“How did you get in here?”
“That girl you have running around here let me in. You plan on playing house forever? Or just while I work my tail off out in that dust bowl of a yard? Why don't you come out and help?" He mocked her as he took his time slowly dropping his gaze from her upswept hair to the bare toes peeking out from under the hem of her skirt.
"I don't see where my job, or clothes, or anything else about me is your business. I left Asheville without telling you for a reason. I didn't want you in my life. I still don't. So take yourself back outside and get back to work." Ariel straightened her spine and raised her chin. Her voice dropped, taking a tone she'd never used with John before. It was as if someone with class and regal bearing had stepped into her body, taken over, and made her bold.
John looked stunned for about three seconds. Then his face flushed crimson as her words sunk in. She'd finally penetrated his over-inflated ego to reach his blueberry-sized brain. He wouldn't be kind in his rebuttal.
"I'll get back to work, bitch, but I expect you to apologize for your attitude. All I wanted to do was make sure you're safe. After all, taking a job in a haunted house isn’t a normal thing to do." He sounded hurt. He was trying to make her feel guilty. But it wouldn't work. Not this time.
She didn't care anymore. He was a slimy worm-like critter, and she refused to worry about him, about what he thought or felt anymore. He didn’t belong here, in her house.
"Go away, John. You don't belong here. I don't want you to come into this house again. Ever." Ariel turned away, dismissing him. She crossed to the dining room, expecting him to slam out the front door. Instead, he followed her.
Taken by surprise, Ariel gasped when he grabbed her arm. But then she realized her prayers hadn't been answered. He was going to hurt her. Just then the kitchen door opened and Josiah stepped into view. He carried Mamie's long butcher knife in one hand and wore a fierce expression, his eyes blazing. He looked more animated than Ariel had ever seen before.
Josiah was strong with a thickly muscled torso and arms like tree trunks from years of working in the Bradley gardens. Ariel glanced from Josiah to John. Surprisingly the intruder was backing down. He paled as he stared at Josiah's stony face, then at his weapon.
Releasing her, he muttered, "This ain't over, girl. Remember that. I'll be back for you. You belong to me." With one last squinty-eyed glare in her direction, he turned and stomped away, slamming his way out the front door.
Only after they were certain that he was out of the house did Josiah take a deep breath. He relaxed and the gentle man Ariel knew returned instantly. Even his eyes, so hot with anger and a promise of harm a moment ago cooled and became the soft dark eyes that watched her wherever she went in the back yard.
With a half-smile and a nod in her direction, Josiah disappeared back into the kitchen where his breakfast was waiting for him. Then and only then did Ariel allow herself to take a breath.
Though she'd been scared spitless, she'd refused to let John see her fear. She was certain that could be fatal. John would take advantage of any weakness.
"You did just fine, love. But it's time for this to come to an end. You need a strong man of your own to protect you from beasts such as that," the Major's voice rumbled gently.
A moment later, she felt the warm presence of a hand on her shoulder. A large hand squeezed gently as if to reassure her. The warmth traveled up her neck to caress the underside of her jaw. Then he was gone, disappearing as he had come, silently and without fanfare.
Miss Josephine didn’t appear, so Ariel made herself a bacon biscuit and pushed into the kitchen.
"Good morning, Miz Ariel. You have more questions for Mamie?" The black woman was kneading dough again, punching the mass down and forming loaves as she watched Ariel take her place in the corner.
Ariel waited until Mamie finished with the dough and put the loaves aside to rise. Wiping her hands on the muslin cloth tucked into her apron, she settled into her chair. One push of her foot set the chair into motion which reminded Ariel of the ghostly visitor she'd had the night before.
"Tell ole Mamie what puts that look of pure sadness in yo' eyes. Yo' look like yo' done lost yo' dog and the roof over yo' head." Mamie stared straight ahead. Ariel knew her all-seeing eyes had examined her bit by bit and had already diagnosed her problem. The older woman had a perception that was eerie when it came to Ariel’s emotions. Did she have that kind of insight with everyone?
