She stalked up behind Shawn and grabbed a handful of his orange clown hair, then yanked his head backward. His arm, poised for a blow, fell as he stared at her.
She glared at his ugly frightened bully face. “You leave us alone!”
Holly had always been able to sway people. Even if Cherry hadn’t pointed it out a million times, she knew it. But this was different - she could see he was afraid of her. She let go of the ginger hair. “Get up.”
Without a word, the bully rose, but wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“Apologize to Keith.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
Keith, rubbing his jaw, scrambled to his feet, his eyes on Holly, staring. But all her attention remained on the rusty-headed bully with the squinty eyes and squished nose. She could see every speck of dirt on his shirt and in his hair. Every speck, and she’d never felt so angry in her life. “Look at me.”
Slowly, the terrified eyes met hers. He was trembling.
“Don’t you ever bother us again.”
The boy nodded as a wet stain spread on the front of his pants.
“Get out of here,” she ordered. “Never come back.”
Shawn took off like a shot.
Suddenly, Holly felt like jelly. She wobbled, dizzy, then Keith’s arm was around her. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.”
He helped her back to the shady spot and they sat down. Her legs went from trembly to weighing tons. “I don’t know what happened. I was just so mad!”
Keith handed her a fresh piece of prickly pear. “Have some.”
“They were afraid of me. I don’t know why.”
“You don’t know? You really don’t?”
She shook her head.
“What do you know?”
“I got really, really mad when that Shawn guy started whaling on you. He’s older and a foot taller than you. I was thinking what a little coward he was and I was so mad that it was like everything changed. It was like I was looking at him under a microscope or something.”
“Did you do that to Tony, too?”
“I barely noticed him. He took off running when I got mad at Shawn.”
“So, have you ever been mad like that, before?”
“Never. Never ever. I don’t know what came over me.” She stared into Keith’s eyes. “I really don’t.”
“Holly?”
“Yeah?”
“When you were mad, your eyes turned gold. I saw them change. They turned from blue to gold.”
“Really?” Holly had a hard time believing it. “I know I have little gold flecks in my eyes, but my eyes are blue.”
“Yeah, well, they changed. They got really bright and well, the gold throbbed or something.”
Holly nodded. “Okay, so all I know is that I can see 20/20, but I saw even better when I got mad.”
“You said like a microscope?”
“Yeah. Kinda like that.” She hesitated. “Keith, did you feel afraid of me at all?”
“No, but I knew you weren’t mad at me.” He chuckled. “You made Shawn wet his pants!”
She smiled, feeling better. “I guess I did. Isn’t that crazy, though?”
“You have a super power, like Superman or something.” He grinned. “Wonder Woman.”
“It was a little scary. What if it happens again?”
“I think you need to meet my grandfather.”
27
News of the Day
Ben Gower handed Brunhilde Stuffenphepper a white pharmacy bag. “Do you have any questions, Mrs. S?”
“Of course not, Mr. Gower! You’ve filled this prescription a hundred times.” Brunhilde huffed like a bum with a can of gasoline. “What do you take me for, a fool?”
“I have to ask. It’s my job, you know.”
The mayor’s wife huffed again and marched her tightly girdled bulk toward the drugstore’s exit.
That woman’s not happy unless she’s complaining. Ben remembered when she was a little girl coming in to buy Double Bubble and peppermint sticks. She’d tried to return half-eaten candy and chewed gum on a number of occasions, for reasons ranging from a lack of flavor to strange allergic reactions. Some people never change. Brunhilde was examining a rack of newspapers and magazines by the front door, her face pruned with disapproval. She clucked her tongue, looked up and caught Ben watching her.
“That Richard Nixon needs to shave!” she announced, then whipped around and pushed on the door at the same moment as someone outside tried to enter. As the cacophony of bells subsided, whoever was outside stepped back and pulled the door open for her.
