Conjuring Sight (Becky Jo Chronicles Book 1)

by Teresa Rae

Sunny is so involved in her game that she absentmindedly nods as I go out the door.

  I run to catch up to Gabe, but he easily stays ahead of me. Then, quite suddenly, he disappears. I look around in confusion until I hear voices.

  “Put a rope around their murdering necks!” yells a man.

  I stop walking when I see the mob under the hanging tree. Poor Henry and Gabe are bruised and bloody with their arms tied behind them. The frenzying crowd puts nooses around their necks.

  “I would allow you some last words, but you didn’t give my only nephew any last words before you killed him! He survived the Yanks, but he couldn’t survive his treacherous niggers!” Although he never materialized in Gold Canyon, I recognize the greasy Samuel Blair from Sunny’s photographs. He sneers at Henry and Gabe.

  Without warning, Henry is violently wrenched from the ground. We all hear his neck break. There are cheers from the mob as they throw rocks at Henry’s swinging body.

  “I CURSE YOU, SAMUEL BLAIR!” Gabe’s powerful voice stops the cheering. “I CURSE YOU TO KNOW NOTHING BUT MISERY AND THAT YOUR ILL-EARNED BLOOD MONEY WILL BRING YOU NOTHING BUT MISFORTUNE! WITH MY DEATH YOU WILL HAVE MURDERED THREE TIMES! GOD IS A PERFECT GOD, AND HE WILL CORRECT THIS INJUSTICE…”

  Before Gabe can finish, Samuel silences him when the rope lifts him off the ground. I close my eyes. I can’t stand watching the innocent man being strangled by his own weight. I am grateful Henry went quickly and wish Gabe’s death would have been as merciful.

  A sneeze causes the mob to turn their heads. I reopen my eyes in time to see a dark face peering behind some sagebrush.

  “Stop them!” Samuel screams, wanting to get rid of all evidence of his heinous crime. A witness to Gabe’s final words could ruin all his plans.

  Although what I see are merely images of 1875, I scream when the person in the sagebrush stands. There’s nothing I can do as I watch the mob chase down the witness and put a bullet in the back of her head. She falls to the ground. The mob laughs victoriously. I forcefully shut my eyes and hit my head in an attempt to forget the images I’ve seen. While my brain buzzes with despair, the world silences around me. When I reopen my tear-filled eyes, I find myself alone under the Hanging Tree. Ghostly bodies sway in a nonexistent wind. There is a third body a short distance from the hanging tree, hidden by sagebrush.

  I stare at the scene in horror. I just watched Gabe’s and Henry’s murders and, if that wasn’t horrifying enough, I also watched my dearest friend being gunned down. Clara is so much like me I never suspected that she is also a ghost. Looking back, it all makes sense: the chill whenever I’m around her, the shop clerk’s unusual reaction to her name, and her strange behavior. Knowing she is dead is almost unbearable. What’s even worse is the knowledge that she has been forgotten by history. I have thoroughly studied the Blair murders, and Clara was never mentioned. Rich men are memorialized, but small, simple girls are expendable – except to me.

  “Grant us the spirit of love, which does not want to be rewarded, honoured, or esteemed, but only to become the blessing and happiness of all who need it,” I whisper a prayer by William Law.

  I believe Sunny. I know the journey is dangerous, but I have to try to help my friends. I have neither dependants nor responsibilities. I am not important; this makes me the perfect person to undertake the risks. If I die, I won’t be missed. I fall to my knees, knowing there is no going back. I’ve decided to try to help Clara, Henry, and Gabe, even Colonel Blair – although it may very well mean death. This wish may not have a global reach like world peace, but I have decided rescuing my friends is much more important than spending an hour with Mama or becoming a millionaire. It may seem a small thing, but to these souls, it is everything. I just have to get my sister’s blessing first.

  * * *

  “Do you like the chocolate?” Marina asks.

  “I love the chocolate. My bunny’s ears have already disappeared,” I answer honestly, readjusting my phone. “Did you get some chocolate?”

  “No, but I had incredible Chinese food for dinner.”

  “Oh,” I complain. “I had tofu ham.”

