Haunted Gracefield

by M. L. Bullock

  “Sure, Mr. Cannon. Let me put my things away and call my husband. Be back in ten minutes.” I waved my fingers at them and dragged my suitcase to the elevator.

  As I stepped inside and tapped the button, the elevator shifted and carried me to the fourth floor.

  I prayed the whole way.

  Chapter Twelve—Kendal

  “Fine dining, Mrs. Starlett. It has been too long since I enjoyed such a feast,” Mr. Wade complimented me again. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the level of attention our guest bestowed upon me. Derry did not seem to notice, which only made matters worse for me. I desperately wanted him to feel something—whether jealousy or anger, I did not care.

  “I cannot take credit for any of this. Cadence makes all our meals, even breakfast. She is a talented cook.” Among other things. The truth was that I had grown quite jealous of the woman in the months I had been here. I should not feel jealousy of a servant, but I could not help myself. Yes, I felt jealous because Cadence had known Derry for so long, and there were times I sensed that deeper feelings had passed between them.

  Surely not in an intimate way. Surely not.

  Derry had been devoted to Grace until she died. Fell off the balcony.

  Derry raised his near-empty glass in my direction. “As my wife, and the lady of the house, you are responsible for every meal. Mr. Wade has every right to compliment you. It was an elegant dinner.”

  “If you must give me compliments, then I will accept them. But you should know the real truth, Mr. Wade. Cadence is the real lady of the house. Once in a while, she allows me to peel a carrot.” I snorted, and the sound of it surprised me. The wine warmed my cheeks and ears. My ears always turned bright red whenever I took more than a few sips. Derry appeared aggravated by my bold statement, but he did not notice the effect the wine had on me. He never noticed the flushing or my sparkling eyes. The wine had affected me so that I could practically feel my eyes sparkling. But Mr. Wade noticed, and he smiled knowingly. Yes, he noticed everything. I felt as if his eyes were brushing against my skin now, and I reddened all the more.

  “My wife has a humble spirit, Mr. Wade. Let me say on behalf of both of us, thank you for postponing your journey west to lend us your talents. It was a stroke of luck, my meeting you like I did. Pour us another glass, Mrs. Starlett,” Derry said, his red lips shiny in the candlelight. I rose to pour the wine, but Mr. Wade refused another glass. Derry touched my hands and examined them. I was beginning to think my husband was drunk. How could he be drunk on a mere two glasses of wine? “Such lovely hands. Did you know that besides being a wonderful cook, my wife is a musician? When she plays, the angels of heaven take notice. It’s like music from another world.”

  Mr. Wade leaned forward and grinned at my husband. “Surely not in comparison to the music of heaven, Mr. Starlett. One should never make such boasts. Heaven might frown on such notions.”

  Derry grinned back. “You haven’t heard this music, Mr. Wade. Please, Kendal. Play for us. Show Mr. Wade how heavenly you are, dear.”

  Before I could say no or make some other excuse, Mr. Wade interjected, “You really play? You are a woman of hidden talents, I think. But I do not see a piano, and I think I have visited nearly every room. You do not have a piano hidden somewhere, do you?”

  Derry gulped his wine and put the empty glass on the table. “Kendal plays the violin, Mr. Wade. She comes from a musical family, a much better family than mine. Musically speaking, of course.” I frowned at his veiled insult. Derry always thought his family line was better than mine even though he did not say so directly. Again I wondered why he married me.

  “If it pleases you,” I said in a terse voice absent of a smile. The warm euphoria from the wine vanished. A few minutes later, I was sitting in front of the fireplace and the light from the flames bounced around the room. I could hear Cadence in the dining room clearing the dinner dishes. She caught my eye through the open door for a second and then looked away. She must have overheard my indirect criticism of her, but it did not worry me. Cadence could not speak to me, even if she wanted to. She’d had her tongue cut out long ago; that’s what Derry told me when I first arrived at Gracefield. I had never heard of anything as horrific as having one’s tongue cut out. Even though I did not like the woman, I felt a deep sympathy for her situation. Who would do such a thing?

