Finding the Way Back

by Jill Bisker

  I told him about the appearance of my grandmother and carefully watched his eyes to see if he thought I was nuts. He was amazed but he appeared to believe me.

  “I think we should do another investigation tonight. I would love to catch more evidence,” Emmett said, running a hand down his face.

  “I hate to take up everyone’s time. Do you think it would be worth it? Maybe the smudging worked and we won’t have many more negative disturbances.”

  “The fact that your grandmother is still here and appeared to you tells me it’s not over yet. And you know what—if that handyman doesn’t come today, I’m not comfortable with you and Connie staying in the house alone and unable to lock the door. I can crash on your couch if that’s okay with you? I’ll just stay after the investigation.”

  I paused a moment to see if he was joking. My first reaction was that I didn’t need a man to watch over me. But after I thought about it I was glad to see he was serious and I agreed to it. I was more afraid of real people breaking in than ghosts anyway.

  Emmett left and I returned to the dining room. My mother and aunt were boxing the items they were taking home.

  “We’ll be leaving when we’re done here,” my mother said.

  “My handyman can’t make it until tomorrow morning. Are you girls going to come home to stay for the night?” Aunt Shelly asked.

  “No, we’ll stay here. Emmett said he’d sleep on the couch so we’ll be fine,” I answered. My mother and aunt smirked at me. “Really, he’s just staying on the couch. We sure can’t leave the house unlocked and unattended. Besides, the guys are going to come over and do more investigating.”

  “No, you’re right. If you need us you can always call,” my mom finished as she and Aunt Shelly left.

  Connie had gone back to work in the study, cataloging and photographing items for eBay, so I went up to work in the master bedroom.

  I hadn’t yet finished going through my grandmother’s closet. If a song meant so much to her that she kept a broken record of it, there might be other keepsakes of her lost love. She could have a diary or other notes hidden in one of the boxes on the shelves or elsewhere. I decided to investigate a little further. The small trunk where I had found the record was still sitting on the floor in the closet. I sat down and opened it up again. There were several other items inside, each carefully wrapped in muslin. The first article was a delicate, black beaded bag. The way it was wrapped indicated that the utmost care was taken to preserve it. I carefully unwrapped the rest of the items and surveyed the motley collection of things my grandmother had saved—a small souvenir knife, two inches long and in a leather sheath stamped Door County, a blue velvet box with a set of fake pearls inside, a handkerchief with lace around the edges, the torn half of a one-dollar bill, an old tube of lipstick, and an ashtray from a Holiday Inn hotel. She had obviously saved these articles as memory keepsakes, and I wondered if they were from her relationship with the other man. It occurred to me that I didn’t even know his name.

  “Quentin,” I heard my grandmother say from behind me.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I nearly jumped out of my skin as I stood up and turned around. This time she was wearing a simple blue cotton dress with a full skirt, and her hair was flowing loosely, framing her face. She had a short white sweater on and her shoes perfectly matched the dress. Around her neck lay the pearl necklace I’d just seen. Why couldn’t I ever be that pulled together?

  “What?” I asked breathlessly, a million thoughts and questions racing through my head.

  “His name was Quentin Collins. You were wondering, I answered.” She smiled gaily at me.

  “How do you know what I was thinking? Can ghosts read minds?”

  “No, but I can hear bits of conversations throughout the day. Not everything, but some. I know you were talking about him. As I saw you looking at my memory box, I could tell what you were thinking. I couldn’t have him, but I still had our memories.”

  “How could you forgive him for running out on you like that?” I asked.

  “He didn’t know I was pregnant,” she said sadly. “I was too scared to tell him. When we started dating it was just supposed to be for fun. In the past, I had broken my own share of hearts. I didn’t mean to, of course. When you’re young you’re just looking to share some good times before real life hits you. We grew up much faster in those days. A young woman’s options were rather limited. Everyone expected me just to get married and have children right away. But then the fun would be over. The men would still go out to their clubs, bowling and golfing and whatnot, but the wives were much more chained to the house. I just wasn’t ready for that yet, but then I made a decision that put me in exactly that situation.”

  I was speechless and just stared at her, hanging on her every word. When she paused I looked down at her meager pile of memories, all that she had left from a different time, a different life.

  “I suppose you think I’m callous,” she said sadly.

  “No, I don’t. You’re right. Women do have a lot more freedom nowadays. We aren’t expected to get married young and put away our dreams,” I said. “Why do you come to me? Is there a reason?”

  “Do you remember choosing items from the hutch just a little while ago? Without realizing it, you chose all my favorite things. The oval dish I got from my mother when I was young, the coffee pot that was the first thing I bought for my home, and the salt and pepper shakers I bought on my first trip to see the ocean. You have a gift, Laney. You are able to feel a connection with me in a way that no one else does. It’s like a higher sense of perception. And it’s not just related to me. I’ll bet if you think about it there have probably been many times when you’ve known that something was going to happen and it actually did. Am I right? You need to cultivate your gift, Laney, not shut it away.” She smiled at me again.

