Frances’s hand lifted, hesitated and touched the girl’s shoulder lightly. It was then that I saw the signet ring.
“Hey! That ring. It was you I bumped into!” I called out in a loud voice.
She’d heard me.
I could feel a tingle rush down my arms and legs and through my body. She twisted her head sharply to look in my direction. I stood like an idiot gaping at her. Did she see me, too? She blinked rapidly, tilting her head to one side. A brown hand came up to shade her eyes — eyes of piercing blue that seemed to hold me to the spot. Too terrified to move, I looked at the girl, but she was gazing around searching for whatever had caught Frances’s attention.
I stepped back, looking down to make sure that I didn’t trip over anything. It wouldn’t have mattered because my feet weren’t there. Or my arms — or my legs. I wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
Frantically I searched for myself. I felt around but couldn’t see my hands feeling my body, although I felt a faint pricking of pins and needles at each spot I touched. Horrified, I looked up and saw the same amazement in Frances’s eyes. I felt for the glasses and in one hard pull they were off. As I lay in a heap, waiting for the roller coaster to grind to a halt, one thing kept pounding in my head. She saw me. Frances Rain saw me.
Chapter Nineteen
I CLIMBED into the canoe and backpaddled away from the landing rock, my arms and legs on automatic. Only when I’d reached what I considered a safe distance away did I look back. Rain Island sat there just like normal, cooling its feet in the clear green water around it. I was finally beginning to feel the knots in my back unwind, when something flickered at the edge of my eye.
I felt my eyeballs swell. A small boat was drifting around the edge of the island. An arm lifted and waved in the distance, beckoning, summoning, the water dripping off the oars in silver-threaded beads. Was she coming after me? I swivelled in my seat and paddled hard for home. The Beetle weaved across the bay like a drunk driver in a go-kart. I heard the creak of oars behind me, coming hard at my back.
“Hey! Stringbean! Slow down!”
Alex’s voice came through the roaring of my ears. Real terror makes you deaf, I’ve discovered.
I stared at the boat streaming up behind me. When I saw who it was, I slid off the seat and banged my knees on the Beetle’s ribs. I let out a couple of lumberjack curses I didn’t even know I knew.
“Hey, hold it!” he said, laughing. “Where did you learn words like that?”
“I don’t know.” I looked around for the culprit.
“Your gran would wash your mouth out with coal oil, not plain old soap, if she heard you right now.” He brought the boat a little closer. “You okay, Lizzie? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He propped one dripping oar onto the side of the boat.
I shook my head and managed a shaky smile. If only he knew.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I forgot my watch and I wasn’t sure how late it was. I didn’t want Tim out trying to rescue me again.”
“Tim? Rescue you? When?”
I told him about my adventure in the storm. Talking made me feel better. When he started to laugh loudly, I felt the tension oozing away.
I guess I was staring, because he stopped laughing and we looked at each other, and then we both looked away at the same time. Maybe I was going crazy. Nothing seemed normal anymore.
“What the heck were you doing on Rain Island, and how come you were paddling away like wolves were after you?” he asked, fiddling with the oarlock.
“Please don’t tell Evan I was there, or he’ll come over and push his way in and ruin everything.”
“Ruin everything? Like what?”
I hesitated, then decided to trust him. Only so far, though.
“Have you ever heard about Frances Rain? The one the island’s named after?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard she lived on the island. She died years ago.”
“Do you know anyone who might remember her?”
He shrugged. “Nah. Well ... maybe old Harvey might.”
“Well, I’ve been digging around her cabin site. Looking for keepsakes. I thought I might find out more about her.” I leaned forward. “And you know what? She had a table with blue dots and tulips all over it. And I’m pretty sure she sat at it looking out a window.” That sounded dumb. “I mean, she looked over this very bay. It makes her seem so ... real ... you know?” I shivered.
