“So you haven’t noticed any ghosts … I mean spirits so far?” Kade pressed.
“No, I have not.”
He looked satisfied with that answer. “I can’t claim to have the answers to everything so whether that stuff you just talked about is true or not I can’t say for sure. But I am aware that things do happen that cannot always be explained.” He stood up and held out a hand to me. “Want to come look at my paining?”
I allowed him to help me up from the sofa. He let go of my hand as soon as I was standing beside him and motioned toward the door, looking at Nancy as he did so. “Nancy? You coming too?”
“No, I’ll find out what Tess thinks tomorrow. Right now I have to find Modesta and go over a few things with her and then Jack and I have some paperwork to take care of.” Nancy gave us a quick hug. “I’ll see you both at breakfast?”
“Sure. Have a good night then, Nancy, and don’t fret over that door.” Kade gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze as we walked passed her and out the door.
Neither of us talked as we headed to his cottage. I was too preoccupied to hold a conversation anyway. The coldness was back and so were the cobwebs. Whatever Kade wanted to show me, it was going to be pretty significant.
CHAPTER TEN
Kade’s cottage was almost an exact replica of mine. He had more personal stuff lying around than I did but he was also going to be here for the whole summer. He was using the area near the sliding glass doors to do his painting. An easel holding a large canvas took up most of the floor space and faced the doors so I couldn’t see the picture.
“I make a pencil drawing before I begin painting. This picture I started today down on the shore just as the tide started out. I wanted to paint the area where the peninsula juts out because I like the rock formations there and the way the water sprays when it breaks against them. You were walking a good distance away when I started the drawing.” He paused, stared at the easel for a long moment then frowned. “I didn’t notice anything different until I got back here. I was looking the drawing over, making little adjustments and then I noticed it.”
When he didn’t say anything else, I felt prompted to ask the obvious. “Noticed what?”
Kade looked at me and held my gaze. “I want you to check it out … tell me what you see.”
My heart pounding, I walked to the easel. The picture was startling in its clarity. Kade was quite good, brilliant in fact. He captured the shoreline perfectly. Then I saw what he wanted me to see. My heart pumping madly, I leaned closer to be sure of what I was seeing. A figure was shadowed into the drawing. It lay almost unrecognizable amongst the rocks, its angle unnatural. Another shadow stood above it. The shadowed figure above was darker, more sinister, and quite big. Kade had blended the figures into the natural formations of the landscaping. Still, it was obvious that there were two figures … two people. One of them, I knew, was dead. The scene was that of night for everything was bathed in moonlight and yet he told me he had drawn it this morning. “Did you intend for the picture to portray a night bathed in light from a full moon?”
“Not at first, but as I began to shade it, I felt inspired to do so.” He waited for me to say more. When I did not, he waved an impatient hand. “I had no intention of adding to what I actually saw other than the addition of moonlight.”
I looked up and met his dark troubled eyes. This wasn’t sitting too well with him. He had done something he didn’t understand and couldn’t explain and that bothered him. “What were you thinking about as you drew this?”
Kade ran a hand up through his thick dark hair. “Nothing in particular. When I am drawing or painting, I get lost in what I’m doing.” He gave a short laugh. “To tell you the truth, I don’t even know if I’m thinking anything.”
“It’s like a form of mediation. When you are so focused on something that it obliterates everything else from your attention; that is an intense state of meditation. While in a meditative state, our spirits are open to many things.” I waved a hand to the picture. “You drew those figures … and I am assuming that is what you were waiting for me to notice … because you were inspired from the Tri-State to do so.” I stood before the picture and tried to feel out the message. “The figure lying on the rocks … he is dead?” I glanced at Kade but he had a closed expression on his taut face. No help was going to be coming from him. “The shadowed figure near him, though, is not as clear, more an aberration.” I continued to stare quietly at the picture hoping to get an understanding to the puzzle it presented. “I’m not sure the standing figure is a person … it isn’t quite so defined. Could it represent spirit? A dark one maybe?” I was speaking more to myself than Kade but when he made a muffled exclamation, I glanced at him. He went into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and grabbed a beer.
