Ghost Haste

by ReGina Welling

  Except that the minute Amber had heard where I was going, she lit out of my place like her hair was on fire. Probably scared Kat would send her into the light whether she wanted to go or not. I drained my tea—which surprisingly helped settle my stomach—and set the cup back down on its saucer. All my hopes for definitive answers deflated like a pin-poked balloon.

  “If that’s all there is to say on the matter, I guess I’ll get out of your hair. Come, Molly.” I pushed back my chair, and the whole room chilled.

  “Everly Dupree, you sit right back down in that chair and show this nice young lady some respect.”

  My grandmother’s voice coming out of Kat’s mouth sucked the strength right out of my legs, and I wasn’t left with any choice in the matter. I didn’t trust my knees not to wobble, and I couldn’t have stood up if I’d wanted to. I also couldn’t think in coherent sentences, much less speak them.

  The moment passed before I had a chance to say anything, anyway.

  “Grandmothers,” Kat said with some acerbity. “Do they ask permission first? No, they just pop up, take over, have their say, and then off they go, without so much as a thank you.”

  “If that ever happened to me, I’d—” I wasn’t sure what I’d do, but I figured peeing my pants might make the top of the list. “You know what? No. I can’t do this. No offense, but I don’t want to be like you. I mean, you seem nice enough, and you’re not a flake or anything, but I can’t do that. What you just did. I can’t.”

  I knew I was babbling and saying things that weren’t all that nice, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

  “Nope.” I shook my head. “You have to help me make it go away. There has to be a way to make it stop. Leandra did once, but then I used that stupid Ouija board, and now I’m screwed, right?”

  The doorbell ringing about five times finally cut off the spate of foolishness.

  “That’ll be the cavalry.” She smiled at me on her way to open the door, which made me feel lower than I already did for making the flake comment, and I vowed to staple my mouth shut before anything stupid came out of it again.

  And then I nearly broke that promise when a fairy-like vision in purple appeared before me.

  “Hi,” the vision said in a voice too deep to match her diminutive size. “I’m Amethyst.”

  “Uh, I’m Everly.”

  “I was wondering,” Kat said, “if you could take a look at Everly, and tell us what you see.”

  Amethyst raised an eyebrow dyed a delicate shade of lavender to match the slant of her blunt-cut hair. “Is that okay with you?” She said to me.

  I glanced over at Kat, who nodded reassurance, though I wasn’t sure precisely for what. “Sure, I guess. Unless looking at me is a euphemism for something weird.”

  “Weird is in the eye of the beholder.” Amethyst’s answer inspired no confidence. “All I’m going to do is read your aura.” Leandra would have had a field day with this. Maybe I’d make an appointment for her next birthday.

  “Okay, do your worst.”

  But look at me is all she did. First with her head tilted to the left, then to the right. Then she asked me to stand in front of a blank wall in Kat’s reading room, and she looked at me some more. I felt like a bug under a microscope.

  Finally, Amethyst said, “Do you mind if I just—” She sounded distracted and began to pluck at the air around me. It might have been my imagination, but I thought I felt little tugs in my body each time she did. A change in tension. The looking and plucking went on for quite some time.

  “You’re carrying a lot right now, aren’t you? Why don’t you tell me about it?”

  Normally, I would never dump my troubles in a stranger, but then, a stranger isn’t usually elbows deep in my aura. I spilled everything to her, much as I had to Kat, only with a lot more detail. Blurted it all out in a long rush that was part rant, part revelation. Everything from finding Paul in bed with Reva to feeling the cold specter of Felicity in the shop to Winston and my complete lack of wanting to help him into the light. I ended up with the worry that I was somehow the catalyst for dead bodies popping up left and right.

  Amethyst kept on grooming my aura during the process, and by the end, I felt husked out and somehow lighter than I had in months.

