“You went to the corn maze in pajamas,” my mom pointed out.
“That wasn’t planned,” I countered.
“These aren’t technically pajamas,” Twila argued. “Just because we lounge around in them, that doesn’t mean they’re pajamas. They’re meant to be worn in public. The models were wearing them outdoors in the catalog.”
Thistle nudged my elbow. “It’s not worth arguing about. We’re probably lucky that they’re not dressed like Army men – or carrying swords, or something.” Or brooms and wands.
She had a point.
Marnie was looking at Clove intently. “What’s all over your faces?” She reached a hand up to touch the paint on Clove’s face.
“It’s just some makeup to camouflage our faces,” Clove said, slapping her hand away indignantly. “We’re all really white – I mean really white -- and that stands out in the dark.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Twila enthused. “I want some.”
Thistle sighed and pulled the tin of paint out of her bag. “How did I know you’d say that?”
“Where’s Aunt Tillie?” Please say she went to bed early. Please say she went to bed early.
“She’s still getting ready,” my mom answered. She didn’t even bother looking up at me. She, Twila and Marnie were having too much fun with the face paint to even register the long-suffering looks that Thistle, Clove and I were sharing. That was probably a good thing.
Clove picked up a cookie off the plate sitting on the little end table next to Aunt Tillie’s chair. She’s a stress eater. Actually, we all are. Thistle and I were munching on cookies before we even realized what was happening.
My mom finally noticed what we were doing – and she was frowning at us.
“What?”
“You shouldn’t be eating heavy foods now,” she chastised us. “It will just slow you down.”
No, what was going to slow us down was them.
“Don’t say it,” Thistle warned under her breath. “We can’t afford a big fight now and if you say it, we’re going to have a huge blowup.”
“Alright, let’s go!”
We all turned to see Aunt Tillie standing in the door impatiently. As usual, her entrance was designed for the maximum amount of drama that was sustainable for the current situation.
Clove giggled madly when she saw Aunt Tillie’s outfit.
Since she was so short, Aunt Tillie usually had to have her pants professionally altered so they would fit her. I had no idea where she had managed to find what looked to be black parachute pants in her size. Maybe they were Corey Feldman’s castoffs?
She had thrown a black sweatshirt on, as well, and she was wearing military combat boots. The best part of the outfit, though, was the combat helmet she had secured on her head – complete with a strap under her chin.
“Where did you get that hat?” Thistle asked.
“Forget the hat, where did you get those pants?”
Aunt Tillie didn’t look like she was enjoying our mutant mixture of horror and merriment. “I’m prepared for all occasions, at all times. When are you going to realize that?”
“But what other occasion did you need a hard hat for?” Thistle couldn’t stop staring at the hat. I found it a lot less objectionable than the pants, which made a shuffling sound every time she moved.
“In case it gets hairy out there, I want to protect my head,” she said blithely.
“But why do you have it?” Thistle wasn’t going to be deterred.
“Maybe I just like it.”
I had a feeling Aunt Tillie might have been indulging in the family pot a little more than anyone realized.
“Where did you get it from?” I asked finally. It was a rational question for an irrational woman.
“I found it in a catalog when that Army supply guy stayed here a few months ago,” she sniffed.
Ah, that explained it. Aunt Tillie had never met a catalog that she couldn’t find something to buy in. We still had a closet full of mousetraps, and no mice.
“You can never be too prepared, you know,” she continued. “And now I’m ready in case we have a nuclear war.”
“The hat is going to save you from a nuclear war?” Thistle was still dumbfounded.
“No,” Aunt Tillie said derisively “The underground bunker that’s being built in the spring is going to save me from that. The helmet is just for when the roof caves in on us. When everyone else has a concussion, I’m going to be the only one with my mental faculties still intact.”
Oh, well, at least she’d thought it out.
Marnie handed Aunt Tillie the canister of face paint. “So your face doesn’t stand out in the dark.”
Aunt Tillie waved the canister off. “My face stands out regardless. Paint isn’t going to change that.”
Isn’t that the truth?
“Besides,” she added. “I don’t trust anyone that hides behind that much makeup. That’s what strippers and prostitutes do.”
Whatever.
We all agreed that the only vehicle we were all going to be able to fit in was Marnie’s Range Rover. Thistle got behind the wheel and Aunt Tillie got in the passenger seat. My mom, Marnie and Twila got in the backseat, which meant Clove and I had to sit in the cargo area in the back.
“This is ridiculous,” I grumbled when Thistle hit a big dip in the road and we bounced up and almost crashed our heads into the roof of the vehicle.
“I think it’s fun,” my mom giggled.
“You would,” I muttered.
“What did you say, dear? I can’t hear you mumble insults when the radio is up so loud.”
Despite the fact that it would have been more pragmatic to park farther away from the maze, there was no way we could do that with Aunt Tillie in tow. She’s spry for eighty-five – but she’s still eighty-five.
When we were all outside of the vehicle and checking to make sure we had all of the supplies that we would need in a duffel bag, Thistle couldn’t help but complain. “We’re going to get caught.”
