Jimmy threw up a hand and shielded his eyes. There was no alarm, just the bright light. It turned the entire front lawn from darkness and dusk into high noon. Of course, Jimmy thought, with all of the weirdness they had been through, they probably had a few security measures. It was a motion-detecting light to hopefully scare away anyone attempting to break in.
“Who’s there?” A male voice called from somewhere on or near the porch.
“Um,” Jimmy said hoarsely and then he cleared his throat and tried again. “Um, it’s Jimmy Parker, sir. I’m a student at Knorr High? And, um, well, this is a little odd, but I was hoping I could talk to Tabitha. Or, Mrs. Hollis?”
“What about?” The voice said.
Jimmy saw a shape moving on the porch. The light was still spearing into his brain and he could only make out a shadowy figure up there. Jimmy had only seen Warren Hollis from a distance, walking downtown, for example, or in the newspaper.
“Well,” Jimmy said, and then he decided to just go for it. “I think I’ve been talking to a ghost and I think a girl may have been killed in these parts back in the 60s. And, well, somehow she and I are able to talk. I know it sounds crazy, but --”
Jimmy realized he really did not know what to add to that that would, in any way, make him sound more sane. So, he added a nervous laugh to the end of it and shrugged.
“I see,” the male on the porch said.
A moment later the light turned off. Jimmy saw lots of colored blobs in his vision and was momentarily blind.
“Well,” said the voice from the porch, “when you can see again come on up, Jimmy. I think Tabitha and I would be very interested in hearing your story.”
Jimmy shifted nervously in his chair with a cup of hot tea in his hands. He was never a big tea drinker, but when Warren offered him some, he felt it was polite. After he went upstairs to talk to Tabitha, Warren sat down on a big leather sofa opposite Jimmy, who sat in a big leather chair. Between them was a large and ornately carved wooden coffee table. The entire house was decorated in a variety of styles. Some Native American art hung from one wall, while antiques mixed with newer furniture around the room.
Warren was quiet, studying Jimmy in a way that made Jimmy uncomfortable. Jimmy guessed that Warren had a mental camera inside his head that he turned into his books. Of course, Jimmy reminded himself that he wrote non-fiction. Well, then, he thought, maybe he was studying Jimmy to see if there was a story there he could turn into a non-fiction book. He had to admit that he did not really know how a writer’s brain worked.
“Hello...” A female voice said from behind Jimmy.
Jimmy turned to look and saw a blond woman descending the stairs. She wore green-rimmed glasses and she peered over them at Warren and Jimmy. She also wore a green top and black pants and had long blond hair streaked with hints of gray that cascaded down her shoulders. She was beautiful, Jimmy had to admit, and he reminded himself to close his mouth as he watched her.
“Hello, Mrs. Hollis,” Jimmy said.
“Call me Tabitha, Jimmy,” she replied. “I heard through the grapevine that Knorr High might not have a starting lineup for the football team next season. And, I heard it might be because of you. Is that true?”
Jimmy felt that blush start at the tips of his toes and work its way up again. He shrugged.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Tabitha replied. “Warren came up to tell me that you were here to tell me a story. I am anxious to hear that. Warren and I have kind of become collectors of strange stories about Knorr. This is a very unique place.”
Jimmy paused and took a long sip of his tea. The tea was cinnamon and Jimmy had to admit it was very good. He made a note to ask what brand it was and maybe get some later on. Then his thoughts turned to the situation at hand. What was he going to tell them? Could he find some way to dance around the issue? He had no idea if he could, since he was not a writer or a creative type like Warren probably was. It was just then that Jimmy realized how ridiculous the whole story sounded in his own head. If he told these two what he thought he knew and what he thought was going on, would the first thing that they did be to call his mother and maybe recommend she have him committed?
In the end Jimmy just opened his mouth and let the words fall out. He had no plan. He had no idea what he would say. He was as surprised as anyone when all of the details of everything that had happened since Friday came tumbling out of his mouth in a rush. He watched as Warren and Tabitha’s eyes grew wide as the story weaved its way around the room and into their heads. Jimmy just kept talking. A few times he stumbled, and more than once he had to backtrack to tell them something he had forgotten. But once he started, it was as if he was afraid to even pause to take another sip of tea. If he did so, he figured, he might lose his courage.
When he finished, he was out of breath. He sat there, staring at Tabitha and Warren for what seemed like an eternity. His heart was pounding and he realized he was breathing hard. He took a long gulp of his tea. The silence seemed to stretch out forever and Jimmy shifted nervously.
“Wow,” Tabitha said.
“That about sums up what I was thinking,” Warren replied.
“Do you think I’m crazy?” Jimmy said.
Jimmy expected them to either say yes or do what adults often did when kids told them something they found hard to believe: make up some kind of nonsense and try to stroke his ego. All the while they would be secretly plotting to call the police and have him dragged away in a straightjacket. Instead, both of them laughed.
“Did I say something funny?” Jimmy asked.
Tabitha held up a hand and rocked back in laughter. She had a loud, booming laugh, and tears sprang from the corners of her eyes.
