Ghost No More (Ghost No More Series Book 1)

by CeeCee James

  About two weeks later, Mama called me into the house. Her voice had a strange twist to it. When I walked inside, she held a letter in a trembling hand. She sat down on one end of the sofa in our living room, and gestured for me to sit on the other side. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. It was the first time she had welcomed me to sit on the sofa with her in the Dark House. She paused for a second to light her cigarette. After taking a deep drag, she asked me what had happened with the neighbor man.

  Her words hit like a punch in the gut. Grandma had promised not to tell anyone. I stood up in a fog, my feet directing me to the door before I could stop them. I grabbed my face and pulled, twisting my head from side to side. I couldn’t stop this, I couldn’t stop it from coming out. A deep, ugly sob escaped. The truth is going to destroy Mama. Like a volcano I exploded.

  “It was Grandpa.”

  She blinked. I stood there frozen. Time didn’t move. She suddenly flew up off the couch. I flung my arm up, but she turned the other way. With a violent punch, she slammed her fist into her other hand. “I could string him up by his balls!” She paced up and down the room, clenching her hands and swearing. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I didn’t know what to think. I had never seen her so angry before when it wasn’t directed at me.

  Mama paced the living room from end to end.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  The words were slow to come. They had been locked up my entire life. I tried to be honest and shared with her as much as I could dredge up. After about an hour of me starting and stopping, Mama told me she needed time to consider what I had said. She sent me away to my room. Every so often I ran back upstairs to share more memories as they came to me.

  That night when Adam came home, she called me back upstairs.

  “Tell him,” she said, gesturing to him with one of her shoulders. He looked at me with one eyebrow raised.

  “So, what’s this you’ve been saying?” he asked.

  I was embarrassed and blushed as I retold my story. Mama’s questions started to sound skeptical. The final nail in the coffin of her support was when I said, “One last thing, ________ (male babysitter) did it to me too.” The air felt leaden as they both stared at me with looks of disgust. She leapt to her feet and ran to her room. I heard her lock the door. Adam shrugged and scratched his head. I felt like a ball of yarn that had been pulled apart and was hopelessly unraveled. I scooped up the emotional mess of my confession and stumbled downstairs to my dark basement room.

  That night I lured the cat near through the stairway door that was left opened. When he came close, I snatched him up and carried him into my room for a few hours. I dreaded being caught by Mama, but I was desperate. I smoothed down his fur and stroked his ears until he purred. I buried my face into his soft side and my tears made wet patches on his coat. The cat found something he liked and began to lick my hand non-stop. His scratching tongue made a red patch on my skin that gave me something to focus on besides the pain that was tearing me inside.

  When I had pressed my luck long enough, I snuck him back upstairs.

  The next morning, I lay in bed in disbelief and blankly stared up at my empty bookshelf. Did yesterday actually happen? Oh God! What did I do? The house was quiet when I tiptoed up the stairs. I was too jittery with nervousness and dread to eat breakfast. Mama was still locked in her room, and the house felt cold and empty.

  I heard the echo of a hammer and ran to the lattice covered window. Adam was out there fixing the fence at the bottom of the property. I slipped out the door, trying not to disturb Mama, and ran down the hill to where he was.

  He didn’t look up, but continued to hammer when I came up to him. I waited for him to acknowledge me. Silence. After a minute, I cleared my throat and attempted to break the ice.

  “So, I slept well last night.”

  His hammering slowed, and after the last stroke, he brought it to his side. He tipped his head back and looked at me through the bottom of his glasses. “You’re kidding. How could you?” His voice sounded like ice. He turned away and hammered on the fence again.

  Chills ran through my body as I realized all my fears were true. I was like those boys in the television show, I had destroyed the family. I ran up the hill and hid behind the shed, wanting to go into my room and pull the covers over my head and disappear forever. But, it was daytime, and I wasn’t allowed back inside.

