Mr. Hoffman thought for a second. “Why yes, there is a secret room. I don’t call it that…I just use it for storage, but when I bought the building 30 years ago, I do believe the owner at that time pointed out that this room was used to hide slaves who were trying to escape to Canada or as far north as possible. It’s the small space under the basement stairs. There’s a door there. It’s kind of hidden behind stacks of boxes. Like I said, I use it for storage so I don’t get in there much.”
Mr. Hoffman turned and looked at Luke. “Do you think the disturbances in my building are connected to the secret room and the Underground Railroad?”
“We’re not sure,” Luke said nodding at me. “But we plan to find out.”
Mr. Hoffman stood. “Well, I’ll let you get at it then. I sincerely hope whatever you have planned works and this poor soul can find some peace.”
“Thank you Mr. Hoffman,” I said. “We do too.”
As Mr. Hoffman took off down the sidewalk, the rest of our team showed up.
“So did you find out anything useful?” Syd asked. “We struck out, except for my purchase of a pound of peanut butter fudge.” Goog looked at her forlornly. “That I will share with you sugar.” Goog brightened.
“I found something to spend a few dollars on too.” Goog pulled out a fancy old vase made of carnival glass. “This should go with my Mom’s collection.”
I looked at Matt. “So, what did you buy?”
Matt shrugged. “Nothing. Stuff here is too old. I need more modern items to keep my interest. Although I’m hoping Syd will be kind enough to toss me a square of her fudge.”
“Don’t worry,” Syd replied. “If I try to eat most of this fudge my backside won’t fit through the door.”
“Well while you guys were out shopping, Eden and I believe we’ve made a connection to the antique shop here and the art gallery.”
As we all walked into the antique shop Syd asked, “Does it have anything to do with those paintings?”
“Yes it does,” I answered. We filled them in on what we had learned from Jasmine regarding her heritage, the underground railroad, and that it was possible her ancestor, Gabriel Harris had escaped with his family as far north as right here at Willet’s Pike, where he was captured.
“There are too many coincidences for it not to have some merit,” I explained. Matt looked at me dubiously, but I was used to him.
However, Goog was more receptive. “I can see that. We took a look around the visitor center and it was mentioned that this town was founded by Quakers.”
“Remember, I told you all that when we first got the case,” Matt replied.
“But did you know that it was the Quakers that started the Underground Railroad?” Goog asked. “It was started in Pennsylvania, but spread here into Ohio.” Goog nodded enthusiastically. “It seems to fit.”
“But now we have to see why the spirit is so upset,” I said, leading the way to the basement stairs. When I arrived at the top of the stairs, I turned and faced Luke and the team. “I think I should do this alone.”
I could see the relief on Goog’s face. Poor guy, I hoped someday we could quell his fear. Of course I knew Luke would have none of it. “No way, not after that episode the other night.”
“I can go down with her,” Syd offered. “No ghost is going to try anything with me there.” Syd was the opposite of Goog…she was fearless.
“Shouldn’t I set up some equipment?” Matt asked.
I shook my head. “Not this time. I just feel like this spirit wants as few people around as possible before he reveals himself. It’s like too many people makes him agitated.” I looked over at Luke. “Stay at the top of the stairs. I’ll call for you if I need to.”
Luke’s face was full of concern. “What if the spirit closes your throat again and you can’t yell.”
“He wasn’t trying to choke me, I realize that now.” I looked down the stairs. “He was trying to convey to me how he felt during one of the most pivotal times in his life. He wasn’t trying to harm me.”
Luke relented reluctantly. He usually gave in to me, mainly because he trusted my judgment and that’s one of the reasons I loved him.
Before descending the stairs I looked back at my team. “If you hear the rattling chains or loud yelling, don’t come down. Wait until I call for you…okay?”
The guys nodded. “I’ll keep them corralled,” Syd said.
I made my way down the stairs into the dank basement, using my flashlight to see the steps. Once I got to the bottom I pulled the string on the overhead light. I made my way to the area behind the stairs. Boxes were stacked in front of the area where Mr. Hoffman told us the secret room was. I could see the skinny door behind the boxes. The door was painted the same color as the wall so it wasn’t easy to distinguish. I’m not surprised we missed it. I knew I didn’t need to open the door or investigate inside the room. I could feel his presence as soon as I had arrived. Now I just needed him to open up to me.