She filled Mamie in on the events of the previous night and of her encounter with John. Mamie continued rocking, a small contented smile on her lips. The all-knowing Mona Lisa smile, Ariel decided. Nothing could or would bother her. She was at peace.
Ariel wished she could be so lucky. Her brain was in chaos. How did she untie the tangled thoughts running around inside her head and put everything in order? There had to be a pattern or a solution in this, somewhere. Or was her confusion caused by the fact that she didn't have all the pieces yet?
"So, this John man. He calls you names and makes to hurt you?" Mamie asked the one question Ariel wasn't sure she wanted to answer.
"Yes. But that's the way John is. He blames everyone around him instead of taking responsibility for his mistakes. In that way, he's never had to grow up. He thinks it’s my fault he took this job he hates working for the landscaper. He followed me to Goldsboro when I didn't want him to." Ariel tried to explain the workings of John's mind. She didn't count on the fact that she didn't know him very well herself.
"You say dat he blames others, don't take no 'sponsibility hisself. Do this make him attractive to you? Or is you jest lookin' for any excuse for the bad man's actions?"
Ariel didn't answer. She’d never thought of it that way. She glanced over at Mamie, but the older woman had closed her eyes and was still. Her chest hardly moved. For a moment Ariel was afraid something had happened to her.
"The bad man'll come again. He'll try to kill Miz Ariel. Just like he kilt Miz Anna. He'll come during the next storm." The voice was two octaves too deep to be Mamie’s and the accent was Caribbean, not Southern.
Ariel began to tremble as the meaning of the strange message sank in.
10
John would try to kill her during the next thunderstorm. Miss Josephine claimed at breakfast that her sore elbow was telling her that the next storm would be within the next couple of days. And the one hundred sixtieth anniversary of Miss Anna’s murder was only two days away. Was history repeating itself? Would he try to accost her while she was here in the house? Of course he would. John would do anything he pleased if he thought he could get away with it.
Ariel fought down a shiver, but the threat of death pushed panic higher and higher. Her heart raced, but it felt like ice pumped through her veins instead of blood. Turning only her head, she stared across the room, out the window, deaf to the soothing tune Mamie crooned as she held Ariel's hands. For several long moments, Ariel closed out the entire world except for the memory of that strange voice announcing that she would be killed during the next storm.
"Now, Miz Ariel, concentrate. Come back and pay attention. Tell me what happened after this John man spoke those bad things. Did the Major say anythin'? Do this John man know the Major is in da house? Do he know anything about the rest o’ us?"
Mamie shook Ariel's shoulder, demanding her attention. Ariel forced herself away from the voice ringing through her head.
"Think, girl, think. What had happened?"
"The Major said he wouldn't let anything hurt me. He decided it was time I had my own warrior. Do you understand what he meant?"
Ariel let Mamie in on the Major's vow. He would protect her, he'd said, but she wasn't sure how. He was only a spirit, just like Miss Anna in her bedroom. Just a spirit who'd touched her, body and soul with his warmth and caring.
"I'll talk to the Major and find out what he's plannin'. You go on upstairs and sleep awhile. You’ll want to be well rested for tonight," Mamie ordered.
Ariel wanted
to question her further but wasn't sure she was ready for the answers. They may have the power to ease her mind or they could prove she was loony. Or was this all a dream? Would she find herself waking up in a cheap motel room sleeping off too many beers and not enough food? What was happening to her? Who was she?
Giving up on her questions, she watched Mamie cross the room to check on her bread. Then the woman moved on to another task. Their chat was over and it was back to work for the cook. The yeasty smell of baking bread assured Ariel that this was real and not just a dream.
Drained from her run-in with John, the unusual scene with Mamie and her vivid dream earlier, Ariel decided a nap was in order. Maybe a couple more hours of sleep would help her regain her equilibrium. In her room, she fell across the bed and immediately drifted into a deep, dreamless state.
