"A soda'll do," Sara replied.
"Soda in the morning?" Dr. Lin asked, wiping his lips and getting up from the table.
"I know, Doc. Just taking care of a little craving right now. I won't make it a habit; I promise," Sara said.
"I'll hold you to that." Lin waved a finger as he walked past.
Sara headed over to a corner table and sat down to eat her snack. The café was fairly empty that time of morning—one other person was sitting about ten feet away. Sara didn’t know him.
"Want company?" Beverley asked, pulling out a chair.
"Sure," Sara looked up. "You're not getting anything from Tia?"
"No. I'm cool. So, what's crackin'?"
"Nothing's cracking, Bev."
"I'm gonna need a ride again today," Beverley reached over and broke off a small piece of Sara's donut and started to eat it.
"No problem. I just have to make a stop at the market on the way," Sara said. "What's Tom saying about your car?"
Beverley shook her head. "Nothing… absolutely nothing. I called a mechanic last night from an ad I saw and he's there dealing with it as we speak. That boy of mine is a piece of work. You know what he told me yesterday?"
"No. What?"
"He told me that he can't get to the car anytime soon because he's been having some strange pain in his groin area lately."
Sara stopped chewing. "Really? Did you check to see what might be going on with that?"
"Check for what? That boy's lyin' through his teeth. He ain't having no pain in his groin nor anywhere else. He's just lazy as hell!" Beverley was passionate, as usual, when it came to her son, Tom. She always blamed ex-husband, Joe for spoiling him rotten.
"How can you be sure that he's not telling the truth, Beverley? Tom could be in real pain which you, his mother, is ignoring," Sara said.
"Pain…my…"
Sara spanked Beverley's hand that was stretched out on the table.
"Anyway… Tom can fool one like you, but I know him better than anybody. He lies for a living—morning, noon, and night. I don't have time for anymore of his concoctions, so I put an end to all the crap and hired a real mechanic."
Sara decided to leave the subject alone; her friend was getting all worked up about it and the day was still too young for that.
7
_________________
Three days later
The young woman was locked in a loving embrace behind a small shed with the man who had been chopping the wood. She seemed to adore him and he— her.
"One day, we will marry," Mira heard the young man whisper in the girl's ear.
"Oh… Andy. That'll very well be the happiest day of my life!" The girl responded cheerfully.
They held each other for some time before the girl quietly snuck back to the big, white house. She entered in through the basement where there were two small cots. Mira sort of knew in her dream that an older female slave used to occupy the one on the right before she died and now the young woman slept down there alone. The girl started to undress when she heard a crack at the door. It was the tall, white man Mira had seen before in her dream.
The man rushed over to the colored girl, grabbed her by the arm and snarled: "You been sneaking around this property with that nigger boy; haven't you?!"
"I… I don’t know what you sayin', Massa Cornelius." The girl was visibly frightened.
"You damn well know what I'm talking about!" He pulled her up to his face — the girl now in tears.
"I told you not to see that nigger no more and you didn't listen!"
"I did listen, Massa! I did listen!" She exclaimed.
"Come in here!" Cornelius hollered loud enough for the person standing outside the door to quickly enter. "Say again what you said to me, Frederick."
Frederick looked to be well into his forties or early fifties with strands of gray spaced through his black moustache.
"I saw them, Massa Cornelius. I saw them just now sneakin' lovin' outside one of the sheds in the yard.
"He's lyin!' The girl cried in defense.
"No, you're lyin'. You know you been sneakin' lovin' outside that shed," Frederick fired back.
"I believe Frederick," Cornelius said looking the young woman in the eyes. "Tomorrow, there'll be no nigger for you to defile yourself with."
"No, sir! Please! I'll stop! I promise you; I'll stop!" She cried, oceans of tears flowing from her eyes.
"Get outta here, Frederick!" Cornelius demanded before releasing the girl.
Frederick stepped out immediately and headed back to his assigned cabin.
