Spirits in the Material World

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Spirits in the Material World Page 2

by Lisa Shea


  Prudence nodded. She turned to her wife. “See, Gertrude, this isn’t something you can just do on your own, like popping a Mexican burrito into a microwave and pressing high. You need an expert to handle it right. That’s why I hired Cassandra to come over tonight.”

  Mrs. McGillicuddy and I turned our heads in unison to stare at Prudence. Mrs. McGillicuddy put words to her thoughts first. “You what?”

  Prudence nodded in satisfaction. “I hired Cassandra. Her website said that she was the region’s foremost authority in removing troublesome spirits from homes. She’s never failed once. So she’ll be here at 8pm.”

  Tension wound up within my soul, and with effort I untwined it enough to breathe. I asked, “Would it be all right if I came to see what this … this Cassandra does?”

  Prudence gave me a warm smile. “Of course, Amber. It’d be wonderful if you’d attend our house cleansing. I’ll make some oatmeal cookies, and it’ll be like a party.”

  Somehow, I had a sense that things weren’t going to go as smoothly as she planned.

  Chapter Three

  Nervous energy coursed through me as I walked the stepping stone path toward the McGillicuddy porch. The rockers, bathed in the sunset’s golden beams, were now empty; lights glowed from several of the windows.

  I’d lived in Salem for over five years. I’d lived nearby for my entire life. I’d participated in countless celebrations for the solstices and equinoxes. Numerous Wiccan ceremonies. I even had a small altar in my own bedroom.

  I’d never participated in an exorcism.

  I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to now. But I knew one thing. I wouldn’t abandon Mrs. McGillicuddy and Prudence to this Cassandra without checking her out for myself.

  I had barely put knuckles to door when Prudence yanked it open. “Oh, good, there you are. Cassandra should arrive any minute. We have the library all ready. Come on in.”

  I blinked in surprise as we walked in.

  I was taking this evening seriously. If Cassandra really was who she said she was, and we were really going to drive a spirit out of their chosen home, I was anticipating a somber affair. I’d worn black leggings with a violet peasant shirt. I’d even put on my moonstone pendant. Just in case.

  But apparently Prudence and Mrs. McGillicuddy were viewing the event as something a bit more … once-in-a-lifetime.

  Both wore what I imagined to be the finest dresses they owned. Mrs. McGillicuddy was in a floor-length gold lamé dress with sparkling garnet accents along the hem. At her waist was a peacock-feather belt.

  Prudence was only a hint less showy. Her dress was in ivory filigree lace with vine-embroidered sleeves and hem. At her throat was an aquamarine pendant larger than a silver dollar.

  My mouth must have fallen open.

  Prudence seemed to have mis-interpreted my shock. Her hand moved with pride to her necklace. “Got it in Singapore,” she informed me. “It brings spiritual awareness. Hopefully it will protect me against the malevolent spirit.”

  Somehow I recovered my voice. There had to be a way to rein this in. “Are we sure all of this is necessary? This ghost of yours has only rearranged a few books. He – or she - doesn’t seem that dangerous.”

  Prudence shivered. “You never know. Once we try to permanently consign him to Hell’s Eternal Fires, he might lash out at us.”

  My brow creased. “That’s not really what –”

  The doorbell rang, and Prudence hurried toward it. “That must be Cassandra. Oh, I hope she’s all the website promises she will be!”

  She pulled the front door open.

  A woman stood there.

  No, stood was the wrong word. Cassandra practically vibrated with energy. She was at least three inches taller than me and her blonde hair was teased out to a volume which would put an ’80s hair band to shame. Her deep-cut crimson gypsy top layered over a multicolor patchwork skirt with small silver coins sewn into it. Her bracelets and silver hoop earrings jangled as she moved.

  She elegantly reached forward a hand to Prudence. Her voice had a cultured British tone to it. “So delighted to make your acquaintance. You must be Prudence McGillicuddy. You are even more lovely than in your social networking photos.”

  Prudence blushed and took the hand. “Why, thank you. I didn’t realize I’d sent the links to those pages.”