  My mind raced as I tried to think of times when this was true, but I didn’t want to lose any time with her and it looked as if she might be fading. “Why are you still here? Why are you doing all these things? What do you want us to know?” I had so many questions, but I was talking to the air. She had vanished as quickly as she’d come. I sat down against the closet wall and thought about what she’d told me. Did I truly have a greater sense that connected me to her? She said to cultivate my gift. What gift? How? I had no idea. The next time I would have to have my questions at my fingertips. I wondered if maybe it didn’t work that way—maybe she could only interact with me when she had something specific she wanted to say. It sounded like she listened at least to some of our conversations so maybe there was a way we could coax her into coming back.

  I went downstairs to tell Connie of my visitor but she wasn’t around. I assumed she went to run a few errands so it would have to wait. The more times I saw my grandmother, the less scary it was. Instead it was becoming more intriguing as it seemed like pieces of a puzzle were appearing. But what was the big picture?

  I saw the clothes basket filled with dirty laundry and figured I could quickly throw a load in. Facing my fears, I grabbed the basket and headed toward the basement stairs.

  I snatched a large, black flashlight off the counter then bravely descended into the bowels of our abode. I could use it for a weapon as well as a light source. I found clothes in both machines so I first had to fold the load that was in the dryer then move the load from the washer to the dryer all before starting the load I was carrying.

  As I reached for the laundry detergent I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck start to prickle. I quickly twisted around to look, but no one was there. I could have sworn someone had come into the room. My heart started to race and sweat beaded up on my forehead. The washing machine door slammed shut behind me making me jump backwards so that I tripped over the basket. I felt myself lose my balance and knew I wasn’t going to keep from falling. I fell to the floor sideways, my hip hitting first and my head smacking hard on the concrete. Stars swirled before my eyes as the pain from my hip and skull
registered. When I tried to sit up the room seemed to darken. Lying back down, I closed my eyes for a moment trying to get my bearings. My head started to clear but the feeling of being watched was strong again. I opened my eyes again and noticed the same, strange scent I had smelled before when the lights went out. It was so bad I tried to breathe through my mouth to avoid it. There had to be something backed up in the plumbing, I thought. I sat up, intending to stand so I could go upstairs and almost threw up because of the stench. Suddenly I was so dizzy I thought I was going to pass out. By now I was really freaked out and knew I had to get out of there. I tried to yell for help but it made my head hurt worse, so I started crawling towards the stairway.

  I made it to the stairway and looked behind me, seeing a dark shape coming toward me from the other side of the room. I realized it wasn’t a solid form, so I thought it must be my grandmother again. Thank goodness I wouldn’t be alone. But instead of the lovely blonde image of Grandmother, it was a more masculine shape becoming more distinct. While my grandmother was young and beautiful, this image was awful and terrifying. I could see bones protruding from decomposed flesh like some horrifying zombie come to life. It looked like it was trying to talk, its ravaged lips muttering incoherently, the sound like stone on stone.

  “Eesssssggggttt kill you!” it rasped.

  I heard the sound of loud screeching in my head and all around me, and I realized it was me screaming right before everything went black.

  * * * *

  I opened my eyes slowly, but they didn’t want to focus. At first I couldn’t figure out where I was, it was so dark and alien. I started to feel the cold concrete seeping through my shirt and I shivered. Connie was leaning over me with a concerned look in her eyes. The memory of the figure came back and I started whimpering, scrambling to stand. “We ... it. ... help ...”

  “SSShhh. Lie still, Laney. Are you okay? What happened?” Connie eased me back down and tried to keep me from jumping up. I struggled to a sitting position but was still dizzy. I grabbed Connie’s arm in a panic. “Get me up. We gotta get out of here.”

  “Laney, stop, wait until I get help. You may have hit your head, you shouldn’t move.” She sat on her heels and rubbed my hand on her arm, trying to calm me down.

  “I’m not being left alone down here, it’ll get me. Help me up.” I could hear the desperation in my voice but I couldn’t seem to control it. Tears ran down my face and my breath was caught in my chest.

  Seeing that I was beyond being reasoned with, Connie put an arm around me and helped pull me to my feet. She steadied me as we made our way up the stairs, and I was almost done crying by the time we reached the top.

  She led me to the sofa where I collapsed in a heap. “I’ll get some ice,” she told me as she ran into the kitchen.

  I jumped when I heard a knock at the front door then the sound of someone entering. Emmett, Glen and Dean called out a greeting and I tried to wipe the traces of my tears from my face. Connie returned with the ice and I put it on the knot on my head.

  The guys all stopped to gape at me on the sofa. “What happened? Are you okay?” They all spoke at once.

  “I’m fine,” I said, still trying to calm down. I realized I must look a mess. I could picture my swollen, red eyes and my disheveled appearance.

  They looked at me doubtfully, standing frozen. Men! They never knew what to do when tears were involved.

  “I think she fell or was pushed in the basement although it seemed a whole lot worse. She’s never had this reaction before.” Connie applied the ice to my head. I had to move it as she’d gotten the wrong spot. “I heard her screaming hysterically from the basement,” she said. “I rushed downstairs and found her out cold on the floor.”

