by Eva Pohler
At some point in the middle of the night, Ellen couldn’t take it anymore. Between Sue’s snoring and the infomercial blasting from the television, along with the fear that any time she’d move she’d awaken the others, Ellen was too anxious to sleep. Deciding to take her chances with the shadow man, she picked up her pillow and went to the couch. As she settled into the cushions, without bothering to open the sleeper sofa, she began to worry that she should have closed the circle of protection. What if her friends were attacked all because of her?
Just because you don’t believe it doesn’t mean it isn’t true.
She returned to the other room and found her copy of the words on the night table by her side of the bed. Could she close the circle while remaining on the outside? She wasn’t sure. Was she being selfish in breaking it after all the trouble Sue had gone to in protecting them?
Tears pricked her eyes. All she wanted was some damn sleep.
She decided to stand on the outside of the circle and use her finger like a wand to close the circle as she whispered the words:
Guardians of the North, South, East, and West,
Elements of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water,
Bless this circle and protect those within,
Whether father, mother, son, or daughter.
No unwanted entities shall enter,
And safety shall prevail in the center.
This circle is cast.
Grant it shall last.
Tanya sat up. “I’ve got to pee.”
Ellen sighed as she returned the paper with the words back to the night table and then went back to the couch to sleep. She had just finally drifted off when Tanya touched her shoulder and woke her.
“What are you doing out here?” Tanya asked.
“Trying to get some sleep. I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Good night.”
Ellen closed her eyes. As she tried once more to drift off into sleep, she heard Tanya muttering the words to close the circle.
Sometime near dawn, Ellen was awakened by Sue’s shout.
“I saw him!” she yelled.
Ellen jumped from the couch and turned on the lights in the room where Tanya and Sue had been sleeping.
“He was standing at the foot of the bed,” Sue said, pointing at the end of Tanya’s side. “I saw him clear as day. He vanished as soon as I saw him.”
“He didn’t break the circle, did he?” Ellen asked.
“I don’t think so,” Sue said.
“Did you see him, Tanya?”
Tanya shook her head and then pulled the covers over her. “I need another hour or two of sleep.”
“Try to go back to sleep, Sue,” Ellen said. “He hasn’t tried to hurt us. Maybe he’s just trying to tell us something.”
Ellen went back to the couch, but she didn’t fall asleep. She kept opening her eyes and scanning the room for signs of the shadow man.
Later in the morning before breakfast, Ellen used her laptop to track down the anthropologist who had helped Don Ross search for the unmarked mass graves back in 1998. She found him listed on the University of Oklahoma website.
“Oh, no,” she said to her friends, who were still getting dressed. “It says here that after thirty years with the Oklahoma Archaeological Survey, he’s retired.”
“Maybe he’d still be willing to work with us,” Sue said as she melted her eyeliner with her lighter and finished making up her face.
“It says he’s still working part-time as an anthropology professor,” Ellen said. “Maybe we can make an appointment to see him at his office on campus.”
“OU is in Norman,” Sue said. “Email him and ask if we can meet with him on Thursday, since Norman is right by Oklahoma City, where we get on the train.”
Ellen found his email and began to compose a message. Then she read it to her friends for approval.
“That sounds good,” Tanya said. “Send it and hope for the best.”
Ellen didn’t hear from Carrie French until late in the afternoon, when Carrie texted to say that they’d all just woke up after a night of research on site and were going back to her place to review the footage, if Ellen and her friends wanted to join them.
Aside from the dowsing rods pointing to the ground north of the building and the sketches created by Miss Myrtle, the most interesting piece of evidence continued to be the appearance of the shadow man beside Tanya. The dark figure moved its arms maniacally whenever Carrie asked questions about the location of the riot victims and their bodies.
Feeling that the property must have the answer to a nearly century-old mystery, Ellen and her friends made the decision that afternoon to move forward with closing on the purchase. All three of their husbands were wary, but the ladies convinced them over the phone to support them.
