But first to get my room in order. The anticipation of writing took hold, however, and I couldn’t wait to get my unpacking duty done. In fact, I abandoned the project with only my toiletry bag left to finish and headed for the laptop. Who was I to argue with spirit?
CHAPTER FIVE
My heart pounding in anticipation, I put my fingers to the keyboard and waited for the words to come. Although traffic was busy outside my windows, the sounds were muted and didn’t hinder my concentration. Besides, traffic was a constant back home so I was used to the noise. Wondering what sort of story was going to form next, I could hardly wait to get to it. Luckily, it wasn't long before the words started flowing, the images that accompanied them clear and vivid in my mind.
The plants Isi sought were in healthy abundance throughout the small meadow she came across while gathering kindling for the ritual fires. She took care to note the location for her return because there was no way she would not come, despite the risk. Her brother needed those plants.
Collecting them would take precious minutes. A task that was once a mundane routine was now fraught with danger. The strange man who steals spirits was everywhere it seemed. Isi dropped low to the grass, confident the tall plant stalks, growing so thickly, would keep her hidden from view. Quiet and efficient, she made quick work of collecting her bounty. Time, she knew, was of the essence. No time, no time. Hurry. Hurry. The litany rang through her head until she felt she had collected enough for their needs.
Isi closed the flap on her leather pouch then went still. In a flash of knowing, she knew she was no longer alone. Heart pounding loud in her ears, Isi flattened herself to the ground and waited in silence, her rapid breathing mixing with the breeze blowing in gentle whispers through the grass.
She heard nothing, but they were there. Somewhere. Close. So close. Time slowed to a crawl then came to a point where Isi knew she must make a move. Since a run for it would make her an easy target, she began a quick belly crawl. If she could make it to the woods, and she hadn’t ventured far from them, then she might have a chance. The fear racing through her made it difficult to move but she managed it somehow. Almost there, she could see the thicket just ahead. Then someone grabbed her arm and yanked hard. Gasping with pain and shock, she was pulled upright, stumbling at the careless handling to which she was subjected. Her captor grabbed her flailing free arm and swung her around to face him.
The man holding her so painfully tight looked like no man she had ever seen. Where did such a person come from and why did the Knowing One bring him to her on this day, the one day she ventured alone to do what needed to be done to save her brother? She thought of Siem, normally so big and strong, now lying weak and still on his pallet, and her heart hurt for him. His illness worsened each day. He needed medicine and despite the danger, Isi meant to get it. Otherwise his fever would continue to rage.
With a heavy spirit, Isi knew she had failed him. Pain lanced through her heart as the realization hit her that she would never see him or the rest of her family again. The elders were clear in their telling of the danger they faced. “If the strange man who stalks the woods raises his magic stick and points it at you, he will steal your spirit and you will go into darkness.”
So many of her people, she thought sadly, one by one…gone. They suffered so much already, hiding, moving, trying to survive in a hostile world that did not seem to understand anything.
Their difficult survival was nothing, however, to the dangers they faced with this new threat amongst them. Her people moved steadily, never staying in one place for more than a few days in an effort to avoid the men who suddenly appeared in their land carrying a magic they did not understand. Isi’s people learned fast that the strange stick they carried took their spirit and ended their time of growth and learning.
Despite these risks, Isi knew she had no choice but to try and get the medicine. Her tribe needed her brother. She needed him. Fear clutched at her chest and tightened her throat making it hard to breathe. She could only hope her failure did not mean her brother would pass into the land of darkness.
She stared into the disturbing eyes of the man scowling down at her. They were a strange color, like that of the sea when angry. Isi lowered her gaze, unable to look at them any longer. What did it mean to have eyes that color? Was there magic in his gaze as well? His skin coloring was just as strange. It was a lighter shade than hers and covered in hair that was the color of the grass during the late fall. It seemed to cover his entire body, even his face, though it was longer and thicker there. If he were not shaped like a man, she would think him some sort of animal. Did the Knowing One send him? If so, why? Isi wanted to prostrate herself at this strange man’s feet and beg for his mercy, but his biting fingers held her steady.
Although they stood staring at each other for only seconds it seemed much longer than that, an eternity of time going on and on. Then he started making strange noises and the hold on her arm tightened. His grip was like that of the big bird’s talons. Isi bit her lip to keep from crying out.
The sound of another voice from behind him made Isi look up. A woman came rushing toward them looking anxious. Her head was wreathed in hair that shined like the sun, the color similar to the little flowers that bloomed brightly in early spring. Her eyes were the color of the sky at dawn. Although they both wore strange material on their body, the likes of which Isi had never seen before, the woman’s covering was loose and flowing compared to his which wrapped his big body closely. They spoke in a language Isi did not understand but it was clear she was the topic of their discussion. Her fate, she knew, was being discussed. She bowed her head in silent communication to the Knowing One. If she had displeased him, she asked for a chance to once again make him happy with her.
