Gypsy Spirits

by Marianne Spitzer

  “Stop that! It’s cozy even in summer.”

  “If you don’t stop wearing that robe, you’ll start showing up at the table in curlers and read the paper the way my mom does.”

  “I’ll never be like your mom,” she said slamming the cabinet door.

  “Yes you will. I can see it now. I think I understand my father’s morning crankiness better after seeing this.”

  Annamarie put her tea cup on the table. “I’m not hungry.” She stormed out of the kitchen.

  “Hey,” Daniel called after her, “the toast is ready.”

  Too early for bickering, Annamarie hoped she could change Daniel’s attitude with a bit of morning fun. In the hall leading to the bedroom, she turned and said, “This is something your father will never see.”

  She dropped her robe to the floor and ran down the hall. Daniel caught her in the bedroom, and they toppled onto the bed.

  “I’m going to be late this morning,” he said.

  “You’re right.”

  His lips found hers and they began their journey to bliss when the phone rang. “Damn,” Daniel grumbled. “I have to get that. It’s probably my mom wondering where I am.”

  “Damn,” Annamarie agreed. She watched him leave the room. At least his mood improved.

  Walking back into the bedroom he said, “It was mom and she’s already upset I’m not there. I have to go see her about the car. Watch out for spirits today when you’re near the woods.”

  “Stop it, Daniel. You love to try and scare me, there are no spirits.”

  “You’re easy to scare, but in this case, it’s real and the spirits are in the woods.”

  “If you don’t stop this nonsense someone’s going to get hurt, or you’ll end up in the hospital. You’ll terrorize an unsuspecting person too far with your spirit talk and have to pay for it. Can’t you see where this is taking you?”

  “Grow up. You’re the one who has to be careful. I’ve warned you before.”

  “When will you be home? We promised Grandfather Logan we’d visit him this afternoon. You haven’t been to see him since our wedding.”

  “If you think I’m going anywhere near that haunted house you’re crazy. Now you have to be careful of the spirit in his house, too.”

  Tossing his pillow at him, she yelled, “Stop it.”

  Annamarie fell back against her pillow thinking his mood changed for a few minutes and now his anxiety had returned. She heard him leave, slamming the back door behind him.

  ***

  All she could think of to help Daniel was visiting her mom for possible answers. Her mom was her calm place in a storm. If she had a spirit of any kind, she needed her mom’s input.

  When Annamarie was growing up, her mom told stories about her childhood. They were always fun-filled tales, but once in a while she’d add a story about their relationship to the Gypsies performing in Bavaria. She’d make the stories mysterious, adding to the entertainment. Annamarie never knew if the tales were fact or fiction. It was an enjoyable pastime to imagine all the mysterious aspects of having a Gypsy ancestor, and the things that might have gone on deep in the forest. Now Annamarie wondered if the serene feelings that enveloped her while near the woods were her love of them, or did ancient Gypsy blood flow in her veins.

  Annamarie’s mom had a set of what she referred to as “dream cards.” The top of the cards had either a letter or symbol, and the flip side revealed different pictures. She would lay the cards out to describe the gist of your dream, then remove some and turn the rest over in a certain order and “read” the pictures. Annamarie always thought it was cool, and her friends loved to learn the meaning of their dreams. It was time to see if those cards were real, or merely a game her mom liked to play. Clearly, this Gypsy nonsense was getting to Annamarie.

  ***

  Annamarie saw her mom attending her beloved flower garden when Annamarie pulled into the driveway. She saw her dad with his face buried in the newspaper, but he glanced up long enough to wave. Annamarie waved back when she got out of the car and walked toward her mom.

  When Paula stood up and saw her daughter, she could tell by the look on Annamarie’s face something was wrong.

  “I need to know everything you do about Gypsies, and have my dream read with your cards,” Annamarie said after relating yesterday’s incidents.

  “Calm down,” her mom said taking her gardening gloves off, “There’s not much to know. My grandmother taught me to read the cards. I think we should sit down, have a cup of tea and a nice talk.”

