Haunting Savannah: 8 Dark and Seductive Tales

by Lia Davis

  “Can I please see any books related to Savannah’s men who fought in the Civil War?” Kori asked.

  The librarian stepped away and returned with a small stack of books. There was a sheet of paper on top of the pile. She gently placed the books on the counter, as if they were fragile. Kori respected people who cherished what they did for a living.

  “Do you have a library card or driver’s license?” the librarian asked. The woman wore a nametag that identified her as Nancy Simpson. “These items cannot be checked out. The paper contains books from our lending collection.”

  People who argued against socialism didn’t realize libraries were the perfect example of how the United States had social programs that worked. Residents of any city could get a library card and check out books free of charge.

  “Thank you,” Kori answered and turned over her Illinois driver’s license.

  She picked up the books and was about to step away when Nancy stopped her with a question. “You wouldn’t happen to have participated in a ghost tour recently?”

  A slight blush colored Kori’s mocha cheeks. “Last night,” she admitted.

  Nancy reached below the counter and pulled out a soft covered book. “This was written by a doctoral student working for one of the ghost tour companies. She has documented a number of the stories and the book is for sale at the tour company’s office. There are several vintage photographs contained in the thesis. The office is only three blocks from our library.”

  The woman looked at her as if she could read her soul. Nancy wore a number of different religious symbols around her neck, as well as some Kori didn’t recognize. Her grandmother often talked about women with special insights she had grown up with. There was certainly something unworldly about the librarian.

  Kori place her stack of books on the counter. “I’m not going to need these, am I?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Nancy answered. “Did you see him?”

  She wasn’t going to belittle the librarian by asking who she was referring to. Kori merely nodded and picked up the book. The woman seemed to know too much and Kori was too befuddled to continue their conversation. It was one of the strangest interactions she had ever experienced.

  Rather than starting with the table of contents, Kori immediately went to the index and noted Jeb Crawford’s name was present. She turned to page twenty-four and saw a photo of a small group of Confederate soldiers. The small print under the photo noted it was the only known photograph or likeness of Jeb outside whatever the family possessed.

  Kara pulled out her phone and adjusted its camera to the largest magnification before snapping an image of the photo. She brought up the picture and stared at the unsmiling face of the man she saw last night and in her dreams. Jeb Crawford.

  Chapter 3

  How do you locate a specific woman in a city of close to 150,000 people? Since she had been on a ghost tour, she must be a tourist. Residents of Savannah typically didn’t pay good money for such activities. They profited from them.

  “What are you frowning about?” Constance asked.

  His sister’s descendants who inherited ‘the sight’ from their mothers were the only beings who could see or talk to him. Due to the energy it required, he could only push his image to others once a week. If he attempted more, he’d disappear into the realm of specters. Formless, hopeless ghosts floating with no ability to connect with others. When he found himself there, he fought to escape that bleak world.

  “Jenny was right,” Jeb informed her. “I saw my soul mate last night. In mere hours, I will have solid form and I have no clue how to find her. Once the sun rises, it will be another year before I can make contact again. By that point, she may be lost to me.”

  “Did she see you?” Constance asked. “If she did, the odds are good she’ll take the tour again in hopes of catching another glimpse of you. Other women have done so in the past. Some even so bold as to knock on our front door. Somehow it is known you never reveal yourself to anyone outside a tour group.”

  He doubted he’d be lucky enough for her to approach the house on her own. The ghost tour she was on last night would be over by ten p.m. If he didn’t spot her by then, he’d prowl the bars hosting a variety of reveries. Hopefully, she would be celebrating Halloween rather than retiring early.

  He avoided his ‘crypt’. New medical equipment replacing obsolete machines over the years surrounded his body in case he woke from his magically induced sleep. Each Halloween, his corporal body generated from the one in stasis and his manifestation would re-emerge at daybreak. He wasn’t quite sure what to call his ghost-like appearance.

  “If I understand Jenny’s note,” Constance said, “you will awaken at the moment just prior to your death. I am prepared to revive you, if necessary. The spell doesn’t allow me to determine what is killing you: yellow fever, malaria, or possibly an infection. High dosages of antibiotics should help kill the disease if it is bacterial. I’m just not sure what will trigger your resurrection. She was vague concerning what type of interaction with your soul mate is required.”

  “I’m unclear on the specifics as well,” Jeb admitted. “Something will occur that will allow my soul to return to my body and I will awaken, breaking the enchantment. At least, that is what I think will happen.”

  Jeb wished he could be of more help. But he was as much at a loss after reading Jenny’s note multiple times as Constance was. He never believed Jenny was the witch she claimed to be until she cast her spell.

  His afterlife didn’t begin until the last of his immediate family had died. His youngest sister, Bette, had lived to be ninety. Jenny’s granddaughters were by his side the first time his spirit rose from his body. He hovered between life and death.

  He still remembered the anger and confusion that consumed him once he realized what he had become. Jeb had been denied whatever afterlife his parents and other loved ones enjoyed. Until today, Jeb felt he was cursed to spend eternity alone.

