by Sue Clifton
“The what?” Hank asked as he ran his fingers across the keys without playing any notes.
“From two-thirty to three-thirty a.m. is the witching hour. They do show up at other times, but those early morning hours seem to be the best time for contacting spirits,” Cayce explained.
“More like spirits contacting you,” Harri added.
“Our dad had a saying that Harri and I live by, ‘Keep an open mind and an open path, and the Way will find you.’ It seems to always prove true.”
“Nice play on words. I bet your dad was a character.” Hank sat beside Cayce on the bench and leaned over with his elbows propped on his knees and his hands clasped.
“Definitely! We miss Pop, but a lot of the time we think he’s still with us. Not in the ghost sense but in the protective daddy sense.” Harri smiled, thinking of Pop.
“I tell you what, Hank.” Cayce stood and placed a hand on Hank’s shoulder, trying to show she could be friendly. “Harri and I will put our talents to use here, and we’ll come back to the table with you later and compare experiences. That way, we won’t be establishing any kind of a mindset.” Cayce did not want to be rude, especially since she had been so rude already, but she liked to experience the paranormal firsthand without any preconceived knowledge.
“That makes sense.” Hank glanced at Cayce and also stood without moving away from the bench. “I need to hit the road anyway. I really just came to meet you two and to apologize for yesterday. Joshua told me you would be driving a vintage truck, so I figured it had to be you.” Hank headed to the door, stopped, and turned back toward Cayce. “Hawk, is it? He’s a beaut’, by the way.”
As soon as Hank backed his truck out and waved goodbye, Harri started. “I guess you noticed Hank was not wearing a wedding band.” Harri’s eyes had a permanent twinkle.
“No, I did not notice. Anyway, that doesn’t mean anything. A lot of construction people don’t wear rings because of safety codes.” Cayce walked into the pantry and came out with a box of cereal. “Want some?”
“No. I hid a leftover scone from last night.” Harri dug the scone out of the back of the refrigerator and put it in the microwave to heat. “Now back to Cowboy Hank.”
“He is definitely a cowboy, and a fine specimen of one, but my interest is still in Joshua; that is, if he ever decides to come around again.” Cayce poured milk over her cereal and began crunching. “Doesn’t mean I can’t look, though, especially when the scenery is so awesome.” Cayce spoke through a mouthful as she sat on a stool at the island.
“Changing the subject. What do you think about Boo Radley?” Harri pulled off a piece of scone and popped it in her mouth.
“Charlie? Not a clue. I just hope he’s as harmless as Steve says. We’ll have to remember to ask Teesh the next time we visit. I bet she can give us his life history.” Cayce put her empty bowl and spoon in the dishwasher and turned to Harri. “Well, it’s show time. Where do you want to start?”
As if on cue, a huge thud came from one of the bedrooms upstairs. They looked at each other and headed toward the stairs.
Chapter Nine
Billie ate the oatmeal and fruit, something she was told she had to do for the health of her baby. How the Keeper knew she was pregnant remained a puzzle to Billie. The food he gave her was always tasty and healthy. “As close to the way God created it as possible” was how the Keeper described it, but today the oatmeal had a funny taste to it.
As soon as she put the Styrofoam tray in the depository where she always had to put the disposable dishes, the shower came on. Quickly, she headed to the corner, undressed, and got under the warm water. She had learned to lather fast with the rationed soap so she would have time to rinse thoroughly. The first time she had not been quick enough and had to wear soap until the next shower. When the shower turned off, she dried with paper towels and put her dirty dress back on. She placed the wet paper products on the depository.
“I’m ready for my clean dress,” she called. The door opened a few minutes later, and she retrieved her clean paper dress. She walked to the back corner again, under the camera where she had been told she could dress without being seen. The Keeper assured her he “respected the modesty of women.” What he really meant was he insisted upon it.
As always, the small door automatically shut, and she heard someone remove the items off the revolving shelf. A second later, the door opened, and she took out her rationed toilet paper and drinking water that had to last all day.
Billie dressed quickly, still embarrassed by the thought someone might be watching even though she was beneath the camera. The real reprieve from being watched came at night when it was so dark she could not see her own hand in front of her face. She’d been afraid of the dark before. Now, it was her only friend.
Billie went to her mattress and lay down. Feeling exceptionally sleepy made her wonder if she had exercised too much the night before.
Soon, she was sound asleep, dreaming she was floating along, almost flying, her feet not touching the ground. When she stopped, she tried to open her eyes, but could only manage a peek. Two people dressed in white stood over her. Their faces were covered with masks, and their mumbling was incomprehensible. She felt something cold on her belly. Round and round the cold thing moved. When she shivered, the shorter person, a female, patted her arm without saying a word.
Am I in heaven? Will I get to see my Grammar? Is my baby here with me?
Billie tried to open her eyes, but they would not open.
Where’s the light? Everyone says there’s a light. I want to go to the light.
But no light came. She felt something else cold. This time it was between her legs, pushing up inside her. She tried to press her legs together, but could not move. Again she shivered, but this time a woman patted her arm and whispered in her ear.
“It will be all right, Billie.”
