Ashlyn's Radio

by Heather Doherty

  Lame. Lame. Lame!

  Maudette nodded thoughtfully. “Why, you’re right, Ashlyn. You couldn’t possibly make this trip.”

  “Exactly!”

  “School has to come first — this being your senior year, and all.”

  She sighed her relief. “Thanks for understanding.”

  “It’s a good thing I asked Caden to go instead.”

  “Oh, yeah, it’s a very good—” Whoa, what was that? “Caden’s going?”

  Maudette smiled. “Yes, isn’t that nice? I just got off the phone with his father. He wasn’t too keen on the idea at first. But Caden really is an outstanding photographer, and passionate about his work; his father realizes that. Plus he’s amazing with the dogs. This show is a great opportunity for him. And Caden knows my critters. So if you’ll be good enough to look after Lolly-Pup—”

  “You’re not taking Lolly-Pup?”

  “No. She’ll sit this one out, I think. It’ll give her kennelmates a chance. And I know you’ll take good care of her.”

  Ashlyn murmured something that must have made sense.

  “Oh, and why don’t you have the Riley girl over while I’m gone?”

  Ashlyn agreed that was a great idea, then went back to the house, leaving Maudette in the swarm of happy dogs vying for her attention. But she kicked every damn stone in her path on the way back to the house.

  As she walked inside, she heard the phone ringing before she even got the door closed behind her. She didn’t need psychic ability to know who was calling, nor did she need to see ‘Williams’ on the call display. The phone clicked into Maudette’s old-fashioned answering machine before she reached the living room.

  “Hey, Ashlyn. It’s Caden.” His voice filled the room.

  Ashlyn sat on the end of the sofa. She could rush to pick up the phone, but she didn’t want it to seem like … well … like she was rushing to pick up the phone. And besides, it was the way he said her name — smoothly. Affectionately. She liked the sound of it.

  “Dad just told me your grandmother called. And I suppose you already know I’m going to Saco this weekend to help Maudette with the show. Help her with the dogs. Take a few pictures. I can’t believe Dad agreed to it.”

  A brief pause.

  “I’m really pumped about this, Ash. It’s a great opportunity to get some shots of world-class dogs, and maybe some exposure for my photography. And really, your grandmother does need the help. But to be perfectly honest, I was looking forward to spending the weekend with you.”

  Another brief pause.

  “I’ll miss you. A lot. Probably more than I should confess to at this point. Dammit, I don’t know how these relationship things work! Probably I’m supposed to be acting aloof and hard to get, like I’m all that.” He laughed at himself. “But really, Ashlyn, I wish you were going to Saco too. So listen, call me, okay? And delete this before your grandmother hears it.” Another pause, one heavy with realization. “Oh, crap. Maudette … I … uh … hope this isn’t you accessing this message. If it is … er … sorry, ma’am. I’m going to hang up now before I get myself into any more trouble.”

  She’d sat very still long after he hung up. She’d call him back, but not just yet. Let him squirm for a few minutes. Right now she just wanted to hug his words to her and smile.

  Having Rachel in the house was … interesting.

  “So,” she said, plopping herself on a chrome chair at the kitchen table, “when Maudette was talking to Professor Williams, she must have made it clear you weren’t going with them, I guess?”

  Ashlyn shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Um … that was a rhetorical question. Of course she told him. Not in a million years would Papa Williams let Caden go away for the weekend with you! Ha!” Rachel whirled on her dramatically. “Again I say: Ha!”

  Rachel’s enthusiastic “ha” wasn’t really a dig at Ashlyn, and she didn’t take it that way. It was just Rachel’s strange sense of humor. “Well, even if I had gone along, it wouldn’t be like we’d be alone. Maudette would be there too.” Ashlyn looked down from her perch atop a step stool. “It’s not like we would have been sharing a hotel room together.” She felt the flush in her face. Though she could imagine sharing a hotel room with Caden. Vividly.

  She reached to the back of the tallest shelf, where Maudette kept the fancy glasses. She and Rachel were going all out on this Saturday night, so nothing but the crystal would do for the banana-chocolate-berry smoothies — the perfect after-pizza treat. That and the popcorn Rachel offered to make.