  Cassandra swirled in a tinkle to look to Mrs. McGillicuddy. “And Gertrude, of course. It is an honor to meet you at last.”

  Gertrude’s face was pale and pinched, but she took Cassandra’s hand and nodded. She motioned to me. “And this here is Amber. Amber Gardiner.”

  Cassandra barely glanced at me. Her gaze was full on Prudence. “So, you have a troublesome ghost on the premises and you need my expertise to drive it out? I am sure within two hours I will have narrowed down exactly what type of a creature we are dealing with. It could be just an imp, of course. Or perhaps a mischievous poltergeist.” Her face grew serious. “But then again, it could be one of the Nephilim.”

  Mrs. McGillicuddy’s mouth fell open. “A Nephilim? Is that bad?”

  Cassandra hooked her arm into Prudence’s. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. If it is a Nephilim, the ceremony will take a full month to complete. The rare items required for the rite are fairly expensive.”

  Prudence’s voice quavered. “Price is no object. I want to keep my buttercup safe.”

  Something wasn’t striking me quite right about Cassandra. For one thing, I thought I knew just about every commercially-operating paranormal person in our region. I received enough requests for information at the bookstore that I kept a list of who could help with what. This Cassandra person had never even been a blip on my radar.

  And, for another, Cassandra’s accent seemed to sway randomly between Downton Abbey and Lord of the Rings. And was she now channeling Galadriel? For her tone seemed to have dropped an octave as she said, “Wait – I can feel a presence. I feel it in the air. I feel it in the walls around me. Much that once was is now lost –”

  Prudence gripped Cassandra’s arm in panic, throwing her other hand up to point toward the library. “It’s there! It’s in –”

  A hint of irritation flashed across Cassandra’s face at the interruption of her speech, but she quickly regained control. “No, no, don’t tell me where the spirit is. Let me seek out its aura on my own. Please stand back. I need to be able to feel its vibrations.”

  Prudence and Mrs. McGillicuddy nervously inched back, their faces practically flour-white now. I held in a sigh and leaned against the hutch. The top shelf held a trio of emerald glass buoys each nestled in a woven fishing net. Nowadays people simply tossed white plastic balls to serve the same purpose. It seemed as if we were winnowing out the beauty around us for the sake of convenience.

  Cassandra’s eyelids were fluttering, and her hands were out before her as if she were reaching through molasses for that elusive Cracker Jack prize. “I can sense … something. There is definitely something here. It is male, and strong … very strong. I think he has been watching you, Prudence, for quite some time.”

  Prudence blinked in confusion. “Watching me? Why would he watch me?”

  Cassandra’s brows drew together, and she bit her lip. I could almost see the gears spinning in confusion in her mind. Apparently this was not the typical response of one of her clients.

  She took a stab to re-find her footing. “Surely, if a handsome demon from the catacombs of Hades is watching the most intimate hours of you and your sister –”

  I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. This must have been Cassandra’s modus operandi. Find a widow or two who was lonely and rich. Invent a manly, handsome, all-powerful spirit who lived in their home. Heck, if Cassandra could balance the desire of the occupants to learn more about the man and to stay safe, Cassandra could keep herself in a job for years on end.

  All three women whirled on me, two in shock, one in fury. Cassandra hissed, “You must not make fun of the spirits. This is deadly serio
us. Your friends could be in grave peril!”

  I muffled down my giggles. “I’m so sorry, Cassandra,” I offered with all the contriteness I could muster. “It’s just that, I think you were mistaken about Mrs. McGillicuddy and … well … Mrs. McGillicuddy. You see, they aren’t widowed sisters. They’re a married couple.”

  Cassandra’s mouth hung open for a long moment while those gears spun into overtime. Then she reshaped her mouth into a condescending smile. “Of course they are. It was clear from the first moment I saw them, how much they love each other.”

  Her voice dropped back down into Galadriel range. “But that’s why this creature is so dangerous. And now that I am even more in tune with its resonance, I realize that it’s not a Nephilim at all. It’s something far, far worse.”

