Raven's Rest

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by Stephen Osborne


  “I’ll drive around, see if I can find anyone lurking about. You call us if you have any further problems, Mr. Cook.”

  “I will. I can promise you that.” My heart had only just stopped threatening to burst through my chest. I gave the deputy a salute of farewell and resumed my trek to my room.

  “Why,” I muttered to myself as soon as I was out of earshot of Hughes, “didn’t you take Trey up on his offer to stay with him? You could be in his arms right now, rather than shaking from fear.”

  Erin Hughes got back into her car, and moments later she sped off down the road. I doubted she’d find a trace of my stalker. I knew, though, it wasn’t any teenager. No, someone had been following me, and their intent had been malicious.

  But who had it been? And why?

  Chapter NINE

  “THIS IS it,” Trey said.

  I didn’t know what I had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a little white cottage surrounded by a picket fence. Somehow I’d expected Jesenia Maupin to live in something more esoteric, strange. Not a fairy-tale witch’s hovel, but at least something with some history to it, like a mock Tudor home or a Victorian folly. The place Trey indicated was just so… average.

  Maybe when you rang the doorbell, the theme from The Addams Family rang through the tiny house. That would suit the woman and her vibe.

  I opened the gate and held it for Trey. “After you,” I said.

  “Oh no. This is your idea. You lead the way.”

  As we went up the short walk, it occurred to me that Jesenia hadn’t even decorated for Halloween. No orange lights, no ghosts hanging from the branches of her trees. There wasn’t even a pumpkin to greet us on the porch.

  “You sure you want to do this?” Trey asked.

  I was. When I had returned to my room at the Raven’s Rest after my ordeal of being followed, I’d found nothing waiting for me. The room had been eerily quiet. More than that, though, I had the distinct feeling that I was being snubbed, that the spirit was pissed at me and was refusing to come around.

  Probably I was reading too much into the situation. Didn’t they say that ghosts required energy to manifest themselves? And it must have taken a hell of a lot of energy to shatter light bulbs and rake ghostly fingernails across Trey’s cheek. Surely the spirit of Coleman Hollis was just out of power and was recuperating. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had, in some way, disappointed the spirit.

  I needed to talk to him. Soon. Find out what he wanted. And my best bet for doing that was Jesenia Maupin.

  She answered the door wearing a bright blue tunic and black slacks. Her button wasn’t affixed to her breast, which I found oddly disappointing. As she held the door open for us, she said, “I’ve been expecting you.”

  She took us to a room she called her parlor, which was quaint and decorated with loads of little knickknacks everywhere, most of which were frogs. “I like frogs,” she explained when she saw Trey gaping at her collection. “Sit. What can I do for you boys?”

  Trey perched himself on the edge of an uncomfortable-looking settee. I sat on a wicker chair that creaked under my weight but held me. I glanced at Trey for support, but he was staring at a huge green ceramic frog that was eyeing him from the coffee table. Sighing, I asked Jesenia, “Can you do a séance?”

  “Of course I can ‘do a séance.’” She mimicked my phrasing. “The question is, should I do one?”

  “I think so. Coleman Hollis is trying to tell me something. He’s tried to tell people before, and he’s never succeeded. There’s something he wants us to know, and we just aren’t listening. Not in the right ways, I guess.”

  Jesenia scooped up a cat that had been snoozing on a pillow on her sofa. The animal barely woke up and seemed untroubled by the disturbance. Sitting, Jesenia placed the cat on her lap, and the feline immediately resumed its slumber. She stroked the cat’s back and said, “Are you prepared for the consequences?”

  “Consequences?”

  “It’s always been assumed that Coleman Hollis ran off, that he left town all those years ago. If you prove that his spirit haunts the Raven’s Rest… well, people in town still remember him. His father still lives here. You’ll be dredging up a nasty can of worms.”

  “Wouldn’t his father want to know what happened? I think it would provide some closure.”

