The Starfish Talisman

by Lark Griffing

  “You look disappointed. Did you want me to say I didn’t believe in that stuff?”

  “Yes, I did, actually. I would like to meet just one person here who isn’t bat-shit crazy.” The words were out of her mouth before she had a chance to think about what she was going to say. Her face turned an even deeper red. “Oh, my goodness. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  “Yes, you did,” said Chase, but remarkably, he didn’t look angry, just amused. “You aren’t from around here, you don’t feel like you belong, and everyone here talks crazy about ghosts and spirits. I can’t say I blame you. But don’t think of me as the bat-shit crazy type. Think of me as the maybe there are things we can’t explain type, but I don’t think that the world is a Stephen King novel.”

  “So, you don’t believe in the wolves under the dining room tables kind of spirits?” asked Reagan. Chase let out a laugh, deep and hearty.

  “Cora Rose is at it again,” he chuckled. “Is she filling your head with the terrors of attack wolves in Willow’s dining room? She has told that story to anyone who will listen.”

  “But people do listen, don’t they?”

  “Hell, yes!” exclaimed Chase.

  “Why?”

  “Because she is the best damn cook in all of Littleport, and if she likes you and you’ll listen to her stories, she’ll bring you a fresh blueberry pie. There is not a soul in this town who doesn’t welcome Cora Rose onto their front porch for a spell of good ghost story talk if it means they will be rewarded with a fresh, hot pie. You should know, I expect you have sampled a lot of her cooking since you have been staying with Willow.”

  “That I have, and you’re right, she is an amazing cook, but I will suffer for it before too long.” Reagan looked down at her flat tummy and patted it. “My hips are going to be twice their size by the time summer is over.” Chase’s gaze lingered on Reagan’s hips, sliding up slowly to her face.

  “I don’t think you have to worry in that department,” said Chase. Again, Reagan blushed furiously.

  “Um, well, thanks.” With that, Reagan moved toward the cash register. Chase slipped behind the counter and totaled her purchases.

  “So, I’m off in half an hour, do you want to hang out or something?” asked Chase.

  “I’m headed over to the library after this. Stop by and see if I’m still there. If I am, then maybe… or maybe not,” said Reagan coyly. She picked up her purchases and left the drugstore.

  Stowing her soap in her car, she retrieved her books and walked across the square to the library. Dropping her books in the return slot, Reagan turned and headed to the shelves which held the detective and mystery novels. She was devouring books quickly, so she wanted to select several that would hold her for the week.

  It took her about fifteen minutes to pick out four novels, then she meandered her way through the shelves. She ended up in the non-fiction section. She was never good with the Dewey Decimal System, so she just read the titles, looking at the various topics, seeing if anything sparked her interest. Reagan looked at some cooking books, wondering if she might want to try some recipes, but then she thought about how Cora Rose might take it and she moved quickly on. She found the craft section and scanned the shelves for soap making. She was curious about what was involved in making that silky, amazing smelling bar that was in her car. Flipping through a couple of books, she decided that it was way too long and complicated a process if you made everything from scratch.

  Wandering some more, she recognized that she was just killing time until Chase got off work. She was craving some social time, and Chase might just fit the bill. As she mused about the possibilities that Chase might offer, she noticed a group of books on the shelf in front of her.

  One book was pulled slightly out from the others as if someone had looked at it, but shelved it hastily, not shoving it in all the way. The title of the book was Hauntings, Unexplained Happenings, and Undeniable Truths. Curious, Reagan slid the book off the shelf. She leaned against the stacks and thumbed her way through the pages. Fuzzy photographs and pen and ink sketches littered the pages, along with old houses, abandoned barns, and broken windows with ghostly auras.

  Before she knew it, she was caught up in an old tale of a young girl who was put off a wagon in the middle of the night, abandoned by her family, too poor to be able to feed another mouth. The child wandered the road, following the wagon as long as she could. Exhausted, cold, and hungry, she turned to follow a railroad track assuming it would lead her to a town and to people who would help her.