  I could see where this was probably going.

  I said, aiming my own voice toward the rounded tones of Elrond, “Cassandra, tamer of spirits, you have been brought here to face the threat of a restless spirit. And I sense that you fear it is the most dangerous bane of all - a succubus.”

  Her eyes went wide in shared concern. “That is exactly what I was thinking! So you feel it, too?”

  She rounded on the two McGillicuddies. “A succubus is the most powerful member of the demon world. She disguises herself as a stunningly enticing woman. Beautiful breasts. Hair as soft as an ermine’s fur. Eyes like pools of water so deep you could fall into them. She slides into your life when you are at your weakest, and she draws you deep into her tangled, sticky web. Soon you are wholly trapped, with no possible escape.”

  Her gaze dramatically rose toward the library door, and her hand followed suit, narrowing down to one pointing finger. “I believe a succubus has set up her irresistible lair in that very room!”

  Prudence clutched at Mrs. McGillicuddy in shock. “That’s exactly where we sensed the activity! Cassandra, you are amazing! I’m so glad I called you.”

  Cassandra put her hands out before her as she theatrically groped her way toward the door. “Stand back, all of you. We don’t know what this succubus will do when she realizes I have come to drive her out. She will fight tooth and nail to resist me. To finish whatever diabolical plans she has for you both. It could take months to claw her out of her den.”

  Her hand now rested on the doorknob.

  Prudence was quivering with fear. One hand moved to clutch the aquamarine pendant at her neck. The other hand twined into Mrs. McGillicuddy’s hand so tightly that both went white.

  Cassandra slowly turned to us. “Be brave. Be very brave. For no matter what we find behind this door, know that I am here to defend you. Whatever it costs, however long it takes, I will be your knight in shining armor. I will be your shield. I will be –”

  I’d had just about enough of this shyster terrorizing my friends. No legitimate paranormal investigator would allow their clients to be put at risk like this if there actually was any hint of danger. It was one thing to prey on people’s wallets. It was another to terrify retirees with frail hearts.

  I strode past Cassandra, who cut off her monologue with an outraged yelp. I grabbed the doorknob, twisting it and flinging the door wide open into the library. “See,” I called out to all present. “There’s nobody at all in here. There’s no sultry succubus. There’s no diabolical demon of the deep. There’s no –”

  A young girl stood in the middle of the room, staring at me with wide eyes. She was dressed in a long, cornflower-blue dress with a white overlay. A simple belt kept it cinched at her waist. Her hair was braided up and tucked under a white cap.

  From the type of outfit, I knew it dated to the late 1600s.

  From the way I could see the shelves of books through her slim body, I knew she was a spirit.

  Cassandra threw her arms wide, striding forward as she stared into the nothingness near the ceiling. “And there she is! The worst demon that exists, the most dangerous threat in this world and the next, the horrific, terrifying, soul-consuming –”

  The young girl clapped her hands over her ears in terror and began sobbing inconsolably.

  I spun on Cassandra in fury. “Now look what you’ve done! I’ve had it!”

  I grabbed her arm, perhaps with a bit more grip than was necessary, and pushed her out the library door. Mrs. McGillicuddy and Prudence had followed us into the library, but there was no help for it. They would just have to know the truth. I certainly wasn’t going to evict them out of their own library.

  I closed the library door firmly in Cassandra’s outraged face.

  And then I knelt in front of the young girl. I put my hands out, palms up, before her.

  I said, “Don’t worry. You’re safe now. I’m here. Amber’s here.”

  Chapter Four

  Maybe it was the shock of me talking to her in that calm, soothing voice. Maybe it was the fact that it was the first time that someone had acknowledged her presence in over three hundred years. Or maybe it was the knowledge that Cassandra was safely blocked behind the closed library door. But for whatever reason, the girl eased off on her sobs and looked at me with tear-stained eyes.

  She shakily asked, “Who are you?”

  The doorknob turned.

  I leaned back and flicked the lock shut.