  Following her to the screened breezeway, Annamarie’s mind raced with questions.

  Annamarie’s father grew up in the house where he and her mom now live. When he was a boy, his older brother thought he could grow a willow tree. Everyone scoffed at the idea, but now a large weeping willow stood in the front yard.

  Annamarie loved to spend hours sitting under the dangling branches. Her dad let the leaves grow long, and she could hide in her mysterious, secret world. It was the one place Annamarie felt completely alone, and could dream of all the things girls loved and planned. At this point in her life, most of those dreams had come true. She also dreamed of living in a mysterious world, could that dream be coming true, too?

  Pouring the tea, her mom said, “I don’t know if my ancestors were Gypsies, in the true sense of the word. I also don’t know how far back they had a carnival, and what I do know is mostly what the carnival was after it settled on my grandmother’s farm. Then it was only used for the Oktoberfest celebration each year. We never spoke of it after my father died.”

  “Okay,” Annamarie said. “We’re not related to Gypsies, maybe, but why did I rattle off that ‘curse’?”

  Her mom smiled, “My grandmother believed in old wives’ tales, healing with herbs from the forest, and told a realistic tale or two. When I was young I believed every story she told and some of it stuck.” Sipping her tea she continued, “As for the cards, she taught me how to use them when I was a teen. I thought it was fun. My friends loved them. Yours did, too-- remember. That doesn’t mean we’re Gypsies. You were so angry with Daniel you lost your head for a moment and simply babbled a few words. That doesn’t mean you’re a Gypsy either.”

  Enjoying her tea and sensing some relief since everything her mom said made sense, she felt foolish for all her worry. However, in the back of her mind she had a nagging feeling there was more to this than an odd dream.

  Annamarie began to sense a strange connection to the woman she saw in her dream, and yet how could she be connected to a dream self? The idea sounded as crazy as Daniel’s spirits, but maybe Daniel was right. She was somehow responsible. That seemed more insane than the thoughts Daniel vocalized, but she couldn’t shake the feeling.

  “A penny for your thoughts,” her mom’s voice brought her back to reality.

  Annamarie smiled and said, “Nothing, just looking at the flowers.” Then she mentioned the dream.

  “I don’t believe we need to use the cards for your dream. I’m sure you dreamt about a Gypsy because of the tension between you and Daniel yesterday.”

  “You may be right. I still need to be sure.”

  “Here, read your brother’s latest letter while I get the cards. Perhaps it’ll brighten your mood.”

  Smiling when she returned, her mom asked, “Feel better?”

  “Yes, but he referred to me as ‘squirt’ again.”

  “You’ll always be ‘squirt’ to Carl.”

  “I can’t help it if he’s seven inches taller than me. Why did I have to be the short one in the family?”

  “Five two isn’t short, you’re petite. You were always tiny from the day you came into this world.”

  “So now I’m tiny. Daniel’s an inch taller than Carl and he swings me around like I’m a child. He says a bag of feathers weigh more than I do.”

  “Should we discuss your dream or your height or lack of it,” Paula’s eyes were bright and her smile mischievous.

  “You�
��re as bad as Carl and Daniel. Let’s see about the dream,” Annamarie said smiling back at her mom.

  Her mom was holding the dream cards. They were small, light blue paper cards about two by three inches. The edges were irregular. They appeared to be trimmed from a large sheet of paper.

  Annamarie asked, “Where did you get them?”

  “No idea. My grandmother surprised me one day and gave them to me.”

  It was confusing watching how her mom knew which cards to lay down to explain her dream. She was even more confused when her mom removed several of them in random order. She turned the remaining cards over and removed two more. Her mom’s face was serious as she studied the cards.

  “What do you read?”

  Looking up, she replied, “You dreamt of yourself and the ‘dream you’ wanted the ‘real you’ to join her in that dance.”

  If Annamarie wasn’t freaked out before, she was now.

  “What?” Her eyes expressing fear, “what does that mean?”