Paul suggested that they could save themselves another trip by requesting that the closing be moved up. Ellen was pleasantly surprised when Gayle called back with the good news that the agents and title company could accommodate the change. They would meet tomorrow morning—on Wednesday.
With nothing planned for Tuesday night, Sue convinced Ellen and Tanya to use the Ouija Board to try and speak with the shadow man.
“We spent seventeen bucks on it,” Sue argued. “We may as well get some use out of it. I say we order room service and hang out here and see if we can find out just who this shadow man really is.”
They ordered turkey paninis, and, while they waited for the food to arrive, they crowded around the Ouija Board. As before, Tanya sat crossed-legged (yoga style) on the edge of the king-size bed facing Sue and Ellen, who sat in the armchair and desk chair respectively. The board lay across Tanya’s lap, and they each touched their fingertips lightly to the plastic indicator.
As soon as they were ready, Sue said, “We’re hoping to speak with the shadow man that followed us from the property near Cain’s Ballroom. Shadow man, are you here?”
Without hesitation, the planchette practically flew to Yes.
They glanced at one another nervously. Ellen was excited and frightened, but mostly curious.
“What is your name, shadow man?” Sue asked.
Immediately, the planchette spelled out: V-A-N-H-U-R-L-E-Y.
“Vanhurley?” Tanya muttered.
“I think it’s a first and last name,” Ellen said. “Van Hurley. Why does that name sound familiar?”
Without having addressed the shadow man, Ellen flinched when the indicator began to move again. It spelled out: 1-9-2-1.
“Were you alive in 1921?” Sue asked.
The planchette moved to Yes.
Then it circled around and spelled out: T-U-L-S-A-P-O-L-I-C-E.
Ellen’s heart started beating very rapidly. “Do you think this means Van Hurley was a member of the Tulsa police force in 1921?”
She’d been addressing her friends, but the planchette moved to Yes.
Ellen’s eyes widened with astonishment. She glanced at each of her friends, seeing their expressions mirrored her own. They were communicating with a spirit who’d been alive during the race riot.
“Do you have a message for us, Van Hurley?” Sue asked.
Ellen held her breath as the planchette glided across the board beneath her fingertips. It spelled out: P-A-T-T-Y-C-O-L-E.
“Who’s Patty Cole?” Sue asked.
Swiftly, the plastic indicator spelled out: G-R-A-N-D-D-A-U-G-H-T-E-R.
“Patty Cole is your granddaughter?” Ellen asked.
The planchette moved to Yes.
“Is she still alive?” Sue asked.
The planchette circled around and returned to Yes.
“Do you want us to give her a message?” Ellen asked.
The planchette moved to No.
“No?” Tanya muttered. “That’s odd. Why would he say no?”
The indicator circled around and spelled out: M-Y-P-E-R-S-O-N-A-L-E-F-F-E-C-T-S.
“Your granddaughter has your personal effects?” Sue
asked, excitedly.
The indicator moved to Yes.
“But why would he tell us this?” Tanya whispered. “Does he want us to look through his personal effects?”
The indicator circled the board and returned to Yes.
“Do you know where we can find Patty Cole?” Sue asked.
The planchette circled the board again and returned to Yes. Then it spelled out: 1-1-4-E-L-M-T-O-P-E-K-A-K-A-N-S-A-S.
“He wants us to go to Topeka?” Ellen whispered.
The indicator moved to Yes.
“Oh my gawd,” Sue said. “There must be something in his personal effects that he wants us to see.”
The planchette circled around and returned to Yes again and again, so rapidly, that after five revolutions across the board, it flew across the room and landed on the carpet near the balcony.
“I think we should go to Topeka as soon as possible,” Tanya said.
Ellen couldn’t help but smile back at her friends. A jolt of excitement traveled down her back. This was exactly the kind of adventure she’d been hoping for.
