Hidden Voices (Tess Schafer-Medium)

by Deborah Hughes

  “Not sure what I think. It seems quite far-fetched. But since Brid died then began to come around and keep me company, I’m suddenly open to possibilities that I never would have considered before.”

  “Piecing together what I have so far, I really think Buck was involved with a girl's death and that's why this curse legend was born. If the red guy I saw at the Tenney house is connected to her somehow, then it could be he is a distant relative or something.”

  Rid frowned and shook his head. “I’ve certainly never heard of Indians casting spells and giving out curses.”

  “The belief is that Colonel Buck had a witch put to death, right? Well, we just determined that a medicine woman would be the equivalent of a witch.” Again I felt excitement trip across my skin. My heart began to pound a little harder and I knew that we were getting close to the truth of the matter. “Are there any other buildings around here that were still standing when Colonel Buck was alive?”

  “Yes, several. Why?”

  “Which ones?”

  Rid laughed softly at my eagerness. “Well the most famous one is the Tenney house of course. It was an Inn back then and on a stagecoach route. But another house that factored pretty prominently in our town’s history is Dawn Rowan’s house.”

  My heart bumped in my chest and I coughed in response. Dawn Rowan? What an interesting coincidence. “Really?”

  Rid tilted his head and looked at me with sudden, avid interest. “Do you know Dawn Rowan?”

  “No, but I am having dinner with them this evening.” I glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel and realized with a bit of alarm that I was due to arrive there in ten minutes. “I told them I’d be there at six.”

  Rid glanced at the clock as well and pulled a face to show his disappointment. “This conversation is quite fascinating. I hate to let you go.”

  “Does the Rowan family know their house’s history?”

  “I would think they know more about it than anyone.” Rid’s answer was a bit stiff and it made me curious. Were there bad feelings between the two families?

  Although I would have loved to stay a bit longer and probe for more answers, I stood up and smiled my thanks as Rid stood as well. “Thank you so much for your time and for allowing me to keep these.” I held up the copper box. Rid waved away my thanks and motioned for me to precede him down the hallway to the door. He shuffled slowly behind. “I do hope we can get together again soon, Rid.” Impulsively I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around his bony shoulders to give him a quick hug. “I’ll keep you abreast of my findings.”

  “Thank you so much, dear, I would really appreciate that. And I very much would like to get with you again to talk some more.” He helped me slip on my sweater then stood in the doorway and watched as I got into my car and pulled out of the driveway. He was still standing there as I drove off for the next part of this very exciting afternoon.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Barbara told me that Mary’s family home was near the end of Bucksport’s business district and across from the massive paper mill. It was on the same street as Rid’s home but in the opposite direction. Barbara said the Rowans owned a large tract of land which sat pretty high up from the main street through town and had a great view of the river and the fort. Sympathetic as she was to Dawn's plight, Barbara's opinion on the matter was that they should have sold the house before getting to this point. It was worth a mint, she said, but the Rowans would end up with nothing and that was such a shame. Honestly, Barbara was a wealth of information and I felt rather guilty to learn as much as I did about the Rowan family’s business. Barbara, however, didn’t consider it gossip to share what she knew. To her way of thinking, she was doing nothing more than imparting facts. “The house is old as Hades, but very impressive. A beautiful Victorian. The upkeep is pretty extensive and the family just can’t maintain it. Such a shame for it to go to waste but…well, you’ll see.”

  Those words rang in my ears as I crested a hill and saw the house in question. Just as the case with Rid’s house, there was no way I could miss it. The older homes around here, it seemed, had gone for size. It was a large three-story house with three chimneys. The rooftop was flat, its sides steeply sloped. A windowed cupola took up center stage and was surrounded by a decorative balustrade, which meant there must be access to the gated area within. I could just imagine myself up there in a comfortable chair, soaking up the sun, enjoying the view, feeling like I was on top of the world.

