A Gift of Time (Tassamara)

by Sarah Wynde

  His eyes glinted with amusement. “If her first words are damn it, we’ll know who to blame.”

  She scowled at him. He bent down to pick up the container as he grinned back at her. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” He handed her the dish. In his other hand, he held a few pieces of papers—selected drawings, she assumed, from the pile Kenzi had created in the past days. “Have you seen these?”

  She finished storing the leftovers, craning her neck to see which drawings he held. “Yeah. Or at least the top one.”

  He took them to the table and spread them out. “What did you think?”

  She joined him, standing by his side. “I assume you’re not asking for my opinion as an art critic?”

  “This…” He tapped the first drawing. The picture showed a house and several figures against a background of pine trees. In some ways, it seemed like a typical child’s drawing. The house was a square box with a triangle roof and the trees were angled lines drawn away from a central stem. The figures were only slightly more elaborate than stick people. But the house was colored completely black, with none of the doors or windows of a traditional house. And the figures were all different sizes, all different places. “This has to be meaningful, right? Not too many black houses around here.” Colin sounded optimistic, as if he were ready to start searching for a house of that description immediately.

  Natalya wrinkled her nose as she shook her head. “Think metaphor,” she suggested. She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if Kenzi was close enough to overhear them.

  “She’s drawing me a picture to take home with me,” Colin said. “I closed the door to the bedroom.”

  She could still be listening, so Natalya kept her words cautious. “If this represents a real location, I think it’s safe to say it’s not a good place. But I don’t think you can assume the actual house looks anything like this.”

  Colin grimaced. “And the people?”

  “I’m sure she doesn’t know anyone who’s as big as a house,” Natalya replied, touching the largest figure. “Or as small as this one,” she added, tapping a tiny figure at the edge of the paper, shorter than the bottom branches of the pine tree it stood under.

  “What do you think is going on here?” Colin asked, pointing to a central grouping of figures.

  “That’s… troubling,” Natalya said cautiously. One of the shapes appeared to be lying down. Kenzi might have meant the red scribble across its chest as writing on a t-shirt. Or spilled juice, perhaps? But blood seemed painfully likely.

  “Could she have witnessed a crime?” Colin asked.

  Natalya shrugged. “Maybe. But I don’t think we can make any assumptions.”

  “Yeah, it’s not a lot to go on.” Colin agreed. He shuffled the first picture to the side and pulled the next one closer to him. “What about this one?”

  “Huh.” Natalya hadn’t seen this one before. Three figures stood side-by-side. One had long dark hair and wore carefully filled-in blue pants and a blue shirt, much like the blue jeans and sweater Natalya was wearing. The next, much smaller, had brown hair in wild curls, with pink pants and a blue-and-white shirt. The third had blonde hair, a wide smile, and a pink dress.

  “That’s got to be you, right?”

  “This must be what she was drawing when I was painting this afternoon.” Natalya eyed the image thoughtfully. “Why did you pick this one out?”

  When she’d brought Kenzi back to her house after the disastrous meeting at the sheriff’s office, she’d had no idea what she was going to do with the girl. With the company closed for the holiday week, she didn’t need to go into work. But she hadn’t spent extended time with a child in years. When her college friends were getting married and having babies, she’d been immersed in medical school and residency. What did seven-year-olds like to do exactly?

  But Kenzi was easy. Natalya didn’t have crayons, but she had oil pastels and colored chalk. That and a pile of scrap paper had kept Kenzi busy for hours. With the television, her doll, a few old board games Nat had stashed in a closet, an occasional trip into town or friendly visitor, and a daily walk by the water, they’d managed to spend their time together quite contentedly. Natalya suspected most children wouldn’t be so complaisant, but she wasn’t complaining.

  “The girl in the pink dress,” Colin answered.

  “Grace, you think?” Grace had dropped by every day. She seemed to have set a personal goal of making Kenzi laugh. She hadn’t succeeded yet, but she’d gotten Kenzi’s cheeks to dimple with restrained amusement.