She woke two hours later ready for anything, or so she thought. Checking the weather outside, she had to agree with Miss Josephine’s elbow. They were in for a storm and it wasn’t going to take two days to get here. It might not wait until nightfall before breaking.
Angry rolling gray and black clouds filled the sky, as if someone had taken a stick and stirred them up. The air was heavy, the humidity so high Ariel didn't understand what the rain was waiting for. Loose branches and leaves blew around the yard, rustling the newly trimmed hedge like a lady with her petticoats showing.
Turning away from the window, she clenched her fists. She would not think of the threats Mamie's darker half issued. Instead, she would settle for a light lunch and a book from the library.
Or perhaps, Miss Josephine would agree to finish the tour they'd started the day before. She still wondered what other rooms were located across the back of the house. Except for the kitchen, they remained locked to her touch. Or maybe she would just lay back down and watch the wind blow by the window.
She refused to worry about the historical society. There was nothing she could do about them. If they came, they came. She would tap dance her way out of eviction then.
At one o'clock, Ariel entered the dining room. The table was set, but the sideboard was empty. The plates were turned upside down so they wouldn't collect dust. The glasses and pitcher of iced tea were on the sideboard, but it was otherwise empty. Lunch wasn't ready and waiting, as it had been for every other meal.
Curious, she crossed to the kitchen door. Was everyone all right? Had Etta had an accident? Had her watch stopped and dinner already eaten and the table was now laid for supper? Picking up a plate, one quick glance told her the table was ready for the midday meal with what Miss Josephine called the day wear; ivory china that was heavier than the oh-so-delicate bone china used for the evening meal.
"A proper table will be set in this house and the correct utensils used at all times." Miss Josephine had been most stern when Ariel inquired about the reason behind the different patterned dishes and flatware at each meal. Each piece of dishware would be worth a small fortune as they were mint condition antiques. The flatware was real silver and, if sold, could easily support a family of four for a year. But she didn't say a word to Miss Josephine about the priceless antiques. She nodded in understanding of the old ways and ate her meal.
Pausing before pushing the kitchen door open, Ariel wondered if she should intrude. Her chat with Mamie may have thrown her schedule off kilter. If that were the case, Ariel didn't want to barge in, demanding to be fed, especially if she was the cause of the delay. Maybe she should retreat to the living room and wait a few more minutes. Surely someone would let her know what was going on.
Turning, she saw Etta scurry across the foyer and up the stairs. She wore an expression of terror mixed with excitement. A moment later, she raced back down the stairs, pulling Miss Josephine behind her. They headed toward the back of the house. By the time Ariel rounded the dining room table to step into the foyer, they had disappeared.
Feeling left out of the latest household secret, she headed to the front porch. Right where she'd left it the previous day, the rocking chair sat waiting for her. The landscapers had left for the day, their tools and other equipment neatly stacked in the driveway with a tarp covering it, protecting everything from the impending storm.
Ariel rocked, impervious to the wind that yanked at her hair, destroying the French twist Etta had created hours earlier. Focused on the puzzle her life had become, she didn't pay attention to the weather. She struggled to fit together the puzzle pieces of the house, its secrets, and its curious inhabitants. It wasn't normal to move into an old house, see to its care, then discover that the house and grounds were in some kind of bubble in time.
But Ariel was learning not to question things too closely. Intuition told her she needed to hang around and be patient. A full explanation would come out, eventually.
Or would it? Even if she knew everything that was occurring in the house, what could she do about it? Both Miss Josephine and Mamie had warned that she would die if she left the grounds. But, silly her, she'd assumed she could handle any consequences. So far she'd done okay, but a death threat was something else entirely.
Well, she’d done pretty well. A couple of times she was sure she'd crossed over the fine line into insanity, but she’d soon regained her footing. She felt fine, really good, as she quietly rocked on the porch, the storm bearing down on them.
"Miz Ariel? What are Earth are ya'll doin' out here? This storm's the worst I've ever seen and here ya sit, yo' hair all aflutter, and a bitty smile on yo' face. Into that house with ya now. Supper will be served early tonight. Go and get yourself ready." Mamie continued the nagging banter as she shooed Ariel into the house.