  Mr. Wade slung his arm over the back of the wooden chair. He reminded me of a large, sleek black cat. The kind that was very good at catching mice. Were we mice? Derry closed his eyes, whether from the wine or in anticipation of my music, I could not say. I knew what he wanted to hear, but I wouldn’t play that piece tonight. Instead, I played a forlorn tune, one I had learned at a very young age. I rarely played this particular song, as it was one from my personal treasury. I usually only played it when I was unhappy. It had a long, lulling tune, the kind that wooed your soul into the treetops and then as quickly dropped you to the ground when it was done with you. I let the music rise and fall; in and out I breathed. I kept my back straight and my arm fluid as I found the notes easily enough. At the conclusion of my performance, Derry rose to his feet and clapped his hands. Mr. Wade followed suit, his blue eyes shining brilliantly like the glassware on the table beside him. Yes, he did look a dangerous thing. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen, and I had not lived a sheltered life. I reminded myself that I was a married woman.

  “Come, dear wife. We have kept our guest up too late, and he is leaving us in the morning.”

  “Is he? You’ve only been with us a few days, Mr. Wade. Is your work then completed on the wing?” I asked as I placed my violin and bow back in the case and closed it carefully.

  “As it turns out, your husband had everything in hand. I contributed a few things, but as I say, Mr. Starlett had most everything sorted out. In fact, I cannot for the life of me understand why you brought me here, sir.”

  It was a question he appeared to want an answer to, but my husband did not offer further explanation. Exactly what was going on here? The air crackled with tension, but neither man offered to explain anything to me.

  “I must ride for Bogalusa, Mrs. Starlett. The new Mr. and Mrs. Sutherland have plans to build a new home and start a family. There is nothing like the excitement of a newly married couple,” he said as he bowed to me slightly. Derry was growing impatient by all this, but he didn’t insert himself into the conversation.

  “And yet you have no wife yourself? Or do you, Mr. Wade?” I could not believe I had the courage to ask a question like that. It must have been the wine that made me bold.

  “I have not been blessed to find my own wife, no. However, I have hope, especially when I see the two of you so happily wed. If you will excuse me, I will retire for the evening. Thank you again for the wonderful dinner and the exquisite song. I will see you in the morning, Mr. Starlett. We can put things to right then.”

  Put things to right?

  “Good night, then,” my husband said, his speech slurred as he reached for the empty bottle of wine.

  “You have drunk it all, Derry. Come, husband. Let’s go to bed. It is very late.” I put my arm around his shoulders, but he was not having any of it.

  “I need more wine. Cadence!” he yelled at the servant and waited for her to come tend to his needs. So he rejected me, again. I was not going to wait around to watch him drink himself stupid. I left him alone and went to my room to prepare for bed. In our house, my husband rarely visited my bedroom, though sometimes he came to my bed to sleep. But that was all we did—sleep.

  Except for that first night, that painful, terrifying night. But it was that night only, although I longed to be loved by him again. It was what married people were supposed to do; I knew that much from Mary.

  “If you want to drink yourself to death, it is no concern of mine,” I mumbled, but he did not hear me. With my violin case clutched in my hands, I left the parlor and went upstairs to my own room. I did not cry, for I had options. I would not stay in this far
ce of a marriage. If Derry did not want to treat me as his wife, then I would go. That’s what I thought, but when my anger abated, I missed him. I changed my clothing, without anyone’s help. And to think Derry was downstairs with Cadence. Probably toying with her dark hair, rubbing her brown skin. Loving her and her silent soul.

  I couldn’t imagine what she thought about me. Neither did I care, really. He had come to find me, meet me. I would never have known about him if not for his visit to the symphony hall that night. Yes, I loved him now, but Cadence had obviously loved him for a long time. Why else would she look at him like that? With love and longing. I waited and waited for Derry’s footsteps in the hallway. I was not skilled at seduction, but I would do whatever I had to do to make him forget poor, dead Grace. And maybe also Cadence.