After a quick length of time in which each took turns speaking and gesturing, Isi was thrust toward the woman, and the man of the light colored hair that covered his body began to walk away. It was then she noticed his magic stick slung over his shoulder. She was told that it thundered loud and stole souls. The woman took a firm hold of Isi’s hand and pulled her along with them. They headed for the woods in the opposite direction of Isi’s people. Hastily, she slipped the pouch from her shoulder, allowing it to fall to the ground. Her people would find it and they would know what happened. More importantly, they could use the plants to save her brother without having to take precious time to gather them. Isi looked back in the direction of her people, sadness engulfing her as she did so. She would see them no more.
Gripped with apprehension, I stopped writing. So what was this about? Now somewhat familiar with the process, having done it at Sea Willow Haven, I knew this story was significant to what I was about to discover during my time here in Bucksport. How and if it was significant to the cursed monument, I had no idea. What I found strange about this particular piece of writing was the fact that the girl Isi (a strange name I would look up to see if it had any special meaning) did not know how to label the things she saw and felt and experienced. She acted more on instinct and knowing. It was me, as the writer, who put her thoughts into specific words. Writers do that anyway but this was different. For instance, the plants she was gathering was yarrow. Isi did not call it that, if she called it anything. I am not very educated when it comes to plants but I know a little. Just as sage is used for cleansing, I know that yarrow is used to reduce fever. I am not an herbalist and never would be. Not because I didn’t believe herbs to have value, I did, but I was just too lazy to learn more about them. In any case, Isi mentioned her brother having a fever and that triggered a memory of someone telling me that the yarrow plant, a weed to most people, and something that grew all over the northeast, was used to reduce fever. I wasn’t sure why Isi found the man and woman she encountered strange. Since the story most likely stemmed from the local area, Isi had to be from Maine. If this was indeed the case then the man and woman who took her were from elsewhere. It was an easy deduction to make since Isi had never seen the likes of them before
, finding their appearance strange and unfamiliar.
Since I was investigating a curse that took place during the time of Colonel Buck’s colonization of Bucksport, I would make a guess that Isi was a native Indian. The state was teeming with them when the colonists started arriving. Explorers were coming to Maine long before Buck and his people settled here and I felt pretty sure the timeframe for the story had to be much earlier than that. Isi's reaction to seeing her captors was a pretty good indication that the story took place during the time when the Native Indians and the Europeans first began to encounter each other. The magic stick Isi referred to was obviously a rifle.
The story was a bit confusing to me because I thought the native Indians were friendly toward the European settlers at first? Some, like the Iroquois were never quite friendly, resenting the white man’s advancement into their world, but I didn’t recall reading about there being a problem in Maine. For sure I was going to have to look it up. My knowledge of history was pretty bad. Practically non-existent.
It really puzzled me to have this story coming through. What did the Indians have to do with the witch’s curse? Maybe they didn’t. Really, I hoped the story developed enough that I could learn more of this intriguing mystery. One thing it did do, however, was help me start my investigation. I would check into the relationship with the Indians that Colonel Buck and his people experienced. One thing would lead to another. Surely. In any case, my heart went out to Isi. I could picture her clearly in my mind and she was quite young, twelve or thirteen at the oldest. My fear was that this story would not end well.
Heaving a sigh, I had to accept the fact that in light of my ability, death was usually involved. And though it wasn’t supposed to be sad for the one who died, it sure was sad for those left behind. And besides, how one died was not always pleasant. It was the violence of those particular deaths that I did not like learning about. How frightening to go through the last moments of life in violence.
Giving a shudder, I glanced at the clock on the nightstand and grabbed my sweater. Maybe I’d just go for dinner. I needed a break and I was getting hungry. Besides, I needed to do something to lift my spirits. My sadness for Isi was casting a pall over my feelings and robbing me of my initial enthusiasm for uncovering the truth behind the monument’s curse.
.. .. ..
Bucksport really was a small town. It had one major street where most all of its businesses were located. I stepped out of the B&B and stood for a moment as I tried to decide where it was I wanted to eat. To my right was a restaurant about two minutes away. To my left and about ten minutes away was a Chinese place. Then, of course, there were the convenience stores with pizzas and subs. I decided a quiet dinner would fit my mood and so I went right. Barbara said it was an upscale restaurant with booths that helped hide one’s lack of company. Why it bothered me to eat alone, I don’t know. For some reason, I felt everyone would look and wonder why I had no one with whom to eat. I didn’t want to be the object of speculation. But then again, what did it matter what anyone thought? Trying to hold on to that bit of bravado, I walked with purpose right up to the restaurant and stepped inside with as much unconcern for my lack of companionship as I could muster. I saw Ted almost immediately. He was emerging from what I assumed to be the restroom and he spotted me right away.
“Hey, Tess! I wondered if you’d end up here.” He broke into a smile when he saw me and came over to shake my hand. “I should have just asked if you wanted to eat together. Would that be okay? Would you care to join me?”
“Hi, Ted. If you want the company, then I’ll be happy to join you but please don’t feel that you must ask me to do so.” I felt somewhat awkward and uncomfortable though I couldn’t really say why. It wasn’t like we were going on a date. And yet I had to wonder what his wife would think about him eating with a woman she didn’t know.