  Until Kat handed me a tissue, I didn’t realize I’d been crying. Or that two other women had quietly entered the house and heard at least some part of, if not my entire story.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to Kat. “You must have had other appointments for the day, and I’ve gone way over my time. I’ll get Molly and get out of your hair right now.” I’d nearly forgotten the real reason I’d come, and to be honest, I wasn’t even sure I wanted answers anymore. Being haunted wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to me over the past few months.

  And there’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.

  “Molly.” I glanced around for my dog and started to stand to leave.

  “Everly!” Kat must have said my name more than once to get my attention. “Please, don’t go. I don’t have any appointments besides you today. These are my friends. This is Julie,” she pointed toward a pert blond woman with kind eyes.

  “Nice to meet you.” I smiled at her halfheartedly.

  Then Kat pointed toward a spot on my left, “And that’s Gustavia.”

  I turned to see my dog sprawled across the floor with her head in the lap of a woman with a cheerful face and fashion sense that made it hard to take her in all at once. My brain could only process the chaos in stages.

  “Uh, hi.” To be fair, I’m sure Gustavia got that reaction a lot. Her attention, though, was all for Molly as she cooed and gave the dog’s belly a scratch.

  My first good look at her registered a flowing skirt in a wash of blues and greens with a dark, figured pattern overlay. By itself, the filmy skirt wasn’t anything unique, but she’d paired it with a hot pink top under a lime green vest that peeked through a confetti of beaded necklaces.

  It’s not polite to stare. This I know, and yet, I couldn’t seem to drag my gaze away from her face, topped as it was by a nest of twisted and braided hair. A literal nest, I mean. Just a small one with a tiny bird perched on the edge and an even smaller crystal egg in the center.

  Kat caught me looking and let out a tinkling laugh. “For Gustavia, this is a toned-down look.” When my eyebrows shot up, she laughed again. So did Amethyst and Julie.

  “I wear only that which gives me joy.” Gustavia defended her fashion choices with a grin. “Today seemed like a hatch-y sort of day. I think maybe the universe was telling me I’d be helping someone come out of their shell.”

  I didn’t realize she meant me until she plucked the hairpin with the crystal egg attached to it from her hair and reached up to hand it to me. “With everything you’ve gone through, it would be easy to close off your heart. Don’t do that, okay?”

  There was nothing else to do but slide the hairpin into place, and I have to admit, I felt better for being the subject of such kindness. I’d opened up a lot of old wounds during my blurt, and Gustavia reminded me a little of Jacy. Comforting and kind. Put the two of them together, and things might get dangerous. Or at least colorful.

  After exchanging meaningful looks, Kat and Amethyst left the room.

  “I know what you’re going through,” Julie said into the silence they left behind. “It wasn’t that long ago when I had my little ghostly encounter, but everything turned out well enough for me. I’m sure it will be the same for you.”

  A spear of hope flared inside of me. “You’ve seen ghosts?”

  Gustavia started to speak, but Julie pointed a finger at her. “No, it’s my story. I get to tell it.”

  “You never let me have any fun.” Gustavia’s smile belied her words, and she seemed content enough to stay seated on the floor with Molly while I took a seat opposite Julie, who launched into her tale.

  “It happened right here,” she began. “Someone thought a visit to a psychic would be a good engag
ement gift.” The way her eyes cut to Gustavia, I had no trouble figuring out who that someone had been. “My grandmother came through, and it really freaked me out. I thought that was the end of the madness, but later that night, she popped back up at home, and she wasn’t alone. She brought my great grandfather with her so he could reveal a family secret that completely turned my life around.”

  With Gustavia chiming in, Julie spun a story worthy of being made into a book. Or even a series of them. As I listened to them tell me about how the ghosts of Julie’s grandparents had guided her through finding the secrets hidden in her house, my ghostly experiences seemed far more commonplace. I asked few questions until the end.

  “And that was it? You don’t see ghosts anymore?”

  “No, that’s Kat’s specialty—and don’t let her fool you with this Madame Zephyr business, she’s the real deal. Kat uses her abilities to help police solve cold cases, and she occasionally gets called in on some of the hot ones, too. You can trust her.”