“No! Do not speak to her!” The voice did not come from the man who stood over her but from across the room. The voice, loud and sharp, was not spoken through a synthesizer.
Billie could hear her Grammar’s voice.
Whistling!
Singing!
Remember, Billie! Remember!
Run!
Get up!
Run!
Then her own voice took control.
Falling! Falling!
Clouds!
Mom! Dad! Grammar!
Blackness.
Billie awoke on her mattress. It had been a strange nightmare, so real. It was as if she had been transported somewhere, somewhere away from the cell. She felt wet between her legs and tried to get up to go to the toilet, but she was too groggy. She fell back onto the mattress. Her dress was stuck to her belly and the upper part of her legs. She tried to get up again, and this time stumbled to the toilet.
She peed, but it hurt a little this time. When she wiped, she saw tiny specks of blood and something else thick and sticky. She pulled her dress away from where it was stuck to her belly. Reaching under, she felt small drops of something dried to her skin.
She recognized the little bit of gel that had been left on her stomach. It was from a sonogram like the doctor had given her at sixteen, when they’d thought she had appendicitis. She remembered the cold from her dream on her stomach and between her legs.
It was not a nightmare. The Keeper drugged me. The oatmeal!
He drugged me and took me somewhere.
I’ve been examined!
Billie closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around her knees in a fetal position, and rocked herself to sleep.
Chapter Ten
The sisters stopped at Cayce’s room first. The door was still closed, and no sound came from inside. Slowly, Cayce turned the doorknob.
Everything looked just like she had left it. Her suitcase lay open on the floor under the window, and her bed was still unmade, something she planned to remedy after they completed the tracking.
“Nothing amiss here. Let’s check your room, Harri.”
Gingerly, Cayce opened the door, remembering the last time, when she’d opened it only to discover a tall, bearded, and very scary stranger behind it.
Cayce and Harri squeezed through the door together.
“A little messy in your old age, aren’t you, Harri? Did you forget your upbringing?”
Harri’s suitcase had been emptied, her makeup and jewelry strewn all over the floor. Her lipstick and compact lay open on the dresser as if someone had been using them.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say a little girl has been in here playing with my makeup.” Harri picked up the lipstick that was out of the tube full-length and turned it to get it back down in its case. “And where’s the top to my lipstick case?” Harri looked under the dressing table and on the floor. “Now, this beats all. This is an expensive lipstick case, has mother-of-pearl on the top. Help me look for it, Cayce.”
Cayce helped search for the top. “Yep. Looks just like what you used to do with our mother’s makeup when you were little.”
“I remember you playing with Mom’s lipstick, too. You used it for war paint when you played like an Indian on the warpath in your barn loft hideout.” Harri was still on her hands and knees looking under every piece of furniture. Suddenly, Harri stopped and looked at Cayce.
“Did you hear something?” Cayce stood and wiped the dust off her hands.
“Was that a giggle?” Harri, too, stood and looked around.
“It certainly sounded like a giggle. I think we have company. It sounded like a little girl’s giggle. I just wish we knew her name.” Cayce sat on the bed, and then spoke. “We heard you giggle, and I think you have had fun with my sister’s makeup. My name is Cayce, and my sister is Harri. What’s your name?” She sat quiet, hoping for an answer.
Harri sat on the stool in front of the dressing table and reached for her purse where it sat on the bed. Slowly, with as little movement as possible, she pulled out a small digital recorder, turned it on, and laid it on one end of the bed.
“Do you like playing dress up? I did when I was a little girl. I played with my mother’s makeup, too.” Harri picked up the lipstick. “My favorite color for lipstick is pink, like this. What’s yours?”
Still no answer, and the room seemed eerily quiet.
“Come over here and stand by me, and I’ll show you how I put my lipstick on.” Harri hesitated a few seconds as if giving the little girl time to get beside her before she faced the mirror again.
“First, I take out my lipstick brush.” Harri reached into her makeup bag and pulled out a container holding a short brush. “Then I outline my top lip, like this.” She dabbed the brush on the lipstick until the bristles were thoroughly covered, then carefully followed the contour of her top lip, leaving a dark pink outline. “I do the same thing to my bottom lip, like this. Are you here?” Harri glanced to each side in the mirror as she completed the outlining.
“Once I’ve done that, I take my tube of lipstick and color inside the line on my lip, my top lip first and then my bottom lip. Be careful and stay inside the lines just like you do in your coloring book…or I think you would have called it your painting book.” Harri carefully filled inside the lines with hot pink lipstick.
“The last thing I do is take a little piece of tissue and put it between my lips and press my lips together. That gets the extra lipstick off so it doesn’t smear. Well, how do I look?” Harri looked straight ahead in the mirror, and Cayce figured it was because Harri did not know on which side of her the little girl might be standing.
“So that’s how you get your lips to look like that?” Cayce had been watching, mesmerized with her sister’s demonstration and had forgotten about the real audience. Cayce knew Harri saw her watching, too, and held up her hand to stop Harri from speaking. “No, I don’t want you to show me how to do my makeup. If it takes more than two minutes, I’m not up for it.”