“Hello, Mrs. Stuffenphepper.” Steve Cross tipped an invisible hat.
Brunhilde looked him up and down. “Gosh darned hippie. Get your gosh darned hair out of your eyes and maybe you won’t smack right into people!”
“You have a nice day, Mrs. S.” Steve let the door close behind Brunhilde then gave Ben a grin. “She’s in a mood.”
“That woman was born angry.”
“I wonder how her husband stands her.” Steve leaned against the counter.
“I’d like to be a fly on the wall in their bedroom.” Ben shook his head. “On second thought, maybe I wouldn’t.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Eddie’s straightening up the stockroom. Did you want to see him?”
“I came to see you.”
“Well, then, what can I do you for?”
“I need batteries for my flashlight. Four Cs will do it.”
Ben turned and picked up a pack, set it on the counter. “Got caught in the power outage?”
“I did.”
“How was it up at the hotel?”
“Not too bad. We have a big generator.”
“I noticed a lot of lights on up there.”
Steve nodded.
“How did Delilah weather things? She never did like the dark. Or earthquakes.”
“Not too well, I guess. I didn’t see her, but her granddaughter came down after Delilah refused to let her in.”
Ben nodded. “Dee’s a fine woman but even as a little girl she could never stand to let anyone see her frightened.”
Steve grinned. “You remember her?”
“Indeed I do.” He smiled, caught in a memory. “She was just a little thing, cute as a bug. Her big sister and her cousin Addie used to bring her down for ice cream now and then.” He shook his head. “Carrie was a beauty. I first started noticing her when she was about fifteen, ten years my junior, and I fell in love with her the summer before she died.” He smiled. “She brought Dee down almost every day that last summer and while the little girl had ice cream, Carrie and I would talk and talk. I think maybe she liked me, too.”
“I’ll just bet she did.”
“I was waiting for her to turn sixteen so I could ask her out. She did, but she didn’t come down that week, or ever again. I never saw her again, except for the funeral.” He roughly wiped away a tear before it could escape.
“You’ve never told me that story before. Thanks for sharing, Ben.”
“Guess it was your lucky day. You keep it mum.”
“I will.”
“Can I get you anything else?”
“Pack of Juicy Fruit.” Steve took it from the display and placed it next to the batteries. “What was Miss Delilah like back then?”
“All sunshine and pigtails, but she changed after her sister died. She became somber. Sad. And afraid. Wouldn’t speak a word. When her daddy sent her to that aunt back east, I thought it was a real good thing.” Ben smiled wistfully. “And I guess it was. Look at her now.”
Steve nodded. “She’s a lovely woman, and a good boss. Ben?”
“What?”
“Okay, may I ask…” He hesitated.
“Spit it out.”
“I know you were a delivery boy back in the day.”
“I was.”
“You must’ve met a lot of people.”
“Indeed I did. For better and worse.”
Steve
leaned closer and looked him in the eye. “Pearl Abbott. The head nurse up at the Clementine Hospital. Did you ever meet her?”
Gooseflesh tickled Ben’s neck. “I did. Horrible woman. Met her a number of times and always came away with a bruised arm. We called her Pinching Pearl.”
“She pinched?”
“Sure did. Did it to anyone who was unlucky enough to be near her and couldn’t defend themselves. Kids, patients. The woman would grab your arm in that iron grip of hers and stare at you with those beady little black eyes, just waiting for you to whimper. I refused, and more than once, I came home with her fingerprints embedded in my arm or shoulder.” He shook his head. “That was one mean woman. So why are you asking about her?”
“It’ll sound crazy.”
“Mr. Gower?” Eddie came out from the stockroom. “We’re almost out of toilet paper. Should I order- hey, Steve!”
“Hey, Eddie.”
“Put in the usual order, Eddie. We can’t have the citizens of Brimstone running out of necessities.”
“Okay.” Eddie looked from his cousin to Ben. “What’s up?”