"I should take you out there and whip you like any other nigger!" Cornelius was furious.
"I promise you, Massa…" the girl pleaded, "…I will stop talkin' to Andy. I will never say another word to him again."
The towering man turned away. "You will never see him again."
"Please, Massa Cornelius! Please!" She begged behind him.
He stopped suddenly in his tracks and looked at her. He pulled her close to him again and spoke in a whisper. "I told you before you are special to me, Karlen. I told you I wanted you for myself—ever since the day you set foot on my plantation. I don't look at you the same as I do every other nigger. I look at you as a person. I… love you."
Karlen was momentarily at a loss for words, then finding her voice again, she said: "Massa… you say you love me?"
Cornelius hung his head down.
"But Massa, you have a wife and I am nothin' but a slave for you and your family. How do you love me when you have your wife?"
Cornelius looked at her again. "I just do. Don't ask me why. I will not have you givin' your heart to that nigger out there. I want your heart—I want all of you."
"I never heard of a white planter sayin' they love a slave before," Karlen added, hoping she had misunderstood what he was saying.
"I will spare that boy's life on one condition…" Cornelius started.
"Yes, Massa. I will do anything. Anything!" Karlen repeatedly bowed her head.
"You will never speak to him again; never kiss again; never lay with him again."
"Massa, we never lay together."
Cornelius raised his hand and slapped her in the face. "Don’t you ever lie to me again; you hear me!" He yanked her by the arm. "I know you lay with him because Frederick said you did!"
"Frederick lie!" Karlen rebutted.
Cornelius shoved her onto the cot. "You do it again… and I'll kill him on the spot!"
He walked to the door, pushed it open and left.
Mira awoke suddenly, glancing over at the alarm clock that read 4:33am. She sat up in bed and slid both hands through her hair. Events of the dream still lingered in her mind. She was beginning to think that her dreams of the young, colored woman were not meaningless dreams, but that perhaps, they were telling a story. She lay back down and stretched out thinking there was only one way to find out.
* * * *
"Get up!" She shook Wade who had not yet rolled over in bed. It was unlikely for Mira to be up before him and more unlikely for Wade to still be asleep when their parents had left for work.
"What?! What?!" He yelled, pulling the sheet over his head.
"Wake up! We gotta go!" Mira pulled the sheet back down again.
Wade turned over and cracked his eyes. "Why are you bothering me? Can't you see I'm still sleeping?"
"Not anymore. Get up!" Mira shouted at the top of her lungs.
Wade raised his eyebrows and rubbed his eyes. "Where are we going?" He yawned.
"We're going to Cornelius's house."
"The Ferguson house?" Wade needed to be sure.
"Yeah. So get up and get dressed!"
Wade sat up in bed, unsure if he was hearing correctly. "You said we're going to the Ferguson house?"
"Yeah." Mira was standing up.
"Why? Aren't you afraid to go back there?"
"She's trying to tell me something, Wade. I have to find out what it is she wants me to know.
"
"Who? The woman?"
"Yes. Her." Mira proceeded to tell him about her recent dreams and how she was sure they were telling a story.
"So why go there—to the house? Why not wait and dream about the rest of the story?" Wade asked.
"Because dreaming about it is not going to give this woman the help she needs. I have to go back to where I first saw her which is in that house. I'm not sure what's supposed to happen, but I'm being pulled there. That's all I can say."
Wade heard the passion in Mira's voice. "Okay." He started to get up. "Get outta here and let me get dressed then!"
Mira waited for Wade to wash up, use the toilet and get dressed. It took about ten minutes. The time was 9:07 a.m. when they headed out the door.
* * * *
Mira led the way up the trail to the huge, white house in the middle of the overgrown property. Wade had struggled to keep up with her—still amazed that his sister was returning willingly to that house.