  He found some solace in being a pseudo father figure to generations of Crawford females born with ‘the sight’. Each of their husbands died young. Jenny’s spouse had died in the same battle Jeb sustained his injury. He had to tell his sister of her husband’s death.

  Jenny had been inconsolable at the loss. She focused all her energy toward saving Jeb when he became ill. Members of his company had contracted yellow fever. Anyone treating them was exposed to the black blood and were soon victims of the disease. Neither he nor Abigail displayed that particular symptom.

  Although he didn’t cough up blood like the brave fallen before him, Jeb was convinced he suffered from the same disease. Conditions of overcrowding, doctors not washing their hands between treating patients, and medical equipment not cleaned caused diseases and infections to spread. It was little wonder when he fell ill shortly after returning home, regardless of caring for Abigail. When Jenny realized she was losing him, his sister dove into the black magic she always avoided.

  He had to stop dwelling on the past. There was a chance he could break the enchantment this evening. Jenny was right. He recognized his soul mate as soon has he saw her.

  “So, what do you have for me to wear tonight?” Jeb asked.

  When he was in his spirit form, he would manifest any outfit he desired. Generally, it was a simple white shirt and black slacks. That was what the tourists expected, after all. Occasionally, he would wear his Confederate uniform or an outfit he saw in one of the girl’s fashion magazines. As they grew older, the twins started paying more attention to the boys and men in the photos.

  Constance had a set of fifteen-year-old twins he enjoyed spending time with. They both possessed the gift. He helped them with their homework when they were younger and they took great pleasure in helping their mother select his annual outfits. Jeb learned about the changing world as he worked with each generation’s children. The girls were presently dressing in their Halloween costumes for the party they would be attending tonight.

  �
��Straight from the window of one of those exclusive men’s shops,” Constance said as she produced a package. “The girls swore you’d look wonderful in it and demanded I purchase the outfit.”

  The sun wouldn’t set for another five hours. When he materialized in solid form the clothing would fit. If his true body woke, the ensemble would hang lose from his sick and decrepit self.

  He still remembered how terrified he was to leave the house the first time he materialized in human form. The world had changed so much since he last walked the streets of Savannah. It was as if he had been transported to an alien planet. Everything around him changed; he had not.

  After several years, he existed for the one night a year he was free to leave the confines of his home. He walked along the river, explored the shops, and watched tourists. When they started the ghost tours, he enjoyed strolling with the groups and listening to the stories.

  Tonight was different. She was out there somewhere. He was petrified that whatever was required to break the enchantment wouldn’t occur and he’d be trapped between life and death for eternity.

  After leaving the ghost tour’s office where she picked up her own copy of the thesis, Kori stopped for a midmorning cup of coffee. The doctoral student worked for a rival tour company and they did not have room in tonight’s tour. Kori hoped last night’s enterprise would have a ticket available. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed their number, crossing her fingers for good luck.

  Kori managed to snag the last spot available for tonight’s tour. Since it was Halloween, the tour had been sold out for weeks. But a last minute cancellation made it possible for her to attend. The ticket agent had informed her he had just gotten off the phone with a Connie Crawford who purchased a single ticket as well. He was excited an ancestor of Jeb Crawford’s would be present tonight.

  She took another sip of her coffee and stared at the image of her fantasy lover depicted in the book. What information would the descendant share about the man in her dreams? Kori had debated contacting the former doctoral student for more information, but held off with the latest news.

  Suddenly, the clothing she wore and what was in the hotel seemed inadequate for tonight. She gathered her belongings and headed for the City Market area on the quest for the perfect outfit. Why she needed to impress the female Crawford relation was beyond her. Maybe she’d be able to wrangle an invitation inside the house where Jeb lived and died.

  Kori was sensitive to spirits, but never became obsessed with one until now. She remembered seeing Somewhere in Time where Christopher Reeves became haunted by a portrait of Jane Seymour. Now, she was similarly addicted. There was no better term to describe the uncontrollable need she possessed.

  A man’s outfit in the display window stopped her cold. She thought it would look perfect on Jeb and her mind dressed him in the soft cotton charcoal blue shirt and jeans. From the photo, he appeared to be of average height and had a medium frame. Her fingers rubbed together, unconsciously imagining them running underneath the shirt, against his bare chest.

  Her nighttime fantasies were impacting her rational thought. She couldn’t blame the image as random since she was preparing to dress for a ghost. What slight grasp she had on reality was gone.

  Another display window farther down the street caught her eye. Various photos of celebrities wearing designer dresses were pictured next to reasonably priced knock-offs. A dress Alicia Keys wore would be perfect. It was casual enough to wear on a ghost tour and anything her friends wanted to do afterwards.

  The dress ended up costing more than she had anticipated. Plus, she needed to purchase shoes to go with it. Her father passed away several years ago and left her a small inheritance. She hadn’t spent a dime of it and rationalized she was temporarily insane and this was outside her normal spending habits. The withdrawal she’d make would barely make a dent in the account. Kori promised herself she wouldn’t touch the money again until she was ready to make a down payment on a house.