  Emmett came to sit next to me on the couch. “Hey you,” he said to me, brushing the hair out of my face. “Tell us what happened. Let me take a look at your bump.”

  He seemed so concerned for me that tears started to stream down my face. His fingers felt around the back of my head until he found the spot. “Well, you are going to be sporting quite the lump but it doesn’t look like you broke the skin.” He put the ice back on the area and placed his arm around me, pulling me close to his body.

  “I feel like such a baby.” I hiccupped, wanting to hide. I wasn’t good at being vulnerable in front of people, especially men I was attracted to. I nestled into the nook of Emmett’s arm and decided I never wanted to leave there.

  Connie brought me a tissue. “Do you think you can tell us now?” A small smile played at her lips but I chose to ignore it.

  Glen and Dean took a seat to listen as well.

  “I went down to do some laundry and at first everything was fine. I folded one load, put another in the dryer and loaded the washer.” I could feel myself holding back, I didn’t want to tell them. No one would believe me. The story was just too fantastic. “I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up and I thought someone was behind me. But when I turned to look no one was there. The washing machine door crashed shut by itself which startled me so I tripped and fell, hitting my head.”

  Emmett, Dean and Glen all started to look relieved as they must have thought it was just a clumsy accident.

  I took a deep breath and continued, “I was really dizzy so decided to crawl to the stairs but a shape started forming near the washing machine. But it was different from when I saw my grandmother.” I looked down at my hands shredding the tissue. The tears sprang to my eyes again and I could hardly get the words out. “As it became clearer, it looked like a decomposed body, and I could smell it! It was like a terrible nightmare!” Everyone went totally still and quiet. My voice rose higher as I continued, recalling the horror I’d felt. “Then it ... it ... spoke.” I shuddered, unable to go on.

  I felt Emmett pull me even closer, as if to shield me from the horror. His other hand caressed the back of my neck. That was all it took to start a deluge of tears. He held me until my sobbing stopped.

  Then he asked quietly, “What did it say?”

  I snuffled between each word, “It said, ‘Kill you.’”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” I said, wiping my eyes.

  “I’ve never heard of anything like that,” Dean said.

  “That’s a good way to say you don’t think it happened.” I could hear the hysteria in my voice and I hated it. I needed to be calm and collected or they wouldn’t ever accept what I’d told them as real.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Dean said. “Of course we believe you. It’s just so amazing.”

  I tried to regain my composure, my thoughts racing. It was probably dangerous to even stay here. I stood up intending to go upstairs for a break but my head started to spin. Emmett caught me under the arms before I could fall and helped me back down to the couch. “Laney, I believe you. After all the things I’ve seen and felt here, I have no doubt that you saw exactly what you said you saw.”

  Unable to find the words to express my gratitude, I took his hand in mine and smiled at him. It felt like an electrical shock went through me and I blushed.

  “There they go,” Connie teased.

  I ignored Connie’s comment and took a deep breath. “You know, I forgot, there’s more. I also saw my grandmother this afternoon up in the closet.”

  “You what?!” Connie asked. “What did she say? Why was she there?”

  “I was looking through that trunk I’d found with the record in it. She said the things in it were memory keepsakes from Quentin.” I answered.

  “Quentin? She told you the other guy’s name? Quentin what?”

  “Quentin Collins,” I mumbled. “When she appears I get so flustered I just ask her things in the moment. She leads the conversation then she just disappears. She said she comes to me because I’m psycho-sensitive or something. She said it was a gift.”

  “What happened in the basement doesn’t sound like a gift. It doesn’t seem like our grandmother either. I think it’s the othe
r ghost we thought was here.” Connie stated.

  “It does seem like we have both positive and negative energy here,” Dean said.

  “You know what occurs to me?” Glen asked.

  Glen was usually so quiet so every time he opened his mouth the entire room got quiet and focused on him.

  “What?” everyone asked, almost as one person then we all started laughing.

  “For some reason Laney is the catalyst. Her grandmother gave us the clue. She said Laney has a gift. I think she means clairvoyant.”

  Everyone looked at me, seemingly not sure what to think.

  I started to laugh. At first I thought he was joking but no one else was laughing.

  “Clairvoyant? Do you mean, like, psychic? I’m definitely not psychic. I can’t tell the future and I don’t talk to dead people.” But even as I said the words something was tugging at my memory. There were times when I knew that something was going to happen, even though there was no reason I should.

  “Uh, Laney,” Dean started, with a questioning look.

  “Well, sure, I’ve talked to my grandmother, but no one else.” I shook my head trying to convey that what they were saying was impossible but that just made me dizzy again.

  “Maybe you just haven’t tried to really plug in to your gift,” Glen said.

  “Really, Glen? I’ll bet you’re right, because I don’t know how to ‘plug in’ to psychic abilities. That’s not me!” Suddenly I felt so tired I leaned back on the sofa and closed my eyes. How did this happen?

  “Maybe you should see a doctor,” Emmett suggested.

  “I’m fine,” I snapped. The last thing I needed was someone telling me what to do.

  “Really, Laney, you could have a concussion,” Connie said. “Come on, we’ll run down to urgent care and get you checked out.”