Henry’s body was set up in the parlor and once again the boys were jostled around as time sped up and slowed down. It was like someone fast-forwarding through the boring parts of a movie, and then slowing down for the interesting part. At Henry’s wake, Sam heard visitors’ condolences and whispers about the complete disappearance of the Dragonfly.
“There’s nothing left to salvage,” one man said. “It’s like the sea took her away.”
Some echoed Mrs. Wellbottom’s question of why the Dragonfly left port while others whispered they’d heard Harold say it was Captain Stover’s doing.
“The stable master said they had to put Mr. Harold’s horse to pasture because he rode it so hard getting up here from Wilmington,” another man said.
“I knew it was Harold who started the rumors about Captain Stover,” Will said, his hands balled into fists.
“Another instance of a gut feeling being correct,” Sam said, his voice warbling as time sped up to the arrival of Harold Humbolt later that afternoon.
The expression on Harold’s face showed no sorrow. Instead, Sam detected a sense of smug satisfaction, as if he’d finally gotten something he’d been wanting for a very long time.
Shortly after Harold arrived, a courier delivered a letter to Rebecca. Ghostly Rebecca beckoned Sam closer and he could see it was addressed to Henry with a return address of Wilmington, North Carolina.
Rebecca saw Harold staring at the letter and walked over to Henry’s desk. Keeping her back to Harold, she reached for the wooden box that Sam had seen at the museum. She pushed a specific series of H’s on the box until a hidden compartment slid open. She tucked the letter inside and pushed the compartment back into place. After she heard the faint click that let her know the letter was safe, she returned to sit by Henry. She didn’t see Harold take the box out of the room.
“Come on. I want to see where he’s taking that,” Sam said, heading out into the front hall.
Harold stepped out on the porch and signaled a young boy standing next to an elaborate carriage. The boy raced to the porch and Harold handed the box to him, telling him to take it to his house.
“That’s why the box was found at Harold’s house,” Will said. “I always wondered how it got there.”
Time moved quickly again as mourners arrived with both food and condolences. At one point Mrs. Wellbottom carried in a cake, filling the room with a sweet and spicy aroma.
“I bet that’s the blackberry jam cake mentioned in the article,” Sam said, taking a deep breath.
“There’s hardly room for it on the table with all the food,” Will said. “People must have really liked him. This house is crammed full.”
Mrs. Wellbottom opened the porch doors to let in some fresh air and allow the mourners to expand out onto the porch. In Sam’s mind, it felt like only minutes had passed since the storm and he was surprised to see the sun sparkling on the now calm ocean. A steady ocean breeze blew in through the windows and doors, but even with that, the house was stifling hot.
Time jumped ahead to sunset. The crowd was gone and only Rebecca, Genny, Harold, and the Wellbottoms remained. Rebecca finally agreed to rest and Genny went home. The Wellbottoms were busy in the dining room and kitchen, and Harold was alone in the parlor.
“The article did say he took one of the night shifts of the wake,” Will said.
“With it being summer, they probably didn’t have the three full days of viewing,” Sam added. “Besides, it looked like everyone in town already came by to pay their respects.”
Harold pulled the doors to the parlor closed and locked himself in. He sneered at Henry’s body and quickly moved to the desk. “I know you kept a copy of your will here. You kept copies of everything,” he mumbled out loud as he began rummaging through the desk, systematically at first, then sending papers flying.
“Why does he want the will?” Will whispered.
“We know he had debts. He probably needs to tell his lenders how much money he’ll be getting,” Sam replied.
“Maybe that’s where he’s been all day, trying to get the lenders off his back until the will is read,” Will said.
Harold found a revolver in the bottom drawer and set it on top of the desk. Then he pulled the top drawer out of the frame, tossing it aside. “There it is!” Harold said grabbing an envelope attached to the bottom of the drawer. To my dearest Rebecca was written on it. Harold scoffed. “You were always such a soft-hearted fool. And what did it get you? You’re dead and thanks to your hard work I can pay off my debts and enjoy all the finest things life has to offer.”
Harold broke the seal on the envelope and started reading. His eyes widened and his face burned with rage. “How dare you!” he yelled turning over tables and yanking paintings off the wall until he stopped in front of the family portrait, snorting like a raging bull.
“You think your absurd will can protect them? I’ll fight it every step of the way,” Harold said with a growl. “Everything will be mine—like it should be. And your precious family? I’ll take care of them.”
Harold turned on his heels and stomped towards the chess set, a wave of heat washing over the boys as he passed near them.
“I’ll take care of them as easily as I take care of these,” Harold said grabbing the two queens off the chessboard and smashing them against the fireplace so hard their heads snapped off. “These are just as worthless as your wife and daughter. They won’t carry on the Humbolt name. They are nothing.”
“Everything alright in there, Mr. Harold?” Mr. Wellbottom called from outside the parlor.
Harold took a few deep breaths to compose himself and walked towards the door. “Everything’s fine. I just knocked over the chess set,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm while his face twitched in anger.
“Well, alright then,” Mr. Wellbottom said.
Harold was standing close to the boys and they could feel heat pulsing off him.