I sat down on one of the boxes and allowed my mind to empty of everyday thoughts and concerns. I knew if I wanted to make contact, it would have to be on a level he was comfortable with…and I didn’t believe it would be face to face. Not that he was ashamed…oh no, it wasn’t that. Far from it. He was a proud man. But he didn’t want to be seen shackled. And unfortunately, in this place, he had been…and it left a lasting imprint.
After about 10 minutes I spoke. “Gabriel…are you here? My name is Eden and I’d like to talk with you. Find out why you’re upset.”
I heard chains rattling. Not loud, just softly. I watched the door under the stairway when suddenly a fog began to grow. It wasn’t thick, and I could see a form materializing through it. The man in Jasmine’s painting came into focus. He was no longer shackled, but he carried the chains in his right hand. He was clothed in the same apparel I’d seen in the painting and photos. Tattered shirt and pants that were too short. He was a tall and stout man with muscular arms. But his brown eyes were kind.
“Hello Gabriel,” I said.
“Hello Eden,” he answered.
“Gabriel, what is bothering you? Why do you yell and rattle your chains so loudly that it frightens people? Is there something you want me to tell them?”
“My message is for Jasmine…my granddaughter,” Gabriel replied. “I want you to tell her to destroy those paintings in the art gallery basement.”
“The ones of you shackled and of your scarred back?”
“And the one of her grandmother with the bloody fingers.”
“I will do that,” I answered. “How do you feel about her other paintings? The ones upstairs in the art gallery?”
Gabriel rocked the chains back and forth. “Those I have no problem with. But I don’t wish for her to remember me or her grandmother in the other way. Tell her not to remember me shackled, but as a proud and strong black man.”
“I will tell her that. Would you like to tell me your story so I may relay it to Jasmine? I know she’d love to hear it.” I was hoping he would as I was just as interested.
Gabriel nodded. “Yes, I will tell you. Life on Easton plantation was hard. Taskmaster made it so. He would beat down the strongest of us so we would never take a mind to escaping. But he could never break me. I did not want my sons to grow up in such a place, one filled with grey days and even darker nights. I finally found a way out through a man who the taskmaster hired to build another barn on the property. He was part of the Underground Railroad and arranged for us to sneak out one night.”
“We traveled for miles and miles. Every mile that came between us and Easton plantation made it feel like freedom was actually possible. By the time we crossed the Ohio River, I thought we had made it. The plan was to go further north to Michigan, but we needed money in order to buy provisions. We stopped at Willet’s Pike because of it being a Quaker and slave friendly town. My wife became a seamstress and I helped at the feed store, which is this building right here.”
“So this was a fee
d store back then?”
“Yes, and the owner allowed my family to stay here in the basement until we had enough provisions to move north. It was nice to walk through the town and be treated like an equal. My sons could play with white children and I had money in my pocket.”
My eyes filled with tears, thinking that these simple things could make him so happy.
“And then one day I saw him. The taskmaster. Somehow he’d gotten word that a family of black slaves was living in Willet’s Pike and he came to investigate. Townsfolk weren’t too talkative to him, so he went to the sheriff for help in persuading. I hurried and gathered my family and get them away from the town. I paid a man heading north all the money I had to take them with him. My wife and sons pleaded, but I couldn’t go. I thought if taskmaster had me he’d forget about going after my wife and sons.”
“Is that what happened?”
Gabriel smiled. “Yes, it was. They were able to get away and I hope have a happy life. Taskmaster found me later that day, down here in the secret room. He had me shackled and then led me through Main Street. He tried to humiliate me. But this wasn’t the south and a slave state. He only succeeded in humiliating himself as people looked on at disgust at him.”
“Once we arrived back at Easton, I was lashed and held up as an example of what happens if you try and escape. But try as they might, they couldn’t bury the one bright spot in me. Knowing that my sons would grow up as free men. Every one of those lashings was worth it.”