  With two bags in hand, Kori headed back to the hotel. She would meet her friends for dinner and listen to their stories about their trip to Hilton Head. After dining, she’d have an hour to dress and prepare to attend her second ghost tour in two nights.

  Chapter 4

  He spotted her immediately among the crowd waiting for the ghost tour to begin. Rather than approaching her straightaway, he held back, savoring the look of her. She was elegant in a long sleeved dress with different shades of brown swirling as if the material was alive. The dress had a vibrancy that accentuated the allure of the woman wearing it.

  The tour guide seemed momentarily surprised when he spotted Jeb. He wondered if the boy had caught a glimpse of him in the past. This was the first time he met anyone associated with a ghost tour in over a decade.

  “Welcome to our tour, Mr. Crawford,” the guide said in greeting. Shock had been replaced with a look of apprehension. “It’s an honor to have you join us this evening.”

  “Thank you,” Jeb replied. It felt strange saying words, rather than projecting them. He only spoke once a year, and after all this time, it still felt odd. “I noticed the crowds around my cousin’s house last night. When Constance told me it was believed one of our ancestors haunted the house, I had to check out the tour for myself. Atlanta is my home. I haven’t been to Savannah since I was a boy.”

  The tour guide stepped away from Jeb to collect his thoughts. It was clear his presence had rattled the boy. Jeb inched closer to his woman. He was close enough to pick up the scent of lavender. Jeb took a deep breath, drawing in more of her fragrance.

  “If everyone can gather around me, we’ll begin,” the tour guide said in a loud voice. “My name is David and I’d like to thank you for choosing Savannah Boneified Tours. Tonight, we are going to walk through the streets of the most haunted city in the United States.”

  His soul mate hadn’t turned around as of yet. David walked out of the square and people followed, breaking into smaller groups. She was clearly alone. The air hummed with a variety of excited conversations about what they were about to experience. He found his opening to approach her.

  “I understand we got the last two tickets,” he said as he came up behind her. Constance had mentioned she had managed to snag one of the two tickets available due to a last minute cancellation. He doubted his soul mate had purchased tickets ahead of time for another tour.

  She shifted her head and was about to speak, but froze in place. The woman before him looked as if she’d seen a ghost, which in reality, he supposed he was.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. He grabbed her elbow as she wobbled on her feet. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Jeb, by the way. Turns out I’m named after and strongly resemble a ghost who is quite a celebrity in these parts.”

  It took her a moment to gather her composure. “I’m Kori,” she said, extending her hand in greeting.

  Jeb still held her elbow and now took her hand. All he had to do was lean forward and touch his lips to hers. But it was too soon, so he stifled the instinctual impulse.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Kori,” Jeb said. “We should catch up with the rest of the group. David doesn’t look too happy we are not keeping up.”

  Kori laughed. It was a light, infectious chuckle. Jeb smiled in response and together they quickened their pace to catch up with the tour.

  They stopped at various locations and listened to David tell his tragic stories of Savannah’s hauntings. If any ghosts were present, Jeb certainly didn’t see or sense them. But who was he to discount any of the tales David spun.

  When they reached Calhoun Square, Kori tensed next to him. She kept glancing toward the square with apprehension. He knew who was buried beneath the grass and understood her unease.

  “What’s wrong?” Jeb inquired.

  “I can’t walk over their bodies again,” Kori whispered.

  He touched her hand, heat emanating from her naked flesh. A woman never impacted him as Kori did. Certainly not in life nor
in the form he took each Halloween. There was nothing more he wanted than to be buried deeply in her core.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said and headed toward the tour guide.

  Not wanting to be away from Kori any longer than necessary, Jeb quickly explained to David they would meet the tour on the other side of Calhoun Square. It was not lost on him that his home would be the next stop.

  “We can walk around the square and rejoin the tour in front of my ancestor’s home,” Jeb related to Kori. He was rewarded with her relieved expression, followed by a dazzling smile. “If you wish, we can enter the house and leave the tour. A number of Jeb’s belongings are still contained there if you’d like to see them.”

  It was strange referring to himself in the third person. Kori’s face lit up at his suggestion. She was absolutely stunning. He wasn’t sure which Jeb interested her more. Fortunately, he was both of them. People in his day didn’t go into therapy, but after this evening, he may require counseling.

  They casually circumnavigated Calhoun Square as David gathered the group and entered the mass unmarked graveyard. The tour group heard the horrendous tale of sweltering heat, lack of water, and a slave’s tragic fate waiting to be sold and their lives thereafter.

  He was glad Kori didn’t have to hear that story again tonight. But he had to know about her heritage. Was she a descendant of slaves as he suspected?

  “Our forefathers did abhorrent things to the Africans who were brought across the Atlantic in chains,” Jeb said. He hoped that was a good enough lead in for Kori to tell him her family’s history.

  “My mother’s people were slaves on a plantation not far from here,” Kori said. “My father was white. He was a fireman killed in the line of duty. Mom’s dad was also white, so I only know about Grandma Jane’s black ancestry.”

  “I can understand your reluctance to walk through the square,” he told her.

  “It’s more than that,” Kori admitted. “I can sometimes feel the pain the dead felt prior to their deaths.”