  Of course, her friends would say that, but I didn’t think Julie was lying. I’d have told her so if Kat and Amethyst hadn’t returned at that moment. Their solemn faces set my guts jumping again.

  “Just tell me if I’m going to be perpetually haunted, okay?” I said. “I’d rather know the worst than keep guessing.”

  “It’s complicated,” Kat said. “Those with the gift of clairvoyance, or clear sight, can see spirits who have fully transitioned. Ghosts—or spirits who have not crossed over—can and often do reveal themselves to the sightless, but it costs them a lot of energy to overcome the barrier between this world and the next. This is where the idea of ghosts being filmy and white comes in.”

  “Like in the movies.” Gustavia fidgeted with one of the many rings she wore.

  “Okay,” I drew the word out long. “And by crossing over, you mean going into the light?”

  Kat nodded her encouragement. “That’s exactly right.”

  I was beginning to understand. Or I hoped I was. “Once they’ve gone into the light, I never see them again, but the ones I do see don’t look like movie ghosts at all. They look like everyone else with maybe a little blur around the edges, and they hover a little sometimes. Plus, they’re creepy to touch.” I shivered just thinking about it.

  “Seeing that clearly is normally a sign of someone with a high degree of ability.”

  “Well, you know, I always say if you’re going to do something, you should commit to it a hundred percent.” I let out some of my nerves as sarcasm. “Maybe I should make a conscious effort to half-ass a few things, though. Might make my life easier.”

  Gustavia snorted indelicately. “I like you. You’re funny.”

  She thought I was joking. I wasn’t so sure I was.

  Kat had ended her sentence in such a way I knew there was a but coming.

  “But—” I prompted.

  “But as far as I can tell, you weren’t born with enough of the gift of sight to show up as even a blip on my radar.”

  “What does that mean?” Gustavia prompted. “I mean, I know someone can be born with the ability, but isn’t it possible to develop a sixth sense later in life?”

  Amethyst and Kat exchanged a look, but Kat answered readily. “Many people are born sensitive, but for one reason or another, some are able to block their own abilities for a period of time. That didn’t work out so well for me, but others manage with more success. Even if they do start to acknowledge their gift later in life, they had it all along.”

  While that fact was interesting, it didn’t answer the question, and I knew there was yet another but coming.

  “But the chances of someone who has no inherent talent suddenly becoming a full sensitive,” Amethyst said and nodded toward me, “I would say happens only under extenuating circumstances.”

  Kat took over the narrative. “Sometimes, a near-death experience will open the third eye, and there are certain drugs that can do the same. At least temporarily. I don’t recommend either of those things, and we already know that’s not what happened with you.”

  “No,” I shook my head. “It’s not.”

  Her mouth settling into a straight line, Amethyst waved a finger at me. “Your friend shouldn’t have been messing with things she doesn’t understand.”

  “Leandra meant well.” I defended the woman who was like a second mother to me, even though she’d brought a world of annoyance into my life. “All she did was rub some oil and ashes on my forehead. She was trying to help.”

  “I don’t understand how ashes and oil could turn Everly into a medium.” Looking intrigued, Gustavia gently slid out from under my sleeping dog to take a seat on the sofa. “Do you remember exactly what it was she used?”

  “No.” Julie laughed and held up a hand. “Don’t answer that. If you do, she’ll start dousing herself with oil and rolling around in the fireplace. Gustavia has enough talents already. She doesn’t need to start taking in stray ghosts. She’d end up with a houseful.”

  Eyes flashing, Gustavia opened her mouth to offer a retort, then paused, pursed her lips, and twisted them to the side. “I hate to say it, but you’re probably right. I’d better leave the ghost wrangling to the professionals. I’d still like to know how it worked, though.”

  “That’s easy enough.” Amethyst left the room to return with a bottle of cooking oil in one hand and a frosted glass candle holder minus the candle.