“So I want you to tell my granddaughter not to remember me shackled or scarred. That it doesn’t define me as a person. Instead, tell her to remember her ancestors as the proud people they were. People who worked hard, loved harder, and never gave up hope.”
He was beginning to fade. “Gabriel, don’t you want to move on? Be with your family instead of this place? Where you were captured.”
“You don’t understand Eden. I had many good days and nights with my family here in Willet’s Pike before taskmaster came. It was our first real taste of freedom. I cherish those blissful days with my family here, and I try not to focus on the ugly memories. But when Jasmine painted those portraits…well, I could not let it stand. I had to get attention the only way I knew how. Luckily my voice was heard, although I’m sure it was quite scary to some. Yet I knew someone like you would come so I could convey to my granddaughter not to weep for what happened to me. But instead to remember our strength as a people to overcome atrocity.”
I could barely see him now. The fog was becoming thicker and now he was only an outline.
“I will tell her Gabriel. Peace be with you!”
“And peace be with you as well Eden.” And with that he was gone.
I sat there in silence for another 10 minutes or so, contemplating everything Gabriel had told me. His words were heartbreaking and uplifting at the same time, and I couldn’t wait to tell Jasmine what her grandfather wanted of her.
It made me think of my own Grandpa Winky and how I wished he would appear to me again someday. I missed him and his visits. I guess I didn’t realize how important those visits were until they were gone. But I had a feeling that on this journey I found myself on, we’d find a way to meet again.
That evening I met with Jasmine and she was mystified yet thrilled to hear of her great grandfather’s words. She promised to burn the paintings in the basement, but continue painting more serene portraits of her ancestors. Luke and I told Mr. Hoffman and Mrs. Dunkin that we believed the haunting in their buildings was now finished.
And finally, the next night, we all went on the ghost walk. I had looked forward to it and it didn’t disappoint. I could see Matt out of the corner of my eye as he shook his head silently to the ghost tales told by our host. However, Goog listened intently while Syd eyed the goods in the store windows.
We arrived at our last stop on the ghost walk…the Victorian house where the children had been killed in the awful wagon accident over 100 years ago. The ghost walk host pointed to the spires on top of the house. “Watch,” he said. “Soon you will see the dancing orbs.”
We looked upward. Luke stood behind me and put his arms around me. I felt safe and secure in his arms.
“There!” Syd yelled and pointed towards the spires. “I see them.”
I looked up at the bouncing rainbow colored orbs as they crisscrossed through the spires. And I could see the children who had died in the wagon accident playing within the orbs. I could tell everyone else only saw the round colored circles, while I could see the children. And it was if they were saying…don’t remember how we died…remember how we lived.
******
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These books are all from my Caesars Creek Series
A Frozen Scoop of Murder (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book One)
Death by Chocolate Sundae (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Two)
Soft Serve Secrets (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Three)
Ice Cream You Scream (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Four)
Double Dip Dilemma (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Five)
Melted Memories (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Six)
Triple Dip Debacle(Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Seven)
Whipped Wedding Woes(Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Eight)
A Sprinkle of Tropical Trouble(Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Nine)
A Drizzle of Deception(Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Ten)
Sweet Home Mystery Series
Creamed at the Coffee Cabana (Sweet Home Mystery Series Book One)
A Caffeinated Crunch (Sweet Home Mystery Series Book Two)
A Frothy Fiasco (Sweet Home Mystery Series Book Three)
Punked by the Pumpkin(Sweet Home Mystery Series Book Four)
Peppermint Pandemonium(Sweet Home Mystery Series Book Five)
Expresso Messo(Sweet Home Mystery Series Book Six)
Whispering Pines Mystery Series
A Sinister Slice of Murder (Whispering Pines Mystery Series Book One)
Sanctum of Shadows (Whispering Pines Mystery Series Book Two)
Curse of the Bloodstone Arrow (Whispering Pines Mystery Series Book Three)
Mad River Mystery Series
A Wicked Whack
A Prickly Predicament
Eden Patterson: Ghost Whisper Series
The Mystery of the Courthouse Calamity
The Mystery of the Screaming Elms
The Mystery of the Morbid Moans (Eden Patterson: Ghost Whisperer Book Three 3) Page 5