  Inexperienced, she was unaware of the dangers of walking the tracks. She stumbled in her exhaustion, and her tiny foot slipped and wedged under a rail. Unable to free herself, an early morning train struck and killed her, the engineer never seeing the child. Even if he’d had a warning, he wouldn’t have been able to slow down.

  Her body was found by a farmer the next day, flung a hundred feet from the track. Her little foot was found still wedged under the rail. An investigation was conducted, and someone remembered a family passing through with numerous small children, the parents inquiring if anyone needed a young girl to act as a servant. Unable to find the family, no one was charged.

  The child was laid to rest in an unmarked grave. No one stepped up to pay the expenses of a marker stone, and the incident was forgotten until an old farmer was driving his load of hay into town to be delivered to the livery stable. He was flagged down by a young girl in a dirty and torn green gingham dress. She had a pronounced limp. As he helped her into his wagon to give her a ride to town, he couldn’t help but notice that her right leg was missing a foot. Feeling frightened, but chastising himself for having the willies, he climbed up into the wagon and urged his horses forward in a fast trot. He turned to speak to the girl, but she had vanished, no sign of her anywhere. Fearing she had fallen out of the wagon, he stopped his team and climbed back down. Checking the road carefully and peering under the wagon, he searched in vain for the little girl. According to the book, stories like this had been reported for years, and people to this day continue to report seeing a little girl in a tattered green dress standing by the road near the tracks.

  “I thought you said you didn’t believe in ghost stuff and implied that anyone who did was, how did you put it, ‘bat-shit crazy'.” Chase’s voice sounded behind her.

  “You like sneaking up on people, don’t you?”

  “Yep, it’s kind of fun to watch them jump. So, did curiosity just happen to get the better of you, or did you really intend to come and do some research but didn’t want to admit it?”

  “No, I came to get some more novels to read, and I just started scanning the shelves. I found this book and was curious. I really hadn’t even thought of doing research. It seems silly to research things that aren’t real.”

  “Maybe you could become enlightened. Open your mind to what other people believe. You may have to weed through the obviously ignorant and fake stuff, but I bet you could find some things that are hard to explain. You might also understand why people actually believe some of the stuff you find so hard to. Does that seem fair to you? It’s got to help you understand Cora Rose better and maybe earn you some pie.” Reagan shrugged and looked up into his earnest brown eyes.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with educating yourself so you can make sound decisions. You never know, you may become a believer.”

  “Fat chance,” Reagan quipped, but she tucked the book in her elbow with the detective novels she was eager to read.

  “So, despite the fact that you think I am a crackpot, can I convince you to go have a malt with me?”

  “I’ll reserve judgment on the crackpot but take you up on the malt.” Reagan checked out her books and she and Chase walked them to Reagan’s car. As she opened the door, the scent of Blueberry Delight spilled out. “I may have to buy another bar just to use as an air freshener. The stuff smells amazing. I looked in a book at how to make soap since I had nev
er heard of anyone who did that. The process seems long and complicated.”

  “It is, but like anything, once you get used to it, it’s not a big deal. You should stop by and watch my mom someday. I know she would love it. She likes it when people are interested in her craft.”

  “I would love to.”

  They walked over to the diner and both ordered chocolate malts. Sitting at a table by the window, they settled in and got to know each other. Chase was a junior in high school, a pole vaulter, and was working at the drug store to save money for college. He had an easy way of talking about himself, not self-conscious in any way.

  Reagan filled him in on her mom’s job reporting on the troops overseas, and her subsequent visit to Maine. Reagan was shocked when she discovered she had already finished her malt. The time had passed easily between them. Reagan reached for her check, but Chase stopped her.

  “I invited you for malts, remember?”

  “Thank you, but I can pay for my own. This wasn’t like a date or anything.” Reagan explained.

  “In this town, if a guy invites a girl, he pays. We’re old-fashioned like that.” Reagan opened her mouth to speak, but Chase interrupted her. “Don’t get your feminist panties in a bunch. It wasn’t a sexist remark, just a matter of etiquette. If you ask me out, I will gladly let you pay, deal?”