Chapter Eighteen: Road Trip
Although Sue and Tanya slept on the king-size bed with another circle of protection surrounding them, Ellen got a goodnight’s sleep on the sofa sleeper in the front room. Now that she knew Van Hurley was the shadow man and that he’d been a police officer, she was no longer frightened by his presence. In fact, she had a feeling he’d been watching over them, just like Vivian had.
As excited as Ellen was to track down Patty Cole in Topeka, she was first and foremost overjoyed when she opened her email and found a reply from Dr. Robert Brooks, the anthropologist at OU. In his reply, he wrote:
Hi, Ellen,
I am, indeed, the anthropologist who led the search for mass graves in Tulsa between 1998 and 2000. I would be happy to meet with you on Thursday. Would 2 p.m. work for you?
Best,
Bob Brooks
Ellen read the message to her friends.
“Let him know that works for us,” Tanya said. “That’s actually perfect.”
“Then when are we driving up to Topeka to look for Patty Cole?” Sue asked.
“How about today after we close?” Ellen suggested. “According to Google, it’s a four-hour drive. We could stay in Topeka tonight and then drive straight to Norman in the morning to visit Bob Brooks.”
“What if we drive all the way up there, and then she won’t talk to us?” Tanya asked. “Shouldn’t we call her first?”
“I don’t think so,” Sue said. “It would make me pretty suspicious if someone called up asking to see my late grandfather’s personal effects.”
Ellen hadn’t thought this all the way through. “You both make good points. What should we do?”
“I think we’re better off showing up and winning her over with our sparkling smiles and impressive personalities,” Sue said.
Ellen laughed.
“I’d hate to go all that way only to discover she wasn’t at home,” Tanya said. “Isn’t there some way we can confirm that she’ll be there?”
“Maybe Van Hurley can help,” Sue said with a twinkle in her eye. “Fetch me that Ouija Board.”
They had less than an hour before they needed to meet Gayle at the real estate agency, but they all three sat around the board with their fingertips on the plastic indicator, hoping to speak with Van Hurley.
“Van Hurley, are you there?” Sue asked.
The planchette did not move.
Sue asked three more times, but nothing happened.
“He must not be here,” Tanya said.
“So, now what?” Ellen asked.
“We have to take a chance and make that drive,” Sue said. “What choice do we have?”
If Ellen thought the train ride felt long, driving four hours with Sue and Tanya seemed interminable. Tanya had to stop to pee every thirty minutes, and Sue wanted to run through a drive thru at least once every hour for snacks and drinks.
By the time they had pulled up to the curb in front of 114 Elm, they still weren’t sure what they were going to say if they got lucky and Patty Cole answered her door.
The house was a two-story craftsman-style bungalow—green with white trim and columns with red brick on the bottom. Three round shrubs lined the front porch, where a white swing hung in the corner. Steps up to the porch led from the driveway. On the side of the house, they could see a window near the ground in what must be a basement. At the end of the driveway was a detached garage.
As they stood at the bottom of the steps, Tanya asked, “So what’s the plan?”
“Let’s just tell her the truth,” Ellen said. “Maybe Van Hurley will help us.”
“What if she’s not at home?” Tanya pointed out.
“Then we’ll find a way inside,” Sue said with determination.
Before they’d made it up the stairs to the front door, a very thin woman about their own age with round glasses and white blonde hair dashed from the door and said, “It’s about time! I’m ten minutes late for my dental appointment. I left a check in an envelope on the kitchen bar. Don’t forget to lock up when you’re finished. I have a hair appointment afterward and probably won’t make it back before then.”
The woman said all of this as she was hastily skipping down the stairs past them and heading to the keypad on her garage door. Ellen stood on the steps staring blankly at the woman.
“Should we tell her she’s mistaken us for someone else?” Tanya mumbled.
“No way,” Sue said. “For all we know, Van Hurley went to a lot of trouble to make this happen. Just smile and wave.”
As the homeowner drove away in her shiny black Lexus, Sue led the way into the house.