He frowned and shook his head, then stared at the island. “Hey, maybe that’s who Tim saw last night. The Ghost of Frances Rain.”
I smiled weakly. “Maybe he did.”
“If she’s still around, how do you know she doesn’t hate you digging around her place?” he asked.
We were both staring at the island now.
“Alex?”
“Mmmm?”
“Why do you think she might not like it? Are you serious?”
“Well, after Tim told us about seeing something, and after I left you last night,” here he gave me a look through narrowed eyes, “I got to remembering when I came to the island to pick cranberries with May on the east shore. I was just a kid. May told me that some lady had lived there, and she acted kind of funny about it. I remember we talked in whispers and she wouldn’t let me go to the middle of the island. The only reason she’d come was because it was a dry year and the cranberries weren’t any good, and she knew that Rain Island had good ones no matter what. When we left, she said something about it not being worth it.”
“The middle of the island is where the cabin is. Or was. Do you think maybe Tim saw her ghost last night?”
He shrugged. “Ghosts? I don’t know. I know that May says there’s a spirit in everyone. Once she said that if a person hasn’t finished something important when they die, sometimes the spirit stays close by until they get the job done.”
I felt the hair rise along my neck. Did Frances have a job to do? Did the girl? And where did I come in to this?
Alex wasn’t too concerned about ghosts, obviously, because he changed topics in mid-stream.
“By the way, I was on my way to your place when my motor conked out. I’m supposed to ask you if you want to come over tonight for blueberry pie and a game of backgammon with May. She figured you’d be ready to come over by now, so she made you her first pies of the season. Fresh this morning.” He sounded almost eager, and I guess he heard it too because he shrugged and said, “It’s up to you. Makes no difference to me.”
“Okay. Sounds good. Will you pick me up?”
“Yeah. I gotta get Harv too. He gets worked up if he misses out on May’s first blueberry pie.”
“Okay.”
“Well, I guess I’d better get a move on,” he said.
“Yeah. Okay.”
But he kept hanging on to the canoe.
“So did you find anything to bring home from your dig?”
“No. I Suddenly I remembered what I’d left behind. “Oh no! I forgot my tape recorder and my sketchbook and ... and
“Where?”
“On the island. I can’t go back,” I cried. “I’ve gotta go back. Oh no!”
“You sound like your tape recorder got stuck in rewind,” he laughed.
“I left everything ... you know ... when I saw ... it was ... I’ve got to get my stuff. What if it rains? No, I’ll leave it. But I can’t.” I felt like pulling my hair out. I began to backpaddle away but he held on.
“Did something scare you off the island? Is that it?”
“I’ve got to get back,” I said, poking at the edge of his boat with my paddle. “Let go! I’ve got to —”
Still he hung on. “I’ll take you. We’ve drifted halfway down the lake. You’ll have a heck of a time paddling into this wind.”
“I can do it. I’ve done it all my life. I know how to get around in a
canoe, even if I am a dumb city person,” I snapped. “Let go, okay? Just let go.”
“Have it your way. Just wanted to help,” he snapped back. “You’re running a close neck-and-neck race with Evan for pill of the year. I don’t know why I bother with you.”
He let go of the canoe and gave it a little push. A gust of wind turned me around on a dime. I chewed my lip and stared at the now distant island. I couldn’t do it alone.
Chapter Twenty
“ALEX?”
“Yeah?”
“If you have time, I guess I’d like that tow to the island.” I had to shout the last part as the wind carried me along.
“I got time, I guess. City slicker.”
He pulled close and we grinned at each other. I climbed into the boat while he tied the Beetle’s rope to the oarlock. The island was bathed in the warm afternoon sunlight. I sat on the tip of the bow, my feet dragging in the water, while he rowed. When we reached the island, I stuck my foot out to keep the boat from crunching into the landing rock, and for just a second was surprised not to see Frances’s dock. I shook my head. It was getting harder and harder to figure out what I was really seeing. Alex walked up the flat slope.