  Mrs. McGillicuddy and Prudence staggered over to fall into their deep leather chairs. They stared at me, transfixed, not saying a single word.

  I said to the girl, “My name is Amber. Amber Gardiner. What is your name?”

  She stared at me with big eyes for a long moment. At last she said, “Sarah.”

  I nodded. “That’s a nice name, Sarah. It means princess in Hebrew. No wonder you are so brave. What is your last name?”

  Her eyes welled. “I don’t remember.”

  “That’s all right, Sarah,” I reassured her. “We’ll figure this out. Me, and Prudence, and Mrs. McGillicuddy.”

  Her eyes went over to the two women huddled in the chairs. The women, in return, stared at the empty space before me with wide eyes.

  Prudence asked, hesitantly, “Who are you talking with? Is that a succubus?”

  Sarah cringed back.

  Mrs. McGillicuddy leaned forward, some color returning to her cheeks. “Amber isn’t talking as if it’s some dangerous she-demon,” she pointed out. “Is it … is it a little girl?”

  I nodded. “She is. I’d guess she’s about nine years old. Perhaps from the late 1600s, based on her dress.”

  Prudence blinked, staring more intensely into the center of the room. “I don’t see anything at all.”

  I gave a small smile. “Not everyone can see spirits. It’s a … a gift that some people have. It’s pretty rare. My aunt taught me from a young age that the things I saw should only be mentioned to her. Not even my parents knew.”

  Mrs. McGillicuddy’s eyes held understanding. “That must have been hard, growing up with a secret like that. I’m glad Marilyn was there to mentor you.”

  “Aunt Marilyn was everything to me,” I agreed. “I guess she’d had enough drama during her own childhood, when her own sister and parents didn’t believe in what she saw. The moment she realized I shared her gift, she did her best to guide and protect me.”

  Loud hammering came from the library door. “Let me in! You’re trying to poach my clients, aren’t you! You witch! I’ll get the Better Business Bureau after you! I’ll leave one-star reviews on your Yelp page!”

  Sarah cringed back in fear.

  I smiled reassuringly at her. “Don’t worry. I won’t let Cassandra bother you. I doubt she could even see you.”

  Sarah nervously glanced over at the two women in their chairs. “Like Gertie and Prudence can’t see me?”

  “Just like that,” I agreed. A thought came to me, and I hunkered down cross-legged in front of her. “Gertie. Were you here when Gertie and her brothers and sisters were young?”

  She nodded, a smile coming to her lips. “I liked it then. There were seven of them running all over the place, laughing and chasing ea
ch other. It reminded me of my own family. Before …”

  I stared into those large eyes. “Before what?”

  She dropped her gaze. “I don’t remember. It’s all so long ago. I don’t think I lived here, but I don’t remember where I used to live. I don’t know why I’m here now. I know back before Gertie and her brothers and sisters were born, that their mother grew up here. But I don’t even remember that very well.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t remember anything at all.”

  I pointed at the books. “You remember how to read.”

  She gave a small smile. “I didn’t, you know. Before. But when Gertie and everyone was young, they had a tutor. He used to teach them all their letters and words, right here in this library. I had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do. After seven different kids were taught, I had it down pretty good.”

  I lifted up a book. “And you figured out how to interact with your world. Just a little bit.”

  She held her hand out to the book.

  It shivered and then lifted up out of my hand. It floated over to her and spread open wide.

  Prudence let out a shriek.

  A fresh set of hammering came from the library door. “What’s going on in there! If you’re charging them for an exorcism I get half the rate! I’m the one who sealed the deal!”

  I took the book out of the air and laid it back down on a shelf. “Do you remember anything at all about your original life? About your parents? About your siblings?”

  She slowly shook her head. “I know I miss them terribly, but I can’t even bring their faces up in my mind any more. It’s just this ache which won’t go away.”

  “Don’t you worry,” I reassured her. “Gertie, Prudence, and I will figure it out. We’ll figure out who you are and where you belong. And then, if you want us to, we’ll help you get back to your family.”

  Her gaze shone. “I’d like that very much.”

 

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