“Just buying some batteries.”
“Who’s Pearl Abbott?”
“I don’t pay you to eavesdrop, Eddie.” Ben tried to sound stern.
“I didn’t mean to. Who is she?”
“She was the head nurse at the hospital a long time ago. Now, scoot.”
Reluctantly, Eddie turned to leave, then paused. “Is she one of the ghosts at the hotel?”
“Why do you ask?”
Eddie shrugged. “I like ghost stories. She is, isn’t she?”
“Sorry, I’ve never heard a thing about her haunting the hotel.”
“Get back to work, Eddie,” Ben ordered.
They waited until the boy left, then Ben said, “What happened?”
Steve leaned in. “I told you that Holly came down after the earthquake last night.”
“I recall.”
“She’s like Eddie - loves ghost stories. I told her how we hear the elevator move by itself sometimes and that it’s rumored it’s the ghost of Jack Purdy.”
“I recall that story,” Ben said. “So, what happened last night?”
“Well, the elevator moved. But it didn’t; it happened while the power was out.”
“Scare her much?”
“No, she loved it.”
“Good.”
“But then, the cab door opened. We both saw that - but Holly saw more. She saw a woman inside the cab. Described her. Ben, she saw Pearl Abbott. She picked her out of a photo album after that.”
More goosebumps. “Maybe she’s heard stories about Pinching Pearl.”
“I wasn’t lying to Eddie when I said there are no stories about Pearl Abbott haunting the hotel. And Holly hasn’t been here long enough to hear any.”
“True.” Ben nodded. “Holly was here with her grandmother the other day. She looked just like Carrie at that age. Right down to her eyes.”
“You mean the gold flecks?”
“The blue and the gold. Same piercing blue.” He paused. “When the light hit Holly’s eyes, you could see more gold shimmering in both of them. A lot more than I’ve ever seen before.”
“More than Carrie?”
Ben’s voice darkened. “And her great-great-granddaddy.”
“It’s inherited. I get it.”
“Adeline Chance has them, too.”
“She’s Carrie and Delilah’s cousin.”
“I know.”
“What’s the point?”
“Well, those eyes are special. Rumor was Carrie and Addie had certain talents because of them, that maybe they could see things others couldn’t.”
Steve considered. “Maybe.”
Ben rubbed his chin. “Henry Hank dabbled in the dark arts and rumor was that he could do things. And he had that secret society of his.”
“That’s why he called himself the Brimstone Beast,” Steve said. “Delusions of power.”
“I hope they were delusions.” Ben’s voice was still, somber.
“Do you believe Carrie and Addie could see or do things?”
“Well, I’m not clear on that. It wasn’t much talked about.” Ben paused and looked Steve square in the eye. “But Addie once told me she can see ghosts. You might ask her about that.”
28
Lessons
Breathless, Holly made it to Miss Delilah’s penthouse with thirty seconds to spare. She’d sprinted back from the cemetery at quarter of four, used a washcloth to wipe off her face and arms, then slipped into clean clothes - a white skirt and purple short-sleeved blouse that her grandmother had bought her in Sedona.
Now she sat at the tall upright piano; her grandmother was going to give her an “unofficial” lesson while they waited for a music primer to show up in the mail, and Holly was excited. Carved art nouveau flowers twined along its edges and the music board was a hand-carved work of art, too beautiful to cover up with a music book. The walls of the music room were covered in leafy floral tapestries and a harp rested in a corner, a harp seat upholstered in purple velvet beside it. A small white marble table with two ebony chairs rested halfway across the room. Under the window was a chaise lounge upholstered in the same deep purple as the harp seat. Several leather club chairs clustered together in a corner. The place of honor belonged to a baby grand that Holly instinctively knew not to touch.
“Good afternoon, Holly. You were very nearly late.” Miss Delilah stepped into the room. She wore a simple navy dress with small gold earrings. Reading glasses on a golden chain dangled around her neck. “Were you aware of that?”