  “Deal, but I don’t have feminist panties. I’m not sure if I should be insulted because I’m a female, or if I should just laugh because you’re ridiculous.”

  “You should laugh. Life is too serious to get your undies twisted about anything so trivial. I’ve got this. I also will pay for the movie tickets and popcorn tomorrow night.” Reagan looked at him with her mouth hanging open.

  “You’re incredibly sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Yep. You noticed that you didn’t say no, right?” Reagan laughed and blushed. They exchanged contact information, and as Reagan left the diner, she decided that she had just had the most productive day yet since moving in with Willow.

  Chapter 16

  Are you coming?” asked Olivia, as she drug the cooler across the sand.

  “Right behind you,” said Reagan as she struggled with the armload of beach blankets and a tote that was threatening to slide off of her left shoulder.

  “It’s not much further, just over this last dune,” said Olivia. Reagan followed her dutifully wondering why this section of beach, which was the furthest from the parking lot, was better than the closer sections. As she crested the top of the dune, her question was answered. This part of the beach was practically deserted, expect for the small group of teenagers setting up beach umbrellas and coolers. If she looked to her left, she could see that the beach closer to the lot was full of moms and their children. The squeals of delight reached Reagan’s ears as small children ran to escape the licking waves. Although the happy sounds made her smile, she was glad that they were in a more deserted and private area.

  “Hi guys,” said Olivia. “This is Reagan. Reagan, this is everybody. You know Darcy over there.” Darcy smiled, but there wasn’t a lot of warmth in it. That didn’t bother Reagan. If Darcy wanted to be a bitch, then so be it. “This is Savannah and Maria, and those two goofballs are Todd and Dale. Hey Darcy, where is Tom?”

  “He had to finish helping his dad roof Mr. Rainer’s shed.” Her pretty lips were turned down in a pout. It was obvious she wasn’t happy to be without her boyfriend. “He said he would try to come out later, but if he doesn’t, it’s his loss.” She tossed her head, trying to act indifferent, but she wasn’t fooling anyone.

  Olivia and Reagan set up their blanket and cooler and slapped on a generous portion of sunscreen. Darcy looked over curiously.

  “So how is it going over at Willow’s house? Anything creepy or weird?” said Darcy. Olivia shot Darcy a warning look.

  “I’ve settled in fairly well. I was having trouble sleeping in a new place, but now I’m comfortable and sleeping like a baby.”

  “Well,” said Darcy, “I still can’t imagine living there. I wouldn’t even set foot on the place and neither would anyone else here.” She looked around for affirmation. Savannah and Maria nodded their heads slightly, but to give them credit, they did look slightly embarrassed. Todd and Dale just looked on curiously.

  “Well, I spent the afternoon there with Reagan and nothing happened except I got to see inside a really cool old house. It’s full of beautiful antiques, and there is an unlimited Pepsi supply in the fridge,” said Olivia, nonchalantly. Darcy’s mouth dropped open, and Savannah stifled a giggle. The boys grinned at the fact that Darcy was speechless. They jumped up from their blankets and set up the volleyball net. Within minutes, the whole group was batting a ball around on the beach, and Reagan was content to be in the company of teenagers, even if one of them was Darcy.

  Later, after munching on a sandwich, Reagan stood up and pulled on her cover up. She gathered her things and stuffed them in her tote.

  “Where are you going?” asked Olivia, as she lazily rolled from her back to her tummy.

  “I’ve got to go home and take a shower. I’m going to the movies tonight with Chase.”

  “Wait, what? You have a date with Chase? Chase Renault?”

  Reagan nodded, absently searching for her left flip flop. “Yeah, why?”

  “When did this happen? When did you meet him? How did you get him to take you out?” Olivia hammered her with questions.

  “I met him at the drugstore. We had a conversation. I went to the library. We got a malt. He asked me to the movies. End of story. What is the big deal?”

