It was their first weekly dinner together and Holly sat across from her grandmother at the hotel restaurant. Devine’s was the fanciest, most beautiful restaurant she’d ever been in, about a million times nicer than even the Hamburger Hamlet back in Los Angeles.
They sat in a booth by a window where they could see the lights of Brimstone twinkling between wind-whipped trees. The lighting in Devine’s was soft - each table sat beneath its own milk glass art deco pendant lamp and a sea of red hurricane glasses flickered like fireflies throughout the dining room. Holly watched the candle flame on their table as it threw light and shadows over the salt and pepper shakers. She touched the napkin in her lap to make sure it hadn’t fallen; like the tablecloth, it was linen, and so nice Holly didn’t want to get it dirty.
Delilah cut a dainty bite of prime rib, dipped it in horseradish sauce. “How’s your steak?”
Holly swallowed. “It’s the best steak I’ve ever had.”
“And how many steaks have you had, Holly?”
Her cheeks heated. “Just this one.” She forked another piece. “Cherry says you have to be grown-up to appreciate steak.”
Delilah’s brow rose. “And is she correct?”
“No. She’s wrong. This is so much better than hamburger!”
Delilah laughed. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Thank you, Miss Delilah.” Holly tried a bite of broccoli. She’d never tasted it fresh before and was surprised she liked it.
“Holly, I was very impressed with you today.” Delilah sipped red wine. “You said you’ve never had a piano lesson before, but you seem to know a little about music. You can read notes. Did you teach yourself?”
“I took band for a semester last year, but Cherry couldn’t afford to pay rent on the clarinet anymore, so I had to quit.”
“That’s a shame. I’m going to order a beginning piano book - something with melodies in it in addition to the primer - and as soon as it arrives we’ll continue your lessons for as long as you’re here.”
Holly felt tears prickle her eyes again, and looked down at her plate. “I hope I never have to go back to Van Nuys,” she told her steak.
Silence, and then Delilah patted her hand. “We’ll see.”
Holly looked up, hopeful. “What?”
“As I told you, if your mother wants to take you back to California, I can’t stop her. But she might be willing to let you stay a little while if …”
Holly watched Delilah. She was gazing at the window, lost in thought. “If what?”
Delilah looked at her, but her eyes weren’t soft. Holly saw something that looked like determination.
“If you’re here long enough for school to begin in the fall, perhaps I can persuade your mother to allow you to stay for the school year.”
“Really?”
Don’t tell her such things! Delilah knew herself well and her behavior around Holly was atypical. Leading the girl to believe she might be able to stay on was not only inconsiderate, it was foolish. Delilah didn’t care to take on the responsibility of a child.
Her granddaughter was staring at her with those big blue eyes that glittered so like Carrie’s had. They were filled with hope and expectation. No, I won’t be swayed. Delilah turned her voice brusque. “I shouldn’t suggest such things, Holly, not without talking to your mother first. I have no idea what or how she thinks.” She sipped water from a crystal goblet. “And I have to think about the burden it would be on me to act as your guardian, if she did agree. It’s not an easy decision.”
“It’s okay. I understand.” Holly pushed a piece of potato around on her plate, then ventured, “I know how Cherry thinks.”
“Enlighten me.” Delilah was genuinely curious.
Holly looked up. Light reflected on the tiny motes of gold suspended in her blue irises. “She mostly thinks about making a movie that will make her famous like you. It’s sort of like she’s jealous or something.” Holly raised questioning brows. “Do you know what I mean?”
Delilah studied the girl. She was mature beyond her years; Charlotte had robbed her of her childhood. “How old are you, Holly?”
“I just turned eleven. I start sixth grade in September.”
Delilah considered. The little girl showed no outward signs of adolescence yet, but perhaps it didn’t matter. Perhaps it was for the best. “I think you’re old enough to understand something about your mother and her movies.”
Holly nodded.
“Your mother doesn’t make the same kind of movies that I did.” Delilah looked into those fathomless eyes. “She makes what are called ‘adult films.’ Have you heard that term before?”
