“But I love William.”
“Didn’t mean to push.” He gathered the food.
“Peter,” she touched his hands to still them and he wanted to hold her. “We’re friends and I don’t want to ruin that. I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m in love with William and I always have been.”
He forced a big grin. “I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me.” He kissed her cheek. “Let me finish packing this food and we can explore the house.”
“Okay. I’ll help.”
Almost moved too fast. The workmen loaded trucks and waved as they drove away. Must be lunch break for them, too.
Sarah helped Peter pack the car. He really wants to explore the house. Maybe it’s time to go inside and face the memories I avoided yesterday. Or should I wait for William to do this? Nah.
Each step up to the porch took effort. One foot in front of the other. We can do this.
When she reached for the doorknob she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She pushed against the heavy wood. It moved. It wasn’t locked, but the right lower corner dragged.
Beside her, Peter put his shoulder into the move and musty air rushed out at them as the door opened.
Memories rushed, laughter, music, Walter, happiness, and pain. Pain and despair seemed to hang in the air. Sarita’s last memories would be of the pain of another too early childbirth. Sarah moved inside, seeing the room as it had been, fresh and lovely. Peter’s voice brought Sarah back to the present.
“Would you look at this place? We need light.” He reached for the switch beside the door, laughing when nothing happened.
“What did you expect? Georgia Power would leave the power on for forty years with no pay?”
“No, force of habit, like when a storm knocks out the power and you forget and flip light switches anyway.” He stepped to the floor to ceiling windows beside the door and pulled aside the curtains, which tore at his touch.
He unlocked and raised a window, but it wouldn’t stay up so he could unlatch the shutters.
“Here, I’ll help.” Sarah reached under the opening and pushed the shutters open. “I’ll find something to prop this up.”
Looking around in the meager light Sarah spotted a stack of two-by-fours in a corner. Window props, of course.
Within minutes Sarah and Peter opened enough windows to see the rooms around the foyer. Curtains and drapes hung in tatters.
“Well, now we can see.” Peter stood with his fists at his waist.
“I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”
Wallpaper hung in sheets along the wide wood staircase. The thick dust tickled her nostrils, forcing huge sneezes. Time had not been kind to this place.
The Chandelier hanging in the entry hall dripped dust, while the prisms caught sunlight from the windows. How had it remained in tack for over forty years while no one lived here? Sarita’s memories placed a large, well-polished table in the dinning room and twelve cane-back chairs. The burgundy wallpaper was similar to the original and barely faded.
Wax and elbow-grease would make the hardwood floors look like new. She watched Peter examine the old gas stove in the large open kitchen, as well as the black iron monster of a wood stove.
“God, Sarah,” he said. “this thing’s an antique. Do you suppose it still works?”
“Yeah, probably. Check out the ancient ice box and the refrigerator.”
He ran a hand over the tall wood cabinets. “Hey, my grandma Jackson has built-in cupboards like these. I love them. Wonder what they’re askin’ for this house? I’d kill to be able to open this place, to make it a showplace to feed lots of people.”
“You’re right. Maybe we can find investors.” She hoped he wouldn’t mention it again today. Something about his attitude seemed more than excited.
Suddenly Sarah felt a Sarita memory guiding her. Following Sarita’s lead she walked from the kitchen to another room off the wide hall. Standing in the doorway she saw an empty room fade before her eyes. Then she saw an old rocker and a narrow bed. The small fireplace blazed and a woman writhed on the bed.
Women scurried around the room to the bed and back. Pain tore Sarita in two. Cousin Mattie held her hand while the midwife held a cup to her mouth.
“Drink up, deary, it will dull the pain.”
“But the baby? Is it coming?”
Pain tore at her again. Her scream echoed in her ears. Her baby would come tonight, and there was no way to save it. This child wouldn’t wait to mature enough to have a chance at life. Sarita stopped trying to hold the baby inside. She pushed, knowing she had no choice. More pains and more pushing stripped her of her strength.
“She’s bleeding to death.” She couldn’t tell who spoke and it didn’t really matter. Her beloved’s voice in the next room reassured her though she could do nothing for him. She couldn’t save their child.
Her throat was dry when she tried to tell Mattie she needed Walter. She must have made herself understood, Mattie rose.
“I’ll get him. Hang on.”
The room around her began to fade even as she heard Mattie’s voice, then William’s. She couldn’t draw enough breath.
“I’m here, Darlin.” His large, rough hand smoothed her forehead, spreading a calm through her.
When she croaked he held a cup to her lips. “Don’t talk, save your energy, love.” he murmured close to her ear.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Tears wet her face. For a moment she could see him clearly. He looked so tired and so dear. Tears spilled from his eyes and ran down his cheeks unchecked. There was so much she needed to tell him, but she couldn’t form the words.
“Just rest.” His strong voice shook.
“I love you,” she struggled to get the words out. “and I always will.”
