal.
“You two have told me for years how strong levels of spiritual energy can manifest into different realms from a ghostly perspective. Who’s to say April can’t do the same from this realm into the next?”
James snapped his fingers. “Perhaps this is what happened to you Sunday when you came out to the mill site, why my workers and I could see you in our past realm.”
“Excuse me?” April’s mother looked up from her coffee cup at James and then at April. “What is he talking about?” She looked for answers from the other two women yet they showed the same perplexed, inquisitive, what-didn’t-you-tell-us look in their eyes. “April May Branford—” her mother’s warning threatened to explode.
She hated it when her mother used her full name! It was never a good thing, and she was beyond getting caught with her hand in the cookie jar, especially in front of James.
Now she had four sets of eyes trained on her, waiting for her answer.
April sighed. “It was a fluke. I was exploring the property and had some allergy issues causing me to hallucinate—like I did that time in Jamestown,” she explained. “I got scared and as I was leaving witnessed a scene from James’s time. I didn’t think anything of it until he mentioned having been able to see me that day.” She wasn’t going to tell them about what she’d witnessed at the manor house ruins. They would go ballistic on her! Like they were about to go ballistic on her now.
“And when did you tell me about this?” Aunt Vickie asked with slight irritation. “I asked you to tell me everything, April. Everything is important in order to find out what your true gift is. You can’t discount anything, not a single iota of information.”
“I didn’t think it was really important at the time.” She looked up with remorse, knowing now what affect it might have. “I didn’t want you to think I was crazy or…”
“…or suffering from the family curse?” her mother added.
The other two women sighed with a hint of frustration.
“Well, I think we need to check out this mill site. I would like to get some readings on it, personally,” Aunt Vickie said to change the delicate subject.
Turning to James, April touched his hand. “Are you okay with going back there, James? I know it’s going to be different now the mill is no longer there.”
“It’s no longer there?” He looked around the table. “What happened to it?”
The women all looked to one another. “You don’t know?” Vickie asked.
He shook his head slowly, looking towards April. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. She really didn’t want to reveal the truth to him, but someone had to. “James, it burned down in a fire only a few weeks after your death. Everything was destroyed. No one knows how or why.”
He shook his head. “No. Daniel wouldn’t have let anything happen to the mill.”
Vickie reached over and patted his hand. “I know this is difficult for you to take in, James. Records show it happened during Sunday mass while everyone from the mill was in church…everyone except Daniel Smith. But he was never found in order to be brought in for questioning.”
“Ridiculous! Are you assuming Daniel had something to do—? No, not Daniel. I could imagine anyone but Daniel.” James’s finger punctuated his statement on the tabletop. “Daniel loved the mill as much as I did, even more at times.”
“There is no record stating who was accused of the crime. We can’t jump to conclusions, Aunt Vickie, anymore than to say James committed treason. Its hearsay and legend unti
l all the facts are in place.”
James’s hand tightened around her fingers. She looked worriedly into his eyes.
“I need to go there, April. I need to see what is left of my land now.”
***
The trip back to the manor ruins seemed quicker this time. Grandma Dottie walked over and read the marker. April knelt down to remove debris from the plaque. Looking up from her task, she noticed Aunt Vickie meditating. The older woman closed her eyes and placed her crystal to her brow, one of the most common chakra centers in the body in psychometry. She turned three-hundred and sixty degrees and began to walk trance-like into the overgrowth of field beyond. Not knowing what to do, never experiencing her aunt’s ability, April looked to her grandmother for guidance. A subtle nod told her to go ahead. Throwing the dead foliage to the side, she followed her aunt.
Watching her walk around with her eyes closed scared April. The woman could fall and break her hip or something. Her aunt didn’t seem at all bothered by her lack of sight and made her way through the tall grasses and weeds on her own as well as or better than most with their eyes opened. She was used to using all five physical senses; sight, touch, hearing, smell, and taste all working in conjunction with each other—or separately if needed. April tried to catch some essence of the spiritual world surrounding Vickie but gave up as she realized this wasn’t her gift. Instead, she quietly followed.
She didn’t want to speak and pull Aunt Vickie out of whatever hold possessed her, but she motioned for the others to follow. Her aunt walked uninhibited into the middle of the great field. Peace and contentment lined her face like a child enjoying the warmth of the sun bearing down on her. Then she stumbled, falling to her knees and clutching her head momentarily, in concentration. April wanted to help her but her grandmother stopped her with her hand, letting the moment pass.
“What did you see?” April asked looking around at their surroundings, hoping to see something to bring everything into perspective.
Her aunt looked up at her with a wan smile. “I don’t see anything, honey. You should know that.”
“What did you sense, Vickie?” Grandma asked, correcting the difference of Vickie’s gift.
“Calm, tranquility. And then—” She stopped speaking, her brow furrowed. Vickie rose to her feet and walked silently, without answering, to where James stood along the top of the knoll over-looking the rest of his fields. Side by side they let their eyes roam over the emptiness. April and the rest of the women followed, confused.
“What do you see?” April whispered as she touched James’s arm,
He looked down at her, a small frown knotting his brow. “Nothing anymore. Just barren fields.”
“You don’t see them?”
“You don’t hear them?”
Her mother and grandmother spoke at the same time.
Dottie gasped, “Why, there are people out there working the fields!” She laughed with surprise.
“And they’re singing!” Her mother actually appeared delighted.
April had never seen such joy on her mother’s face at witnessing her gift. Most of the time when her mother experienced the slightest paranormal condition, she left the scene or went into immediate panic, knowing the migraines would follow. This time she stood there, on the knoll, listening with great pleasure. Her eyes were closed, and her face tipped contentedly towards the field. “Well yes, they did sing a good deal. It helped to pass the time.” James shrugged.