  “Don’t worry. We dream about ourselves a lot, and most of the time we don’t remember.”

  “That doesn’t help.”

  Annamarie had another cup of tea and mulled over what she learned. Her mom did answer some of her questions, but now she also had new ones.

  “Mom, you said some people have a bit of psychic ability they don’t even know about. Could that be why Daniel says he saw his grandmother holding her baby in his grandfather’s house, or do you think he might be a bit crazy the way his mom thinks?”

  “Daniel was a young boy when he thought he saw ghosts in his grandfather’s house. The fact his grandmother and her child are buried so close to the house and Mr. Logan speaks of her often almost as if she’s still alive can be extremely confusing for a child.”

  “How’d you get so smart?”

  “When you began to date Daniel and it became serious I did some research at the library. I didn’t want my daughter to marry a lunatic. It’s also not unusual his childhood fears still bother him today. You’re still afraid of the dark and thunderstorms. I’m sure you’ll both grow out of it.”

  “Thanks, Mom. That explains a lot. I have to run and do my Saturday errands.” She kissed her mom on the cheek.

  She blew a kiss to her dad and hurried to her car.

  ***

  Annamarie would’ve turned right to head for town, but she remembered she promised Daniel’s grandfather she’d stop by, and help him decide which plants to add to his greenhouse. Turning left led her to the outskirts of Timmus Woods. It was her favorite part of town, but for some reason, a weird sensation drifted over her. Was something watching her from the woods she loved so much?

  “Stop it,” she yelled aloud.

  Daniel’s fears crept into her mind, and she knew if she were going to deal with Daniel’s fear, she couldn’t have any of her own. Annamarie had lived her entire life in the town. She played in the woods as often as she could get away alone. If anything were there, she’d know it. Her concerns had her falling prey to Daniel’s fear. Not sure if he imagined the spirits, but she knew when his eyes couldn’t conceal his dread, it frightened her.

  ***

  The town of Timmus Woods had once been a huge expanse of oak trees with several acres of pine trees near the river.

  Daniel’s grandfather, Michael Logan, was a direct descendant of the Logan family that helped settle Timmus Woods in the 1800s along with Joshua Timmus. Joshua discovered the area and fell in love with the virgin territory. Unfortunately, Joshua died in a logging accident shortly after they began to clear the area. The first settlers were unanimous in their decision to name the town after him. The original Logan family wanted to ensure the majestic oak trees weren’t cut down completely. They planned the town around the trees and the founding fathers passed laws protecting them.

  To the east of town were rolling hills and an old logging road. Their small town was nestled among the giant oaks and surrounded on two sides by the cliffs and the river. The only way in or out of town was to the west and south. That kept the town from growing quickly, and it suited Annamarie perfectly.

  Daniel tried to avoid the down-town area unless they were going out to eat. He enjoyed eating at Ray’s Diner, and overcame his fear for a short while. Annamarie remembered a conversation they had the previous week.

  “I think the spirits stay in the woods, but get lost sometimes and wander into town. I’ve seen odd lights in the trees at night.”

  “There are only a few street lights downtown, and many people carry flashlights when they walk to their cars. That’s probably what you see.”

  “There’s a difference between a flashlight and a spirit light, look closely and you’ll see the difference. I see the spirit lights a lot at the cabin and grandfather’s house.”

  “You drink too much at the cabin, and you don’t visit your grandfather often,” Annamarie said.

  “It’s useless talking to you. You’ll never understand the spirits until they come after you.”

  “Stop it. You’re trying to scare me again. I don’t believe in them.”

  “You will when you wander through the trees downtown, and one of them grabs you.” He walked out of the room.

  She didn’t understand why he felt that way. For Annamarie, it seemed romantic. There was always a quiet, shady spot to sit. The town was an adventure. While the citizens of Timmus Woods may have thought the founding fathers a little crazy for the way they set up the town, they were never in a hurry to change it.