  She laughs hilariously. “I’ll make it up to you. Sunny said your practice test scores have improved.”

  “Slightly, but I still have a long way to go.”

  “She also said you are playing the violin beautifully.”

  “Maria is a good teacher.” I clear my throat. “Marina, can I ask for some advice?”

  “Absolutely, I am your attorney,” she teases.

  “It’s just that I have these friends, and they really need some help…”

  “Do they need money?” she interrupts. There is a suspicious tone in her voice.

  “No, it’s nothing like that. Clara and a couple of my other friends have been a little down lately. I want to do something to make them happy.”

  “Why are they unhappy?”

  I think for a moment. She’ll have me committed if I tell her that my friends are depressed because they’re dead, but I still need to be as truthful as possible.

  “Clara hasn’t seen her family for a long time. I want to help her get back together with them. My other friends have the same problem. If you were me, would you help your friends see their families?”

  “Of course, our relationships are very important. If there’s something you can do to help your friends, you should do it. You’ve always been good at organizing parties. You could help them put something together…” There is a beep in the background. “I’m sorry, Becky Jo. I have Mr. Harrison on call-waiting. I’ll call you tomorrow after your violin lessons.”

  “Happy Easter, Marina. I love you,” I quickly say before she can hang up.

  I’m surprised when she replies, “I love you, too. Let me know if you need any help planning the party.”

  I hang up, wishing I could be just half the woman she is.

  * * *

  “Isn’t time travel impossible?” I question Sunny the following morning.

  “Yes and no,” she answers, washing the table. “There have been several documented cases of incidences which can only be described as time travel.”

  “What kind of incidences?”

  “People disappearing only to reappear and claim they have either visited the future or the past. Their descriptions are detailed and accurate. I don’t doubt at all that time travel is possible. However, it is unpredictable and can’t be caused intentionally. Time travelers inadvertently stumble into wormholes or experience unexplained time warps.”

  “If it can’t be controlled, how can I possibly travel to the past?”

  She shrugs her shoulders. “I can grant insignificant wishes like giving good luck to a football player during a game or helping a little girl dream about her future husband. I don’t know where even to begin with time travel.”

  I wrinkle my nose in thought. “So, if you were granting a wish, what would you do?”

  “Ultimately, it would depend of the scope and magnitude of the wish, but I usually have the wisher gather a young, healthy tree branch to place under their pillow. Then I would have them say the wish aloud before falling asleep, but as I said before, I don’t do time travel.”

  * * *

  “What do you think of this one?” I laugh as I hold a running outfit in front of me.

  Clara giggles with me. “I like the princesses.”

  I put the outfit back on the rack. “The last thing I need is to dress like I’m ten. I wish I didn’t have to shop in the little girls’ section. I really hate shopping, but Marina wants me to get some new clothes.”

  Clara helps me search through a second rack. “What do you think of this?” She holds up a pink sweat suit. It’s obviously made for a little girl, but instead of princesses or a preteen pop singer it has a tasteful butterfly.

  “That’s much better!” I happily inspect the outfit. “See, there’s a reason I brought you with me.”

  “Yes there is,” she holds up a second pink outfit. Being a
name-brand jogging outfit, it’s pretty cool.

  “I’m going to get them both.” I look them over, ignoring the stares of a mother and daughter a few feet away. I know it appears I’m talking to myself, but I don’t care. Clara and I are having a great time. Ever since I’ve discovered she is a ghost, I’ve pretended as though nothing has changed. The truth is, Clara is unquestionably my best friend, and I enjoy her company, but I don’t know what to say to her about having watched her die. I don’t think, “Hey, I’m sorry you’re dead,” is appropriate small talk. I put back a jacket with some gagging preteen pop idol on the front.

  “What else do you need?” Clara asks, moving to a third rack of clothing.

  “Just shoes, but I ordered them online. Stores never have my size in stock, unless I want to wear Dora the Explorer.”

  She is giggling when the air suddenly turns extremely cold. The other shoppers must be able to sense something isn’t right because they immediately move to other departments. Clara frowns.

  “I told you, only when she is walking,” Colonel Blair appears in the store. He angrily glowers at Clara.