“What do you see or feel, April?” he asked, gazing down at her.
“Nothing.” She shook her head sadly, wishing she could participate and listen to their songs.
“Don’t feel bad, dear,” Aunt Vickie patted her hand. “I’m sensing this isn’t where you need to be. You’re needed…elsewhere…” she trailed off. Vickie turned towards the northeast and nodded. “Come with me.”
Being gently pulled by her aunt in the direction of the manor house ruins, April followed. She didn’t want to go back there but without a great deal of explanation she didn’t have much choice. Panic set in. Would it happen again? Would she feel the heat of the stone foundation? Part of her wanted to see if she did. Would she see the same scene?
“There’s something here. I feel a strong entity. More than one. I’m getting a sense of urgency, frantic. There are three souls involved in a chaotic event.”
She didn’t remember anything of the sort. There had been only two entities, a woman and a man but if someone else was there, she hadn’t picked up on them.
“I smell smoke…a fire perhaps.” Vickie walked closer to the foundation. She stopped at the edge. “I sense someone needing your help.”
Aunt Vickie closed her eyes momentarily and when she opened them she looked to April almost accusingly. “You know what you need to do. I sense you’ve already been here, come to your true gift—they need you. It’s up to you whether you want to help them or cause them to forever linger in their eternal nightmare.”
If this had been last week, April would think her aunt crazy. Now, she knew what the woman was telling her. She’d been through too much not to know.
Trembling on the edge of uncertainty April looked from the foundation ruins to her aunt. The older woman stared at her with sad acceptance. April knew she had to make the right choice. She hoped she was strong enough to make it.
Was she more her mother’s child? Afraid of her gift, whatever it was supposed to be? She needed to accept it. If not for herself, then for James or the two images she witnessed. Were they not flesh and blood people at one time? Didn’t they still have an emotional conscious?
But she didn’t want to go through the agony of what transpired the other day. Seeing those two people burn and not being able to do anything to save them…how could she help them now?
April found herself nodding to her aunt and lowered herself back down into the stone foundation. Sweat prickled her palms. Her heart throbbed erratically within the confines of her ribs. Nausea rose to her throat but she moved on, trying to locate the area of the wall she touched before. Would it matter?
Aunt Vickie nodded down at her. Okay, she would hold out her hand and see what happened. Maybe this time she would get lucky and nothing would.
Touching the stone, the heat hit her full force. This wasn’t the gradual heat exchange like before. Her hand stayed there. April expected to see the scene exactly as she remembered. Instead a fight was in progress. A burley man, dressed in clothes of a colonial dandy, materialized swinging a spade at a younger man dressed in simple working linens. The young man moved out of the way just as the shovel swiped where his head had been only seconds before.
The larger man, angered at the miss, threw the shovel to the side and took a dive at the smaller man, straight into his solar plexus. The two men fell against the wall. The big brute grabbed the other man’s throat with his hands and pounded his head into the stone foundation. April flinched and squinted against the gruesome vision.
Out of the edges of the scene a young woman leaped onto the older man’s back, beating him with her tiny fists. Determined to do harm, the woman continued to pummel him with everything she possessed. Her hair flew about her in wild disarray as the man tried to shake her off, like a wet dog shedding water. Looking from them to the other man, April could see he was unconscious—was he dead? She couldn’t tell. She couldn’t remove her hand from the wall to get a closer look.
Her thoughts of saving the man were interrupted when the woman ended up tossed near her feet. A strong scent of lilac filled April’s senses. The man approached them in a menacing stance, his mouth opened in a yell, but no sound came out. It was as if April were watching a movie on mute. Subtle movement from the prone man’s body caught the looming brute’s attention.
The distraction was enough to let the woman glance at her. She could see her! Her ghostly fingers worked frantically, toying with the trinkets pinned to her apron pocket, trying to communicate as if April were a part of the scene. The woman held the intricately ca
rved piece of jewelry out to her, showing her the detailed design. It was difficult to make out. What was it? Could it possibly be a chatelaine? What did she want her to do with it? What could she do?
Sighing, the woman stopped and waited, turning her head and closing her eyes tightly from the scene happening behind her. April looked up to see the wild man pick up the spade, and with sickening accuracy, bring it down upon the other man’s unsuspecting head. There would have been no way to survive such cruelty.
The lilac scent was so strong now. The woman knelt before her. She opened her eyes, pleading with her, as tears streamed down her cheeks. Did the woman know what was going to happen? Was that why she was trying to communicate with her? This wasn’t a residual haunting then. Dear God was she actually an active participant in another realm of history?
April’s stomach knotted. She turned her attention to the woman who in a last ditch effort, yanked the delicate chain from her apron, and threw it towards her. Instinctively, April held out her free hand to catch it, but there was nothing but air. This was only an image, nothing tangible. The woman closed her eyes again in defeat, buried her face in her hands, and waited as if she knew what was to come.
The man approached them. Anger poured off of him like sweat. His meaty hands grabbed the woman, but his eyes strayed towards April. A brief moment of shock when he noticed her presence crossed his features before giving in to a foul sneer. His beady-eyed stare never left April as he forced the blonde woman over to the opposite wall.
Crying out, April tried with all her might to pull away from whatever held her against the stone wall. She knew what was going to happen. She’d seen it the other day. But how could she help an image of history long since past? She couldn’t stop the inevitable from taking place. But she didn’t want to witness the horrible scene again.
“Damn it, Aunt Vickie! Bring her back!” Her mother yelled in what sounded like a pool of deep water.
“Be gone!” Her aunt’s voice echoed in the far recesses of her mind.
Chapter Eleven