  “Imagine this glass was covering your eye. You might see different shades of light through it, maybe even a shadow or two, but mostly, you’ll see just the white glass.” She drizzled oil on the frosted surface and used her fingers to rub it around. “But just do this,” when she held it up again, the frosted surface had turned clear enough to see through. “And look what happens.”

  Out of reflex, my fingers found the spot on my forehead where Leandra had applied the oils. “If it’s that simple, anyone could do it.”

  Having settled next to me, Kat reached over to gently squeeze my other hand. “It’s not, actually.”

  “No,” Amethyst said. “You experienced the perfect storm. There was a newly-minted ghost already attached to you, and then when your friend misheard her spirit guides, she blended his energy with yours, added an amplifier to the oils, and had just enough natural healing power to open up a one-way channel right to your third eye. As a result, she’s altered your aura beyond my ability to repair it, and while she might not have meant you any harm, she certainly hasn’t done you any favors.”

  She asked a lot of questions, made me go over the details from finding Hudson’s body to when his ghost appeared, and everything she heard strengthened her supposition.

  Because of the way he’d died, Hudson hadn’t crossed into the light, and since I’d been the one to find him, he’d latched his energy onto mine in the hope of finding someone who could help him.

  It had been his distress more than mine that Leandra had sensed that day when she’d smeared on the oil and ashes, but I was still the one who paid the price for her meddling. She’d left me with a ghost problem and a damaged aura.

  “You can’t blame it all on her, though, because she did manage to fix her mistake temporarily. I'm the one who picked the aura scab by using the Ouija board. But I didn’t have a choice. My friend was in danger, and now, I guess I’m a medium.” Since I still needed clarity on the finer points of how this all worked, I let my voice go up a little to make the statement almost a question.

  “Not quite.” Kat laughed, presumably at the dread in my tone, though I hadn’t meant any offense.

  “Then what am I?”

  Kat and Amethyst exchanged another look. “Ghost whisperer?” Amethyst offered.

  “More like a ghost magnet,” Kat corrected.

  Great.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “THAT WAS QUITE the trip, wasn’t it?” I said to Molly as we passed the sign welcoming us back to Mooselick River. As always, Molly had no opinion.

  Amber did, and I jumped when sh
e appeared in the seat next to me. “Waste of time if you ask me.”

  “Really? Why’s that?”

  “Nothing changed, did it? You still see ghosts; I’m living proof of that.”

  “Living?” I snorted. “Not quite.”

  “Fine, I’m dead proof. Nitpick the terminology if you must, but I’m here, and I assume Winston’s whirling around in the ether somewhere waiting to take another crack at you.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Talking to Kat and her friends had eased my mind more than Amber could have done, but I didn’t bother telling her that. She wouldn’t appreciate the comparison and was likely to drop the temperature inside the car by twenty degrees if I annoyed her.

  “But I still want to see if Felicity is really hanging around the shop. She must have used a lot of energy trying to contact me, given our tenuous connection.” According to Amethyst, Nick had probably drawn Felicity’s attention to me and served as some sort of conduit. If she appeared, I hoped to ask her if that had been the case.

  “I’ll help.”

  Whoops. I’d walked right into that one, and by the time I’d parked in the darkened lot behind Curated Collections, I hadn’t come up with a graceful way to walk back out of it, so I dug out my spare key.

  On the first day of Kindergarten, Jacy had walked up to me, taken my hand, and declared she would be my friend forever. A prediction that had proved correct so far, and yet, I hadn’t known about her deep desire to own a second-hand shop.

  She’d kept that one to herself until the day we’d found Catherine Willowby’s secret treasure trove in the addition tacked onto the back of my house. It seemed the two women shared a passion for collecting, only Catherine had less interest in reselling than in creating pieces of art out of old things.

  Having read some of Catherine’s diaries since then, I’d come to understand that in exploring her artistic whims, she was looking for a balm to soothe an aching loss. While Paul hadn’t been the kind of husband to me that Basil had been to Catherine, I identified with her need to recreate a sense of self after his death. Jacy identified with her need to take something old and give it new life.