  Another feature I found charming were the overhanging eaves edged with decorative brackets and cornices. The house was blue with white trim and in need of fresh paint. Still, it was a delightful house to look at. My eyes were again drawn to the cupola. They were, of course, a popular feature on homes built near the water. I could just imagine the view it afforded and thought if I owned the place, I’d be up there all the time. Although the mill property took up all the land across from the house, its large rambling structure was to the right of the house’s location and in no way blocked the magnificent view. The lot directly across the street and edging the river contained rail lines and little else.

  The driveway circled past the front steps of a wrap-around covered porch and ended at a two-car garage that was in pretty bad shape and probably no longer used for its intended purpose. Flower gardens that looked to have gone wild surrounded the perimeter of both the house and the garage. The lawn was in dire need of mowing. Though the front yard was somewhat limited, the back yard, from what I could see, looked quite extensive. Level with the house for maybe fifty feet or so, the lawn eventually sloped down and met up with the sidewalk edging Bucksport's Main Street. The lawn area to the right of the house ended at what looked like a little used side street. The property along that side was bordered by a dilapidated old fence that was missing slats in several places and sagging pitifully in others.

  Slowed to a near stop as I was, I felt nothing but visual appreciation for the Rowans' home and anticipation for my visit with them, but when I pulled into the driveway I would almost swear I'd just entered a new dimension. My attention was immediately altered and I went on full psychic alert. Two vehicles were parked in front of the garage, an old Ford pickup truck, its green paint quite faded, and a shiny blue Volkswagen Beetle.

  Although the air felt as though it crackled with excited energy and movement, it also seemed eerily still. My skin broke out in goose bumps and the hairs on the back of my neck began to stand on end. With my heart racing and pulse jumping with wild abandon, I had to catch my breath and consciously will myself to calm down. Was it just anticipation causing all this excitement? Ever since Rid told me the house was around during Buck’s time, I couldn’t wait to get here. Why that was the case, I couldn't say since Rid's house was around during Buck's time too and that hadn't yielded anything unusual. His wife's spirit being there was not unusual, not for me anyway, so that didn't count. No, what I felt now was significantly different.

  I pulled in behind the pickup truck then sat for a moment to calm my skittering excitement. Senses heightened to an incredible degree, it was like I’d just plugged into some sort of spiritual energy socket, and as I stepped out of the car, I felt quite invincible. I wanted to run like the wind because I could. I wanted to jump for the clouds because I could. Was this how Superman would have felt had he been real? Truly, I felt as though I possessed unimaginable power. It was such an incredible feeling that I had to stand there a moment and bask in it.

  “Tess?”

  Startled from my sensual euphoria, I swung around and saw that I had something of an audience. Three people stood watching me, a guy about twenty or so, very tall, very muscular, barrel chest, huge; Mary, who stood in the middle and looked weak in comparison, and on the other side of Mary a tall thin woman who had to be their mother. She was not the white-haired, downtrodden woman I was expecting. Despite the impending loss of her home, she looked serene and unflustered. She was slightly taller than Mary, ramrod straight and thin but not in a frail way. Her b
rown hair was peppered with gray and looked good on her. Some women just looked good in gray. I hoped I’d be as lucky though I also hoped I didn’t have to worry about it for a good long while.

  Mary and her brother had the darkest eyes I’d ever seen. Dawn’s were brown but more like a milk-chocolate brown. Although I noted Mary’s strange eye color when I met her, it was a bit unnerving to have two sets of black eyes staring at me. Mary’s gaze was welcoming, of course, and that put me a bit at ease but her brother looked distrustful. Considering everything, I felt as if I’d just stepped into some sort of bizarre paranormal novel. Good Lord, were they going to turn into wolves and eat me for dinner? The thought was absurd and I wanted to laugh except I couldn’t seem to react. Frozen in complete stillness, I simply stared. Then Mary smiled and stepped forward.

