A Strange There After

by Missy Fleming

  Boone noticed my presence first, freezing mid-lunge and changing directions.

  “Are you okay?” My arms tingled where he tried to grasp them.

  “Yes. Fine. A little light headed.”

  “Is she alright?” Jason demanded.

  Ignoring him, Boone did his best to direct me over to the step and motioned for me to sit. I cast a wary glance at Catherine then slumped down.

  “Answer me,” Jason bit out.

  “She’s fine. Looks exhausted, but she’s good.”

  “Oh, thank goodness.” Abby drew in a deep breath and gathered herself. “What the heck happened?”

  “What did you see, child?” Meena asked, walking up to me.

  “Kalfu. He’s real. He’s the one Cora summoned. He’s not trapped. He likes it here.” I rubbed my temples, buying time and figuring out how to proceed. “Kalfu mentioned that Cora is becoming more of a problem, disobedient, acting on her own. With Catherine posing as me, there’s nobody to bring him souls, whatever that means. He didn’t go into much detail about how it worked.”

  “What else did he say?” Catherine asked, her question tinged with notes of worry and fear.

  I cocked my head and studied her. “Why?”

  “Don’t believe anything he says.”

  “Kind of convenient for you to say that,” Jason grumbled.

  “Maybe she’s afraid of everyone finding out what she gave him,” I suggested.

  “Shut up right now,” she screeched.

  I did. Part of me didn’t want to tell them she’d been an accomplice to murder. I wasn’t even sure of the exact details. Plus, if I shared that part, they’d never let me even entertain the idea of taking Kalfu up on his offer.

  “Cora limits his power,” I said to divert the subject from Catherine’s actions.

  “Which makes sense. If she’s the one who brought him here, I’m sure she put restrictions on him.”

  I glanced at Jason in admiration. Maybe he was finally settling into this crazy situation.

  “He’s obviously found ways around her though,” Boone added.

  Abby piped in. “Because he’s had over a century to experiment.”

  “So all that drama and we don’t know much more.” Jason shook his head in frustration and dropped his head to stare at the ground. Catherine continued to watch me closely, as if she suspected more went on in the carriage house than I let on. Sooner or later, she and I were going to have to have a serious discussion about Kalfu and what he is asking of me. If I accepted, what happened to her?

  Meena regarded me with a sullen expression. “This may be more than I can handle. I need to contact some other priestesses I know. Together, we might be able to come up with a solution, some way to battle against this loa. Quinn, may we speak in private?”

  The word ‘battle’ solicited a shudder from me. I nodded and followed her away from my friends.

  “Tell me the truth.”

  I couldn’t do that. Instead, I gave her a vague answer. “What does it mean if he offers me a deal, a contract?”

  Her eyes widened momentarily. “Loa are notorious tricksters. Their method of cooperating always comes with a terrible price. He will find your weaknesses and prey on them, use them to his advantage.”

  And my weakness is my desire to get my life back, I added silently.

  “He feeds my anger. I know whenever I let it in, I’m letting him in, too, but it’s such an easy emotion to latch onto right now. I think that darkness has always been inside me, but it’s worse now. I used it to save one of the ghosts here. A wave of energy exploded out of me and chased Cora away. That’s bad, huh?”

  “Very bad,” she gasped. “We all have both good and bad inside of us. It’s only natural. Most humans just cultivate the good instead of the bad. In your current state, you’re more susceptible to emotion—all emotions. A loa can sense these weaknesses. I’m sure he’s showed you things that you’ve lost or that he can give you.”

  “Yes,” I whispered softly.

  “Don’t fall for his tricks. I fear things will only get worse before they get better. Do not let the anger in again. The more you do, the easier it will be to tap into—and harder to escape.”

  I merely nodded. After all the warnings, I wasn’t sure how I felt about giving in to the temptation. It was so nice to act instead of waiting for someone else to do it for me. I took matters into my own hands, in a way I never dreamed of before.