  “No, I don’t think so.” Colin pulled the next image over. This one was again of a girl in a pink dress but this time she was outlined in yellow.

  “Hmm, interesting.” Natalya picked up the drawing. The yellow was more than a simple traced line. Kenzi had carefully shaded the color around the body, setting the figure against a background of light. “It’s almost like she’s glowing.”

  Colin’s voice was taut with tension. “I think it’s the girl from my dream.”

  “Oh! Rose, of course!” Natalya wished Kenzi had advanced beyond basic figures. She would have liked to know what the ghost girl looked like. “So she must be able to see her, too. I wonder if Akira knows that. I wonder if Rose knows that.”

  “What?” Colin stared at her as if she’d sprouted another head.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Rose? The girl from the other night? The ghost you saw when you were, well, dead?”

  “What ghost?” Colin sounded completely confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “Akira didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  The Tassamara gossip loop had fallen down on the job. Natalya had expected the details to be all over town within twenty-four hours. But perhaps since Colin was involved, no one had shared the story with him?

  “The girl you saw the other night is a ghost. She lives with Akira and Zane. Her name is Rose.”

  “A ghost,” Colin repeated. He blinked and shook his head as if trying to kick-start his brain. “Okay, right. I knew… A ghost? Really?”

  Natalya bit back her smile. Colin had always been more skeptical than the average Tassamara resident. Maybe it was being the youngest in a big family. His siblings had teased him with stories about the town, true or not. It might have been why he’d followed in his father’s footsteps and become a police officer.

  “We need to question her.”

  Natalya blinked. Somehow that hadn’t been what she expected him to say next. “How do you want to do that?”

  “I don’t know. A séance?”

  “Those don’t work. We tried back when Dad was convinced the house was haunted.” Her father had been right that their house was haunted, but until Akira moved to town, the mediums and séances and ghost hunters had all been a big waste of time and energy.

  “She must know something, though. Why else would she have been there?”

  Natalya paused. If Rose knew any helpful information about Kenzi, wouldn’t she have told Akira? And wouldn’t Akira have relayed it? But maybe Colin was right. Maybe they needed to talk to Rose.

  Chapter Nine

  “Yay!” Rose clapped her hands with delight.

  “Akira doesn’t like being asked about ghosts. Zane asked us not to bring them up.” Tiny lines of worry creased Natalya’s brow.

  “Pfft.” Rose waved her hand to dismiss that concern. “She won’t mind talking to me.”

  She spun in a circle in the kitchen, not caring that her energy passed through the oblivious living people. She didn’t mind keeping the little girl company—especially not since they’d started watching television—but it would be nice to be able to talk again. To someone who could hear her, that was.

  “Under the circumstances, I think she can make an exception.” Colin said, voice firm.

  Natalya lifted a dubious shoulder as Rose paused in her twirl. Firm was the wrong tactic to take. Akira got stubborn when she felt pushed.

  Colin glanced at his wa
tch. “It’s early still. I’ll go visit her. It’s the old Harris place, right? Off Millard?”

  “Yeah. But are you sure Rose will be there?” Natalya set down the drawing she’d been holding and picked up another one, her expression thoughtful.

  Rose peeked over her shoulder. It was the one Kenzi had drawn earlier that day, of the three of them together. Rose didn’t think the likeness was anything to write home about, but she appreciated the thought.

  She hadn’t known how clearly Kenzi saw her. In the forest, the little girl had followed Rose through hours of hiking and miles of wooded terrain. She’d never complained, never cried, just persisted, one step after the next. But since then, the little girl hadn’t seemed to recognize when Rose was with her except for the occasional moment when she’d stop and stare or quickly turn her head as if she’d caught a glimpse of Rose out of the corner of her eye.

  Little kids often could see ghosts. Babies were the best. Rose would play with them, tickling their toes and making silly faces, hoping to catch a smile or even better, a full-fledged giggle. The older they got, though, the less likely it was they’d acknowledge her. Toddlers could mostly see her, but they couldn’t feel or hear her anymore. And a child Kenzi’s age shouldn’t have seen her at all.