  That evening Mama drifted out of her room. She had taken something, and her voice was numb. Mama gave me a spacy look. “I don’t believe you. You can’t even keep your story straight. Besides, if anything happened it’s your fault anyway. You seduced him by not staying away from him. I told you before to stay away from him, when you came to me as a little girl and told me what Grandpa asked you to do.” She waved her hand impassively at me, when my mouth opened in shock. “You just keep quiet. Don’t bother trying to defend yourself. This is your fault. I’ve dealt with it, and I never want to hear another word about it. From now on it’s a dead subject. Now get out of my sight.”

  I was floored. I didn’t know what to say in response to defend myself anyway.

  About an hour later, Mama called her Dad and informed him that she had decided not to press charges. “Press charges! I never did anything!” He yelled. That was how Grandma found out that it wasn’t their neighbor who had harmed me.

  After Mama hung up the phone with Grandpa, her boldness deflated, and she looked like she aged ten years. With heavy steps, she dragged herself to her room and locked the door again, this time staying in her room three weeks.

  My stepdad stood outside the door every once in a while, holding cups of coffee and soup. He softly pleaded with her to open the door. As the days progressed, sometimes the food was permitted in, but she never came out.

  Finally Mama did leave the bedroom. She walked up to me and said, “I never want it brought up again. It’s a dead subject.”

  I would never talk about it with her again.

  She resumed life as though nothing had happened. Her timing was impeccable. I had just received my tickets in the mail, and in just a few days I would be flying out again to visit my Dad in Pennsylvania.

  The night before I was to leave I packed my suitcase. Mama came down the stairs and stood in the doorway to watch me. Cigarette smoke swirled around her head, while she studied me. I couldn’t meet her eyes. After a minute, she said, “Do not tell him. He’ll take you away from us. He’ll abuse you like he abused me.”

  I nodded. I would never betray Mama.

  The next day before the sun rose, Mama and Adam dropped me off at the airport terminal. I raced to find my gate, my suitcase bumping into my legs. The flight attendant smiled and winked her eye as I ran on the plane.

  The airplane began to move down the runway for takeoff. I leaned my head back into the seat, not able to comprehend how much my life had changed since my last airplane ride. I couldn’t think too deeply about it, I had to live another lie for Mama. You can do it. Happy face time! When the flight attendant came by to hand me a pair of plastic wings, I gave her a big smile and said, “Oh thank you so much! Yes, I am flying alone! I am so excited!”

  I clutched the armrests with my eyes closed when the plane landed. I almost landed in someone’s lap trying to get my luggage down, but friendly hands caught my shoulders. I smiled with gratitude at the man and stepped off the plane. Taking a few deep breaths, I searched the terminal. This time I spotted Dad right away. His hair was combed in a high wave to one side, and he wore a suit. He threw one hand up in greeting, his other one tucked around his new wife. While he introduced us, I gave her a quick look-over. She was petite, with dark, short hair flipped back over her ears like two shiny bird wings. She pulled nervously at her green cardigan that was buttoned clear to her neck. Her eyes were on Dad as he introduced her, and then she smiled and gently shook my hand.

  “I’m so glad to finally meet you! How’s your summer been?”

  I imitated her grin and answered, “It’s
been a great summer. I’m so excited to be here!”

  It took a few minutes to exit the airport and find Dad’s car. “What do you think of this baby, eh?” He threw my suitcase in the trunk. It was a Cadillac with plush blue seats. I ran my hands against the velvety grain and made a dark stripe in the fibers. We pulled out on the highway. Dad called over his shoulder, “We’re going to make a few stops before we head home.”

  They took me out to dinner at a Mexican restaurant. I was surprised to see money at the bottom of a bubbling fountain that stood in the center of the restaurant. Dad told me it was for wishes. Over enchiladas, he told me about his new job.

  “I’m an important person at my new job, CeeCee.”

  I looked up with the fork half-way to my mouth. I didn’t know what to say. He was waiting, so I said, “Oh, good job, Dad.”

  He nodded and continued. “People have to watch their p’s and q’s around me. What I say goes. I make good money now!”