Will tugged on Sam’s jacket. “Th-th-that’s the same heat I felt when I came here as a kid. It scared me then. It scares me even more now.”
Sam turned towards the family portrait where a whirring sound, like a small tornado, had started. “Look! There’s something coming out of the portrait,” Sam said nudging Will. They watched the ghostly blur quickly take the form of Henry. “I think Harold just got Henry’s ghost very angry.”
Henry’s ghost headed straight towards Harold, whose sneer quickly turned into an expression of terror. Garbled words came from his mouth and he turned and ran to the desk. Grabbing the revolver, he aimed at Henry’s ghost and started shooting. The bullets went straight through the ghostly form into the wall, but the ghost kept coming. When Harold ran out of bullets he threw the gun and raised his arms to protect himself.
Sam and Will felt a cool breeze as Henry’s ghost passed by them and moved closer and closer to Harold.
Mr. Wellbottom was yelling and banging on the door now, but Harold didn’t answer. He just stared in disbelief at Henry’s ghost and kept backing away. The floor was littered with papers and furniture and his foot slipped when he stepped on the heads of the broken queens. Falling backwards, his head cracked against the fireplace and his body crumpled to the floor. Henry’s ghost paused, then floated back towards the portrait.
While Mr. Wellbottom was trying to break down the door, Sam watched a dark red form rise from Harold’s body. It surged towards Henry’s ghost, grabbing it before he could slip back into the portrait. When the two opposing energies collided, they twisted around each other in battle and the boys felt Harold’s hot anger and Henry’s cool strength alternately as they passed by.
“I guess Libby was right. Good and evil locked in battle,” Sam said to himself as much as to Will. “The difference in the temperatures of these two spirits is much like that found in the development of a strong thunderstorm.”
“Or a tornado,” Will added. �
��That’s what they look like to me.”
When Mr. Wellbottom finally burst through the doors, he found the room in shambles and Harold dead on the floor.
Chapter 22
Time sped up again, but not so fast that the boys didn’t see the doctor arrive, or the reluctance of anyone to stay in the room. Several days passed before time slowed again. The lawyer arrived and ghostly Rebecca signaled Sam and Will to move to the front room.
“I, Henry Walter Humbolt, being of sound mind and body, leave all my worldly possessions to my beloved wife, Rebecca. This includes our house and all that is in it and all the land it is on. I only give to her what is rightfully hers, as I would have none of these without her.
“I entrust my shares of Humbolt & Humbolt Shipping Company equally to my wife, Rebecca, and my daughter, Genevieve Stover. I confer my blessing on their decision making, and trust they will be extended the same respect as I have been a recipient of.”
“I guess that’s what got Harold so angry,” Will said.
The lawyer laid down the will and said calmly. “Mr. Henry Humbolt was of sound mind and body when he drafted his will. You will find no one to deny it. This will is valid.”
Time sped up again then slowed when Rebecca was standing by the front door with her suitcases. While Mr. and Mrs. Wellbottom carried her suitcases out, Rebecca looked around sadly and said, “My dearest Henry, I will keep our treasure safe. I promise.” When the door shut behind Rebecca and the Wellbottoms, the ghostly Rebecca and Genny headed back to the parlor and stood near the portrait.
Now time started moving forward with frightening speed. Sam watched the leaves outside the window change from gold to brown to green so many times it was impossible to keep track. Seasons changed in milliseconds, the vines swirling up and around the house, covering the windows in a matter of minutes. Then time began to slow down. There was a flash of a much younger Will standing by the back porch followed by Sam and Rocky at the window a few seconds later.
“That was me when I was a kid! And then you guys,” Will said. “We must be near the present.”
“Look over there!” Sam said. “Do you see all the ghosts by the portrait?”
“Wow!” Will said. “I hope they’re good ones like Rebecca and Genny.”
“I’m just glad I’m not the only one seeing them,” Sam said. Time slowed to a stop and he heard a young girl’s voice just like he had on that first day. “Help us. Please help us. You are our last hope.”
“Umm, did you just hear something?” Will asked.
“Yes. It sounds like when Genny spoke to me the first time.” Sam looked over the ghostly group and felt tension building in his jaw. It crept down his neck and stretched down to his clenched fists. “Why am I their last hope? I’m not even remotely related to the Humbolt or Stover families. What do I have that they need?”
“There’s got to be something special about you,” Will said. “Are you sure you don’t know how to talk to ghosts? They seem to be able to talk to you.”
“You’re right. Why didn’t I think of that?” Sam turned to Rebecca and Genny. “What is it you need my help with?”
Rebecca floated forward. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask. Your desire to help was needed before we could explain. I’ve been waiting for my beloved Henry to join me for so very long, but Harold will not release him. As each day passes our ties to each other weaken. The generations of a family need to stay together to stay strong.” She turned towards the other ghosts. “These are the wives and mothers, brothers and sisters of the men on the Dragonfly. They have been waiting for their loved ones to crossover too. The lies told about the shipwreck hold them here while Harold holds Henry here.”
“So it was the crew of the Dragonfly I heard when I was snorkeling?” Sam asked.