Mira walked through the door, slowly making the turn that led to the winding staircase. She cautiously took each step upward while hearing the same cracking noise below their feet as they did last time. Soon, they were at the top of the landing and Mira walked into what she knew was the master bedroom as witnessed in her dream. Wade followed her, this time, far more afraid than she was.
She headed over to the closet, stood at the opening and looked inside.
Just as Mira thought, the woman in the white, blood-stained dress was there near the back wall—the same sad look in her eyes that she had always seen.
"Have… you… seen… him?" The woman asked again, reaching out a hand toward Mira. Wade was standing at the door next to his sister, but saw nothing.
"Who?" Mira asked the pitiful woman.
"Have… you… seen… him?" She went again, as if not hearing the question Mira had posed.
"Please give me his name," Mira said to the woman, whose arm was still outstretched.
The woman looked down and pointed at the floor. Suddenly, a moving scene came into view and Mira stood in amazement as before her appeared the likes of a large TV screen. It was as if she were watching a movie. The handsome, colored man she had seen in her dream came into focus. He was being whipped against a steel pole—his back sliced with every stroke of the lash inflicted by another negro while the tall, white man known as 'Cornelius' looked on. Mira saw the young woman, who in the dream was identified as Karlen, crying uncontrollably as she stood nearby watching the horrid undertaking. At that point, Mira looked up at the ghost who was still standing in the far end of the closet. Her eyes were glued to the floor as the events partially explained her sadness. Mira looked down again and this time saw Karlen upstairs in the master bedroom of the large house with the man Cornelius and the plain-looking, white lady she had seen at the top of the stairs. Cornelius and the woman were arguing.
"I know you had been sleeping with her every time I turned my back!" The woman exclaimed. "Why don’t you leave this nigger girl alone? I've had enough. I want her out of this house!"
Karlen was standing silently before them with hands crossed in front of her lap. She was visibly disturbed by the accusations.
"This is my slave and I'll do as I wish," Cornelius riposted. "She's not going anywhere, so you're gonna have to deal with it!"
The woman walked up to him and looked him squarely in the eyes. "Cornelius Ferguson, have you forgotten that you have a wife?"
Cornelius looked away, glanced at Karlen, then back at his wife with an intensity that she had never witnessed in all the years they were married. "I haven't forgotten, Marlena. I do, however, recall being the head of this here house and this entire plantation for that matter, and I'm gonna do as I damn well please. You will leave this house before Karlen Key ever does. You understand me, woman?"
Karlen was stunned by what she had heard her master say to his own wife. She knew it was because of his feelings, though twisted, for her.
Disgusted and appalled, Marlena walked off, then Karlen said: "No Ma'am. Don't leave. Please stay here." Then she looked at Cornelius. "I love Andy. I love him with all my heart and soul. Don't do this ungodly deed on the count of me a poor slave. Love your wife, Massa Cornelius, because no matter what you do to me or Andy, my heart will forever be his."
Cornelius stood there for what seemed like an eternity, staring at Karlen with a rage that soon consumed him. Not only had she admitted to defying him by continuing to involve herself with the field slave, but she had declared that her heart—the thing he, himself, desired most—would forever belong to the negro. With venomous anger, he yanked his pocket knife out of his coat pocket and lunged toward Karlen. On spotting the knife, Karlen screamed and ran into the walk-in closet as Cornelius's large frame had prevented her from escaping through the bedroom door. He ran behind her, Marlena, his wife, standing in awe as she watched the events unfold before her. Karlen was trapped at the far end of the closet with eyes open wide—the look of terror—when Cornelius grabbed her, pinned her against the wall, and stabbed her over and repeatedly in the abdominal region. Karlen's screams saturated the air, but no one in the house or even nearby on the plantation dared to venture upstairs to investigate. Cornelius continued stabbing his young slave moments after the life had already left her body. Marlena finally went to him and held his shoulders from behind as his vest and pants were covered in the blood of his victim. His short, white hair was disheveled and his sweaty face looked pained. When Marlena looked into Cornelius's eyes, she knew the eyes staring back at her were not those of her husband.