  She continued. “Until I return, if you ever need me for any reason, come to my shop. It is down near the City Market, on Barnard Street. You are always welcome.”

  I nodded mutely, hoping it never came to that.

  Moving back toward the others, Meena reached into her bag and pulled out three amulets. She addressed Abby, Jason and Boone, handing them each one as she spoke. “Each of these is charmed with a heavy protection spell. It will keep you safe from Kalfu’s influence, in any form. Do not take them off while in this house.”

  I watched my friends solemnly slip the necklaces on. The pendants were simple, amber stones affixed to a thin leather rope. Boone regarded his as if it held the secrets to the universe.

  “How’d you do it?”

  She gave him a warm smile, lighting up her craggy face. “I won’t share my recipes with you, Mr. Internet.”

  He actually blushed and tucked the amulet under his plaid button-up.

  “Where’s mine?” Catherine demanded, leaning over Jason’s shoulder to peer at his.

  “You, my child, are beyond the help of a simple protection spell. I will try to work something stronger for you. We must keep the body safe until it can receive its proper owner.” Catherine’s lips fell into a pout. Meena returned her attention to me. “I’ll be in touch.”

  I watched Meena leave and tipped my face up, hoping to soak in what little warmth I could from the setting sun. Despite being surrounded by all my friends, I wanted to flee, run away. This was the last place I wanted to be. Heavens, I wished I was able to sleep.

  “I have to go.”

  Turning at the sound of Jason’s voice, I noticed Abby gaping at him. “Do you have some place more important to be?”

  “Actually, no, but I can’t get out of it. I have a photo shoot for the movie.”

  “A photo shoot?” Boone snorted.

  Jason sneered at him. “I have obligations. It doesn’t mean I won’t be back.” He followed Boone’s lead and slipped the necklace under his polo. “I can’t deal with all this crap on a continuous basis. I just...need a minute.”

  “What about Quinn? She deals with it every second of every day!”

  Jason’s clenched jaw was the only indication Boone’s remark affected him. He didn’t answer. His eyes searched our little group, and I should have been used to it, but it still hurt when he failed to notice me. Then he stalked around the side of the house and disappeared. Pain shot through my heart. He left. Again. And he didn’t say goodbye. Everything I’d been worried about was coming true. Jason came to Savannah to film a movie, but he also came looking for answers about the afterlife, about what might have happened to his brother when he died. The other stuff, with Marietta, he handled fine. Granted, this was infinitely worse, but I was still here. Didn’t he understand? I did have feelings, even if I was just a ghost.

  “Rude,” Catherine grumbled before heading inside the house.

  I watched her leave. Staring at her back, I felt the anger stir and narrowed my eyes. She tripped, almost tumbling into the house. Immediately, guilt set in, and I shoved the emotion out of me. Did I do that? I shook out my hands, trying to dislodge the lingering pleasure I got from seeing her stumble.

  “Don’t worry about him. It’s a lot to get used to,” Abby reassured me. “He’ll be back.”

  “Maybe next time you can share your recorder with him, Abby. Then, he won’t feel so left out,” I chided, short on patience. “Including him might benefit us all.”

  “I’m not sure he’s earned it yet.” She sighed.
“But, okay. I see your point.”

  Boone, on the other hand, was still grumpy. “Doesn’t matter. He should realize what his doubt and inability to deal does to her. I think he forgets she can hear him.”

  “Not all of us are as perfect as you,” I muttered, even though I agreed with him.

  “You’re obviously feeling better.” He beamed, his attitude doing a one-eighty. “If you’re strong enough to send me snark, you’re strong enough to come with me to the Historical Society. Abby, I need you to gather some equipment for me. I want to do some more tests on that carriage house. I have a feeling it’s Kalfu’s nest.”

  “Ew, nasty visual. Do you mean like where he keeps this collection of his?” Abby squeaked.

  “Maybe.” Boone shrugged.

  “Why are we going to the Historical Society?” I asked after he rattled off a list for Abby.