“Jimmy,” Warren said, clearing his throat and getting his laughter under control. “If you had any idea what we went through just a couple of years ago, you’d understand why we’re laughing. No, we absolutely do not think you are crazy.”
Tabitha got herself under control and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “Have you ever heard of vanishing hitchhiker stories, Jimmy?”
Jimmy shook his head. “No.”
Tabitha cleared her throat and took a sip from her own cup of tea. “Nearly every culture around the world has a story that falls under the vanishing hitchhiker moniker. Basically, it’s a story about a stretch of road where a girl is often seen. The color of her hair, the color of her dress, and the manner of her death changes from place to place. But in each case, she is seen beside the road hitchhiking. Sometimes she vanishes after just a few minutes, but other times she dances with a young man or travels with them for a long time. Then, on the way back, or at a certain point, she asks the driver to stop and then either walks off into a place where no one lives, such as a cemetery, or she just vanishes.”
She paused and gazed at Jimmy for a moment over the top of her glasses. Tabitha had the hint of a smile on her face and her eyes twinkled impishly.
“Sound familiar?” she asked.
“Yeah. So I’m guessing that there’s one here, too?’
Tabitha and Warren both nodded.
“Yes,” Warren said. “And she is described just the way you described her. She has the blue dress, the dark hair, and the white skin. Your story, however, goes an extra mile in that she hasn’t appeared before. She has never reappeared to anyone before a second time and she certainly has not communicated to anyone afterwards. Normally, she just vanishes and then someone else, or an entirely different group of people, sees her. You are the first person to whom she has appeared, then re-appeared.”
Jimmy took another sip of the tea. It had cooled to room temperature. The three of them stared at each other for a while.
“So,” Jimmy said finally, “what does that mean?”
Tabitha stood and began to walk around the room, as if looking for something. “Well, I am concerned about the newspaper archives being missing from the library, first off. What’s missing from this story is the actual story behind the girl. In all o
f the other instances of vanishing hitchhiker tales, there is always a story about how the girl ended up a ghost and walking beside the road. In the story heard around Knorr, it’s always that she was there on the side of the road, she went for a ride, she came back, and vanished near the bridge. What there never is is any attempt to explain why she’s there. It’s always been rather weird.”
She finally found a laptop buried beneath some papers over on a large desk in the corner. She came back to the couch and opened the laptop. Tabitha’s fingers flew across the keys. After a moment, she waved Jimmy over to the couch.
“These are my archives,” she said, pointing to the screen. On it was a rather unremarkable looking website with a search bar at the top. “You say you actually looked for the word ‘sapphire’ in those old paper books and online?”
Jimmy bobbed his head up and down in the affirmative.
Tabitha shook her head. “You got guts, kid. Without a last name, it’s virtually impossible to find someone. Now, let me try.”
Tabitha’s fingers flew across the keyboard. Warren leaned in to watch over her other shoulder. The screen went white for a moment, and then a number of links appeared in blue.
“I see,” Tabitha said. “Yes, you’re right. There does appear to have been a number of stories done about someone with the name Sapphire in the sixties.”
She clicked on a link. Again, the screen went white. It stayed white for some time. Then, suddenly, there were black letters in the upper left-hand corner on an otherwise all-white screen.
SEARCH ITEM NOT FOUND.
Tabitha frowned and hit the back button on her browser. They were returned to the list of blue links. She tried another.
SEARCH ITEM NOT FOUND.
“How can this be?” she asked, turning to Warren. “The only person who should have access to this is me.”
Warren was puzzled. “Well, when is the last time you’ve checked on this story?”
“This is the first time.”
“It could have been removed when the archives were uploaded,” Warren said. “Of course, someone would have had to make the links we just saw. Or they were uploaded when the archives went digital, but someone came through and deleted the files, but didn’t know how to delete the links.”
“I oversaw the conversion of those archives myself,” Tabitha protested. “I would know if something like that happened.”
“You checked each link and story?” Warren asked. “Even if you did, you would not be the first person to find that they had been hacked.”
Tabitha opened her mouth to protest again, but then stopped. She chewed on her lower lip for a moment. Then she turned to look at Jimmy. Jimmy had been following the conversation with growing alarm, his eyes wide.
“I think you may have stumbled across something here, my young friend,” Tabitha said. “I’m going to have to try and check what remains of the physical archives. However, I fear there isn’t much there. When the offices were firebombed, most of the physical stuff got burned up.”
“What does all of this mean?” Jimmy said, almost in a whisper.
There was another of those long pauses. It was as if the three of them were now reading each other’s minds. They all knew what it meant, but to say it out loud meant that it was actually real, and none of them wanted to deal with that.
“It means,” Tabitha said, “that the evidence is pointing to a very, very nasty ending to your ghostly friend, Jimmy. And if archives are being destroyed, and maybe even the newspaper archives hacked, it seems that some potentially prominent people in and around Knorr were involved in some way.”
Jimmy swallowed, and his throat made an odd clicking sound. He suddenly wished he had more tea.
