Fixing to Die

by Miranda James

  CHAPTER 11

  Benjy thought the ghost looked an awful lot like his stepfather.

  But what was his stepfather doing here? He ought to be in California.

  Am I in California?

  The ghost didn’t look like his stepfather now. It didn’t look like anyone Benjy knew. It also looked really angry about something. Its arms shot out, and its hands grabbed for Benjy’s throat.

  Benjy screamed and backed away, but there was a wall behind him. Nowhere to go as the hands kept grabbing at his throat.

  Somewhere a dog barked, and Benjy banged his head against the headboard and woke up.

  He rubbed the back of his head and tried to orient himself. Where was he? Oh, yeah, the haunted house in Natchez.

  His eyes fully open now, Benjy saw Peanut on the bed beside him, looking anxious. Peanut woofed at him again, and Benjy patted the dog’s head to reassure him.

  “I’m okay, boy,” Benjy said. “Thanks for waking me up. That was some creepy dream I was having.”

  He yawned. Where was Endora?

  As if she had read his mind, the Abyssinian jumped down from atop the headboard and landed in his lap. He stroked her soft fur, and Endora stretched and yawned.

  Benjy checked his watch and was surprised to see that it was nearly four o’clock. That meant he had been asleep for about two hours.

  “Man, I didn’t think I was that tired,” he told the dog and the cat. He rubbed the back of his neck. “My headache’s gone, but I must have been sweating like crazy.” His neck felt a little clammy, and he realized his head was also damp.

  Peanut suddenly licked his face, and Benjy grinned. “Thanks, but I think a shower is what I need. Let me take one and get dressed, then I’ll take you out. How does that sound?”

  Peanut barked happily. He understood the word out. Endora did, too, Benjy knew, though she was not always as keen on going outside as the dog was.

  Ten minutes later, freshly showered and back in his clothes, Benjy found Peanut’s leash and attached it to the dog’s collar. “I know you don’t like this leash much,” Benjy said in response to loud whining, “but we’re not at home, and I can’t let you just run around outside here. Next thing I know, you and Endora will be digging up a flower bed.”

  Or a dead body, he thought, like the one they’d found not that long ago after a big storm back in Athena.

  While he walked Peanut and Endora in a grassy area surrounded by trees behind the annex with the guest rooms, Benjy thought about his dream.

  He figured he knew why he dreamed about ghosts. All the talk about haunted houses the last couple of days before they came to Natchez had kept the subject firmly in his mind. At first, he thought it would be pretty cool to see a real ghost. Then, the more he thought about it, he wondered how he would really react. Would he stand his ground and face the ghost? Or would he scream and run away, terrified, like people in the old horror movies he used to watch on television? He wasn’t sure at the moment whether he wanted to put himself to the test, not after that creepy dream about his stepfather.

  But why had he dreamed about his stepfather? The man hadn’t been in touch with him after the events of a few months ago, when Benjy’s mother died. As far as Benjy knew, Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce hadn’t heard anything from him either. Benjy didn’t particularly want to hear from him. He had never liked the man all that much, and his stepfather hadn’t cared for Benjy either.

  Benjy was nineteen, an adult, with no legal ties to his stepfather, but he realized that secretly he was afraid the man would come to Mississippi and try to make him move back to California. Benjy didn’t want that. There was nothing for him in California anymore.

  Besides, he thought, he was really fond of Miss Dickce and Miss An’gel. They cared about him, had taken him in and given him a home. They had allowed him to adopt Peanut and Endora—well, really, they had all adopted the cat and the dog. But the animals were in his care most of the time, and he couldn’t ever give them up, no matter what. He wanted to stay with the Ducote sisters, he realized. They were the only family he had now, along with Clementine, Peanut, and Endora.

  He hadn’t thought much about it before—hadn’t allowed himself to, really—because it was all like a wonderful dream. If he thought about it too much, something might happen to make it all go away. Make the dream into a reality, and his reality in California hadn’t been happy or pleasant.