  “Doesn’t she live there?” Colin asked.

  “Technically, I think the term you want is reside,” Natalya murmured. “Or possibly haunt, if that’s not rude.”

  Colin snorted, as Rose laughed. “I don’t mind,” she said generously. “Not anymore.” Back when she’d been trapped in her house, before Akira came and set her free, she hated people saying the house was haunted. It meant fewer and fewer visitors over the years and Rose loved company.

  “But more seriously,” Natalya continued, “don’t you think she might be here?” She tipped her chin in the direction of the picture. “Kenzi’s obviously seen her. There’s no setting on this drawing, no house or forest to give us a sense of place, but she’s put the three of us together. That’s got to be me, her, and Rose, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So maybe Rose is with us.”

  Rose twirled again, delighted by the direction of the conversation. “Oh, I am, I am.”

  “Huh. Interesting idea.” Colin rubbed his chin, looking around the kitchen. “What do you suggest?”

  Natalya looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, in a louder voice, “If you’re here, Rose, can you give us a sign?”

  “Help Wanted?” Colin suggested.

  Natalya’s lips twitched, but she didn’t smile. “Trespassers will be shot?” she offered tartly.

  “Now how hospitable is that?” Colin drawled, his grey eyes alight with amusement.

  Rose looked from one to the other, her lips curving up. She couldn’t read minds and she hadn’t spent long enough with the sheriff and Zane’s sister to fully understand their relationship, but she knew that crack about trespassers hadn’t been directed at her. The sheriff knew it, too.

  “If you’re here, Rose, you’re welcome to stay,” Natalya said. “But please let us know whether you are.”

  “What are you expecting her to do? Start banging cupboard doors? Make objects fly around the room?”

  “Dillon sends text messages,” Natalya told him, referring to her ghostly nephew.

  “Oh, that’s so hard,” Rose protested. She’d tried, she had, but she’d never succeeded in replicating Dillon’s skill at controlling cell phones. Still, Natalya had only asked for a sign. Maybe Rose could manage some other feat? She was good at switching channels on the television, but only when the magic pointer was positioned correctly. Natalya kept hers in a drawer. It had been very frustrating. Rose didn’t mind the Disney Channel, but some Cartoon Network would have made a nice change.

  With a pout, not really wanting to do what she was about to do, Rose stepped into Natalya. Standing on top of her, her legs lost in Natalya’s body, she thought of the worst, saddest, bleakest thoughts she could.

  It took her a minute. Death, the obvious tragic thought, just didn’t scare her anymore. Not hers or anyone else’s. Sure, it would have been sad if the little girl died in the forest, but the spirit who’d sent Rose to find her was probably waiting for her somewhere. And Colin, why he’d practically been looking forward to seeing his parents again. No, death wasn’t scary.

  Loneliness, though, that had power. Rose imagined herself still tied to her house, but without Henry, without the boys in the backyard, without Dillon or Akira or Zane, without music or television or visitors.

  Natalya shivered, tugging the light cardigan sweater she wore closed, and tucking one hand into a fist by her neck.

  “Is your phone ringing?” she asked Colin.

  He shook his head. “Not a quiver.” He slipped it out of his pocket and thumbed it on, glancing at the screen. “Nothing.”

  “Huh,” she said. “Well, maybe she’s not here.”

  Annoyed, Rose tried harder, concentrating on the thought of a completely silent, completely empty world. Why, it was such a miserable idea she almost wanted to cry herself. Natalya couldn’t possibly miss that.

  Natalya shivered again. “I might need to turn the heat on tonight. The weather must be changing.”

  “A cold front came in,” Colin confirmed with a nod.

  “Cold front! I’m not a cold front.” Rose stepped out of Natalya, shaking her head. “Ask for a sign, then totally ignore it,” she grumbled. What else could she do?

  “Maybe we should ask Kenzi if she’s here.” Colin sounded dubious, even as he made the suggestion.

  “Oh, don’t do that,” Rose protested, but Natalya was already shaking her head.