Shocked and chilled to the bone, Mira looked up at the woman who happened to be standing in the very closet in which she was murdered many years before. Mira looked down again and saw two field slaves carrying out Karlen's bloody body, wrapped in sheets, onto the plantation grounds where they buried her. The vision on the floor then disappeared.
Wade had stood silently the whole time as he knew that his sister was seeing something that he could not see.
"Tell me what to do?" Mira said to the apparition, wanting desperately to help her now more than ever.
"Have… you… seen… him?"
Suddenly, Mira understood. "Don't worry. I'll get him for you, Karlen," she said, before grabbing her brother's hand. "Let's go. We have to find Andy."
"Andy?" Wade was confused as they descended the stairway together; Mira cautiously holding onto what was left of the rail.
"Andy is the man she was in love with," Mira explained as they headed back to the road.
"You got a last name?"
"No, I didn't. But there must be records we can search through to see what we can find."
"Wait. Let me get this straight: We have to look for who?" Wade asked.
Mira filled Wade in as they walked back to their house. She was eager to find the missing link to the puzzle of Karlen Key's life and was certain that link would somehow free Karlen from the state of limbo she was apparently trapped in.
"But you described the scene as being from the slavery days. That was over a hundred years ago, Mira. How could you tell that woman ghost that you will find that guy for her? Shouldn't he be dead by now?" Wade was sure he was thinking more logically than his sister at that point.
"I know, Wade. I think that even if I find a picture or something of Andy, that it will satisfy her to some extent."
"A picture? You think they took pictures of their slaves in those days?"
"I don’t know." Mira shook her head. "I just have to figure out something."
"We can check the State Records Office. One of my teachers last year said that they hold recent, but also very old records there on just about everybody. If you want, we can check it out," Wade said.
"It's worth a try," Mira replied.
Ten minutes later
"What in the world do you need to research?" Sara had picked up the line at the nurses' booth.
"I'll explain everything when you come," Mira said. "We have to get there before cl
osing time."
"But honey, by the time I get home, the Records Office will be closed for the day."
"Well, I'm going to have to get there some other way, Mom."
"You will do no such thing, young lady!" Sara was adamant. "No child of mine goes wandering into the street on their own, especially at your age. When I get home, we'll talk about it, okay?"
Mira conceded, but her hopes were dashed as she knew she would not get to check the records that day just as her mother had indicated. Her thoughts were held captive by the ghost of Cornelius's house and inwardly Mira knew that she too, would not be free—at least mentally—until Karlen was.
* * * *
Feeling an air of urgency while on the phone with Mira earlier that day, Sara made a quick stop at the market that afternoon, then dashed Beverley home before driving home as fast as she could.
She walked in the door with a grocery bag in hand and Mira was standing there waiting for her.
"What's this all about?" Sara rested the grocery on the counter before proceeding over to the sofa where they would talk. Wade walked into the room and sat on the couch opposite them.
"Mom, I've seen the woman again… several times since I woke you guys up that night," Mira confessed.
"You mean… the ghost from Cornelius's house," Sara asked curiously.
"Yes, Mom. That's it," Wade interjected.
"You said you've seen her several times? Where?" Sara was apprehensive. "In here?"
Mira nodded, much to Sara's dismay. "She needs me to help her," she added.
"Come on, Mira. What is this you're saying? You're actually saying that a ghost needs you to help her?"
"Yes, Mom," Mira replied.
"Help her do what?!" Sara's tone was not so gentle anymore.
"Listen Mom," Wade started again, "I know this whole thing seems odd, but you and I both know that Mira wouldn't make up something like this. She's been having dreams about this strange woman and we were at the house today and the woman showed Mira exactly what happened to her."
The Cornelius Saga Series (All 15 Books): The Ultimate Adventure-packed Supernatural Thriller Collection Page 6