“Would you like a drink, Tess?” He waved his can in front of him. “I have beer and …” He glanced into the open refrigerator. “There’s some wine left … white, semi-sweet if you prefer that?”
I walked over to the counter that divided the dining area from the kitchen and leaned on the granite surface. “I’ll take the wine if you don’t mind.”
Kade set a green wine bottle on the counter and opened a cupboard next to him to grab a wine glass. He poured the remainder of the contents, almost a full glass, and handed it to me.
“Thanks.” I accepted his offering and thought at the same time that I really needed to be getting back to my own place. Sitting here with Kade sharing a drink … well, I was not comfortable with the situation. I didn’t want our acquaintance to go any further than it was. As I followed him out to the patio and we sat down in chairs next to each other, I knew the futility of such a want. Kade was given a clue to the mystery of Sea Willow and that meant he was being included in the solving of that mystery.
“So what do you make of it? You are reading into the two figures a bit more than I expected, but then for a medium, I should expect no less I suppose.” Kade took a long swallow of his beer, his gaze never leaving mine.
I turned my head to look out over the water. The sun was down but there was a bright moon and it was a clear night. A cool breeze blew over us and I knew I’d have to leave soon to get a sweater. The tide was in so the waves were quite loud as they crashed insistently against the rocks. “In what way am I reading into it a bit more than you expected?”
“Well, you said the figure on the ground is dead … what makes you say that? And the shadow above it, you think it is a spirit?”
I sipped the wine, which I found to be quite good, and then took another sip before answering. “It’s just an impression I get, the first thing that popped into my mind when I noticed them.” I glanced at Kade; he too was looking out at the water. “What was your impression when you noticed them?”
“I thought, holy shit, what did I paint that for?”
I laughed because he sounded so very surprised with himself and after a moment he laughed as well. But then his expression grew serious. “I’ve never put something in a picture that I wasn’t consciously aware of. When I drew that area, I was simply shadowing, there was no thought in my mind that I was drawing people.” He ran his hand through his hair again. “I was drawing what I saw and I can tell you, other than seeing you and by this time you were out of sight, I saw no figures of any kind. I even went back to study that area and see if it was a trick of light. There is nothing there like what I ended up drawing.”
Because he looked so bothered by it, I reached across the table and covered his hand briefly with my own. “It’s nothing to be worried about, Kade. You drew a clue to the mystery I’m trying to solve here.”
“Mystery?”
I shifted uncomfortably and withdrew my hand from his, wrapped it around my wine glass, determined to keep it there. “I’m talking about the haunting. If there are spirits trapped here, then they need help to move on. I’d like to help free them.”
Kade took his time answering but I think it was because he wasn’t sure how he wanted to a
pproach this conversation. “So you do believe the place is haunted? By the tragic lovers of forty years ago?”
“So you know more about the story than what was in the article. I didn’t know they died only forty years ago.” For some reason, I had assumed the tragedy was much older than that.
“Only? Forty years is a long time to be haunting a place, wouldn’t you say?”
I had to laugh at that one. “Some places are haunted by spirits that have been there for hundreds of years. Time is of no consequence on the other side.”
“So how did you get this talent for talking to the dead?”
I studied Kade’s expression for a moment and saw that he was curious but not quite buying into it just yet. “I’ve always had a sensitivity to that sort of thing. When I was older … late teens … I realized what I was doing. My mother loved the whole idea of it and dragged me from psychic to psychic as we tried to figure out how to develop my ability and validate that I did indeed have a gift.”
“So no one else in your family can do what you do?”
“Not that I know of.”
We were both silent for a long time. Kade finished his beer and went for another. I still had half my wine left. When he rejoined me, he had a pack of cigarettes with him. “Would you like a smoke?”
“Actually, I’m trying to quit.” When he started to put the cigarettes away, I waved my hand. “Please go ahead. It’s okay, really.”