  Jesenia nodded. “I agree. Always best to know. I just wanted you to know that there may be repercussions.” The cat shifted positions so Jesenia could rub its tummy. “But I feel that, to be truly effective, the séance should be held at the Raven’s Rest. Preferably in your room, since that’s where the manifestations seem to be concentrated.” She glanced at Trey’s cheek, still red and sore-looking. “Did you get that at the inn?”

  Trey touched the wound. “Yeah. I think we made old Cole a little jealous.”

  “I think you should be there.”

  “I… I really don’t think so.” Trey’s eyes were wide. “He doesn’t like me. That’s obvious. Let’s not give him the chance to gouge the other cheek or do something worse.”

  Jesenia frowned. “He’s confused. From what you told me on the phone, Michael here resembles his lover. This will be a good opportunity to straighten things out. Let him know that you’re no threat.”

  “I’d say he’s the one doing the threatening.” I could see Trey was relenting a little, though. Finally he sighed. “I’ll be there. Dammit, tonight’s Halloween. I’d planned on just sitting at home—hopefully cuddling with a certain someone—and watching The Wolf Man.”

  “We’ll start the séance at midnight,” Jesenia said cheerily. “That’ll give you time to get your movie in. It’s short, if I remember correctly.” She clapped her hands and grinned at us. “So! Midnight it is, then!”

  The cat raised its head and looked disgruntled about the noise she was making.

  TRICK-OR-TREATING WAS, according to the newspaper, to be held between four and seven o’clock, after which there was a “costume parade” and party at the town’s community center. It wasn’t quite four, but already some little ghosts and goblins and superheroes were trickling into the Raven’s Rest on their rounds to collect candy. Lonnie Schultz, dressed as a devil (complete with red cape), was manning the desk, and he had a huge bowl of candy waiting for them.

  “Wow. That’s a really good Batman. And who are you? A princess? You’re so pretty, Your Majesty! Here you go!”

  The kids, giggling, ran out of the inn, on to their next stop. Lonnie couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. He was obviously enjoying his role of candy distributor.

  “Hey, Mr. Cook—”

  “Michael.”

  “Mike. How are things? Still staying through the weekend?”

  “I plan on it. Maybe longer. I have yet to buy furniture, and I really don’t want to start living in a totally empty apartment. How’s business?”

  “Good. Especially for this time of year. We have several new people checked in, so if you see someone new in the halls, it’s probably a real person, not a ghost.” He laughed at his own joke.

  “Is there someone in the Raven Suite? I heard noises coming from there this morning as I walked past.”

  “Yeah, a guy who checked in last night. I hope he didn’t disturb you. But hey, after the lightbulb incident, I’m guessing not much really disturbs you.”

  I had, of course, confided in Lonnie first thing when I’d come downstairs in the morning. Well, someone had to replace the bulbs, and I didn’t want the staff to think I was some weird guy who went around destroying lighting sources. Lonnie, who seemed to never be off work, had personally come up with fresh bulbs, his mouth hanging open in awe as he examined the damaged lamps.

  “No, he didn’t bother me at all. I just wondered,” I said. I’d known, somehow, that the sounds coming from the Raven Suite were from a living, breathing human. They hadn’t raised goose bumps or made the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. “About the lightbulbs….”

  “Oh, hey. No worries. These
things happen.” Lonnie frowned. “Well, actually, nothing like that has happened before. We’ve had guests see things, been touched, felt suddenly cold, but exploding lights is a new one.”

  “I know I told you not to tell anyone about it….”

  “And I didn’t! It’s just between you and me, Mr. Cook!”

  “The thing is,” I said, with what I hoped was an ingratiating smile, “I really believe Coleman Hollis is trying to tell me something. I just can’t figure out what it is. So I’ve enlisted the aid of Jesenia Maupin—”

  “The witch?”

  Lonnie looked immediately sorry that he’d blurted out the words, so I merely carried on. “And I want her to conduct a séance. In my room here.”

  Lonnie took a deep breath. “A séance? That’s… heavy stuff.”

  “How do you think your mother will react? I could just sneak Jesenia up to my room, but I feel like I should tell your mom what we’re doing. After all, it’s her place.”