Holly nodded. You mean like The Pawnbroker?”
“No, dear.” Delilah hid her shock that Holly knew of the movie. “The Pawnbroker is a legitimate film that has a little nudity in it. Adult films are almost entirely … nude. There’s … a lot of hugging and kissing.”
Holly nodded somberly. “I figured that’s why she doesn’t want me to see her movies. Sometimes, I overhear her say things on the phone to Larry.”
“Larry?”
“Larry Zimmer. He’s her agent.”
“And what have you overheard?”
Holly shrugged, embarrassed. “Just stuff about kissing and things.”
“Things?”
Holly blushed fiercely. “Um.”
Delilah patted her hand. “Tell me, Holly. I need to know what you know. I promise I won’t be mad.”
“Okay, well. I heard her telling Larry she didn’t want to take it up her ass.”
Delilah swallowed her shock. “Do you know what that meant?”
“Not exactly, but it sounds gross.” Holly paused, searched Delilah’s eyes. “I don’t want to know.”
“You’re right, Holly. It is gross, and you don’t need to know.” She forced a tight smile. “I don’t care to know. The thing is, adult films are always gross.” She hesitated. “But I must commend your mother for keeping you in the dark as well as she has.” Delilah meant it. At least Charlotte was making some effort to protect her daughter.
“Does she make adult films because she can’t make regular films?”
Delilah answered carefully. “It’s very difficult to break into legitimate cinema. My guess is your mother started making those adult films because she needed money.” Delilah paused. “Once you get a reputation for making adult films, no one in legitimate cinema will hire you.”
Holly nodded, staring at her plate.
Delilah heard herself say, “It’s not good for a little girl to spend time around the people your mother works with.”
Holly looked up now, her eyes sparkling like a clear blue creek full of gold dust. “So it would be good to be here, away from those people, right Miss Delilah? I don’t think Cherry would mind at all, except when she has to do dishes or vacuum.”
Delilah realized the girl wasn’t looking for sympathy, but simply stating facts.
How do I say no? Aunt Beatrice Lane’s kind face filled her mind. “We’ll see, Holly. We’ll see. Now, eat up.”
Holly’s appetite returned and between bites she first chattered about movies and books, then went on in detail about the Brimstone history lesson that Steve had given her, enthusiastically and graphically reciting the story of the death of the caretaker who had his head crushed beneath the elevator so long ago.
Delilah couldn’t help smiling. “Why do you like such gruesome stories, Holly?”
“It’s history.” She studied Delilah. “But Steve says nobody has ever seen Jack Purdy’s ghost. Have you?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“I think maybe it’s a different ghost,” Holly said.
“Why do you think it isn’t Jack Purdy?”
Holly looked lost in thought. “I don’t know.” Finally, a smile crept to her lips. “But you know what?”
“What?”
“I think I’ve been visited by Miss Annie Patches.”
Delilah smiled at the girl�
��s answer, but suspected she was hiding something. “Our resident feline ghost. Tell me.”
“She woke me from a nightmare by walking on me. I heard her purr, too. Later I saw her eyes. They’re gold.”
Delilah smiled. “It sounds to me as if you’ve met a delightful spirit.”
“You believe me?” Holly seemed surprised.
“I’ve heard stories about the ghost cat so many times that I think there’s something to it.” She called the waiter over and ordered Darjeeling tea for both of them. “If I were you, I’d be very happy this is the ghost who decided to visit.”
“I am. I hope she comes back lots. I love cats.” Holly paused. “Have you ever seen a ghost here, Miss Delilah?”
She hesitated. “I’ve experienced a few odd things since I moved in. I’ve heard the elevator moving when it’s still. One night, I heard what sounded like footsteps walk right by me when no one was there, and once, I even saw a pen just float off the registration desk right in front of my eyes.” She smiled. “But no, I’ve never actually seen a ghost. My big sister, Carrie, told me she could see ghosts.”
“And you believed her?’
Delilah had been so young that she wasn’t sure what she believed, but wanted Holly to continue talking. “Yes, I did. Tell me, Holly, what else did you see?”