  “Get out of here, you big jerk!” I step between him and Clara. “You have no right to dictate who I spend my time with!”

  “Yes, I do. You live in my territory, so I can dictate whatever I wish!” he grumbles.

  I have an epiphany. “You were the one who called my house while Clara was visiting! You made her leave!”

  “You need to make friends with the living.” He steps around me. Readdressing Clara, he says, “Only on walks.”

  “I will do as I wish in my own territory,” Clara counters, showing surprising strength. “The ancestral lands aren’t in your territory. You are trespassing.”

  “You need to think about the long-term ramifications. You will isolate the girl.”

  “Just get out of here,” I shoo him away like a pesky fly.

  He nods sternly in Clara’s direction before vanishing.

  “Don’t listen to him,” I tell her.

  Her shoulders hunch over as she notices there aren’t any customers near me. “I’m sorry, Becky Jo. I have to go. Colonel Blair is right.”

  She also disappears, leaving me by myself. I don’t know where that ghost gets off telling everyone what to do! First, Henry and Gabe! And now Clara! Colonel Blair is determined to ruin my life!

  * * *

  I slide pieces of bone tightly together on a string until there is enough room for one more bone. Then I tie off the string. I pick up another string, dusting off my hands while Sunny drills holes into the bones. I wonder what Marina would think if she knew I was helping her witch of a housekeeper make talismans to keep zombies away from our house. Although it’s been quiet for the past few weeks, Sunny is convinced more trouble is on its way. Living in Virginia City is a constant challenge. If we’re not dealing with ghosts, it’s zombies created by evil witches. It sounds ridiculous, even in my own mind.

  “Is there a talisman that would keep away Colonel Blair?” I ask while stringing more bones.

  Sunny’s lazy eye stares out into space, and I don’t know how she’s drilling the bones without hurting herself.

  “The spirits were here before us, and they’ll still be here long after we’re gone,” she explains. “Talismans protect against the Cursed and prevent ghosts from harming us, but they don’t remove ghosts. Is Colonel Blair still causing you problems?”

  “He is the biggest bully who ever lived,” I complain. “I haven’t seen Henry forever, and I have to go on a walk if I want to talk to Clara. I don’t know where he gets off!”

  “He must feel his reasons are justified.”

  “They’re not! He just wants to boss everyone around and make everyone as miserable as he is!”

  “There’s no point arguing with the dead. He is going to do what he wants. The only advice I can give you is to keep your distance when you can.”

  * * *

  I stand on the edge of the cliff, staring into the void. Behind me are beauty and peace; before me are darkness and the unknown. A gentle breeze blows across my face. Sunshine falls on my head and shoulders, warming me from behind. A butterfly flutters by, tickling the skin on my arm in passing. I am surrounded by beauty, yet I am fixated on the darkness before me.

  A soft voice whispers, “Jump, Becky Jo.”

  I look around and find I am alone in my paradise. I see no reason to jump. I will enjoy the beauty of this oasis, even if I have to enjoy it alone. I turn away from the cliff and walk to the meadow. I curl up on the grass, watching the clouds roll by.

  My dream suddenly disappears as I am awakened from a deep sleep, finding my bed shaking violently. The meadow and sunshine have been replaced by light bulbs flashing overhead and items hurtling across the room. The sound of heavy footsteps pacing across the floor echoes through the icy cold room.

  “Why?” booms a disembodied voice. I hold tightly onto the bed as it shakes even more violently. “Why? Why? WHY?”

  The light bulbs burst overhead. I cover my face in an attempt to protect it as I am thrust into darkness. The bed doesn’t stop quaking and neither does the relentless pacing. I want to cover my ears to block out the sound, but it’s impossible while the bed shakes. Silent tears stream down my face. I am truly afraid, but I don’t know how to stop the haunting.

  “ENOUGH!” screams a second voice. Clara materializes in the room. She takes a protective stance in front of me. “Colonel Blair, you will stop this, now!”

  The bed finally ceases shaking.

  “How dare you trespass in my territory?” The Colonel materializes in front of her. His massive form frowns down at her.

  “I had no choice!” she thunders back. “You have frightened Becky Jo!”