“I really would like the company. I was just sitting there a few moments ago asking myself why I hadn’t asked you when you asked Barbara about a place to eat but I didn’t want you to…well…” Now he looked uncomfortable. “I wasn’t sure if you’d think…” Again he stuttered to a stop.
“As long as you are sure your wife won’t mind, Ted, then I will be happy to have dinner with you. I don’t want to upset anyone though.” His very actions told me he wasn’t out to score anything but companionship with dinner.
“I’ll call her right now and let her know what I’m doing if it will make you feel any better. She’ll be very jealous, though, because my wife loves anything to do with the paranormal and when she hears you are a medium, she’s going to be mad that she didn’t come with me.” Ted grinned and waved a hand toward the dining room. “My table is there by the window.” He turned to the waitress who stood a respectable distance away. “She’ll be joining me at my table.”
The waitress gave a smiling nod. “Okay, I’ll be right over to get her drink order.”
As soon as we were settled, Ted pulled his cell phone from his blazer pocket and called his wife. I listened as he told her that a new guest at the B&B checked in today and that I was a medium who was here to look into the story about a cursed tombstone. He gave a dramatic pause then added with a teasing smugness to his voice, “And now I’m having dinner with her because neither one of us dug the idea of eating alone and I’m going to pump her for information about ghosts. How about that?” I heard a squeal and then rapid talking. Ted listened with a grin split all over his face, twirling his finger at the phone to indicate how excited his wife was. “Yes, honey, I’ll ask her. Yes, dear. Okay, honey. I said okay.” The waitress stopped at our table and Ted said hastily, “Honey, hey, I gotta go, okay? I’ll call you later. Love you.” He set his phone down and folded his arms over his chest in a self-satisfied manner. “She’s going to be all over me tonight when I call her for she’s going to want to know every detail of our conversation.” He then waved a hand toward the waiting waitress. “I already have my drink so go ahead and give her your order.”
“I’ll just have unsweetened iced tea, thank you.”
The waitress smiled in acknowledgment of my order and handed me a menu. “I’ll be right back with your drink and take your dinner orders.”
Once we were again alone, Ted leaned on the table with his folded arms. “Do you think the Tenney house is haunted? Is that why you really want to see it? Do you think Colonel Buck is haunting it?”
“I can’t say one way or the other, Ted, as to the place being haunted for I haven’t been there yet. I explained why I want to see it and I assure you, there is no other hidden agenda. I truly believe I might be able to pick up something about Colonel Buck there because he actually walked on the floors and put his imprint in the woodwork that is there.”
Interested though skeptical, Ted’s gaze did not waver from mine. I think he was looking for any telltale signs that I was pulling one over on him. “How do you leave an imprint?”
“We are all beings of energy. In fact, all things exist as an energy form. When energy meets energy, a transference of some sort takes place. It is either conducted, repelled or absorbed. Wood absorbs. So, if Colonel Buck was in that house as I'm sure he was, some of his energy was absorbed into the wood. I'm hoping to tap into that and get some impressions from it.”
The waitress returned right at that point and I stopped for a moment to concentrate on the task of ordering dinner. Clam chowder was the soup of the day and both Ted and I ordered it. I then selected broiled scallop for the main course and Ted ordered fried clams. Once our selections were given, the waitress collected our menus and hurried away with a promise that it wouldn’t be long.
Ted didn’t waste any time getting back into the conversation. “So you tap into the energy left in the house and that’s how you do your psychic thing?”
“Well, in the sense that you probably mean, I am not a psychic. I don’t make predictions or foretell the future in any way. I can’t read minds or see ailments or anything like that. I just pick up on the energy people l
eave behind to try and connect with them.” I gave a small shrug because I just wasn’t sure how I was to explain this. “Physicists believe the past, present, and future all exist at once.” When Ted nodded to indicate that he had heard that, I went on with my explanation. “Well, if that’s the case, then Colonel Buck could be in that building the same time as we are. I’m hoping to pick up on that and maybe make contact.” It was my theory and my hope anyway. Ted was clearly fascinated by the idea.
“So what do you plan to do? Are you going to ask him about the tombstone?”
“I’m not sure what will happen. I like to play it by ear.”
“Can you summon anyone you want from the spirit world?”
My stomach muscles tightened slightly with apprehension. Here was the gist of my problem. When people learned I was a medium and believed it…they often wanted me to contact someone for them. A perfectly normal reaction to be sure, but here I had to tread carefully. I wanted Ted to let me into the Tenney house and if he wanted me to make contact for him and it didn’t go the way he wanted it to go, would he then be less willing to help me out? “Usually.”
Ted stared at his drink. It was a beer, a dark ale from the looks of it and nearly gone. “My wife thinks she can do that but I’m not sure I believe her.” He gave a heavy sigh. “The fact is, she hasn’t brought anyone through that anyone recognizes and most everyone thinks she’s faking it. Finally she stopped talking about it but she’s always watching shows on it and reading about it. I want to believe her when she says she’s getting messages from beyond but…” He looked up at me and searched my face, his own expression carefully blank.
Hidden Voices (Tess Schafer-Medium) Page 6