“Probably,” I agreed.
“People in town are going to think we’re even weirder than we are,” Clove said.
“Oh, what, seven women sneaking into a corn maze at night is suspicious? Three dressed in black, three dressed in velvet track suits and one dressed in riot gear – that’s not suspicious at all.”
“Sarcasm is never your friend.” I wasn’t sure if my mom or Twila let loose that little pearl of wisdom, but it was a regular refrain in the Winchester house.
“Can we just get this over with?” If we were going to jail tonight, we might as well get the ball rolling. I could use a good night’s sleep – even if it was on a stiff jailhouse cot.
Thistle and I took the lead. Clove wasn’t happy about bringing up the rear by herself – but she admitted she would much rather be behind everyone else than in front of them. She still remembered our first nighttime trek into the maze – and she wasn’t eager for a repeat. We all hated to admit it, but we felt a little better with Aunt Tillie there. She was far scarier than any murderer – or murderers, in this case.
“Where are Shane and Sophie?”
“They’re probably waiting in the center of the maze. We told them we would be out here as soon as possible – but it took a little longer than any of us thought. They probably got bored waiting.”
By this point, Thistle and I could have maneuvered out way through the maze in the dark – which was a pretty good thing since the only person we allowed to have a small flashlight was Aunt Tillie.
It took us a little longer than we expected, mostly because Aunt Tillie had decided to be as disagreeable as she could possibly be during the walk.
“I don’t understand the point of a corn maze.”
“It’s just fun for families,” I answered her testily.
“They why do they have hay bales?”
“I don’t know. Ambiance?”
“How is hay ambiance?”
“You use hay when you�
��re decorating for Thanksgiving up at the inn,” I countered. She was just trying to be a pain.
“That’s cute.”
“Maybe they think this is cute,” Clove offered.
“Somebody should tell them that they’re wrong,” Aunt Tillie said.
“Why don’t you call them and tell them that tomorrow – if we’re not in jail, that is,” Thistle suggested.
“That’s a good idea.”
Sarcasm is truly lost on Aunt Tillie. Still, it might be fun for her to irritate other people in town for a while. Her family deserved a respite – however brief it might be.
I think we were all relieved when we made it to the center of the maze. Thistle dropped the duffel bag on the ground haphazardly and immediately started pulling things out of it. She handed Clove the candles and instructed her to light them in a circle.
My mom and the aunts were busy looking around the clearing. “This isn’t very festive,” my mom said finally.
“It was meant to be scary,” I said. “But they took all the scarecrows out when Shane’s body was found.”
I looked around the clearing. At first I didn’t see them, but then Shane and Sophie solidified in front of my eyes. “That’s a neat trick,” I told them.
“We’ve been practicing,” Sophie said proudly.
“What’s all that stuff?” Shane was watching Thistle rummage through the bag with genuine interest.
“It’s for a ritual,” I told him.
“To make us remember?”
“Not exactly. We think, maybe because you guys were drugged, that your memories are always going to be blurry. You might not have intact memories – and we can’t wait any longer. We have to remember for you.”
“So what will the ritual do?”
“We’re hoping it will show us what happened here. Like an echo.”
“So, you’re trying to make the maze remember?” Shane asked. He didn’t fully understand. I didn’t blame him.
I considered the question for a second. “Actually, that’s about the best way you could put it. Certain locations can tell us what happened there, and that’s what we’re trying to do.”
“Will we all be able to see?” Sophie asked.
“We should,” I said. “I can’t guarantee what you guys – as ghosts – will be able to see. I don’t think you should be any different than anyone else, though. We’re in unchartered territory. I guess we’re all about to find out together.”
“So, it will be like watching television?” Shane asked. He still wasn’t truly grasping the situation.
“No, it will be more like being in the television – but not being able to interact with the actors,” I clarified. “In theory, we’ll see what happens, but we won’t be able to change anything.”
“And the murderers won’t be able to see us?” Sophie asked nervously.
“No,” I soothed her.
“That sounds cool.” Shane was excited, despite himself.
I didn’t think he’d feel the same way when he saw himself being strung up like a scarecrow – but we were beyond protecting him at this point. I think we always had been.
Twenty-Seven
It took us about five minutes to get everything set up. It probably would have taken longer if my mom hadn’t distracted Aunt Tillie from micromanaging the setup. Once the candles were all lit – there were twelve in total – we all took our usual circle positions.
“It’s so pretty,” Sophie sighed.
“Yeah, it’s great for a murder scene,” Aunt Tillie sniped.
Sophie glared at her. “You don’t have to be so mean.”
“We need to concentrate,” Aunt Tillie admonished her. “It’s quiet time. Just embrace it.”
I smiled at Sophie sympathetically. I didn’t chastise Aunt Tillie, though. She was right. The longer we stayed here, the likelier the chance that we would be caught. And, as much as Chief Terry liked my mom and her sisters, he probably couldn’t ignore the fact that the seven of us were out here acting like idiots. And, in jail, we wouldn’t be able to get any space from each other.