Once Ariel was out of the heavy rocking chair, Mamie used one arm to pick up the chair and follow her inside. The same chair Ariel had barely been able to move the day before Mamie hefted like it was nothing. From now on, she'd ask Mamie to carry it for her.
Instead of retreating to her room, Ariel headed to the kitchen. She took her place on the hardback chair next to Mamie's rocker. She knew Mamie would never forgive her if she usurped the authority for possession of the rocker. Besides, Ariel didn't want that kind of power. Mamie was the head of the household, and she was welcome to it.
A moment later, the other woman followed her into the kitchen. The growing shadows threw Ariel and her chair into the darkest of shadows.
It was several minutes before Mamie realized Ariel was in the room. When she noticed the pale woman in the soft pink gown, she jumped certain that she'd seen the shadow of an unknown, unnamed ghost. Ariel leaned forward, proving the form in the corner was human, not of the spirit world.
Mamie took a deep breath to calm nerves that were screaming. Once her calmness returned, she remembered what was to take place and turned to Ariel, impatience evident in her expression.
"Miz Ariel, what yo' doin' in my kitchen? Ya should be upstairs, dressing for dinner. Etta laid out a gown for ya to wear this evenin'. A fine new dress. Now go on with ya, up them stairs and git yo'self all prettied up. Miz Josephine, she says this is to be a special dinner." Mamie gently pulled her from the chair and pushed her through the door to the dining room.
Ariel knew better than to argue so she climbed the stairs to her room. She paused outside the doorway. She was fearful of what might or might not be on the other side of the panel. Slowly, she pushed the door open, peeking around the solid wood panel.
The windows were closed, but creaked from the force of the wind curling around the corner of the house. The only difference she could see was the dress that lay across the bed.
It wasn't just a dress, it was a creation. A magnificent work of silk and lace. Ariel stood for a moment, not certain she should try such an incredible gown on. Surely this was Etta's idea of a joke.
For several long moments, Ariel stared at the dress. It was the softest shade of ivory, with cap sleeves, a tight bodice and a long, sweeping skirt. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever been in the same room with. It looked like a wedding gown. But not just for any wedding. T
his was a gown fit for a princess.
She reached out and brushed one finger over the skirt. It was even softer than it appeared. She stroked the material, not sure why Miss Josephine would demand she wear such a fine creation to dinner. It wasn't as if anyone would see her. Besides, with her luck, she might spill something on it.
Before she could do more than gawk at the dress, Etta entered the room. She looked from the dazed expression on Ariel's face to the dress still on the bed and knew what to do. She untied the ribbons on the dress Ariel wore, then helped her out of the day dress. Then she lifted the ivory gown over Ariel's head and smoothed it down around Ariel’s still form. Once the dress was in place, the ribbons tied and the hooks hooked, Etta pushed Ariel into the chair and went to work on her hair.
When she was finished, Ariel admired the simple, yet elegant style in the hand mirror. She felt more and more like the lady who had lived here, in this room, so long ago. Could this sense of anticipation be what Anna felt all those years ago as she prepared for her man, for the Major? Before she’d been trapped in a room with a madman on a dark, stormy night.
Anna Bradley had been killed almost one hundred and sixty years ago and now she, Ariel, was wearing her clothes. She was living her life and John had made threats against her. She half expected the Major to appear at the bedroom door to escort her to dinner.
Shaking her head, trying to clear her mind, Ariel picked up her skirts and swept from the room. She gracefully glided along in that impossible flowing step that women of the past had accomplished so easily. Women nowadays had no skill at such graceful movements.
Instead of the Major, Miss Josephine appeared to join her for dinner. Ariel saw her eyes widen when she saw her in the beautiful ivory gown.
"Anna? Amelia?" she murmured as she took a step toward the stairs.
"No, Miss Josephine, it's me, Ariel."
Magic and Shadows: A Collection of YA Fantasy and Paranormal Romances Page 121