“Last night, after the earthquake, when I was in the lobby, we heard the elevator come down. Only it didn’t really - it was just like you said. Steve said it couldn’t work because the power was out, but we heard it - and it opened. Did you see it open?”
“No, I didn’t. Go on, Holly.”
“That’s when I saw a ghost in the elevator - but it wasn’t Jack Purdy.”
“So that’s why you don’t believe he’s the elevator ghost?”
“Yes. But Steve didn’t see her at all.”
“Her?”
“A mean-looking woman in an old-time black dress and apron with a red cross pinned on it.”
A drop of fear trickled down Delilah’s spine, but she didn’t know why. “What did she do?”
“She stared at me. I know that sounds weird, but it’s never happened before.”
“What hasn’t happened before, Holly? I don’t understand.”
“Staring. The other ghosts I’ve seen didn’t see me. Not at all. They were like pictures.”
“How many have you seen?”
“Just a couple. This little girl on the swing at the park a few times and once I saw an old man sitting on a bench at the bus stop near our apartment. He looked like he was reading a book. I asked him what it was, but he didn’t answer, so I touched his arm - he wasn’t really there at all. He faded away.”
The girl spoke so matter-of-factly that Delilah thought maybe she really had seen these things. Like Carrie. Stranger things have happened. “Those are the only ghosts you’ve seen?”
Holly nodded. “Until last night. That mean woman ghost could see me and it was really creepy. I’ve never been scared like that before. I sure was glad when the elevator went back upstairs.” A small smile. “I mean the ghost elevator went upstairs, because the real one hadn’t really come down in the first place. Steve checked.”
“Could you see where it went?”
Holly shook her head. “No, it kind of faded away after a couple seconds. You can ask Steve. He saw that part, too.”
“But he didn’t see the ghost?”
“No.”
“Holly, maybe you imagined it. After all, it was a pretty scary night, what with the earthquake.”
She hesitated. “I don’t think so, Miss Delilah. I described her to Steve and we looked through the photo albums and we found her.”
“You did?” Another unexplainable pinch of fear.
A somber nod. “Her name was Pearl Abbott and she was the head nurse. In the picture, she was with Henry Hank Barrow. Steve says he was your grandfather and my great-great-grandfather? Miss Delilah? Are you okay?”
A tall woman with a ramrod straight back and black hair pulled back so severely that it tugged her skin too tight over her cheekbones. A woman in black with beetle-black eyes who always stood next to Grandfather and stared through me. The memory shot into her mind as if it had always been there. How did I forget her? How?
“Miss Delilah?” Holly’s worried eyes bored into hers.
Delilah took a deep breath and looked at Holly. “I think I remember her.”
“You knew her?”
“I was very small, much younger than you, but I remember seeing her with my grandfather.” She paused. “Your great-great-grandfather. I don’t remember anything about her except that she terrified me even more than he did.” She forced a smile. “That was probably just because of the way she looked. I’ll bet she was a nice lady. She just needed to smile more.”
Holly’s somber eyes questioned every word and then she stated flatly, “She wasn’t nice.”
“Holly, dear, I’m not questioning that you saw her ghost, but I doubt she was looking at you. She had piercing eyes - that’s what I remember most. It just felt like she was staring at you, don’t you think?”
Holly contemplated the idea. “Maybe.”
But Delilah knew she was unconvinced.
“Has anyone ever said they’ve seen her before?” her granddaughter asked. “I mean, is Pearl Abbott one of the ghosts they tell stories about?”
“No,” Delilah said gratefully. “I’ve never heard or read about her ghost being seen here.” She paused. “I think, Holly, that your eyes might be special. That’s what my sister told me about hers. She said she could see ghosts because of the gold in her eye. And-” She cut the comment off as she remembered her grandfather’s eyes.
“And what?” Holly prompted as the waiter set their teacups down.
There’s no sense lying about it. “Your great-great-grandfather. He had similar eyes.”
“Did he see ghosts, too?”
“I don’t know, Holly. I only know that he ran the hospital and that he wasn’t a nice man.”