  I waited for hours and dozed off a few times. Each time I woke up, I hurried to the door and peeked out. No sign of Derry yet, but it was possible that he had gone to his room without my notice. I would just have to go to him if he would not come to me. He was my husband, and I was his wife. He had no reason to feel ashamed. Such couplings were expected of us. That was how children were begotten, and I desperately wanted children. I hurried across the room; the wooden floor nearly froze my naked feet. My thin white nightgown did not adequately protect me from the absolute cold that permeated my body. This was the same gown I wore for our wedding night. It was hard to believe that was only three months ago.

  Derry was nowhere to be found. “Derry? Where are you?” I suddenly felt eyes staring at me. Someone watched me, and it was now so cold I could barely breathe. I heard a sound in the front courtyard. Who would be out there this time of night? Rubbing my arms with my hands and tiptoeing to the window, I spied Derry. What was he doing? Derry!

  He was on his horse and gone from Gracefield before I could open the window. I felt so utterly cold that it made me sick. That’s when I heard someone behind me. The presence towered over me, and I had the sensation that whoever this was wanted to consume me, erase me. Kill me. If I’d had any doubt about what I sensed, it was quickly eradicated because the shadow pressed against me. It pushed me hard and pinned me against the window glass. I didn’t breathe, didn’t move. Didn’t fight. Could this be Mr. Wade? Cadence? I could not see anyone in the glass. It was too dark, and I was too close to the glass.

  I heard a voice in my ear. It spoke one word.

  Leave.

  I didn’t breathe while the presence held me. The ominous pressure dissipated and once it left me, I fell to the floor and covered my mouth with my hand to smother the screams.

  Chapter Thirteen—Lily

  “I tell you what, Lily. If we don’t find Super Bear, we’ll just go to the toy store and buy another one. Easy peasy. I understand how attached you were to her, but I can’t make her appear.” I didn’t know what to say to Uncle Ashland. Was he telling me that he’d given up looking for Super Bear? “I used to love my blue dog, my favorite stuffed animal, but things happen. Sometimes we misplace things, even things we treasure.”

  “No,” was my answer, but nobody heard me. No, as in we weren’t quitting. I couldn’t quit looking. I had to find my Super Bear. Who else would protect me at night when the Thing Under the Bed reached for me or Dad wanted to show me his bloody head?

  “Who wants to go to the toy store?” Uncle Ashland clapped his hands at the end of his question, but I wanted no part of his plan. Didn’t he understand how unique and wonderful Super Bear was? Didn’t he know how much I loved her? Needed her? It did not look like it. Buying another bear would not replace the one that I knew and loved. And there was the bigger problem of the Thing Under the Bed. If the Thing Under the Bed could steal Super Bear, it could steal AJ because he was small. Much smaller than me. It could probably get me, too. It might even grab Uncle Ashland and make him disappear.

  “I don’t want another bear. I want mine. She’s lost, and we have to find her! Please, help me find her!”

  Uncle Ashland’s face froze as he glanced from me to AJ. He asked my cousin for the third time, “Do you have Lily’s bear, AJ? Did you hide it somewhere? Tell me the truth now and you won’t be in trouble.”

  My cousin played with his truck and ignored us. He was listening, but he’d been spinning the truck’s plastic wheels for a good two minutes.

  “AJ, fess up, son. Did you take Lily’s bear?”

  That caught his attention. His big blue eyes were wide as if to say, Who, me? My little cousin was great at getting out of trouble with those eyes, but I didn’t think he had anything to do with my toy’s disappearance. No way could he sneak in that room and take her off that windowsill. No way could he have done that. He wasn’t very quiet and was kind of clumsy like most little kids were.

  “Tell me the truth, son. We’ve been all over this house; we’ve looked in every room—even in the car. The bear didn’t just walk off.”

  Didn’t just walk off? Uncle Ashland sounded exactly like Aunt Carrie Jo. Did they think I had something to do with stealing my own bear? My stomach was in knots, and my forehead was sweaty. I didn’t feel so well, but I sure didn’t want to go hide in my room. Before Dad and the Thing Under the Bed began scaring me at night, my room was the most perfect place in the world. I had lots of pink and purple things, like a thick purple rug and pretty pink curtains. I had markers, so many markers, and stickers and everything I loved. Even a stack of books to read. But I barely spent any time in there anymore.