  “The big deal is Chase Renault doesn’t go out. Every female in Littleport has wanted to go out with him, but he doesn’t bite. Not even Darcy has managed to catch him,” said Savannah.

  “I shamelessly flirted with him two years ago,” sighed Maria. “He was nice and polite, but that was it. We all wondered if he was gay.”

  “He probably is,” said Darcy coyly.

  “Well, we’re just going to a movie, so I don’t think it matters one way or another if he is gay, and if it turns out he isn’t, you guys will never know, because I don’t kiss and tell,” laughed Reagan. “I’ll see you later. Olivia, thanks for inviting me. I will call you tomorrow.” With that, Reagan walked over the dune smiling to herself. I really don’t think the boy is gay, she thought to herself, and I have a hunch I might find out the answer to that question tonight.

  * * *

  Reagan was sitting on the front porch, swinging gently in the suspended porch swing, totally immersed in her current read when Wiley scrambled to his feet, his tail wagging. Reagan looked around but didn’t see what had Wiley’s attention. Then he hopped down the porch steps, his butt wiggling in anticipation. Reagan got up from the swing and looked down the driveway. She didn’t see a thing, but Wiley was excited about something. A second later, a car emerged from the trees that lined the lower section of the drive. The car stopped at the front of the barn and Chase got out.

  “Hey Wiley, how ya doin’ fella? Hang on, get your nose out of my pocket. You know I have a treat for you, don’t cha, buddy.”

  “Obviously, Wiley knows you. I didn’t realize you knew him.”

  “Sure, I know Wiley. My mom has me deliver stuff and puppy biscuits here all the time.”

  “Puppy biscuits?”

  “Sure, my mom makes homemade puppy biscuits, organic with good for dog herbs and stuff. Wiley likes them. Willow said she thought they tasted pretty good.”

  “They do taste good. Hey Chase, what brings you out here today? Is your mom okay? Does she need anything?” asked Willow, as she came out of the barn.

  “No, Mom is fine. She says hello. I came to take Reagan out to a movie if that’s okay?”

  “I suppose that would be okay. I’m guessing you are trustworthy.”

  “Excuse me. I’m standing right here. I think I can decide when I go out and with whom, who, whom… or whatever.”

  “Calm down, tiger,” said Chase. �
�I keep having to explain village life to the girl,” Chase said, teasing.

  “Ooh, you two are annoying. Maybe the two of you should go out.”

  “Ya wanna come, Willow?” asked Chase. Willow’s eyes twinkled. She was enjoying watching the normally confident Reagan squirm.

  “Hmmm, I haven’t been to a movie in a long time. Might be kind of fun.”

  “Of course, you are welcome to come, Aunt Willow. I just thought you had soooo much work to do, with that giant order, and all,” said Reagan, sweetly.

  “All work and no play makes Willow a dull girl, but you’re right. I do have a lot of work. Please be careful and don’t stay out too late. Chase, you be certain to walk Reagan to the door when you drop her off tonight. Do you understand me?” Willow gazed steadily at Chase, and he nodded slightly. Reagan looked at the two of them aware that some silent communication had just passed between them and she wasn’t included.

  “Don’t worry, Willow, I am a big girl and not afraid of the bogey man. I’ve told you that.”

  “Yes, but I told you that I have been raised a gentleman, and I will walk you to the door and make sure you’re locked in safely. Humor your Aunt Willow. After all, the older generation is set in their ways.” Willow swatted at Chase.

  “Come on Wiley. Let the young folk go play. You come on in and keep me company.”

  Chase tossed another biscuit to Wiley and opened the passenger door for Reagan.

  “Are you ready to go?”

  “Let me put my book away and grab my purse. Do you mind waiting?”

  Reagan closed the door and waited to turn off the porch light, making sure Chase could see his way back to his car. She hugged herself and smiled. She had a wonderful evening. Chase was easy and relaxed and fun to be around. He wasn’t like a lot of guys who try to impress everyone around them. He was the poster child for laid back. It didn’t even feel like they were on their first date. After the first half hour, it felt like they were old friends.