Last Ghost at Gettysburg
Page 28
“Too many to count,” said T.J., wiping his brow with his tee shirt.
“You’ve gotten a lot better, Cuz,” she said with a smile. “Remember how you were sucking wind that first day?”
“Don’t remind me. It was embarrassing.”
“Maybe so, but I think I won’t be the only one making All-County in the near future.”
“Uh, Cuz, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” said T.J. uncertainly.
“What is it?”
“Well, you’ve asked me a lot about my life and my family and such, but you’ve never mentioned the fact you’re adopted. Do you ever wonder—”
“T.J.,” she cut in, “I was put up for adoption when I was like one day old. I don’t know what the circumstances were, and I don’t care. My parents weren’t able to have kids so they adopted me, and I couldn’t have asked for a better life than I’ve got. Mom is like my best friend. She’s really soft-spoken, but she’s a strong person inside, and a great listener. And as you can see, I’m pretty much the center of Dad’s universe. They’ve brought me up with a pretty good set of values, I think. So, I consider myself one hundred percent Darcy.” She paused and shot him a wink. “Well, ninety-five percent anyway.”
Suddenly T.J. stopped short. “Omigod,” he said. “There’s something we gotta do.”
“Before we even eat breakfast?”
“Before we even shower. Something we should’ve done last night. Come on!” He grabbed her hand and they ran inside, scooping up LouAnne’s cell phone from the kitchen counter on the way.
* * * *
“Dude, no way!” said Mike Weinstein from Michigan, where Gonzo Ghost Chasers was filming at an abandoned insane asylum. “You actually saw the Confederate cavalryman?”
“And talked to him!” said LouAnne proudly.
“So I wasn’t delusional after all.”
“Not in the least,” said T.J.
“Wow. Far out. Well, that just means I’ve got to keep on chasing ghosts for a living till I actually get one on tape. Hey, you think this guy’ll ever come back to Gettysburg? The cavalry dude, I mean?”
“Nah,” said T.J. “We’re pretty sure he’s moved on.” He smiled and LouAnne gave him a wink.
“Well, cool,” said Weinstein. “Listen you guys, if you ever want to do a guest spot with my team, you know, like a Junior Gonzo thing, just let me know. We’d love to have you aboard.”
“Thanks,” said LouAnne, “but I think we’ll leave the ghost chasing to the experts.”
* * * *
Aunt Terri and Bortnicker outdid themselves on this day, with Belgian waffles smothered in whipped cream and fresh strawberries.
“Bortnicker, when are we ever gonna eat like this again?” said T.J., pouring himself a huge glass of milk.
“Don’t know, Big Mon,” replied Bortnicker, forking waffles onto his plate. “We must’ve gained ten pounds apiece.” Everyone cracked up, especially Mike, who for once had decided not to be the first person at work.
Tom Jackson, Sr. arrived as Aunt Terri was cleaning the breakfast table. After a bear hug from Mike and a kiss from Terri, he did a double take when presented with their daughter.
“LouAnne?” he asked. “Is that you?”
“Of course, Uncle Tom, who’d you think I was?” she answered, giving him a hug.
Over her shoulder Tom looked at the boys, who both gave “cat-that-ate-the-canary” smiles.
“Hope these two characters here haven’t been too much trouble, Terri,” he said as she handed him a cup of steaming coffee.
“Oh, stop it,” she said. “It was a pleasure. I’ll just miss my assistant chef,” she added, mussing Bortnicker’s permanently mussed hair.
“Tom,” said Mike Darcy, “I think having the boys with us was the highlight of the summer.” He threw a muscular arm around his nephew. “You’ve got quite a kid here. Same thing for Bortnicker. I hope they come back to visit.”
“You can count on it!” said Bortnicker. “And speaking of visits, Mr. Jackson,” he added slyly, “any chance of us hitting the Strasburg Train Museum on the way back to Connecticut?”
“I think we can arrange that,” said Tom as T.J. rolled his eyes.
* * * *
Finally the boys were packed and their bags were loaded into Mr. Jackson’s SUV. They’d left their Civil War uniforms behind, except for their caps, as a donation to the 72nd Pennsylvania Infantry. As the adults chit-chatted about Paris and possible future visits, the three teens stood apart, all feeling awkward and empty.
As was her nature, LouAnne broke the silence.
“Bortnicker,” she said, poking his chest and looking him in the eye, “you’d better keep in touch with me. I want to know about all the girls who are chasing you in Connecticut.” She pulled him close and whispered, “Thanks for saving me. I owe you one.” They parted, Bortnicker a dark red from embarrassment, and maybe something else.
Then LouAnne turned to T.J., her eyes wet with emotion. “Well, Cuz,” she said, her voice wavering, “this is it for now. Tell that Katie Vickers if she doesn’t treat you right, I’m coming after her.” And with that she kissed two of her fingers and pressed them to his lips.
T.J., overcome, swallowed hard. “See you at Christmas?” he managed.
“You never know,” she said with one last maddening toss of her hair. Then, without missing a beat she put her arms through theirs and led them to the SUV, where they hugged Mike and Terri goodbye and then climbed in.
They slowly drove through the still-crowded town on the way to the Interstate, T.J. and Bortnicker pointing out places of interest to the elder Jackson. “Man, you two could be tour guides here,” said Tom. “I had no idea you’d like it this much.” They came to a red light and then, suddenly, Carlton Elway, who’d been crossing the street with the ever-present Tiffany, marched over to the car. T.J. hit the window button and it slid down.
“Answer just one question for me,” he said. “Did it happen?”