“Cayce is my little sister. She’s a tomboy and likes to play with cowboys and ride horses. But don’t mind her. Sometimes she’s fun.” Harri kept her eyes on the mirror. “I’d really like the top to my lipstick case back. It was a gift from my husband and is very special. He died a few years ago, and I really miss him.” She paused a few seconds as if giving the little spirit time to think about what she had said. “If you happen to find it, would you put it on the dressing table? I would really appreciate it.”
Harri picked up the recorder and headed toward the door. Cayce followed her. Just as they got to the door, they heard a noise like something had been dropped. They both turned toward the dressing table and saw the lipstick case top rolling toward the edge and to the floor. Harri walked over, picked it up, and put it back on the lipstick.
“Thank you so much. I’ll leave my makeup out so you can play with it some more. I know you will be really careful and put it back in the bag when you finish.” With these words, Harri left the room, followed by Cayce.
The sisters said nothing until they got to the kitchen.
“Oh, my gosh! That was fantastic!” Harri was so excited she almost dropped the digital recorder. Cayce took the recorder from her sister’s hand.
“Here, let me do it.” Cayce punched rewind and then play, and held the recorder up between her and Harri’s ears. Harri’s whole demonstration played, and both smiled.
“I do the same thing to my bottom lip like this. Are you here?” The recorder repeated what Harri had said as she’d looked into the mirror, trying to gauge where the little ghost girl was. In the few seconds of silence following Harri’s question, a sweet, faint voice responded.
“I’m right beside you.” The little girl giggled.
Harri and Cayce gasped at the same time and began to jump up and down in excitement. They’d caught an electronic voice phenomenon, an EVP, just like many they had caught over the years, but none as sweet-sounding as this little girl.
Chapter Eleven
“The best way to find out who our little friend is will be to visit the cemetery. Steve said it’s up yonder, whatever that means. Let’s head up the valley.” Harri picked up her daypack and walked into the kitchen. “I’ll get us some water bottles and granola bars.”
“Better throw this in, too.” Cayce walked out of the pantry with a can of bear spray. “I assume there’s a reason why they keep this here.”
“Maybe it’s for Boo.” Harri took the bear spray and placed it in a side pocket for easy access. “I’m still not convinced a Peeping Tom can be harmless.”
Cayce and Harri followed the railroad track for the short distance it led out of Bar None, going into the mountains. The scenery was spectacular once they got past the last of the falling-down cabins and charred remains of buildings, not enough left to distinguish what the buildings had been originally. Cayce knew these would be bulldozed away eventually, and she could not help but feel sad at the prospect of losing some of the history of this wonderful old town.
“I wonder if Hank knows what cabin belonged to whom. If he doesn’t, he should get Teesh to tell him what she remembers.”
“Speaking of Hank, did he say he was staying at the hotel? I wonder if Joshua thinks we need protecting.” Harri’s eyes twinkled. “The way Hank looks at you, I’d say Joshua messed up if he ordered the good-looking cowboy to stay.”
“Oh, Harri. Give it up.”
Cayce intentionally out-walked Harri to put a stop to the conversation. She had not gone far when she saw what looked like an old mineshaft up the hill. Old timbers outlined piles of huge stones blocking the entrance. Hanging from several of the timbers were signs announcing Danger! No Trespassing!
Turning toward the mine, she climbed to the top of the
hill and sat on one of the boulders waiting for Harri. “I’m up here.” Cayce motioned for her sister to climb up the hill. “Look what I found.” Just as she got the words out of her mouth, she caught a glimpse through her peripheral vision of an apparition sitting a few feet away on another boulder.
She did not look at the apparition for fear of losing the sighting. The figure was looking down, watching Harri as she scrambled up the hill. Then, in a flash, the apparition disappeared.
“I see. The old mineshaft.” Harri huffed her way up to sit beside Cayce, and then took a bottle of water from her daypack, handing another one to Cayce.
“No. I’m not talking about the mine. Look.” Cayce pointed to the ground in front of her.
“Oh, my gosh!” Harri got up to get a closer look. “Tracks! Strange tracks! Like someone with one boot and a peg leg.”
“Yep. Reminds me of that line from The Man From Snowy River where Clancy says ‘Spur leaves tracks like a sea drill,’ or something like that. Look at the deep holes left by Peg’s wooden leg. I think Peg is a little on the heavy side.” Cayce glanced to her left, remembering the apparition she had just seen and knew it was probably Peg, and she was still listening and watching.
“So you think these were made by Peg, huh?” Harri looked around.
“Well, story goes, Peg guards the entrance to the mine. Her tracks are everywhere.” Cayce followed the tracks. “They’re coming from down the opposite side of the path we traveled, down by the railroad tracks.” Cayce bent over and looked closer. “This is strange. There are plenty of boot tracks coming up to the mine, but I don’t see any going away from the mine.”
Harri left her stone perch and began looking for tracks. “You’re right. Hmm! Peg is lingering at the mine.” Harri stood still, in her thinking mode. “You know, it could be Peg is trying to keep others from going into the mine, protecting would-be trespassers rather than trying to scare them. Did you think about that? Everyone has a story, and everyone has some good in them, or most everyone.”