  “No, Daddy. I no take it.”

  Uncle Ashland was clearly getting frustrated with the two of us, but I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t know what to say; all I knew was my bear was missing.

  “Enough with the baby talk, son. Are you saying you didn’t take the bear?”

  “Not me,” my cousin said as he began rolling the truck on the floor.

  “When was the last time you saw the bear?”

  I stomped my foot and plopped on the couch next to him. “I told you already. I told you the truth.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Lily. I have searched everywhere—even in the backyard. If you don’t want to get a new one, then I guess we’ll just have to wait until Aunt Carrie Jo comes home. Maybe she’ll have some idea as to where you left it.”

  “I didn’t leave it,” I sassed under my breath, but he did not challenge me. Uncle Ashland sighed like he was all out of air and patience. He flipped on the television for AJ and me.

  “I’m going to cook supper. Do you think you can keep an eye on your cousin?” And not lose him like you lost Super Bear? I knew what he was saying to me. I know that he believed I had lost the bear. Uncle Ashland did not wait for my answer. He was on his feet like someone had pinched him. He stared at the open door. I thought I saw something moving out the corner of my eye, but I apparently hadn’t looked fast enough. Oh yes, there had been something there. AJ glanced up from his truck but only for a few seconds. I held my breath wondering if maybe somehow, the Thing Under the Bed had found its way out of my room? Maybe. Anything was possible in this big house. Seven Sisters was like a magical place but not like the playground. Spooky things happened here.

  After Midas and Cassidy left, the spooky things had stopped for a while. But Uncle Ashland and I knew that the spooky things had not stopped forever. Maybe it was one of the ghosts from outside that came in here? Maybe it was just that and not the horrible thing that stole my marbles and my favorite bear. I watched from the couch and clutched a soft pillow as Uncle Ashland walked out into the hallway to have a look around. After a minute of not finding anything, he shrugged his shoulders and gave me an awkward smile. He did not admit that he’d seen anything, but I knew that he had because I’d almost seen it too. Strange things were happening. I suddenly wished I was old enough to have a cell phone because I would call Aunt Carrie Jo and ask her to come home right now. Right this second. She was the person that kept everything in order. She kept everything good. Uncle Ash tried, but he was freaked out and it was never good for the adult to be fre
aked out. Only the kids were supposed to freak out.

  “I’m going to get supper started. Be back in a few minutes.” It wasn’t a question that required an answer, so I just stared at my uncle. He disappeared down the hallway, and I collapsed on the couch to watch the stupid cartoon with AJ.

  Soon my eyes felt droopy. Despite my aversion to naps, I napped a little before dinner. It felt good in the Blue Room. It was so empty and full of sunshine. Empty as in there was nothing here except two living kids watching television. I dreaded going to bed. I dreaded facing the thing in the room. But I would have to do that after supper or tell my uncle everything. That’s what Dad wanted, he wanted someone to know what happened to him, but I didn’t want anyone to know that I was an orphan. I was so afraid that I’d have to live in an orphanage away from my family, my new family…that was the worst thing I could imagine. And I could imagine a lot of bad things.

  “Supper,” I heard Uncle Ashland’s voice in my sleepy brain. AJ took off, and I followed him as I wiped the drool from the side of my mouth.

  I didn’t like sloppy Joes, but I kind of felt sorry for my uncle. He was working really hard to keep things in order while Aunt CJ was gone dream hunting. They never said that’s what it was, but I knew what it was. Yep. That was us. A bunch of dream hunters, except Uncle Ash. He just saw ghosts. By the time dinner was through, AJ was covered in sloppy Joe sauce. I’d been a bit neater, but it was still all over my hands. I offered to help with the dishes, but my uncle told me to go upstairs and get my bath started. He was busy cleaning my cousin’s hands in the sink and forgot all about me. That meant I had to go upstairs by myself. Upstairs alone with Dad and the Thing. I walked up the stairs as slowly as possible. I didn’t want to be up here at all, but I really had no choice. I counted out loud as I went.