“Oh, without a doubt,” said T.J. Then the light changed and both boys snapped Gettysburg’s most famous ghost hunter a military salute as they pulled away.
“So,” said Tom, eyeing the boys suspiciously in his rearview mirror, “I believe you have a story to tell me?”
“Allow me to begin...” said Bortnicker.
Author's Note
Gettysburg has been one of my favorite places since my first visit as a Cub Scout in the 1960s. I have returned many times and consider it a powerfully mystic venue. It’s no wonder a story involving Gettysburg’s history has always been percolating in the back of my mind. During my most recent visit in 2010, my college-aged daughter, Caroline, and I walked the route of Pickett’s Charge and even paid a nighttime visit to the National Cemetery and other parts of the battlefield, just to appreciate the atmosphere that T.J. and other characters experienced. If you ever get the chance, I strongly suggest you visit the Gettysburg Battlefield Park, as well as those others whose place in history is no less formidable: Antietam, Fredericksburg, Manassas, Shiloh and Vicksburg to name a few. It will only enhance your appreciation and enjoyment of this novel and of American History. And while you’re there, don’t be afraid to ask questions of our national park rangers, whom I have always found to be extremely knowledgeable and friendly. The dedication of the character, Mike Darcy, to his profession is surely not an exaggeration.
As for the events portrayed in the story, Major Crosby Hilliard is purely fictional, but the unit in which he served, Hampton’s Brigade, was much distinguished in various campaigns and battles throughout the war. Its movements in the novel before and during the battle of Gettysburg are completely accurate.
About the Author
Paul Ferrante is originally from the Bronx and grew up in the town of Pelham, New York. He received his undergraduate and Masters degrees in English from Iona College, where he was also a halfback on the Gaels’ undefeated 1977 football team. Paul has been an award-winning secondary school English
teacher and coach for over 30 years, as well as a columnist for Sports Collector’s Digest since 1993 on the subject of baseball ballpark history. Many of his works can be found in the archives of the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York. His writings have led to numerous radio and television appearances related to baseball history. Paul lives in Connecticut with his wife, Maria, and daughter, Caroline, a film screenwriter/director. Last Ghost at Gettysburg: a T.J. Jackson Mystery is his first novel.
Website:
www.paulferranteauthor.com
Also Available
From Melange Books
Happily Never After
by Missy Fleming
There's no such thing as happy endings.
Savannah, Georgia is rumored to be the most haunted place in America. Quinn Roberts knows it is. She's felt the presence of spirits her entire life, investigating and photographing them with her best friend. Only none of those encounters ever turned violent, until now. The menacing darkness feeding off her stepmother has promised she won't live to see her eighteenth birthday.
After a chance meeting Quinn reluctantly allows actor Jason Preston into her life, which has complications of its own. She's not used to letting people get close. Falling for him while fighting for her life, and her family's legacy, only complicates things more. Jason shows her exactly what she stands to lose, especially when she's being attacked by the mysterious entity. Each attack is more violent and terrifying than the last.
With Jason's help, she dives into the Roberts' family history, searching for a link between a woman who went missing a hundred and fifty years ago and what's happening now. What they find is a brutal murder and that the ghost doesn't just want to hurt Quinn, it wants revenge.
It wants her life.
Also Available
From Melange Books
An Age of Mist
by Mathias G. B. Colwell
"An Age of Mist" is set in an alternate world where the sun never shines and the land is covered in mist and fog nearly all of the time. What begins as a classic tale of another world develops into something much deeper. As we follow the protagonist, the young Santori, it becomes apparent that he faces a far more menacing element to this world than simply the absence of sunlight. It recounts Santori's coming of age as he struggles to protect his family, and the battle for their survival against an unimaginable evil. It is a story of myth and legend becoming nightmare and the indomitable spirit of mankind to live and fight another day.
Also Available
From Melange Books
Alfred C. Bogeyman
by M. Allman
Since his father's deployment, Adrian feels he has to be the man of the house. So when the boogieman scares his little brother, Sam, every night, he and his friends, Ralph and Sean, are determined to find the boogieman and give him a taste of his own medicine. With the help of Socks, Sean's dog, their search leads them to small cottage behind the park where they encounter Alfred C. Bogeyman and the forces of fear, bravery and evil collide.
Also Available
From Melange Books
The Well-Told Tale of Kaity Monday
by Eddie Jones
A biased, sometimes meandering account of a girl who wished to be something she wasn't, The Well-Told Tale of Kaity Monday is first and foremost a tale, one that is well-told.
Kaity Monday is the only girl in history to have experienced life as a tree. Before this, she lived underground with parents who made it abundantly clear, through telling her, that they didn't love her. When it is suggested to Kaity that she go above ground and never return (by her father, Grey, and her mother, May, both of whom hate Kaity) she finds it offensive, exciting, and then tiring.
Coming into contact with a man named Mildy, who is undeniably and obviously evil, Kaity makes the immediate mistake of trusting and following him, only to find that the next days of her life would be spent in the body of what many passersby have described as an oak.
Also Available
From Melange Books
Beyond the Cell
by Sara Tribble
Sixteen-year-old Sonata Wilde is living in Hell.
Not literally Hell, more like a prison stashed away in the mountains known as The Cell. All mythical beings were banished to live here nine years ago, segregated from the humans. Being trapped in captivity is breaking her down and the temptation of escaping grows stronger, regardless of what it might cost her.
No one has ever made it out of The Cell, not with the extreme voltage on the wires and constant guards on patrol. It's damn near impossible, minus one loophole. Sonata has a plan ready to set in motion, along with help standing by to make sure it all goes accordingly. The taste of freedom is within her grasp and she's ready to embrace it once again.