  With a sheepish grin, Lonnie leaned over the counter to speak to me in a conspiratorial manner. “Actually, Mr. Cook, I did tell her about the lightbulb thing. Well, you see, she was talking this afternoon about how—”

  We were interrupted as another group of trick-or-treaters arrived. The mother hung back while a tiny witch, a skeleton, and a vaguely disturbing Wonder Woman (did a five-year-old really need to be wearing boots with high heels?) grabbed some candy for their pumpkins. Satisfied, they quickly exited and Lonnie went on.

  “Anyway, she was saying how we hadn’t had anything spooky happen for some time now, and I told her how wrong she was. You know, sort of rubbing her face in it. I didn’t mention you by name, just said it happened in one of the rooms, but she figured out who it was. Well, we really don’t have too many people staying here right now, and she knew it wouldn’t be the Clark family, because they’ve got little kids, and—”

  “It’s okay, Lonnie. I don’t mind that you told her. It’ll make it easier to talk to her about my proposal. Do you know where she is right now?”

  Lonnie rubbed his chin. “She’ll be in the dining room, most likely. I don’t know if she’s going to be so hot on the idea of a séance, though. She doesn’t want to scare people away from staying here, you know.”

  “No one need know about it other than just us. I’ll see what she says. I’m sure I can convince her.”

  The truth was, I really hadn’t talked much with Lonnie’s mother. She’d manned the front desk only a few times during my stay, and other than saying hi and bye, we’d hardly exchanged words. In a way I found her slightly intimidating. She always seemed friendly enough, but she didn’t possess Lonnie’s exuberant nature. A big woman, it always seemed like the smile could easily leave her face and you’d be left with a woman you really didn’t want to mess with.

  And I was about to spring one hell of a suggestion on her.

  Betty Schultz was, indeed, in the dining room, chatting with one of her workers. When I entered, her serious expression was replaced with a welcoming grin, although I did see her steal a glance at the wall clock.

  “Mr. Cook! How nice to see you! It’s a little early for dinner, but I’m sure we can—”

  “Actually, I just wanted to have a word with you, if I may.”

  The employee was dismissed, and Mrs. Schultz gave me her undivided attention. “I guess you’ve heard about the lightbulb thing—”

  I didn’t actually get the last word entirely out before Mrs. Schultz held up her hands. “Mr. Cook, I can assure you that the whole thing can be easily explained. I know it’s easy to go right to the ghost explanation, but a sudden power surge can cause quite a lot of havoc. Naturally, if you want to move to another room—”

  Power surge. How stupid did she think I was? Still, I’m sure she was only trying to put a positive spin on the event. “Actually,” I said, “I want to hold a séance. With your permission.”

  She froze. “A séance?”

  “You know, sitting around a table, holding hands. ‘Anyone out there want to talk to anyone in here.’ That sort of thing.”

  A frown furrowed her brow. “I know what a séance is, Mr. Cook. I’ve seen the movies. I just don’t think we need one.”

  “I respectfully disagree. Coleman Hollis is trying to tell us something, and I want to know what it is. I think the best way to communicate with him is through a séance. Jesenia Maupin can act as the medium. I—”

  “Jesenia Maupin!”

  Why did everyone act like she was a laughable lunatic? Well, other than the fact that Jesenia presented herself as a laughable lunatic….

  It took a good ten minutes, but I finally persuaded Betty Schultz to agree to a séance. I had to go through every ghostly incident that had happened to me in detail, and even threw in what I’d heard from Gloria Ramsey, but eventually Lonnie’s mother relented. She did, however, have several stipulations.

  “I don’t want this to get around. Certainly not into the newspapers.”

  “No problem.”

  “And I want to be there.”

  That made me blink. “Sure. Of course.” I figured she wanted to make sure things didn’t get out of hand, but then she explained.

  “I’ve always loved the history of this house. It’s part of the reason I bought the place. So if there’s a chance I’ll get to talk to someone who lived here in the past, before it was turned into an inn, I want to be there.”

  I nodded. “Jesenia thinks midnight would be a good time.”

  “I’ll be there, Mr. Cook.”

  Chapter TEN

  “I’M CREEPED out, and we haven’t even started yet,” Trey said.