  “It’s good to see you again.” She turned and pointed her hand to the young man standing beside her. “This is my brother Adam.”

  At well over six feet and built solid, he looked as hard as stone when he stepped forward and offered his hand. Why I was reluctant to take it, I cannot say. His hand was large and firm, his fingers callused. Probably from all the weightlifting he obviously engaged in. His aura was like an impenetrable fortress around him. “Hi, Adam. Nice to meet you.”

  His dark eyes, like two obsidian pieces of rock, stared at me for a long quiet moment. I had the uncomfortable feeling that he was trying to read me in some way. “Same here.” His voice was deep and husky. He let go of my hand and stepped back.

  Relieved to get that particular introduction over with, I turned to look at Mary’s mother and she stepped forward to shake my hand as soon as we made eye contact. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Dawn.”

  “It’s nice to meet you as well. Thank you so much for inviting me over for dinner.”

  Dawn’s eyes were not intimidating but they were very observant. Her hands were not soft, they were callused and firm. They looked like hands that lived a rough life. Work hands. “Please, come on inside.” Dawn released my hand and turned toward the house. She glanced for a moment toward the mill and closed her eyes briefly. Wondering what she was doing, I pretended not to notice. After the slightest of pauses, she headed for the porch steps. Mary waved for me to follow ahead in front of her and I did so.

  My back crawled with the knowledge that Adam was boring a hole through it. Never had I felt so intimidated by anyone in my life. He didn’t seem threatening and yet I felt I needed to have defensive shields up.

  We entered a spacious hallway with a staircase directly in front of us. Double doors leading into what looked like a sitting room was off to my right. Dawn led us through the open doors on our left. We entered a very spacious living room. A huge fireplace, built with a reddish stone that appeared to be granite, dominated the wall to our right and faced the row of windows overlooking the overgrown flower garden I’d noted earlier. Dawn walked to the black leather couch facing the fireplace and sat down. It was one of the longest couches I’d ever seen. It could easily fit six people upon it. It seemed silly to sit anywhere else so I sank down beside her. Adam sat in a matching easy chair near the right end of the sofa, facing us, and Mary sat next to me on my right. I felt surrounded and wondered about that. Where else did I expect they would sit?

  The air continued to buzz with silent static. It was a wonder our hair wasn’t standing up on end. The picture that brought to mind made me want to laugh but somehow I managed to stifle it. Instead, I turned to Mary. She didn’t look as weighted down with problems as the last time I saw her but I knew the same feelings lurked within her. She was trying to hide them from her family. The serene look on her face looked practiced and I knew her mother and brother were not fooled.

  Aside from the excitement I could feel swirling around me, I also could smell the aroma of baking bread and tomato sauce wafting through the air. “Dinner smells delicious, Mary. Thank you again for inviting me.”

  Mary waved away my thanks. “We don’t get a lot of company so we should be thanking you for accepting the invitation.” She tilted her head in a speculative look as she studied me, looking very much like I was something of an enigma. “We never got around to the reason why you came to Bucksport? Do you have family here?”

  Adam leaned forward at this point, resting his forearms on his legs; his jeans stretched tight over massive thighs and clasped his large hands in front of him. “Mary says you are a ghost whisperer.”

  “Adam, if she wants to talk about that, we should let her introduce the subject.” Dawn gave her son a sharp look and something passed between them.

  Uncomfortable yet again, I shifted in my seat hoping to dispel my apprehension. I wasn’t afraid of them, but something wasn’t right here. “It’s okay, Dawn. If it was a secret, I wouldn’t have told Mary.” I met Adam’s eyes briefly before shifting my gaze to the fireplace. It was massive. I was using that word a lot. Massive. Everything just seemed so extraordinarily more here. The fireplace looked like I could easily sit in it without crouching. “I came to Bucksport because I heard about the Jonathan Buck stone being cursed by a witch and wanted to check it out.”