Aunt Tillie started to chant. She started by calling to the four corners. We all concentrated. We knew how important this circle would be. No one could half-ass the effort.
Magic started to swirl around us. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel it. Even Shane and Sophie seemed surprised. Sophie’s eyes widened in suspended shock. “What is that?”
None of us answered her. We were all too intent on our task. Marnie started intoning next. We all took our turns. As each person took on the repeating refrain, the tapestry of power we were starting to weave strengthened – like an extra-strength cobweb.
Slowly, the vision in front of us became clear. We all watched as a dark figure stumbled into the maze. I had to remind myself this was the past, not the present, and to control my heartbeat.
The dark figure was wearing a large gray jacket. It looked like any typical work jacket. I could see he was wearing gloves. The back of his head was facing us, so we couldn’t see his face yet. He was dragging something into the clearing. I swallowed hard when I realized that it was Shane’s body.
“That’s me,” Shane whimpered.
Another figure entered the clearing. It was a smaller figure, but just as furtive. The smaller figure was wearing a wool mid-length trench coat. It was clearly a petite woman. She was wearing a dark winter hat. I couldn’t see her face yet. All I could see was hints of blonde hair sticking out from under the hat.
We all watched the scene unfold in silence. The only noise that could be heard was our breathing – which was dramatically increasing as the garish tableau continued in front of us.
“Grab his feet,” the male voice ordered.
“That’s gross,” the female complained.
“I can’t do it by myself. Stop being such a bitch.”
“Don’t you dare talk to me that way!”
The figures were getting closer to us. The man was almost on an even level to me. He was looking down as he dragged Shane’s body past us – but I managed to get a good look at his face. I gasped when I saw it – and recognized it.
“Who is it?” Clove asked. She was on the other side of the circle and she couldn’t see as well as I could.
“It’s that guy from the inn,” I said.
“Our inn?” My mom looked horrified.
“Which guy?” Clove asked.
“Ron.”
“The newlywed?” Thistle asked.
“Yeah.”
“That must mean. . . “
We all turned and focused harder on the woman. She trailed behind Ron, making sure not to touch the body. When she got closer, my suspicions were confirmed. “It’s Emily,” I breathed out harshly.
“That nice couple? It can’t possibly be.” Twila looked horrified, even though the scene was playing out in front of her, too.
“Well, it is,” I said simply.
We continued to watch as Ron struggled to hoist Shane’s body up onto the cross. I cringed involuntarily when I saw the body tumble to the ground when he failed at his first attempt. We could hear the sickening thud the body made as it hit the ground.
“You have to help me,” Ron grumbled. “I can’t do it alone. He’s too heavy – and it’s awkward to try and do it myself.”
“I don’t want to,” Emily’s petulant pout was disgusting.
“We can’t afford to stay here forever,” Ron pointed out. “We’ll get caught – and I don’t think you’d like prison.”
“Will you buy me a nice dinner when we’re done?” Emily asked.
“I’ll buy you whatever you want if you just come over here and help me,” Ron growled.
Emily sighed dramatically. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”
“Grab his feet.”
Even though we had all the information we needed, we all continued to watch in grim curiosity. I couldn’t make myself look away. I was so involved in watching what had happened in the past, that
I didn’t notice what was actually happening in our suddenly perilous present.
“What the hell is this?”
We all froze. The voice we just heard was familiar – but it was also solid, not like the hollow memory voices we had been listening to for the past few minutes. We all swung around to find Ron and Emily standing inside the clearing watching us – rampant disbelief etched on their chalk white faces.
Oh shit.
Emily looked surprised as she took in the scene. “Are you guys really witches or something?”
None of us answered her. We were all still shocked by the situation we found ourselves in.
Ron was watching the ghostly memories still play out around us. He seemed intrigued, despite himself. “That’s a pretty cool trick,” he said. “How did you do that?”
“They’re magic, stupid,” Emily interjected. She was watching the scene curiously, though. “Remind me not to wear that coat again. It makes me look fat.”
I finally managed to find my voice. “Why are you here?”
“We saw the car outside the maze when we drove by. We were understandably curious. Who sneaks into a corn maze in the middle of the night? Only freaky people.”
Says the guy that dragged the body of a mutilated teenage boy in here under the cover of darkness.
“I knew something was fishy about all of you,” Emily said snottily. She was wandering around the maze – but she didn’t get too close to us. “I thought all this magic stuff with the town was all fake, but when I met you guys, I knew you were different. I didn’t think you were really witches, though. I just thought you were all nutcases or something.”
If she was fishing for accolades for her superior intellect, she wasn’t going to get them here.
“I was suspicious of you guys right away,” Emily continued. “I just couldn’t figure out why you were so involved. So I decided to sit back and watch. It wasn’t easy. You guys are all over the place.”
“That was a nice way to divert attention from you guys, being the one to discover the body with me,” I said, faking admiration for their purported exploits. I wanted to keep them as calm as possible for as long as possible.
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