“I’m sorry, but I did get here on the dot. I wasn’t late.”
“It’s never wise to cut things so close. I want you to remember that in the future.”
“I will.”
Delilah nodded. “Stand up, child. I want to look you over.”
Holly rose, fighting back an urge to rebel against being ordered around. It’s just how she is. She’s a movie star, so she orders everybody around.
“Um-hmm. Turn around.”
Holly obliged and felt Miss Delilah lightly tug her ponytail. “Your hair is dusty, Holly.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to brush it.”
“This needs washing, not just brushing.” Delilah picked something from her hair then touched her shoulder to turn her back around. She held up a twig. “Is this your new hair ornament?”
Holly saw a slight - very slight - smile on her grandmother’s face and smiled back. “It’s the latest thing.”
Delilah tried to look stern, but failed. Slipping the twig into a pocket, she let her face relax. “Let’s have a look at your hands.”
Oh crap! She’d forgotten all about cleaning her nails. She held them out for inspection, palms up.
“Very good. Now turn them over.”
Reluctantly, she obeyed.
“There’s dirt under your nails.”
“Not much.”
“Any dirt is unacceptable. Don’t ever show up with dirty nails again.” Delilah took her hands and held them closer. “That’s red dust under your nails. Holly? Where were you and what have you been doing?”
“I was at the cemetery.”
“And what were you doing there of all things? Digging graves?”
Making a bully pee his pants. “Just looking around. I like history.”
“Well, you won’t find much of it there - and you shouldn’t go there alone.”
“I wasn’t alone.”
“Becky Granger reported that you went there with a boy.” Delilah’s eyebrow rose. “Is that true?”
Tattletale. “Yes. Becky wouldn’t go and Keith Hala wanted to.”
Delilah nodded, looking thoughtful. “I know his grandfather, Abner. He’s done some very nice ironwork for us. I suppose that’s all right.” She paused to point at a half-hidden door. “There’s a bathroom. You can wash your hands there.”
Holly started to rise.
“One more thing.”
Holly turned. “What?”
“How did you get those?”
She was looking at her arms. Holly had forgotten the bruises when she’d dressed and a couple poked out from under the short sleeves of her shirt. “Uh, I don’t know.”
“Push your sleeve up higher so I can see.”
Stomach knotting, Holly obliged. Delilah took her arm gently, turning it this way and that, careful not to touch the tender purple marks. “How did you get these, Holly?”
“The earthquake, I guess.”
Delilah gently rolled Holly’s sleeve back down. “Sit.” She nodded at the piano bench.
Holly sat and Delilah joined her. “Tell the truth, Holly.”
Holly couldn’t tell the truth; Delilah would never believe her, not in a billion years. She shook her head. “I really don’t know.”
“Holly, did your mother do this to you?”
“No.”
Delilah nodded. “They’re too fresh, or I’d think you were covering for her. So, who did?”
Holly felt hot tears trying to fill her eyes and fought them down. “I woke up this morning and they were just there. That’s why I think it was the earthquake.”
“Those are fingerprints, Holly. Don’t think me foolish enough to not know that.”
One traitorous tear slid down her cheek. She wiped it roughly away. Holly wanted to tell her grandmother about Pearl Abbott and the dream, but she didn’t dare. She’d think she was lying or crazy. “I don’t know, Miss Delilah.”
“Someone did this to you. You’re covering up for them.”
“I’m not.”
Her grandmother’s strict expression dissolved as a second tear escaped. Delilah wiped it away then pulled Holly to her breast, held her there, stroking her hair. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you, Holly.”
Despite her fear, Holly fell into her grandmother’s arms, tears flowing freely. She tried to stop them, but couldn’t. And it wasn’t because she didn’t dare tell her a ghost had done it. It was because no one had ever held her so close before. No one.
29
Dinner at Devine’s
Brimstone Page 19