Rebecca nodded. “Yes. We sent them to help you so you could help us. You see, it is this special anniversary of the wreck that has allowed us to bring you through time. But if you fail to release Henry and the crew, we will not have another chance for another 100 years. Please send Harold on his way and expose the truth about the shipwreck so all may join us here. Please.”
“But I don’t know how,” Sam said, his voice full of frustration.
“Please try,” Genny begged, her ghostly eyes meeting Sam’s. “You know you can’t leave this problem unsolved.”
Sam couldn’t help smiling. “You’re right. I can’t,” he said. “Will, I need to talk things out to help me understand, so just listen, okay? Rebecca and Genny brought us through time, making sure we saw specific things like the letter arriving from Wilmington, how to open the box to get to it, and how Harold died. We don’t know what’s in the letter but it’s logical that we’re supposed to open the box and read it. Maybe it’s the key to setting Henry and the crew free. We also watched Harold when he locked himself in the parlor at the wake, which showed us how and why Henry and Harold became locked in battle.”
The fighting brothers passed by, the alternating hot-tempered heat and cool calm of their battle washing over Sam and Will. “At first Henry was fighting for his family, but since they have become ghosts, Henry should have been able to cross over. Something else is keeping him locked to Harold.”
“Didn’t Rebecca say Harold is holding him here?” Will interjected.
“That’s right! Harold is the key. Before I can figure out how to get Harold to release Henry, I need to know what force Harold is using to hold them together.” Sam closed his eyes, remembering the portrait in the library and how the girls felt Harold was bad and Henry was good. Libby suggested the two were locked in a battle of good versus evil…a light spirit and a dark spirit...a cool calm and a hot temper. He rummaged through his mind for clues all the way from old sayings to physics, and then…there it was.
“Opposites! Of course,” Sam shouted, his eyes popping open.
“What?” Will asked.
“It’s physics, but applied to ghosts. Harold and Henry are opposites and opposites attract. That’s what locks the brothers together.”
“Okay. But how do we get them apart?”
“More physics. You need a force that’s stronger than the force holding them together to pull them apart.” Sam concentrated on physics theories and equations, running down the long list in his mind until he hit on one that might work.
“The force is equal to mass times acceleration and the summation of the forces is equal to zero. I need to think outside the box, but with inside the box knowledge.””
“What are you talking about?” Will asked.
“We need to find something strong enough to pull the negative force, Harold, at the same time we have something strong enough to pull Henry away so he can join his family.”
“I still don’t get it,” Will said, shaking his head.
“The brothers are held together like the opposing poles of a magnet. We have to find something strong enough to pull them apart,” Sam explained.
“Okay. That I understand. But what would be strong enough?” Will asked. “All Harold ever cared about was money.”
“Exactly! I bet Harold loved money even more than he hated his brother. That’s why he badgered Henry to make him a partner in the first place… to get more money. Harold was down at the beach when Henry and Bart were pulled from the ocean. He must have overheard them talking about treasure and keeping it safe. Harold didn’t get the shipping company and we can’t change that. But maybe we can lure him away by telling him we know where the Dragonfly’s treasure is. We know Harold stole the box with the note in it, so he probably thought it had something to do with the treasure.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Will said. “But how are you going to do that?”
Sam thought a moment. “Harold is the reason all these ghosts haven’t been able to crossover, including himself. It’s just like Libby said, he’s stuck here because he has unfinished business—find
ing the Dragonfly’s treasure. Captain Stover and his crew are stuck here because they want something made right—clearing Captain Stover’s name.” Sam looked over at Will. “If we can convince Harold that we know where the treasure is, I bet he’ll release Henry to go find it. Maybe we can get him to boast about sending the Dragonfly out in the storm and that will release the other ghosts.”
“How are we going to do that? We don’t know where the treasure is.”
Sam heard a familiar ding and checked his phone. “It’s a text from Rocky saying Harold searched for treasure along the beach but didn’t find any. When Harold left, the whole scene disappeared like it was sucked up a straw. Now he’s on a sunny beach with his raincoat on.”
“Your friend saw all of the past he needs to see,” Rebecca said. “It is in the present that you will need his help.”
“You’re right,” Sam said. “Will, I’m texting Rocky to bring Rebecca’s box to the house. Can you text your sister to give it to him?”
As the boys texted, the ghostly whirlwind kept spinning. Even at a distance, its force was powerful enough to tug on their clothes.
“How are we going to get Rocky passed the whirlwind?” Will asked.
“When you told me about your dad not being able to tear down the house, I realized there must be multiple ghostly forces at work. These two men did not turn off your dad’s bulldozer,” Sam said turning towards Rebecca and Genny. “That would be your doing?”
Rebecca nodded. “That is true. We reached out to Will’s father but he did not want to help us and destroying the house would have destroyed our chance of being with our loved ones.” She smiled. “We let you close because you passed our test.”
“Test?” Sam asked. “What test?”
“We’ve been watching you since you arrived. You have a strong need to understand things and you don’t rest until you do. That’s why we choose you.”
A Ghostly Twist Page 13