“Coming?”
I stood rooted to the landing rock and nodded. In the distance I heard the sad cry of a loon. Alex walked back and stood in front of me. His long fingers wrapped around my chin and moved my head from side to side. I looked up.
“Good. At least you’re not catatonic. Blink,” he demanded. I blinked. “Good, good. Now open your mouth and say something.”
“Will you help me collect my stuff?” I croaked.
“Good. Voice still functioning. What did you see here? A bear?”
I shook my head.
“A snake?”
I sneered and shook my head.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot. You used to collect them. There’s only one thing left. Persons living or dead?”
I nodded, then slumped down on the rock. He crouched beside me, arms resting on his knees.
“Is it this ghost of Tim’s?”
I nodded again.
“A ghost? For real? Where?”
“I saw her at the cabin site, at the dock, on the path,” I said softly.
“Who?”
“Her. Them.”
“Her. You mean this Frances Rain person?”
“I think so.” I felt the tightness in my throat start to loosen. “It’s happened twice. Two days ago and today.”
“So that’s why you acted so mad last night.”
I nodded. “And today, when the cabin door opened and she —”
“Wait a second. Cabin doors opening? I’ve passed by this island lots of times, Lizzie. I hate to tell you this, but there are no cabins on this island. Not anymore, at least.”
“Well, there’s one in the middle of the island. Where your aunt wouldn’t take you. Just a few logs left. But I saw all of it when I saw her. The whole thing was standing there.”
“You saw the ghost of a cabin? In the flesh? I mean, in the wood?”
“Do you want to hear this or just kid around?”
“I’m all ears. Honest.”
“Okay. This is what I saw. I saw a cabin and five people. The guides don’t really count ’cause they didn’t do much. They were twins. Did you ever hear of twin Indian guides in the area?” I looked at him looking at me. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“Yes. Believe it or not, I do. And are you lucky or what? What an incredible experience. What was it like? How did you feel? Never mind, I can tell. Did anyone tell you you don’t suit pale green? Especially around the gills.”
“You really do believe me?”
“Sure, why not? You’ve never made up stories. If anything, you always tell things pretty straight out. That’s why you acted so weird last night. You couldn’t tell it like it was, without running the risk of looking nutty. Besides, no one could look like they’ve seen a ghost more than you do. Correction ... ghosts.” He grinned. “You’re just not the wild and crazy kind, Stringbean.”
“No, I’m not the wild and crazy kind. I’m just plain old boring Lizzie. No imagination, dull, boring Lizzie, that’s me.”
He stood up. “I didn’t mean that. I just meant that you’re not ... you know ... crazy. Hysterical. Nutso!” He was getting louder. “I don’t even know what we’re talking about half the time anymore. I say something and you jump all over me.”
I put my head down on my knees. He was right. I wasn’t making any sense. Nothing made any sense. “You want to hear something really crazy?” I said to my knees. “I mean, really crazy?”
“Sure,” he said, sitting down again.
“The crazy thing is I know I’ll put the glasses on again. I want to see more.”
“Glasses? What glasses? Maybe you’d better start at the beginning. Step by step.”
I went over the events again slowly, as much to set it clearer in my mind as to tell Alex. When I was finished, I lifted my head and looked at him. He was lying on his back, his arms above his head, long legs stretched out, black eyes watching me.
“Still think I’m not nuts, Alex?”
He gave that some long, serious thought. I hit him in the stomach. “Hey! That hurt.” But he was laughing.
“Well?”
“I never said you were normal, I said you weren’t crazy. If you were normal, you’d be dull, unimaginative and boring.”
It felt good to laugh. Suddenly he was on his feet, pulling me with him. His hands were hard and dry. And the rest was flesh-and-blood real. No ghost there. He pulled me towards the trees.
“Let’s collect this stuff of yours and look around.”
He walked through the flickering light towards the dreaded spot and I forced myself not to call out a warning. When I got there, he was standing over my dig, hands on hips.