“Miss Delilah? Do people see his ghost?”
“I don’t think so.” She hesitated, then spoke firmly. “But enough about ghosts. Holly, Meredith asked me if I thought you’d like to go camping with her family this weekend. They’re leaving very early, so you’d have to spend tomorrow night at their house.”
“What did you say?”
“I said I’d ask you if you want to go camping.”
“You didn’t just tell her yes or no?”
“Of course not. If you want to, you may, but it’s up to you.”
Holly beamed. “Then I think I’d like to-”
Almost imperceptibly, the pendant lamp above their table began to sway. Then Delilah saw her tea tremble as if someone had tossed a pebble into a vast lake. Putting her hands on the table, she felt the vibrations beginning. Across from her, Holly’s eyes went wide.
Suddenly, the earth gave a hard sideways jolt and, dimly, Delilah was aware of the silverware and dishes jittering on the table, of diners’ voices lifting in surprise. The lamp swayed hard now, casting shadows Alfred Hitchcock would approve. “Under the table, Holly! Now!”
Delilah slipped below the small table, saw Holly safely in front of her, and then everything went dark.
There had only been the one big shake, but her grandmother was out cold. “Miss Delilah?” Holly held her grandmother’s hands under the table, rubbing them. “Miss Delilah?”
Delilah’s eyelids fluttered.
A waiter lifted the linen tablecloth and peered at Holly and Delilah. “I’ll call an ambulance.”
“No, she’s okay.”
“She needs a doctor, young lady. Here. Let me help her.”
Miss Delilah’s terrified eyes opened and stared into Holly’s. She squeezed her hands tighter. “It’s okay,” Holly whispered. “It’s over.” The waiter was joined by another and now both reached for Delilah.
“No!” Holly glared at the pair of them, suddenly furious because they didn’t understand an
d wouldn’t listen. “Leave us alone! No doctors! Just go clear out the restaurant!” The order tumbled from her lips as she remembered Steve Cross talking about how you shut things down after an earthquake. “Go!” she ordered. Part of her couldn’t believe she’d said it, but she knew it was right. Knew beyond all doubt.
Everything was crystal clear now, from her vision to her knowledge of what to do. She felt the blaze in her eyes as she stared at the waiters.
“Yes, okay,” one said. The other nodded. And they both disappeared.
“Holly,” began Delilah.
“It’s okay, Gram. It’s over.”
Miss Delilah nodded.
They waited there beneath the table until Holly heard the last guests leaving, then she said, “Let’s go. Everyone’s gone.”
Miss Delilah nodded and they rose together. Her grandmother brushed herself off, adjusted her skirt and jacket, and raised her head proudly, as if nothing had happened. Holly saw waiters and waitresses watching and looked at them all, willing the blaze in her eyes to return, thinking at them, Look away!
And they did. They all did.
30
The Basement
Startled by the sudden quake, Steve Cross rose, tense, ready for more, but the postcard rack on the desk didn’t twitch and the ceiling fan in the center of the lobby barely jittered now.
Hoping the shake was just an aftershock, but concerned because it didn’t feel that way, he came around the desk just as the elevator dinged. As the outer doors slid open, he was ready to assure the passenger that everything was fine. And it was; the lights hadn’t so much as flickered.
The cab was lit, but no one came out. “Everything okay?” he called, laying his hand on the handle of the folding gate. He yanked it back: the handle was freezing cold. But this was no phantom elevator. He peered into the cab, seeing the old-fashioned floral wallpaper and the little corner table with its vase of flowers.
But something else was within, something cold. Before he could move aside, he felt it ooze onto him like thick dark water. He stepped back as it began to envelop his hands, his arms, his legs. Fingers aching from the chill, he pulled out of its path and followed the cold mass as it moved, staying three feet back to keep from shivering. He could almost see it - it shimmered like heat on a desert highway as it glided slowly from the deep alcove, and into the lobby. Finally, it arrived at the copper door, and then moved through it, leaving a sheen of frost on the metal. As it vanished, Steve stepped closer. The air was no longer chilled but the copper door emanated preternatural cold.
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