“Oh, honey, I love you more and I will love you long after the stars and moon cease to shine.”
There was no breath left. She tried to smile one last time. She felt her spirit leave her tired body as a wail rent the air in the room. Poor Walter. His second howl echoed in the room. She wanted to tell him they would be together again. She knew he would not understand. They were halves of the same soul.
“God dammit, Sarah, I’m callin’ for help!” Peter yelled. “Piece of shit cell phone!” Something hit the wall.
“Hush, Peter,” she muttered, her throat dry. She lay on the hard bare floor. “I’m okay.” The room became clearer. Peter had lit a candle from the pack he’d removed from her shoulders. She watched him rummage in the outside pockets.
“Like hell you’re okay. I need your phone.”
“Just get me water.” She sat, slowly to control the dizziness.
“Yeah.” He opened a bottle and placed in her hand. “Careful, take small sips.”
“I’m really fine. You don’t need to call for help.”
“But you were screaming and talking to people. Sarah, who’s Walter?”
“Sarita was married to Walter. They lived here together a lifetime ago.”
Peter still stared at her, his brow furrowed. “You will explain everything to me when you feel better, won’t you.”
“Sure.”
“First we need to get you back home. Can you walk?”
Sarah laughed at his concern. For a while there she had expected him to make a plea for money to buy this house and start a restaurant.
“Yes, I can.” She rose to her knees. Peter bend to put his arm around her as she stood. “See? You needn’t worry about me.”
“Lean on me and I’ll get you back to the car. The stale air in here can’t be good for you.”
She allowed him to help. She really did need fresh air. In the foyer the open windows helped, though the place would need screens all around.
“There’s one thing I want to check,” she said. “There.” She led the way to the staircase. Tapping the wall under the stairs she found what she wanted. A panel moved and she pulled it open.
“What are you doing?”
“I ne
ed one of the flashlights in the pack.”
“Wait here and I’ll get the packs. I’d figured I could go back and fetch them once you in the car and okay.”
He rushed back to the room where Sarita’s memory had hit her the hardest ever. She had died! Why was the need to check a hidden space so important at this moment? The tiny room inside was smaller than the space in the compartment would accommodate.
Her eyes had begun to adjust to the dark so she stepped into the closet of a room, bumping her head on a rod. Someone had made a closet of it. Hmm.
Peter sounded annoyed. “I told you to wait.”
“The flashlight, please?”
Taking it she shone it around the walls. She checked hangers along the walls, twisting and pulling. A wall moved opening the room more. More stairs led down. Ah, yes. “Grab the packs and follow me.”
“Are you crazy?” You just had some kind of fit and now you’re heading into a dark hidden passage, down hidden stairs to God knows where.
“Oh, come on.”
“Do you know where this leads?
“No, but Sarita would.”
“Have you any idea how little sense that makes?”
He’d follow if she kept moving, one step at a time. She could use a Sarita memory about now. She fingered the beads of her necklace. Yeah! At the bottom of the steps she would find three passages. One would lead under the house, the porch, and to the root cellar. The second led to the wine cellar and a hidden room where supplies had been kept. The third hall led to a cave. She sat on the bottom step and waited for Peter.
“Come on, Peter. Are you claustrophobic? Use your flashlight and hurry, the room gets bigger.”
His voice sounded odd, shaky. “I can’t, I really do hate small spaces.”
She’d have to go get him. “What if the real treasure’s down here?” she called. Halfway up the stairs she heard a loud crack, then a louder one as her foot went through to nothing. “Peter!” she pin-wheeled her arms, reaching for anything to stop her fall. A second crack sent her crashing to the hard ground.
“Peter, don’t come, call for help!” She tried to rise, but her leg folded under her, sending pain shooting from her foot to her hip. Not good.
“What? I’m coming.”
“No, call for help!” Her shoulder didn’t feel so well either. When she tried to move it her stomach heaved from the pain. Really not good!
She saw the beam from his light overhead, then he rushed down the stairs.
“No, stop! Watch out for…”
She rolled as he fell beside her. The packs caught on a step above her. He grunted. His flashlight hit with a sickening thud, then the light died.
“I said don’t come! Are you okay?”
He groaned. “Peter, can you hear me?” she tried to move to get a look at his face. Pain stopped her. Okay, no sudden moves. One of us needs to get the packs and the first aid kit and the pain pills.
“Answer me.” She’d kept her grip on her flashlight.
He held his head and rolled over to face her. Damn he’s hit his head. Does he have a concussion?
He opened his eyes and looked at her, squinting as though the light hurt his eyes.
“Sarah? What happened? Where are you?”
##
“Something is terribly wrong!” Mattie said. “Sarah needs us. We must help her.” She paced in the attic.
“But how?” Eloise asked. “Where is she?” Eloise moved from the window to the stairs.
“She is at the plantation Sarita and Walter shared. I don’t know what is wrong but something is. I can feel it.”