  “Can’t imagine why,” I muttered, loud enough for him to hear. We were in the Ulalume Suite with Jesenia, waiting for Betty Schultz to join us. She promised that, although she had some business to attend to, she’d make it well before the clock struck midnight.

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” Jesenia assured Trey. “The spirits in this place have retreated. I think they’re a little nervous around me. They haven’t quite figured me out yet. Once I’ve reassured them, we’ll get some answers.”

  There was a brisk knock at the door, and I let Mrs. Schultz in. For once, her forbidding countenance was replaced with a trace of nervousness. As she walked in, she gazed about the room.

  “I was half expecting to find the furniture all upside down and covered with ectoplasm, or whatever they call that shit. You know, Ghostbusters slime.”

  “Ectoplasm is real, but it isn’t green like it was in the film.” Jesenia was busy getting the little round table set up, placing four chairs around it. She’d already placed a candle in a stick in the center. “Michael dear, would you close those curtains? I’m afraid the moon is a bit too bright tonight.”

  Trey was closer, and he seemed to need something to do, so he adjusted the blinds and drapes. “Are we going to see a ghost?” he asked.

  “Hopefully, darling.” Obviously satisfied with the table, Jesenia looked around the room critically. “The fire is okay, but can you adjust it a little, Michael? A little less flame?”

  I got the gas flame to her liking, and Jesenia nodded. “I think we’re ready now. Betty, I’m really glad you’re joining us. I haven’t seen you since the Petunia Festival.”

  Mrs. Schultz didn’t seem inclined to reminisce. “How long is this going to take? I have to get up early and help see to breakfast.”

  Jesenia sat and did a one-shoulder shrug. “It takes as long as it takes. Since Michael already seems to have an affinity with the spirits here, I’d wager that things could heat up rather quickly, but I’m not making any promises. Trey darling, would you get the lights? And would everyone be seated.”

  Mrs. Schultz started to sit down opposite Jesenia, but Trey quickly moved from the light switch and ushered her into the chair on Jesenia’s left. I think he wanted to make sure we’d be sitting next to each other. That was okay with me. I assumed we’d be holding hands or at least touching them togeth
er like they did in the movies, and I could use his support. My heart was beating fast, and I was already finding it hard to breathe, and so far the scariest thing the evening had provided had been a ten-year-old trick-or-treating as the alien from Predator. Anticipating something frightening could almost be worse than the frightening thing itself.

  Jesenia placed her hands flat on the table. “Please make sure that your fingers are touching the person’s next to you. The circle must not be broken once we’ve established contact.”

  “Shit,” Trey muttered. “I’ve got to pee.”

  “This isn’t a time for jest,” Jesenia warned him with a frown.

  “No, I’m serious. I’ve got to pee.”

  We paused while Trey went to the bathroom to relieve himself. Once he’d resumed his seat, I smiled at him. “Told you to go before we started.”

  “Shut up.”

  Once everyone was back in position, Jesenia closed her eyes. Her face looked odd, lit only by the candle and the little flame she’d allowed in the fireplace. Serene, but eerily pale and unnatural, as if she were made of wax. “We wish to communicate with the spirits who live within the walls of the Raven’s Rest. We wish to speak with Coleman Hollis. Coleman, are you there?”

  Nothing happened, and I heard Trey breathe a sigh of relief.

  “You mustn’t be afraid. We’re not here to hurt you. We make no demands of you. We only wish to talk with you.”

  The candle flame guttered slightly, but that might have been from a draft. I didn’t know how a closed room with no air-conditioning or heating on could have a draft, but I preferred that explanation. My uneasiness amused me a little. I wanted to learn what Coleman had to say, but the séance was making me jumpy, and the butterflies in my stomach were giving me the willies. It was like getting on a roller coaster. You wanted the thrill, but that didn’t stop you from wondering, just as you got at the top of the hill, if you hadn’t make a horrible mistake in judgment.

  “Coleman,” Jesenia went on, “Michael here has felt your presence. He’s heard you speak before. Speak to us now, Coleman. Tell us why you’re not at rest!”

 

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