  He had found a home, and he wanted to keep it. The sisters seemed like they truly cared about him, and he cared about them. Miss Dickce was like the grandmother he had never known, and Miss An’gel was like an aunt, he thought.

  Now he didn’t feel so spooked by the dream, he realized. Feeling unburdened, he came out of his reverie to see Peanut and Endora digging a hole near the roots of a tree.

  “Stop that,” he told them. They recognized the tone of voice and immediately stopped digging. Endora looked annoyed with him, but then she always did when he stopped her from creating a mess.

  He caught them before they had dug much up, and he patted the dirt and grass back into place. He didn’t want to know what lay underground there, and he would have to watch to be sure they didn’t try to dig there again.

  Thwarted from digging, Peanut concentrated on sniffing around and doing his business. Benjy picked up the poop in the plastic bag he had brought and dropped it in a large garbage can at the side of the annex.

  “How about some water and a treat or two?”

  Both Peanut and Endora looked happier once they heard the word treat, and he opened the door to their room and let them in. He was about to close the door behind him when he heard voices outside. He stuck his head out the door and saw Mary Turner walking toward the building, and she had two people with her. A guy and a woman. The guy looked kind of old, Benjy thought, over forty at least, but the woman looked okay. Younger than Mary Turner, but nowhere near as beautiful. Maybe the guy was the woman’s father.

  They hadn’t spotted him, and he didn’t want to be caught gawking at Mary Turner. His face reddened slightly as he drew his head back inside and shut the door. He couldn’t help himself somehow when she was around. She was so nice and sweet and beautiful. His heart thumped a little harder whenever he thought about her.

  Peanut barked to remind him that he had promised treats. Benjy went to the bag that contained the animals’ food and dug around until he found the small bags of treats for each one. He had a couple in each hand before he turned around to give them out. He had quickly learned one would sulk if the other one got a treat first.

  Peanut gobbled his down immediately and looked up at him hopefully. Endora picked her small bites up in her mouth and jumped on the bathroom counter away from Peanut. Sometimes the Labradoodle managed to steal hers before she could eat them, but not this time. Peanut knew better than to try to climb or jump on the counter.

  “That’s all you get for now,” Benjy told him. He picked up their water bowls, dumped the contents, and refilled them. While Peanut lapped thirstily at his, Benjy retrieved a bottle of water for himself from the small fridge in the room and drained half of it in one go. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was.

  He checked his phone to see if he had missed a text or a call from the sisters, but there was no message. He decided he ought to go over to the house and find them, see whether they needed him for anything.

  “You two are going to stay here for a little while by yourselves.” Benjy gave each a couple of rubs on the head. “Now be good, and don’t make a racket. As soon as I can, I’ll come back and get you, and you can visit in the house, okay? I need to see if everything is okay over there first.”

  Peanut woofed, but Endora, true to form, simply yawned at him and began washing a paw.

  Making sure the door was securely locked behind him, Benjy headed across the wide courtyard toward the back door that led into the kitchen. Halfway acros
s the courtyard that separated the house from the annex, he stopped for a moment to look at the back of the house.

  Was it really haunted? He figured a house this old had seen its share of deaths. Remnants of those dead souls might linger on because of unfinished business. He had read that recently. What was the word the author had used? Revenant. Something that had returned from the dead. Despite the late afternoon sunshine, he shivered. That returned from the dead bit bothered him.

  Miss Dickce and Miss An’gel didn’t appear to be frightened by the thought of ghosts, so he decided he shouldn’t be either. Besides, it was still daytime, and ghosts really didn’t come out until nighttime. He was okay going into the house now, he decided, and continued his progress.

  He knocked on the back door but received no answer. After a moment he opened the door and stepped inside. “Hello, anyone here? Miss Marcelline, are you here?”