  “Research, of course.”

  His grin was contagious. “Yeah, no duh. What are we looking for?”

  “Any Roberts who have died mysteriously, suddenly. Maybe any other unexplained deaths in the immediate area. If we know who this Kalfu guy is collecting, maybe we can assist them with passing on. I’m not sure it will work, but at this point, we have to try anything.”

  “So, what? On top of all your other skills, you can also direct souls to the light?”

  He shook his head. “No faith in me. Sad.”

  Abby’s giggle interrupted our back-and-forth. “You two are hilarious.” She pulled out her ear buds. “Alright, I’m off. I’ll see you guys tonight.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  In a far corner of the Georgia Historical Society building, one of my favorite places in Savannah, I peered over Boone’s shoulder and read the yellowed newspaper in front of him. The place smelled of musty manuscripts and preserved paper and, even with my watered down senses, it drove home the spike of yearning. I used to spend hours here, poring over records of my heritage. I missed the simplicity of it.

  Boone and I spent the afternoon drafting a list of Roberts who died mysteriously, many labeled as accidents or unknown. One, Marienne Roberts, was found crumpled at the bottom of the front steps, which was only a three step drop. She had no obvious wounds, not even a broken neck. Gerald Roberts was found in his bed, hair and skin blanched of all color, as if scared to death.

  We’d been reading another when Boone broke the silence. “So, I can’t figure it out. What do you see in Mr. Hollywood?”

  Boone’s question startled me. It took me a second to find my words, but all I came up with was an inquiry of my own.

  “Why?”

  He reclined in his chair, our bodies touching for a moment before I pulled away. The sensation left me feeling charged, electric. He stretched his arms over his head.

  “Curiosity. Consider it part of our research.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I met Jason at a time in my life when I had nothing.”

  This time Boone gave me the eye roll. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. Sure, I graduated, but that was about it. I planned to leave my beloved Savannah for college up north, with the Yankees. My stepmother tormented me whenever she had a chance. Her daughters were worse. My mother and father were dead. Jason showed me what life had to offer, what I missed out on the last couple years.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “Don’t take this wrong, but it doesn’t seem as if you have much in common.”

  “I know you don’t like him, but he’s not what he seems.”

  “It’s not that I don’t like him. I don’t like him for you.”

  I skirted Boone’s chair to look directly at him. He stared at me with an unreadable expression, or maybe I didn’t want to read it. Was it possible he—no, I did not want to go there.

  But I did. “What is this really about?”

  “Nothing.” He waved a hand over the page we’d been studying. “This says Goderick Roberts died in his sleep, at the age of thirty-two. This was in 1922. Autopsy showed no signs of ill health and cause of death was recorded as ‘inconclusive’. I think we can add this to the list.”

  “Sounds like it.” I followed his lead and dropped the subject of why he didn’t think Jason was right for me. “I had no idea my family was tormented this badly. It’s a wonder we’ve lasted this long. Hopefully the Roberts name doesn’t die with me. Well, I’m a girl, so in a way it will die with me.”

  “Don’t give me that. It’s not about the name, it’s about the legacy. When this is over and you have kids, your family will live on in the stories you tell them. They will do the same for their kids. The house will be theirs too. It doesn’t stop because you can’t use the same last name anymore.”

  A hot lump lodged in my throat. His words moved me. It was eerily similar to how I dreamed my future would be—passing of the house on to my children, along with the tales my mama used to share with me. I wanted to get my kids excited about history, to make them feel it the way I did. Growing up in a place like Savannah, I learned to respect our past, my heritage. It was a huge part of the girl I grew into. I wanted there to always be a Roberts in my home, regardless of their last name.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, offering him a small smile.

  “Absolutely.” His cocky attitude returned. “You are incredibly lucky to have me around.”

  “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

  He began gathering papers, indicating it was time to leave, and I moved out of the way so he could tuck them in his messenger bag.

  “This is a long ways from over. Best get used to me.”