  After dinner, we stopped at a video store. “Pick out a movie,” Dad said. I didn’t know anything about movies, so I asked him to pick. He picked out Animal House. That night I cringed with embarrassment every time he gave a raucous laugh.

  They lived in a split level house, with my bedroom located across the hall from theirs. My stepmom showed me the bathroom and shyly pointed out the special shampoos and scented soap that she had bought for me. “I hope you like them,” she said, her nervous hands wringing a hand towel that she had been folding.

  “Oh, they’re my favorite!” I said, pretending that I was used to such things.

  It was a fancy bathroom, with heat lamps in the ceiling and thick luxurious towels to wrap up in. I was nervous climbing into my first shower. After turning on the water, my hand hovered over the shower switch for a moment. I hope I do this right. I flipped up the shower nozzle and instantly hot water sprayed my face. Sputtering, I jumped back, slipping a little on the porcelain. I rubbed my eyes. What the heck? I eased myself in again, smiling at the wonderful feeling of the hot water. I reached for the orange bottle and squirted some shampoo in my hand. There’s nothing to this.

  Just then, I saw the water puddling outside of the tub. Ahhhhh! The shower curtain rings clinked as I rearrange the plastic liner. There was hammering out in the hall. I leapt out of the shower with soap still in my hair and stared at the door. Shivering, I held my breath and listened.

  No one burst in; no threats were screamed through the closed bathroom door. There was no sound at all, except my pounding heart beat and the running shower.

  It didn’t take me long to enjoy feeling pampered like I was at a lavish spa. The soaps and shampoos smelled blissful and lathered so easy. After my shower I stood in front of the steamy mirror wrapped head to toe in thick towels, with another in my hair, and spoke to my reflection with my pinky out like I thought a princess might talk. “Daahhhhling…..I ahhhhbsolutely must have the honeysuckle lotion for my toes…”

  I leaned in closer to the mirror, what the? There was a scar on my face. I had never seen it before, but there it was, stretching like a crescent moon along my jaw line. I tried to rub it away with my fingers, thinking it was a bruise or a shadow. I couldn’t believe it was there.

  Quickly, I got dressed and ran out to the living room to find Dad.

  “Dad! Look at what I found!”

  He glanced at the scar. “Oh yeah, you never heard about that? I was changing you when you were a newborn on the counter at our friend’s house. Someone left an iron plugged in there. You just rolled over and hugged it to your chest. Third degree burns down both your arms and your face. Hospital kept you for two weeks, and there was a bunch of crap with CPS trying to investigate us. I’ll tell you this, the nurses said we weren’t fit to take care of you, but they were the ones who gave you a diaper rash.”

  My eyes grew wide as he talked. Dad nodded and said, “I can’t believe you never heard that story. You and I were buds when you were born.” He looked at me like he expected the bond to still be there. I gave a half smile and went back to collect my stuff from the bathroom.

  Dad and my stepmom left for work every day. They didn’t care what I did while they were gone, and I was giddy with all of the choices I had for my free time. Dad had given me the entire series of All Creatures Great and Small. I scrunched into the corner of the leather couch with a bowl of blueberries and read them, one after the other. The sentimental animal stories brought a genuine smile.

  In the afternoon, I watched T.V. with the freedom to turn the channels for the first time. Settling back on the couch, I watched Judge Judy and ate fruit rollups. I shook my head and giggled at the ridiculous arguments, the fruit roll-up hanging out of my mouth like a green tongue. It wasn’t long before the floor was littered with the long wax-papered curls.

  There were no restrictions with the food. I helped myself to grapes, granola bars, and yogurt. I was never hungry during those two weeks.

  On the weekend, Dad took me to the mall and bought me bags of new clothes for school. We visited a jewelry department where Dad bought me my first watch and a beautiful pair of gold earrings.

  “Ya like them?” he asked. I could only nod and stare at them in the mirror. He took me to a shoe store where the salesman measured my foot for the first time, and I walked out in a pair of expensive tennis shoes. I loved those shoes, and wore them until they fell apart.