  There was no answer, so he pulled the door closed behind him and advanced into the kitchen. He sniffed appreciatively at the scent of a roast emanating from the Crock-Pot he espied on the counter. He wasn’t sure if they would be dining here tonight, but he sure hoped so. Based on the food at lunch, he thought Miss Marcelline was in the same class as Clementine back home. Clementine cooked the best food he had ever eaten. He patted his stomach ruefully. He had gained at least ten pounds since he’d come to live with the Ducote sisters.

  Benjy passed through the kitchen and out into the hallway, where he paused briefly to listen. He didn’t hear any voices. Where were Miss Dickce and Miss An’gel? He wandered down the hallway and glanced into the open doors.

  The first floor appeared to be empty. He walked back to the staircase and looked up. He remembered what Miss Dickce had said about the cold she had felt on the stairs. He hesitated a moment. What would he do if he felt it, too?

  Might as well find out. He climbed the stairs to the second floor without feeling any change in temperature. He felt almost disappointed by that, but a little relieved as well. He paused at the top. He wasn’t sure which room either of the sisters was occupying. He recalled a mention of the French room, where Miss An’gel was going to stay, but he had no idea which room it was.

  He didn’t want to knock on any doors and disturb anyone unnecessarily, so he pulled out his cell phone to call Miss Dickce. The phone began to ring, and he waited for her to answer. After a moment, he heard her say, “Hello, Benjy. Where are you?”

  Before he could answer, he felt a soft touch on his shoulder, yelled in fright, and dropped the phone.

  CHAPTER 12

  While she unpacked in her new bedroom, An’gel kept pondering Mary Turner’s remark about Nathan Gamble. How she hoped something would happen while he was in the French room that would scare the life out of him. Had Mary Turner told the man anything about the strange events in that room? She would have to ask Mary Turner when she saw her next. It didn’t seem fair to let the man spend the night there without some kind of warning.

  Of course, Nathan Gamble might not believe his cousin. He might think she was simply trying to get him out of the room so Miss An’gel could have it back. An’gel and Dickce could certainly vouch for Mary Turner, after the two incidents that An’gel had experienced. If the man didn’t believe them after that, he could look out for himself.

  A scream from outside her door startled An’gel into dropping the dress she was in the act of hanging in the wardrobe. Whoever screamed sounded terrified, and An’gel stood rooted to the spot for a moment. Then she hurried to the door and yanked it open, only to behold Benjy, hands clapped over his eyes, bent slightly forward, trembling.

  Mary Turner, who stood behind him, said, “Benjy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I thought you heard me coming up the stairs not far behind you.”

  An’gel relaxed against the door frame and felt the pounding in her chest begin to ease. They were all on edge, and poor Benjy had evidently had a real fright. She watched as he dropped his hands, straightened his back, and turned to face his hostess. The poor boy’s face was beet red, and An’gel knew he was terribly embarrassed. Bad enough that he had yelled like a scared child, but worse that it was in front of Mary Turner, whom he admired. An’gel felt bad for him.

  Benjy offered Mary Turner a sheepish grin. “Sorry to yell like that. I guess I’ve been thinking too much about ghosts, and since I didn’t think anyone was in the hall with me, I overreacted.” The red began to recede from his complexion.

  “There’s no need to apologize to me,” Mary Turner said firmly. “I’m the one who is apologizing. I should have called out to let you know I was behind you.”

  “The main thing is,” Benjy said with a shaky laugh, “you’re not a ghost. No telling what I might have done if I’d looked around and nobody was there.”

  Dickce hurried into the hallway from her room. “What’s going on? Who screamed? Is everyone all right?” She stooped to pick up Benjy’s cell phone from the carpet runner. “Isn’t this yours?” She held it out to Benjy.

  “Yes, ma’am, thank you.” Benjy accepted the phone and then explained to Dickce that he was the one who’d yelled and why.

  “My goodness, no wonder you reacted that way,” Dickce said. “An’gel and I are both a little jumpy after what we’ve experienced today.”

  “What happened to you?” Benjy asked. His eyes widened in alarm, and An’gel hastened to assure him that she and Dickce were fine.