“I didn’t start smoking until I joined the military. Seemed to be the thing to do at the time … offered us a break when we needed one.”
“How long were you in the Marines?”
“Almost fifteen years.” He took a drag off his cigarette, blew out slowly. “I would have stayed for thirty but …” A pained look crossed his face and he glanced away.
“You were wounded?”
“A goddamn bomb blew our vehicle to smithereens.” Kade passed a hand across his face. He rested his arms on the table and leaned toward me. “Tell me something, Tess, why do you suppose that out of a vehicle of six people, I am the only one to survive?” His hands fisted with frustration. “There were five other men in that Humvee and they were good men … better than me … but I’m the only one that lived through it. Just me.” Now that he was talking about it, the closed expression was gone, his face ravaged with inner pain. “One of the men … he was more a kid, only nineteen years old.” Kade ran a hand through his hair and down over his face. “He was laughing at a stupid joke just before it exploded. Jesus … I can’t get it out of my head.” He took another long drag of his cigarette. “It’s why I started painting. I’d always loved drawing. Painting I took up much later. When I’m drawing or painting, I’m not thinking about all the goddamn shit that happened over there.”
“I’m sorry, Kade. I can’t even imagine how awful it was to see what you saw, experience what you experienced.”
Kade took a long swallow of his beer, followed that with a drag of his cigarette, then he looked at me for a long quiet moment. “Did you contact your husband after …?”
Startled to have the conversation turned back to me, I shifted uncomfortably. The past two years I talked about Mike and Tootsie until people started avoiding me. It was too much for them … my anger, my questions, my hurt. That was when I started seeing Dr. Nixon. Now that I had accepted their deaths, I found myself reluctant to talk about it. But Kade needed to talk and he needed to understand. It was only fair that I be as open with him as he was being with me. “I tried to contact Mike but … well, after the accident I lost my ability. It’s only since arriving here that it’s come back.” Suddenly a drag off his cigarette sounded quite good. I must have communicated that thought because Kade held his cigarette out to me.
“Go ahead. Heavy conversations like this almost always warrant a smoke.”
I smiled at that, glad to see some of the tension easing from his body. I took his cigarette and drew in a quick drag. It was only after I handed it back that I felt guilty for doing so. Sharing a cigarette with a man was … well, it was like sharing a kiss. I felt heat fill my face and turned away from him, hoping he wouldn’t notice my flush.
“So why did you lose the ability? What exactly is this ability anyway? Do you actually see dead people?”
“I lost my ability because I was so damned mad.”
Kade nodded in understanding. “I can relate to that. I was furious as hell when I learned they were all dead.” He sighed, closed his eyes. “Why me, Tess? Why didn’t I die?”
“It just wasn’t your time.”
Kade made a gesture of impatience. “You know how many people have said that? I am sick to death of that answer. It doesn’t explain a thing. How was it Jacob’s time?” He leaned toward me again. “Do you know how many young lives have been lost in this goddamn war with the Al Qaida?”
I could feel his anguish and it was all I could do not to cry. “Too many, Kade. But … well …” I shook my head, knowing that what I was about to say was probably not going to help but I said it anyway. “They aren’t really gone. Their physical bodies are gone but they do live on in spirit.” That never gave me comfort, though, when it came to Mike and Tootsie, and I was pretty sure by his expression that it wasn't doing it for him either.
“Their grieving families and friends don’t give a shit about that, Tess. They want the physical body, alive and well, living and breathing.”
“Yes, of course they do. It’s what I wanted for Mike and Tootsie as well. But, the fact is, they are gone and they chose to do so.”
Kade slammed a fist on the table, startling me. “Goddamn it, Tess, those men and women that died over there did not do so because they wanted it. Their lives were taken from them by cold-blooded murderers in a senseless act of hatred!”