  Mama called me every day while I was in Pennsylvania. She sounded supportive on the phone, her voice soft, “Oh, it must be so hard on you to be with your awful Dad. How is his anger problem? Has he hit you yet? It scares me honey, to know what he might do to you while you are there, and I am so far away. Are you ok?”

  Tears ran down my face. I sniffed and clutched the phone to my head until the ear piece dug into my ear, craving her sweet words. After the previous month of her silent treatment, my body went weak with relief to hear her voice.

  “Yes! Oh Mama, it’s so hard to be here!”

  Dad pulled up in the driveway, so I hung up the phone. He pounded up the steps, his finger pulling his tie lose from his neck. “Did you finish your math work today?” he asked. I gulped hard and shook my head. I had forgotten he wanted to check over the math problems he had given me that morning. His face flushed red. He went over to the liqueur cupboard and pulled out a bottle. “What are you, a Moron?” He shook his head and went to the kitchen for ice.

  His loud voice ripped at the fearful memories I had of standing in the corner. Even though he could be kind, he was still a scary stranger to me. Mama was all that I wanted.

  When the vacation ended, Dad and my stepmom both hugged me before I was dropped off at the airport terminal. Their arms squeezed tight around me, but we were all pretending. They didn’t know the real me, they only knew plastic CeeCee. My life was a secret, and they could never know more.

  During the airplane ride home I considered the different phone calls I had with Mama. I felt nauseous. At the end of the plane ride I would find out if Mama accepted me again. When I exited the plane down the stairs, I hesitated for a moment at the bottom and stared up at the starry sky. I didn’t want to know.

  The artificial lights and stale air gave me an instant headache when I walked into the terminal. Through the milling passengers I saw Adam’s arm shoot up. With my plastic smile firmly in place, I ran over. I slowly put my arms around Mama, barely touching her to give her an air hug. She stiffened, but had a smile on her face. The car ride home was silent except for their usual small talk in the front seat. I looked out the window and thought about the prize I had brought home for Mama. She would love it.

  We drove down the long driveway again, and the house stared at me with its dark, barred eyes, looking the same as it had the first night I had seen it. Adam brought in my luggage and set it down in the living room. I couldn’t wait any longer and unzipped my suitcase right where he left it. As I was digging through my packed clothing, I heard Adam and Mama start to giggle. When I turned back with her prize in my hands,
they were both pointing at me with smiles on their faces. Mama stopped laughing and twisted her face into an exaggerated look of disgust.

  She snorted, “Wow! What did you eat in Pennsylvania? You’re a real little Porker! You’ve turned into a fat butter ball. I can’t believe how round your butt is.”

  She mimed me by blowing out her cheeks, and held her arms out like a beach ball as she waddled a few steps. Still laughing, she took her gift from me and glanced at it before setting it on the side table.

  I knew how Mama hated fat people from the years of disparaging remarks she had made. It was true, I had gained a few pounds, but I was still underweight. Heat filled my cheeks. I wanted to run and hide from their pointing fingers and mean laughter.

  She didn’t speak to me again after that night. As the weeks went by she kept up the relentless silent treatment. She would never forgive my secret. There was nothing I could do to fix it. I wondered how much worse it would get, but could never have prepared for the change that was coming right around the corner.

  Chapter 17

  ~Two Unexpected Homes~

  Summer was over, although the hot days continued into September. I was caught between a tailspin of emotions that I tried to bury, and school days, where my friends complained about mundane things such as small allowances and boring summer vacation trips. Life at home was different now, because all the torturous punishments had ended. Mama was still ignoring me and even had detached from that horrible connection with me. The first night back from Dad’s house I had stood hesitant in the kitchen holding my empty plate while they stepped around me, wondering if I was even allowed to eat.

  She no longer watched me with suspicion, and there were no longer lists of things that I had done wrong waiting for me. There were no doors being pounded on. She acted as though she didn’t have a care in the world and seemed extra jovial and outgoing with my stepdad. Her laughter rang through the house while her eyes looked right through me.