  “There were two incidents of my clothing being moved from one place to another in the French room.” An’gel related the details to Benjy.

  Dickce said, “The only thing I’ve experienced so far is that cold sensation on the stairs. Did you feel it when you came up here?”

  Benjy shook his head. “No, ma’am. Thank goodness. I was kind of expecting to, but it didn’t happen.” He indicated the doorway where An’gel stood. “Can I see inside the French room? I’m really curious to see what it’s like.”

  “This isn’t the French room,” An’gel said. “I’ve switched to this one so that Mary Turner’s cousin can have that room.”

  “My distant cousin, Nathan Gamble. My fifth cousin, I think. At least that’s what my grandmother always told me,” Mary Turner explained. “Anyway, he’s having work done at his house—or so he says—and needed a place to stay for a couple of nights. He thinks the French room is his by right.”

  “What does that mean, his by right?” Benjy asked, obviously confused by Mary Turner’s explanation.

  “Tell you what,” An’gel said before Mary Turner could respond. “Instead of standing out here in the hall, why don’t we all go back downstairs to the parlor, where we can sit down and be comfortable. Then we’ll explain.” She pulled her door shut and headed around Mary Turner and Benjy to the stairs.

  They all followed her into the parlor. Dickce and An’gel chose one sofa while Mary Turner and Benjy took the other. Now that they were seated comfortably, An’gel looked at Mary Turner. “Do you want to explain, or shall I?”

  “You go ahead,” Mary Turner said. “You’ll do it more succinctly than I will because I usually get annoyed over the stupidity of it all and start digressing.”

  An’gel nodded. “Very well.” She proceeded to give Benjy a précis of the story of fourth great-grandfather Turner and his young sister. When she’d finished, she rested against the back of the sofa and waited to hear what Benjy might say.

  “This cousin of yours reminds me a little of my stepfather’s mother.” He glanced at An’gel and Dickce. “She was a friend of Miss Dickce’s and Miss An’gel’s. Anyway, she had an obsession, too, so I kinda know what you mean when you say your cousin is obsessed with the room.”

  “He’s talking about our friend Rosabelle Sultan,” Dickce explained. “You might have heard your grandmother talking about her. They knew each other at one time.”

  “Vaguely,” Mary Turner said. “What was her obsession, Benj
y?”

  “Herself,” he responded promptly. “I found out later, after reading about it in a psychology book, that she was a narcissist. Do you know what that means?”

  Mary Turner nodded. “Yes, I do. Nathan is somewhat like that. He’s really only concerned about himself and his bank account.”

  “Even if it is an obsession, and maybe he can’t help himself,” Benjy said, “the whole thing seems useless to me. Why would anyone in that family think the stuff in that room really belongs to them after all this time?”

  “That’s what comes from nursing a grudge, generation after generation,” An’gel said. “I agree the whole thing is pointless on Nathan Gamble’s part. But that doesn’t mean people still don’t feel that way. Dickce and I know two families in Athena that haven’t spoken to each other if they can help it for over sixty years.”

  “I don’t get it,” Benjy said, “but I don’t have to.” He turned to his hostess. “Does he know about the weird things that happen in that room?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Mary Turner said. “I’ve certainly never told him, and I don’t intend to.” She glanced quickly at An’gel and Dickce. “I’d rather no one else did either. Let him experience it for himself.” She shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe nothing at all will happen while he’s in the room. He has little imagination that I’ve ever seen, so he probably won’t even notice if something gets moved.”

  An’gel felt that Mary Turner was wrong not to tell her cousin but she figured it would do no good to argue with her about it. “Very well,” she said. “We won’t say anything, but I think you should be prepared for the backlash if anything does happen and he is injured, for example.”

  “I really don’t think anything serious is going to happen,” Mary Turner said. “Nothing really terrible has happened so far, after all. It’s been annoying and occasionally creepy, but neither Henry Howard nor I has been physically hurt.”