I laid my hand on his arm, the muscles there rigid with tension. “Kade, I believe that we are in control of our destinies. Not consciously, of course, but from a much deeper level, where it really counts … from within our souls. Every person on this earth, who dies, does so because they concurred with that outcome. Sometimes they aren’t consciously ready but they are willing–always–they must be willing or death does not occur.”
“Why would you believe such a thing, Tess?” Kade shook his head. “That makes no sense. Who, in their right mind, is going to agree to their death … other than those who are suicidal of course?”
“Kade, this life we are living, it is a temporary thing. We all know this and we all accept this. Now, unfortunately, we cannot all die of old age in our sleep. That sounds the ideal way to go but it accomplishes nothing if we’ve come here to explore all manners of experience.” I paused; checked to see if he was still with me, saw that he was indeed listening carefully to what I was saying. “I don’t have the answers to everything, Kade, I wish I did because I’ve been asking why this and why that since I was old enough to think. Unfortunately, I get answers to less than half those questions.” I took a sip of my wine, finished it then set my glass aside. “I can only say that death does not make someone’s life meaningless. And those of us left behind…well, there has to be a reason for that as well.” I covered Kade’s hand with mine and squeezed it gently. “Don’t feel guilty for surviving that bomb explosion, Kade. You obviously have more to do here.” I waved toward the cottage behind us. “Your paintings are beautiful…lovely, they give people pleasure and everyone who comes into contact with you is affected in some way. Maybe you will affect them in a way that helps them through life. That is a great achievement indeed…helping others. The experiences you had in the military…you learned a lot about life, death, friendship, sacrifice, hardship…and those experiences have made you the person you are today. People admire you, Kade. I can see it in Nancy’s expression when she looks at you…in Jack’s eyes you can tell he holds you in the highest esteem. Never be sorry for being alive.”
“And tell me, Tess, did you ever wish you were dead? After Mike died … didn’t you want to go with him?”
Tears fil
led my eyes. I couldn’t stop them from spilling over. “Yes, Kade. I wanted to die too. The fact I’m still here tells me I have unfinished business. Same goes for you.”
“So why couldn’t you contact your husband?”
“Because I was so blasted mad. At God, at him … myself, the angels …” I reached for his package of cigarettes. “May I?”
Kade lit my cigarette and then another for himself. We smoked in companionable silence. “Are you still mad, Tess?”
“No. Reluctantly resigned.” I stood up. “Mind if I grab one of your beers?”
“Of course not, help yourself.”
I went into his cottage, paused to look at the painting for a moment, then went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer and another for Kade. I wasn’t a big fan of the stuff but this was a night for drinking and smoking. When I rejoined Kade, I handed him his beer and raised mine in salute. Kade gave me a long, intense look.
“Thanks, Tess. I need this I think … talking about it.”
“Haven’t you talked to anyone about your experience, Kade?”
“Yes, of course, with military counselors.” He finished his cigarette and sank back in his chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “The explosion messed up my legs pretty bad. Rehab took over a year, when they gave me the option of medical retirement, I took it. I support the troops, Tess, but I just can’t do that anymore. The senseless killing … it was destroying me inside. You know, when you think about it … war doesn’t make any goddamn sense whatsoever.”
I nodded in agreement. “No it doesn’t. Drinking and driving doesn’t make any sense either.”
Kade reached across and squeezed my hand. “I truly am sorry, Tess. How long were you married?”
“Two years.” Tears formed again and I let them. It was okay to shed tears for loved ones, just not on a constant basis. “We knew each other for three. He was a good man and I loved him very much.”
“What did he think about your ability?”
“He was intrigued by it.” I took another drag from my cigarette then stared at it with disgust. Honestly, why did I persist with this particular habit? Especially when it did absolutely no good for my body? “Mike was a lawyer, a prosecuting attorney. He believed people should be held accountable for their actions and devoted his life to helping that cause.” I offered Kade the remainder of my cigarette, proud of the fact that I smoked less than half of it. Kade took it from me, nodded his thanks. “He was lobbying for tougher drunk driving laws when he was killed.”
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