“What if she’s not even Patty Cole?” Tanya whispered.
Sue pointed to a stack of mail on a console in the foyer. The envelopes were addressed to Patricia Cole.
“And what are we going to do when the real people she’s expecting show up?” Tanya asked.
Ellen went through the living room to the kitchen bar, where she found an envelope addressed to Merry Maids.
“She thinks we’re here to clean her house,” Ellen said.
“If the real help shows up,” Sue said, “we’ll just pretend to be Patty’s cousins from out of town. Now come on, you scaredy cats. Help me look for Van Hurley’s personal effects.”
They combed the first floor—a living room, study, kitchen, and master bedroom—and found nothing that looked like it might have once belonged to Patty’s grandfather.
“I wish I knew what we were looking for,” Ellen mumbled.
They all three froze when a clicking sound came from the fireplace.
“What the heck was that?” Sue asked.
“Now who’s the scaredy cat?” Tanya whispered.
“It’s just the wind.” Ellen sounded more confident than she felt. “And I have a feeling we should be looking in either the attic or the basement. I bet what we’re looking for isn’t something you would display in your house, but would store, like in a box.”
Sue and Tanya exchanged quizzical looks.
“What?” Ellen asked.
“And what exactly gives you that feeling?” Sue wanted to know.
Ellen shrugged. “It seems logical to me.”
“I just seems awfully suspicious that we hear a spirit enter through the fireplace and then you get a feeling about where to look and what to look for,” Sue explained.
Ellen rolled her eyes. “Let’s start with the basement.”
“Is that the spirit talking?” Tanya teased.
Sue found the basement stairs behind a door near the kitchen. She pulled a chain over them to cast light on the otherwise dark and eerie space below. The stairs moaned beneath their weight as they made their way to the bottom, which was a bare concrete slab full of cracks, where moisture seeped in. The beams, joints, pipes, and electrical wiring were exposed and full of cobwebs. A little light came in through one window, but the basement was mo
stly dark and musty until Tanya found another light switch.
“That’s better,” Sue said.
Ellen wasn’t so sure she agreed. The light only made more visible the moisture, bugs, cobwebs, and clutter contaminating the room.
“Are you getting anymore feelings, Ellen?” Sue asked.
Ellen sighed as she glanced at the cardboard boxes that were haphazardly discarded on the floor and on an old wooden table. “I wish. Van Hurley’s personal effects could be anywhere in these boxes.”
“So we better get looking,” Tanya said, opening one of them.
They used the torch app on their phones to help them rifle through the contents of the old, dusty boxes. Ellen found mostly old clothes that should have been donated to Goodwill, in her opinion. Another box contained a bunch of tattered paperbacks. And in another, she found some porcelain figurines and vases wrapped in newspaper. Ellen was beginning to believe that these boxes had at one time been meant to be donated, and Patty never got around to it.
“Here’s something interesting,” Tanya said. “It’s a nice wooden box with a bunch of papers inside.”
Sue and Ellen looked over Tanya’s shoulder.
“What kind of papers?” Sue asked.
“Old,” Tanya whispered. “I think this must be it. It’s an affidavit from October, 1921.”
They all three leaned over the paper.
“It’s Van Hurley’s testimony,” Ellen whispered.
“Oh my gawd,” Sue whispered. “City officials of Tulsa planned and carried out an aerial attack on Greenwood.”
“It wasn’t a spontaneous riot.” Ellen’s jaw dropped open.
Tanya’s eyes were wide. “It was a planned massacre.”
“There must be at least thirty pages here of Van Hurley’s sworn testimony,” Sue said, skimming through the old, yellowed papers.
“Let’s take them and go,” Ellen said.
Ellen recalled the moral crisis she’d experienced last Christmas eve, when she’d stolen a can of cranberry sauce from the supermarket. That had been such a soul-searching dilemma, so why was she ready to take these important legal papers without so much as a slight hesitation?