  Dawn gave a thoughtful nod, looking like she wasn’t surprised in the least at my reason for being there. “It’s an interesting legend to be sure. When we were kids, we used to dare each other to go into that graveyard. We were all so sure the witch’s spirit wandered around there.”

  “Why?” My interest was immediately caught as I wondered if perhaps the cemetery had mysterious stories attached to it.

  Dawn laughed. “Because we were kids and we made up stuff to scare the heck out of each other. There were never any reports of anything spooky happening there but it didn’t matter. The suggestion was made and that was all we needed.”

  “Do you believe in the legend, Dawn?” Considering her strong ties to the town, I was particularly interested in her views on the whole thing.

  Dawn’s thinly arched brows, still brown and nicely shaped, drew together as she gave the question some thought. “I don’t know what to think.” She gave a slight shiver and folded her arms in response.

  Even as I noticed it, a chill passed through me as well. Somehow, though, I managed to control the shiver. The sudden drop in temperature was almost instant. A spiritual doorway had just opened and the cold it brought through slithered around us and stilled. I knew the other three in the room felt it but no one made comment. A light brush of cobwebs caressed my face and I closed my eyes for a brief grateful moment. Sheila’s spirit was near and in protective mode. Although I was pretty occupied with what was happening in the netherworld, I knew I had to somehow keep up the appearance that all was normal. “I thought I’d stick around for a few days and check it out.” It felt important just then that they know why I was here in Bucksport. All three of them looked at me speculatively and I wondered at the thoughts crawling through their minds.

  “Why? What’s to gain from that?” Adam crossed his big arms over his barrel chest and narrowed his gaze. Clearly he didn’t trust me. I was pretty sure at this point that he'd be happy to have me get up and leave. I wondered why? Because I talk to spirits? Did he have a problem with that? A lot of people did. I thought of Modesta, the receptionist at Sea Willow Haven. She remained convinced I was in league with the devil. Even after everything that happened, she still didn’t trust me.

  “I’m just curious as to what started such a rumor. Have you never wondered about it?” Ignoring Adam, I turned to Mary then Dawn, but it was Adam, however, who responded first.

  “I’ve never given that stupid legend any thought.” He shook his head in a manner that said he thought the whole thing preposterous and it suddenly dawned on me that he and Mary had dark complexions. Either they tanned well or it was their natural coloring. I guessed the latter was the case considering they also had black hair and black eyes.

  I turned to Mary. Her expression looked strained and I knew she was concerned by her brother’s attitude and how it would affect me
. I gave her a "don't worry about it" smile and her tensed shoulders relaxed a little. “It’s just curiosity on my part. I’ve nothing else to keep me occupied these days.”

  “So what have you learned?” Mary asked.

  “Nothing yet. Although, I am learning some interesting facts about Maine and the area.” I leaned toward her, eager to share what I'd just learned but also hoping the conversation would lead to something useful. “Have you ever heard of the Red Paint Indians?”

  Mary’s dark brows, exact replicas of her brother’s, arched high. “It sounds vaguely familiar.” She looked at her mother, a question in her eyes.

  “They used to live right here in the area,” Dawn said. “But they disappeared and no one knows why. My understanding is their tribe was completely wiped out. Probably because we killed them all.”

  Adam scowled at his mother’s choice of words. “We?”

  Dawn waved a hand as if indicating an invisible crowd of guilty murderers. “When the Europeans came to America, the Indians either migrated elsewhere or stayed to fight. Not that it did them much good for we had the unfair advantage of guns.”

  “That’s true, Dawn, but in the case of the Red Paint Indians, they disappeared thousands of years before our arrival on America’s shores.” Remembering my conversation with Rid, it seemed strange to be having it again so soon. “It was through the discovery of their grave sites that any knowledge of them came to light.”

  Dawn gestured toward the fireplace though her words indicated she was actually waving toward the area across the street. “One of those burial grounds was found right across from where we live as a matter of fact.”