“You may have stumbled onto something far more dangerous than just a ghostly urban legend,” Warren said quietly. “This could stir things up around here.”
Warren took a drink from his cup and set it down on the coffee table.
“Again,” he said, and then rolled his eyes.
They talked for about another hour. Then Jimmy said he really needed to go. Tabitha suggested that he stop by her offices tomorrow. Jimmy said he would try and then acknowledged he was in trouble with his mom and grounded. Tabitha and Warren found this funny again, and Tabitha suggested he do his best.
Jimmy said his goodbyes and then turned down an offer from Warren to drive him back home. He did not mention that he was supposed to be meeting what they had now all agreed was a ghost at the bridge. Jimmy’s mind and heart felt like they were going in a million different directions as he mounted his bike and headed off into the darkness.
Jimmy pedaled his way quickly through the woods and up and down the hills and around the curves. He barely noticed what he was doing, his brain working on instinct and muscle memory. His mind was churning over and over the things he had just discussed with Tabitha and Warren. What had he gotten himself into? That was the question he kept coming to again and again.
As he neared the bridge, Jimmy slowed his pedaling and his thoughts came back to the task at hand. His heart was hammering in his chest. Part of it was from pedaling so hard, and part of it was excitement about seeing Sapphire. However, he now had to admit that part of it was fear. Was she a demon? A zombie? What the hell was she, and how the hell was anything they had done so far even remotely possible?
Jimmy came to rest near the bridge. He was breathing hard, trying to stop his heart from pounding like it was about to come out of his chest. He looked up into the sky, studying the stars, and noticed tiny dancing lights way up in the air that he guessed were a passing airplane. He had never wanted to be on an airplane more in his life. Jimmy wondered how long he would have to wait, or if Sapphire would even show.
It turned out he did not have to wait long.
“Hi, Jimmy,” she said from somewhere off to his left.
Jimmy turned and there she was, at the edge of the bridge, right near where it ended and the road began. She was shimmering, as if she had an internal light of her own. Her skin was almost translucent, it was so white. Her hair was dark, almost an empty space over her head it blended so well with the darkness beyond her. Finally, there was the blue dress. Tonight it seemed to reflect the dim light of the stars themselves, sending off incandescent light.
“Wow,” Jimmy said. “You look amazing.”
Sapphire smiled and looked down at her feet. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” she said.
Jimmy stood up straight and sighed.
“I have more questions tonight than any other time,” he said. “Are you a zombie or something?”
Sapphire raised her head and tilted it to the side, squinting one eye as if Jimmy were standing in front of a bright light. “What’s a zombie?” she asked.
Jimmy smiled. “I guess you missed the whole zombie craze. You know, someone who died and has been brought back to life?”
“Like Dracula?’” she asked.
Jimmy shrugged. “Close enough.”
Sapphire chimed with airy laughter. “No.”
Jimmy moved closer to her. She moved closer to him. He could see Sapphire’s eyes, and it seemed like more starlight was in those, as well. He reached out his hands and she took his in hers. She felt so real. She felt warm. A rush of electricity ran between them.
“You’re a legend around here, you know,” Jimmy said.
“Am I?” Sapphire whispered.
Jimmy nodded. “You don’t know?”
Sapphire shook her head slightly. “Like I said, much of what’s happened to me I don’t really remember. Have I been here a long time?”
“Yes,” Jimmy said with a hint of sadness in his voice. “You’ve been to dances with other guys before. Getting into their cars, then telling them to drop you off here. Then you vanish. You’re a vanishing hitchhiker story.”
Sapphire’s eyes dimmed. She frowned and stepped away from Jimmy. Then her hand went to her mouth and she gasped.
“I remember,” she said quietly. “Ever
y time we meet. Every time you tell me something, it sparks something in my mind. I remember.”
Sapphire looked up into Jimmy’s eyes. There were tears standing out against the dark pools that were her eyes. Even her tears sparkled, Jimmy marveled.
“I’ve been so lost,” she said. “I’ve been looking for someone to help me, Jimmy. Someone who can actually help me.”
Jimmy came forward and put his arms around her. Again, he marveled at how warm she felt. She felt solid and real. She did not feel like vapor or a monster. She did not feel broken beneath his fingertips.
“But help you with what?” Jimmy asked.
“You already know,” she replied, putting her head against his chest.
Jimmy sighed. Yes, he already knew. He was already working on it.
“You have no idea how you ended up like this?” Jimmy asked.
He felt Sapphire’s head turn back and forth against his chest, indicating no.
“What’s it like, then?” Jimmy asked.
“What?”
“What’s it like where you go?” Jimmy asked. “Where do you go when you disappear from here?”
Sapphire raised her head. “I don’t really know. I walk down there. I mean, I feel compelled to walk down there. It’s hard to explain. I just know I have to go down there and then, suddenly, I’m not on the banks of the river anymore. I’m in a place that is mostly dark, save for a little spot of light that surrounds me. I can hear other things, sometimes, moving around in the darkness. Sometimes I hear crying. Sometimes…well, sometimes I hear things that scare me.”
Sapphire: A Paranormal Romance Page 12