“Great place for a cabin, eh? I’d love to live here. It feels ... special.”
I nodded. With Alex beside me I was almost able to enjoy the cool green stillness again.
“Would you help me put the tabletop and all the other stuff back again?” I asked. “And the moss?”
“Not going to dig around anymore?”
“Maybe later,” I said. “Right now, I want to sort out what happened to me here.”
He nodded. It took us a while to put everything back, but when we were through only the dark outlines around the moss patches showed that anyone had been mucking around.
“Where’s the glasses?” he asked.
“In my pocket.”
“Put them on now. While I’m here.”
“Are you nuts?” I backed away.
“Let me try them, then.” He put out a hand.
I had to laugh out loud when he put them on. “You look like an old-fashioned bank clerk. All you need is a stiff collar and cuffs.”
“Thanks. A dull and boring clerk? How can I get into the spirit of things with you giggling? Spirit of things. Get it?”
I couldn’t help a few more snickers at the frowning face behind the silly little glasses. He turned slowly around. Then he pushed them down and looked at me over the rims.
“How long did it take you to see something?”
“Almost right away. The first time, the whole place turned to autumn colours. The second time, it was spring. See anything?”
He squinted. “Nothing. Zilch.” He took them off. “Zero, darn it. How come you get to see things and I don’t?”
“‘Cause you’re not crazy.”
“Must be that,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “Loony Lizzie. Sad story indeed.”
I was angry until I saw the wicked smile. “You poor thing. You’re just jealous, that’s all.”
“Come on, no
w I’m here, you don’t have to be afraid.”
“But I am afraid. Maybe if we stood away from the cabin. Down by the shore. I wouldn’t bump into anyone. What do you think?”
“What if you put them on right here, in the middle of the cabin? Maybe you’d be inside it.”
“And what if I can’t get out?” I shivered.
“Okay, let’s move over here. Will you try it?”
“Okay. But only if you stay close by.”
He grinned. “My pleasure.”
Flustered, I stumbled towards a row of pine, leaned against a tree and put the glasses up to my eyes.
“See anything?”
“No.”
“Now?”
All I saw was the sunken site ahead, the cool green light, the pile of gear, and the sparkling lake.
“How about now? Am I here, for instance?”
“Yes, you are. And stop waving your hand in front of my eyes. It makes me dizzy.”
He ran to the cabin and waved. “Now? Not even the cabin?”
“Nope.” I wasn’t sure whether to feel glad or disappointed. I put the glasses in my pocket. “Funny, huh? Maybe I am nutso.”
He shrugged. “It’s like seances, poltergeists and stuff like that. Bring in another person and nothing happens. Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen before. Let’s go to your place. I’ll beg dinner off Terry. We’ll think things over on the way to my place. Hey, we could ask Harv about Frances Rain.”
“No kidding? That’s a great idea. We can pick his brain.”
“Picking old Harv’s brain may take some doing, but it’s worth a try. After dinner, you can use Terry’s boat to tow me back to the truck and then you’ll have a boat to come back home in. That damn motor of mine is ready for the dust heap.”
As we floated away from the island, I couldn’t help wondering if I’d ever see Frances again. Maybe the glasses had lost their ability to look into the past. I felt a strange sort of ache at the thought of not seeing her or the girl again.
I needn’t have worried. Frances and I had a long way to go.
Chapter Twenty-One
“YOUR family’s like a bunch of porcupines,” Alex said, bumping his truck around the deepest potholes on the dirt road. “Very prickly. What’s with all of you?” When I didn’t answer he said, “I mean, who stuffed the lemons in your mother’s mouth? It couldn’t have been Tim. He spends most of his time acting like it’s all his fault and trying to take them out. But she keeps slapping him down. And poor Terry. I think your gran’ll be glad to see the back ends of you guys.”
Who Is Frances Rain? Page 8