  It had been a great day. Rachel had arrived earlier than expected, around 8 am. Ashlyn had gotten up to see Maudette off, and help her pack the dogs up. She’d fed Lolly-pup and patted the lonely, left-behind Airedale. And then she’d promptly headed back to bed. Rachel’s knock on the door pulled her out of dreamland.

  She and Rachel had walked around the Junction — picked up a few things at the store, gotten their take-out pizza. Ashlyn couldn’t help but notice the stares (and downright glares) they seemed to be getting.

  “It’s lots of things.” Unasked, Rachel volunteered an explanation. “They stare because I’m a witch. Others, because you’re a crazy Caverhill. And a few because you’re dating a black guy.”

  Even now, thinking about it, it still pissed Ashlyn off. All of it. Glasses in hand, she hopped down from the stool.

  “Er, Rachel….”

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to take the popcorn out of the bag. It’ll be flying all over the microwave now. I appreciate you bringing it and all but….”

  Rachel looked at her strangely, then with a too-wide grin. “You’ve never made popcorn the old-fashioned way, have you?”

  “You mean the kind without the butter added?” She set the glasses on the counter and began pouring the smoothies from the blender. “Sure I have. You just melt butter yourself, drizzle it on, add some salt. Piece of cake.” Ashlyn’s eyes grew even larger as Rachel opened the Ziploc bag full of kernels and rained them down into a deep-bottomed pot on the stove. “Are you nuts?”

  Rachel laughed. “Like that was ever in question! Watch and learn, Ash.”

  Ashlyn did watch, at first in worried amazement, but then with a dawning duh as the popcorn starting pinging around underneath the pot’s stainless steel lid. “Okay,” she said, trying to save face. “I’ll handle the butter.”

  She opened the old refrigerator and retrieved a block of butter from the door. As Rachel shook the popcorn pan on the stove, Ashlyn grabbed a smaller pan and plopped a good load of butter in.

  “Ashlyn?” Rachel said, quietly.

  “What?”

  “We usually use the microwave for that.”

  Ashlyn rolled her eyes. “Bitch.”

  With their bowls of butter-soaked popcorn and smoothie-filled crystal highball glasses in hand, Ashlyn and Rachel moved into the living room where they’d be camping out for the night. Rachel had brought her own sleeping bag and pillow along when she’d arrived this early morning. And though Maudette had told Ashlyn that Rachel was more than welcome to use her room, both girls decided bunking down on the living room floor in front of the TV would be way more fun.

  Besides, Ashlyn didn’t want Rachel staying in Maudette’s downstairs bedroom while she slept upstairs. If Rachel got a notion to go for a moonlit excursion again, she wanted to be close enough to hear her stirring. She didn’t want her friend anywhere near the tracks, or that conductor should he show up this night. Ashlyn shivered. Rachel had been so close to boarding — so close to losing her life. Her soul. She’d felt the pull herself, but how strong it must have been for Rachel.

  But there was another reason why Ashlyn was hell-bent on Rachel bunking down in the living room with her. The radio.

  It had been quite a few days since Ashlyn’s world had launched into bizarro-land when the radio had played in the night, and she and Maudette had high-tailed it out into the kennel office. Ashlyn had recalled Ma
udette’s words — the family history which she was now a part of — over and over again in her mind. She knew she hadn’t imagined what she’d heard. Not from the radio and not from her grandmother. She knew she had to own it.

  Maudette had warned her early this morning after the dogs were secured in the trailer and she was on her way to get Caden: “If the radio plays you know what to do. Wake Rachel and get the hell out of the house. Run to the kennels and wait in the office until it finally stops.”

  “Wake her? Are you kidding? There aren’t earplugs heavy-duty enough to dampen out that radio.”

  “It’s our curse, Ashlyn. Our line of women. Rachel won’t hear it.”

  The old woman had said no more.

  But as the two girls settled in the living room for movie time, the thing that had been gnawing away at Ashlyn all day took another bite. She needed to tell Rachel about the radio. Whether her friend would be able to hear it or not, Ashlyn needed to tell. And not in a just-in-case way, but in a friends way. In an I-really-want-to-freakin’-tell someone way. Especially someone who’d believe. And having seen the ghost train, if there was anyone who’d believe, it was Rachel.