“We gotta tell someone. It’s not like we can do anything about it.”
“Yes! Come on!”
In a flash they were downstairs in the kitchen, trying for Sarah’s mother’s attention. “Look at us! Please see us.” Eloise hovered as a spirit, then became the form she showed Sarah.
The lady looked up from her computer and glanced around the room. “I must be hearing things.” She shook her head, then resumed her typing.
Mattie materialized beside Eloise. “She can’t see us.”
“Make her see us.” Eloise tapped her foot. “Too bad we can’t make words appear on that thing.”
Mattie grabbed the empty coffee cup beside the computer and dropped it.
“That did it. She’s looking right through us, though.”
“Mattie, Eloise?” Sarah’s mom stood. “You want something?”
“Of course we do,” Eloise shouted.
“Ladies, I wish I could see you or hear you.”
“Well, you cannot,” Mattie muttered. She grabbed for the pencil beside the pad and handed it to Eloise. “You can make these work, write her a message.”
Sarah’s mother coughed. “Well I’ll be damned.”
“I’ll try.” Eloise concentrated and formed the words on paper. “Sarah’s in trouble.”
“How do you know that?” the confused woman asked. She reached toward the moving pencil but didn’t try to take it.
“We don’t know how, we just know.” Eloise wrote.
“This isn’t working,” Mattie said. “We must get to Sarah and see what’s wrong.
Eloise took Mattie’s hand and they melted into the air. Mattie closed her eyes and Eloise mimicked her. Why, she didn’t know, she just did and thought of Sarah.
Both thought of Sarah and imagined her face, her spirit, and called to her and to the universe.
Mattie sought the energy to leave and felt her being propelled through the air, past material walls, past everything, toward Sarah. She visualized the plantation house where she had visited Sarita and Walter and willed herself there, hanging on to Eloise, too.
She saw the drive, the porch and the open door and windows. Sadness nearly swamped her at the memories of leaving this house after she had helped bury Walter. Sorrow filled the house with voices and energy she had never felt so strongly before.
“Sarah is here,” she said.
“Yes, I feel her, too.”
“Below the stairs.”
They floated to the floor where Sarah and Peter Jackson sat on the floor below the broken stairs.
“Why are you sitting on the floor?” Eloise asked, as she materialized. “Isn’t it hard and cold?”
Sarah didn’t know whether to laugh or weep at the sight of her ghosts. “Yep,” she muttered. “How did you get here?”
Mattie stood over Peter like an avenging angel.
Eloise laughed and nodded toward Mattie. “She brought me here. Hot damn, we did leave the house!”
“What took you so long?” Sarah watched Peter staring at her. His eyes were wide open and very round.
His voice sounded odd. “What do you mean, what took me so long? We’ve been sitting here for all of ten minutes and I don’t think either of us is capable of moving far without help. I can barely see anything. Blurred vision, you know.”
“I know, you likely have a concussion. Just ignore me, I’m thinking out loud.”
“Good. I was afraid there was someone here I couldn’t see.”
“That would be scary.” She laughed at the irony of their situation.
How can I communicate with ghosts without unsettling Peter?
Mattie fluttered around Sarah. “Where do you hurt?”
“My leg hurts from foot to hip, I can’t stand and I think I landed on my shoulder when I fell.”
Peter tried to rise but fell back. “I know you hurt yourself. I wish I could see better so I could guide us out of here. Give me a few minutes to clear my head.”
“Our packs got caught on the steps so I can’t get to my cell or the first aid supplies, or even water.”
”I know,” Peter said. “We’ll be okay, though.”
Mattie looked up at the pack she had watched Sarah fill earlier today. “Your cell?”
“Never mind, could you two bring the bags down?”
Both ghosts floated to the bags and managed to dislodge them, bringing
each down slowly.
“Shit!”
Peter’s expletive meant he had seen the bags fall.
“Sarah, did out bags just fall in slow motion?”
“I guess the weight brought them down.” She couldn’t answer that one truthfully. This time she was glad his vision suffered for the moment.
Digging in her pack she found water and her phone.
“Catch.” She rolled a bottle to Peter.
“Thanks!” He opened the bottle and drained it.
Sarah nearly threw her useless phone on the ground. “No reception,” she groaned. “So now what?”
“We get help,” Mattie stated.
Eloise looked at her, then at Sarah. “How?”
“I don’t know, but we will! Oh, we left your mama a note but I don’t know what she can do with it, unless she drives here or sends someone looking.” She grabbed Eloise by the hand and they disappeared in thin air.
“Are you gone?”
The only answer came from Peter. “Of course not. Where would I go? Sarah, are you having vision problems, too? Don’t you have a flashlight?” He scooted closer and felt for her hand.
“I’m just wondering where my sanity was when I brought us down these rotten stairs. I do wish you’d heard me tell you not to follow me after I fell.”
Haunting Refrain Page 28