  “A good dose of fear will do the girl good! She needs to leave this cursed city! Get out of my territory! Or do you want me to call for Gabe and Henry?”

  Clara frowns dangerously at him before disappearing.

  I shake glass out if my hair, giving Colonel Blair my worst dirty look. “I knew you were the one who was haunting me all along. Why are you so nasty?”

  He looks into my eyes. The edges of his lips turn downward. “Why? Why has God cursed me with you?” With that, he vanishes. I am left alone in the darkness.

  5

  Spring Equinox

  Next morning, I groan and cover my head while Henry miserably belts out Dixie. I don’t know how much more of this I will be able to endure. It is excruciating to know how unhappy my friends are and not be able to do anything for them. I wearily open my eyes and sit up.

  I kick my feet out of the bed and stretch. I glance around at the broken glass on the floor. My forehead wrinkles as I catch sight of a small bottle filled with a green liquid on the bedside table. I pick it up.

  Underneath the bottle is a yellowed piece of paper which, in scribbled handwriting, reads:

  I will not be able to come to you for at least a week Do all you can to prepare until then. The potion is simple to administer. Drink it five minutes to midnight, and you should arrive in 1875 five days before James is murdered. Save him, you save all four of us. You have one week.

  * * *

  I scurry into my room and lock the door behind me. I gently place a moist towel on the desk. Kicking off my shoes, I look at the clock. It is a few minutes to midnight. I don’t know why, but ever since I found Gabe’s potion, I can’t shake the feeling that I can’t wait the week for him. I feel I must go today.

  It has been a long day. During my walk with Clara, I wanted to tell her about my decision to try to save her, Gabe, and Henry, but I didn’t because I feared she would try to stop me if she knew. Furthermore, I have wanted to speak with Gabe the entire day, but it seems Colonel Blair still has both Gabe and Henry on serious lockdown. I haven’t even been able to talk to Sunny because she’s at some witch’s apprentice retreat. I’m about to do something completely crazy and have no one to talk to about it.

  Since I haven’t been
able to talk to Gabe, I’ve taken matters into my own hands. Gabe’s potion should take me to the past, but I can’t leave any room for error. I open the moist towel, carefully removing a small fir twig. Spring is still absent and I don’t know how to tell if a tree is alive, so I located an old fir tree in Sunny’s yard. Making a wish may be just thing the thing I need to help me to accomplish the immense task I have ahead.

  Satisfied with the twig, I make a last-minute inspection of my room, mentally checking off everything. Dressed in comfortable, time-traveling sweats? Check. Talisman? Check. Twig? I carefully lift it, making sure it remains completely intact before rewrapping it with the towel. Check, I think before moving on. Proof of success? I look at the copies of newspaper stories about Colonel Blair’s death next to the twig. The moment I return, I want to be able to verify that my mission has been successful. Check.

  I look at the clock. Time has snuck up on me. There are only ten minutes until midnight. Looking over Colonel Blair’s obituary, I take several deep breaths. I am Becky Jo Douglass. I can do this. I am the sister of Marina Douglas and daughter of Alice Douglass. If anyone can convince the irritating Colonel Blair that Samuel’s dangerous, it’s me.

  Checking the clock, I remove the twig from the moist towel. I square my shoulders and carefully carry it across the room to my bed. Counting down the seconds, I put it underneath my bed at exactly five minutes to midnight and put Gabe’s potion to my lips. I gag down the disgusting concoction. I swallow every last drop, wishing I had something to wash away the bad taste.

  Speaking aloud, I half wish, half plead, “Let me go back to 1875 to save Colonel Blair…” I pause slightly, trying to express what is in my heart and mind. I know saving his life isn’t enough. Most importantly, I need to save his two best friends and Clara. I add, “…so he will obtain eternal happiness, and so my friends will have long lives.”

  I close my eyes for a silent prayer. My mind repeats the words of Charles de Foucauld; My Father, I abandon myself into your hands. Do with me as you will. Whatever you may do with me, I thank you. I am prepared for anything, I accept everything, provided your will is fulfilled in me and in all creatures. I ask for nothing more, my God. I place my soul in your hands.