  I didn’t answer until we were out on the sidewalk, darkness settling on the streets. “How long were we in there for?”

  He shrugged. “A few hours.”

  “You’re such a conundrum.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I mean it. I used to watch your videos and make fun of you. Your aggressive tactics drove me crazy. Not to mention, you come off as a huge jerk. A know-it-all. And yet, you’ve put your life on hold to stay here and help me. I mean, don’t you have a nasty prison to investigate or an axe murderer home that needs to be exposed?”

  “Those places will always be there.” He took off his glasses and cleaned them on his t-shirt. “Maybe once you’re feeling like yourself again, we can do a show together, take it to a nationally syndicated cable channel.”

  I barked out a laugh. “Sure, you provoking the spirits and me playing Dr. Phil to them after they’ve been traumatized.”

  “I think our lively banter will attract viewers.”

  “Is that what you call this?”

  “I call it fun.”

  He had me there. “I guess it kind of is. Huh, who would have thought? A couple days ago I couldn’t stand you.”

  “Ouch.” He clutched at his chest.

  “It goes back to the conundrum thing. You’re a bit of a marshmallow on the inside.”

  “If you tell anyone, I’ll make you regret it.”

  We continued in companionable silence. I found myself comparing him to Jason, which compounded me with guilt. Still, it was hard not to make comparisons. Sooner or later, I needed to really examine my feelings for my boyfriend, or whatever he was now. In spite of being with Catherine for three weeks, I knew Jason considered me his girlfriend, but I didn’t exactly feel the same way. I kept thinking he cheated on me. Worse, I had watched it. My reservations were justified, especially when he existed in frustration and anger. I saw the way he looked at Catherine, and it chipped away at my affection bit by bit. The longer I was trapped as a spirit, the more I wondered if too much time was passing.

  With Boone, I didn’t worry about not being seen, about being forgotten. I’d known him a significantly less amount of time, but I had this traitorous suspicion he knew me better than Jason ever did or could.

  I shook my head, desperately trying to clear the thoughts. It was a huge non-issue until I got my body back. Eye on the prize, Roberts, I ordered myself.

  “So, what are we hoping to ac
complish with those names?” I asked, intent on a distraction.

  “I’m going to steal Abby’s suggestion and have a séance.”

  Shock stopped me in my tracks. Boone didn’t notice until he was about twenty feet away, then he pivoted and walked back to me. “What?”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Why do you keep questioning that?”

  “A séance? You derailed the idea when it was Abby’s. Even if Kalfu has people trapped, what makes you think they will be able to communicate with us? And aren’t séances kind of hokey? What do a couple of sensitives like us need with it?”

  “Some ghosts remain veiled even from those with the sight. I don’t intend to do it at your house. Too unpredictable. I was thinking Abby’s, neutral ground.”

  “What do you hope to accomplish?” I asked Boone wearily.

  “Let’s assume his collection is spirits who haven’t passed on. Maybe we can persuade the trapped souls to, I don’t know, stage an uprising. If they rise up and move on, Kalfu won’t have any more power to draw from. Or we simply gather more information. Find out exactly what is going on.”

  “I’m not convinced he does take his power from them. They’re his collection, his sick way of pretending to be in charge, like he used to. Besides, it’s not like they’re a union you can excite into rioting.”

  “It’s worth a shot.” He sighed in frustration. “I’m fresh out of ideas, Quinn.”

  “Let’s give Meena a chance first. It’s a voodoo spirit we are dealing with, so it should be voodoo we use to banish him.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “If nothing else works,” I hesitated, “then we’ll try to contact someone.”

  He nodded. “Deal. I just worry about you running out of time. I keep waiting for Catherine to disappear, to jet off to some far corner of the world.”

  “I’m not sure she can. I get the feeling she’s afraid of truly being on her own. Or if she leaves, the hold she has over my body will weaken.”

  “Brilliant.” He beamed at me. “Let’s pack her off to the Arctic. She’ll be weak, then you can climb back in and kick her out.”