  Rachel grabbed the DVD/TV remote from the table. “So what do you want to start off with? A tormented Vincent Price slowly going mad in The Pit and the Pendulum, or a tormented Vincent Price slowly going mad in House of Usher?”

  Ashlyn set her glass on the table. “Before the movie, do you want to see something really freaky?”

  Rachel turned toward her. “You’re not going to rip your face off, are you, Ash? ’Cuz that’s been done to death.”

  Ashlyn snorted a laugh. “Better. Come with me.”

  Rachel followed Ashlyn as she jumped off the couch and headed through the kitchen to the basement door. Ashlyn opened the door slowly, mentally telling herself it was more for dramatic effect than due to any real fear she felt. And then telling herself that again. The radio scared the bejesus out of her. That song. The one to the tune of Coming ’Round the Mountain, but with words all of its own.

  Those haunting, mysterious lyrics.

  She’d been chewing on those for a while. But not with any real conviction that there was any other conclusion to be drawn than the one she’d arrived at. Without doubt, the radio’s prophetic song was about Rachel. Her friend was the one meant to get on board the train/whose life wouldn’t be the same. Hadn’t the conductor been there to meet her the other night? And hadn’t Rachel almost stepped onto the train as he beckoned, ‘All aboard’?

  When they reached the bottom of the steps, Ashlyn reached up and turned the light on. Carefully this time, releasing the cord gently so the light didn’t send those shadows flying around. The old Henderson Radio stood there under the low-light glow, looking every bit as still and harmless as it always did when silent.

  Ashlyn wet her lips. Now, how to broach this with Rachel? How to tell her she was standing before a haunted radio? A device capable of—

  “Oh wow,” Rachel said. “Is that Crazy Catherine Brennan’s haunted radio? The one with the prophecies! I’ve heard so much about it! Is it true that if you scuff it up, the scuff marks won’t stay?” She stepped forward and laid a flat hand on the glass radio dial, pulled it away and looked with glee at the popcorn-greasy fingerprints she’d left behind. “Let’s see what happens.”

  “You knew about this?” Ashlyn asked.

  “Duh. Everyone in Prescott Junction knows about this! Catherine Brennan’s radio is the stuff of legend. I remember my grandmother talking about it. About how Catherine would go around the Junction warning of impending death and illness. Singing her sad songs as she walked along the tracks — songs of doom and destruction. Wouldn’t that be cool? To hear something like that? Let’s turn it on. Maybe we’ll get some news—”

  With a quick hand to her arm, Ashlyn stopped Rachel from reaching for the dial a second time. Her friend didn’t share her fear, nor did she share her knowledge.

  “Better not, Rachel.”

  “Why?”

  Ashlyn drew a deep breath. “We never turn it on. It just turns itself on when it has something to say. Sometimes it’s a bit of news. Or a strange song. But it’s on its own timing.”

  Rachel was practically vibrating with excitement. “Maybe we’ll get lucky. Maybe we’ll hear it later.”

  “Yeah … that’d be great,” she said, lying through her teeth. “Lucky or what.”

  Back upstairs, they polished off the popcorn in no time. And Ashlyn made up the second batch of smoothies as Rachel popped The Pit and the Pendulum into the DVD player. Happily, they both loved those old movies. They were good and scary, but without the gore. And Rachel seemed really relaxed this evening, more relaxed than Ashlyn had ever seen her. Less on guard than she was at school or even when they’d walked around the Junction this afternoon. Ashlyn had shown her the yearbook she’d “borrowed” from the library earlier in the day, and she’d genuinely been interested in the old photos and blurbs about Ashlyn’s parents.

  They popped in House of Usher next, and soon enough fell into a comfortable silence as they watched it. For the most part. Just when it was getting really good, and Ashlyn was getting really scared, Rachel started snickering…. And Ashlyn would maybe have joined in with a chuckle, had she not seen the tears in Rachel’s eyes.

  “What’s so funny?” Ashlyn asked. “Being buried alive by a madman, while nobody knows about it?”

  “There are worse things.”

  “Such as?”