  Annamarie and Daniel held opposing viewpoints on the trees in the town. Daniel said, “I would cut all the trees down if I had my way. I think I’ll run for town council or mayor when I’m older, and the residents will see what the town will be like without spirits.”

  Annamarie tried to ignore him when he began to rant about the spirits.

  ***

  Prairie Road, the main street, meandered through the trees, and the size of a business was often determined by how much land was available between trees. Children could play while their parents shopped, and many of the trees had old-fashioned rope swings hanging from the branches. It truly was like living in a park with stores. The only exception was Daniel’s grandfather’s home.

  The house stood on several cleared acres on the edge of town. Built by Daniel’s great-grandfather when the town was first settled, its sprawling main house and north wing over-looked the pines leading down to the river. There was a small stable and a lovely greenhouse.

  Daniel’s grandmother, Margaret, died in childbirth two years after George’s birth. Michael Logan buried his wife and their daughter on his land, in the shade of several oaks, about a quarter of a mile from the rear of the house. The small white fence surrounding their burial plot is visible from the house. It always scared Daniel, playing a part in his fear of spirits.

  “I wish they had made him bury her in the cemetery. It’s spooky to have her near the house.”

  After Margaret’s death, Michael Logan raised George alone, and they became especially close. George helped his father build Logan Insurance into a prosperous firm. It’s Daniel’s legacy, but Daniel wants nothing to do with it. He told Annamarie, “I don’t know where I’ll work, but it won’t be in that office or this town of horrors. I’m leaving as soon as possible.”

  ***

  When they were dating, Daniel would tell Annamarie creepy stories about his grandfather’s house. Once she met Grandfather Logan, she liked him immediately. Daniel told her not to get too close to him because his house was haunted by Daniel’s crying grandmother floating through the hall carrying her baby.

  Annamarie was certain it was a story. However, she was also sure Daniel believed it with every ounce of his being. His possible emotional instability was more frightening than a spirit. Her concerns remained firmly entrenched, no matter how hard she tried to shake them.

  ***

  Driving down the winding path on Prairie Road, Annamarie’s mind wandered back to her dream and the odd fee
ling it was more of a memory than a dream. Could she be related to the woman in her dream? Maybe that’s why she loved being in Timmus Woods. The mystical aura of the trees always made her feel safe and at home. In Timmus Woods, one was never far from the protection of a stand of lovely oaks and the outside world seemed far away. She wasn’t able to shake the feeling she was being watched and whatever watched was in the woods.

  Could Daniel be right, she connected with an ancestor from her past, and the spirit was now in the woods perhaps communing with the spirits already there?

  “Annamarie,” she said to herself, “Get a grip.”

  Her thoughts turned to her visit with Grandfather Logan. Calm returning when she neared the house. If one person in town was sane, it was Grandfather Logan. Right now Annamarie needed a healthy dose of sanity.

  Chapter Three: Grandpa Logan

  Grandfather Logan lived on the edge of town. After leaving the shops in the small town center behind her, she didn’t see another building until she spied his house in the distance. At the intersection of Prairie Road and Tangledbranch Drive, a left turn on Tangledbranch heads west out of town.

  Continuing straight past the stop sign, Annamarie drew closer to the estate with its wrought iron fence running across the front of the property. Two large gates were open, rusted in place. She couldn’t recall ever seeing them closed. A scroll work arch mounted over the gates bore the name “Logan’s Love.” It was an odd name for a piece of land, but Daniel’s great-grandfather had named it, not for his love of a woman or anyone for that matter, but for his love of the land and trees. Morning glories in hues of pink, purple, red, and blue, long forgotten, grew wildly up and over the arch and along the fence in both directions.

  Grandfather Logan would tell people, “My friends are welcome, and my enemies would never try to visit. Why lock the gates?”

  Not only a pillar of the community and the patriarch of his family, he was a sight to behold. At seventy-seven, he still had most of his dark curly hair. Six feet tall with a deep booming voice and a little hard of hearing, but no one would suggest he might benefit from a hearing aid. His glasses slid down his nose a bit giving him an endearing appearance.