  “Not a good idea,” Natalya said. She didn’t bother to explain herself, but Rose nodded in relief. Kenzi might be scared at the idea of a ghost haunting her and Rose didn’t want to give the poor kid nightmares. Colin and Natalya exchanged a long look before Colin dipped his head in acknowledgement, not questioning her decision.

  “In fact…” Natalya glanced in the direction of the living room. “Let’s discuss this after Kenzi goes to bed.”

  “All right.” Colin started to slip his phone back into his pocket before pausing. “I’ll call Akira, though, and see if Rose is with her. If she’s not, maybe Akira can come over, see if Rose is here, and translate some ghost for us. ”

  “I’ll call,” Natalya said.

  “I don’t mind.” Colin tapped at his phone screen, head bent. “She knows me.” Natalya shot him a look, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I know I’ve got Zane’s number in here somewhere,” he muttered.

  Natalya reached over and tugged the phone out of his hands. Rose chuckled, saying, “Ooh, decisive.”

  “Hey,” Colin protested, as he let it go.

  Natalya pressed the button to turn it off and handed it back. “I’ll call,” she repeated.

  “What’s the big deal?”

  The look Natalya gave him was the same as the one Rose’s math teacher used to give her when she hadn’t done her homework: a steady gaze, head tilted, both reproachful and annoyed.

  “Ah.” A slow grin spread across Colin’s face before he smothered it. Rose thought he might be biting the interior of his cheek to hold it in as he said, “Should I not be inviting people to your house?”

  “In fact, you should not,” Natalya said. Her tone grew exasperated as she added, “In actual fact, I’d prefer it if no one knew you were at my house. Not my family, definitely not your family, and not the rest of the town, either.”

  “Don’t think of it as a visit,” he suggested. “I’m following up on a case. That’s all. Of course, most witnesses don’t feed me dinner. I guess if I mention how delicious your chicken enchiladas are…”

  He let the words trail off at Natalya’s glare. Pointing over his shoulder at the living room and the bedroom adjacent to it, he said, “I’ll just go, ah, check on how that drawing’s coming along, yeah?” Natalya didn’t answer as she picked up her own pho
ne to call Akira, but as he turned, Rose heard him chuckle softly.

  Natalya’s frown smoothed out when Akira answered. She took only a moment to get to the point. “Is Rose with you?”

  “Hello, Akira,” Rose called from across the room. She didn’t think Akira would be able to hear her, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

  She paused as Akira responded. Rose couldn’t hear Akira’s side of the conversation, but as Natalya began to smile, Rose drew closer to listen in.

  “Ghosts disappear. They do. They’re around and then they’re not and that’s how it goes. But three days. And she didn’t say good-bye, she didn’t leave a message—not that I know how a ghost could leave a message, it’s not as if she could write a note. But the television’s never on, the house is quiet. It’s spooky. People think haunted houses are spooky, but a not-haunted house is so much worse.”

  “She’s here, I think,” Natalya finally interrupted Akira.

  “With you?” Akira’s surprise was clear, but she almost immediately added in a calmer tone, “Oh. The little girl. The one you’re still taking care of. That should have occurred to me.”

  “We,” Natalya started before correcting herself, “that is, I’d like to ask her some questions and see what she knows.”

  “I’m not sure how much help she’ll be.” Akira sounded doubtful. “Rose can be mysterious.”

  Rose snorted. She would so be helpful. And she was not mysterious. But then her nose wrinkled as she thought about what she knew. Not a name. Not an identity. Not an address. And she wasn’t even sure she wanted Colin and Natalya to find Kenzi’s home. They might think their job was to return her, but Rose wasn’t convinced that was a good idea.

  She was still puzzling over the question of what she would tell them after Natalya got off the phone and while she and Colin had a low-voiced argument about whether he could stay. Natalya wanted him to leave, promising to relay any useful information, but he insisted it was bad enough not to be able to communicate directly with a witness without playing telephone. Reluctantly, Natalya conceded the point.