  Rachel wet her lips. She hesitated so long, Ashlyn didn’t know if she’d asked the question aloud. Finally, Rachel took a deep breath. “Being buried alive, while someone does know about it,” she said. “And yet … and yet they just don’t give a rat’s ass. Being buried alive by a madman, and nobody giving a rat’s ass about it. Yeah, that would be worse.”

  She was talking about herself. About her own home situation — she had to be. Ashlyn knew damn well she was. “Rachel, someone does give a rat’s ass. I do, you know I do. Tell me what’s going on?”

  Rachel shook her head. “You should know by now, Ashlyn Caverhill from Toronto, just how it works in Prescott Junction. Everyone—”

  Ashlyn cut her off mid-excuse. “Yeah, yeah, I do know. Everyone stays in their beds at night no matter what they hear, and nobody talks about the scary stuff. But Rachel, I’ve seen the bruises. I know you cut yourself. And I know there’s a reason. Tell me about the scary stuff. Tell me who’s hurting you. What’s burying you alive?”

  A single tear slid down Rachel’s cheek, and angrily she slashed it away. “I can’t. I just … I just can’t.”

  It was on the tip of Ashlyn’s tongue — what to say next. You can trust me. And Rachel could. But she just didn’t know it yet. Ashlyn could only pray in time, she would.

  She broached another subject.

  “Rachel,” she said. “You were going to get on that train the other night. And you can make whatever jokes you want, Caden and I both saw you. Saw the look on your face. If you’d grabbed that conductor’s hand, you’d be—”

  “Free.”

  “Dead!” Fear made Ashlyn snap. “You’d be dead and your soul would be on that train with the other lost souls. With my father’s soul. I don’t know what the hell Patrick Murphy found so horrible about my coming into the world, but whatever it was, he killed himself over it. And that’s permanent Rachel. That’s forever! And I don’t want your soul trapped there too.”

  It was only when Rachel reached to brush away another tear from her cheek, that Ashlyn realized she had shed one herself.

  “Rachel, I want you to promise me something.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t get on the train.”

  Rachel bit down on her bottom lip. “But I—”

  “No buts. No excuses. No anything but a promise. A real one, between friends. Don’t get on the train. You’re being buried alive? I hear you. And I know you’ll tell me when you can. And when you do, I’ll do what I can to
help you. But you’ve got to promise me.” Ashlyn grabbed her hand tightly as if grounding her somehow. “Promise me you won’t get on the train.”

  Finally, Rachel nodded. Reluctantly nodded. “Okay, Ashlyn. I promise.”

  Ashlyn let go of her hand, and both girls turned themselves toward the TV in time for a particularly blood-curdling scream. “I know how she feels,” Rachel mumbled.

  Ashlyn nodded. “I know you do.”

  It was a start.

  The girls didn’t finish the second movie. Ashlyn found herself dozing off before the House of Usher had even started to shake. She looked over at Rachel. Realizing that she looked as tired as Ashlyn felt, she suggested they call it a night.

  Rachel was all too agreeable.

  Ten minutes later, they were tucked into their respective sleeping bags, lights were out, and the peaceful glow of moonlight shone in upon the girls. In less than a minute after her head hit the pillow, Rachel was gently snoring. After such an early start to the day, Ashlyn wasn’t surprised that Rachel was out like a light.

  But of course, now she couldn’t sleep! She didn’t even feel like closing her eyes. Lost in thought, she stared up at the ceiling.

  So much was different here from Toronto. She huffed a small laugh as her mind drifted to the popcorn. But it wasn’t just the little things that were different. And there was so much to be scared of here — the train, the radio. So much to understand that Ashlyn just … couldn’t.

  Rachel chuckled softly in her sleep. Ashlyn looked over. It was good to see her sleeping so easy. Good to have a friend like her. Yes, she missed her Toronto friends, but Ashlyn had to admit, she missed them less and less every day. There was a little pang of guilt attached to that realization. But Rachel was fun. Funny as hell. Tough as nails, but she had a bit of a soft spot when you got through the protective exterior.

  And then there was Caden.

  Ashlyn snuggled a little deeper down into the sleeping bag as she wondered if he was thinking about her too right now. This very minute. Maybe he was dreaming about her. She bet. She hoped. Oh, God, she hoped! In the night, in the still quiet of his motel room, did he—