“What’s his name?”
“Winston.” Think of a last name. “Winston Smith.”
“Smith?” Clint looked up, as if trying to recall the name. “Which side of the family is he related to?”
“Dad’s. He’s quite a bit older than I am. Second, no, maybe third cousin.” As soon as she got back to her parents’ home, she needed to clue them in on what was going on before Clint asked them about Winston.
“Where’s he live?”
“Kentucky, but I can’t remember the name of the town.”
“Why would he take a trip to Iowa this time of year?”
“He has a granddaughter getting married in Wisconsin, and since he’s coming north, he wants to see as many relatives as he can.” How many more lies would she tell him?
“So, he’s driving?”
“I don’t know for sure.” Charlie was antsy and hoped he wouldn’t ask any more questions. “I didn’t ask him about his travel arrangements.”
“When’s he gonna be here?” Clint asked.
“I told him I had to talk to you about that first.”
“So he knows.” Clint paused. “About us?”
“That we’re not living together?” Charlie didn’t wait for an answer. “I told him we were working through some things.”
“I don’t see anything wrong with relatives seeing our daughter.”
“Great.” After an uncomfortable silence, Charlie said, “I miss you.”
Clint averted her eyes. “It’s been tough.”
“Clint, look at me.” When he looked into her eyes it was all Charlie could do to not start crying again. “Are we going to make it through this?”
“I don’t know.”
Suddenly infuriated, Charlie scooted out of the booth and grabbed her coat.
“Charlie?” she heard him call as she walked toward the door, but didn’t turn back around. If she stayed any longer, she’d fall apart.
After dinner with her parents, Charlie called Winston. “Winston, it’s Charlie Abbott,” she began. “I thought I’d let you know Clint is fine with you meeting Mira. I made up a story about how you’re my long-lost cousin.”
“I’ve already booked my ticket,” Winston answered. “I’ll be in Omaha day after tomorrow at noon, rent a car, and I should be in Sheffield by two.”
“I don’t know how to thank you enough.”
“Charlie.”
“Yes.”
“You need to be prepared.”
“For?”
“Intuition tells me that we could be dealing with a very dark spirit.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MIRA WAS SO TIRED.
She sat on the ground, her back leaning against a tree trunk, her legs and arms splattered in dirt. She hadn’t eaten in days and couldn’t sleep. Her tummy felt icky and her eyes hurt from crying so much. Mommy always told her to think good thoughts, but that didn’t help anymore.
She didn’t like this stupid place. She missed Mommy, Daddy, and Hank. Whenever Mira thought about never going back home again, it made her heart hurt.
Every day she watched the sun pass through the puffy pink cotton-candy clouds and listened to the colorful birds sing their songs. She remembered begging Mommy to buy her a pretty bird, but Mommy told Mira that all animals have a right to be free. And now, it felt like Mira was locked in a cage and there was no one here to set her free.
She’d looked everywhere for another way out, but couldn't find one. She used to be able just close her eyes and the tunnel would appear, but lately she couldn’t make it happen.
No matter how she begged, Faith wouldn’t let her go home. She wished Daddy would come and get her. He said he’d protect her forever and ever, but how would he be able to find her?
She stood and pushed a clump of hair out of her eyes. “Faith!” she shouted, her voice raspy. When she didn’t hear anything, she yelled as loud as she could, “Faith! Please!”
When the tunnel came into view and she saw a swirling fog coming out of the opening, for the first time in days Mira had hope that maybe her sister would let her go home. When Faith stepped out, she was wearing Mira’s favorite overalls.
“What do you want now?” Faith asked her face all red and scrunched up like she was angry.
“I want to go home.” Mira bit her lower lip, trying not to be a cry baby like Faith had called her.
Faith rolled her blue eyes. “No one wants you anymore.”
“Yes, they do.” Hearing Faith’s words the possibility of seeing Mommy and Daddy again disappeared.
“No, they don’t.” Faith crooked her thumb and pointed at herself. “They just want me.”
“Not true.”
Faith put a hand over her hip, just like Mommy did when she got mad. “Then why don’t they come get you?”
“‘Cause they don’t know where I am. They think you’re me.”
Faith’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know?”
“‘Cause I can hear what you’re doin’. See it too.” The truth was that Mira couldn’t see Faith, Mommy, and Daddy as much as she had when Faith first left her here.
“Could you see Daddy and me makin’ pancakes?”
Mira looked down.”No,” she said sadly, and then an idea popped into her head. Maybe if Mira could trick her into believing she wanted to stay here, she could talk Faith into going home for just a little while.
“Didn’t think so, smarty pants.”
“I don’t care. I like it here more than I thought.”
Faith eyed her.“Don’t believe you. You just said you wanted to go home.”
Mira turned her head and glanced at the beach. “I can make sand castles whenever I want and you can’t.”
Her sister was quiet for a while, making Mira think she knew what she was up to. “And I can eat all the candy I want and no one tells me I’ve had enough.
“Yea!” Faith clapped her hands. “So now we’re both where we want to be.”
Mira briefly glanced behind Faith to the tunnel. She had to do something quick.
Faith put her arms around Mira and gave her a hug. “I’m sorry I’m bein’ mean to you.”
“Why are you bein’ mean?” Mira asked.
“I hafta, ‘cause you might try and take my place and I’ll never see my daddy again.”
“He was my Daddy first.”
“Nuh-uh. We were born the same day.”
“We can never be with Daddy together?” Mira asked.
Faith shook her head. “Never, ever, ever.”
“Like you said, I need to share, and it’s your turn.” Mira’s back was to the tunnel and, when she turned her head to the right, she noticed the inside of the tunnel getting brighter. Faith was getting ready to leave.
When Mira rammed the palm of her hands into Faith’s chest, Faith flew backward. Quickly, she spun around and took off running.
“Mira!” she heard Faith shout. “Liar!”
Running as fast as she could, when she tripped over a twig, she went down hard on one knee. “Noooo!” she cried.
Faith’s hand slapped down hard on her shoulder, but Mira somehow managed to shirk her sister’s hand off and take off again.
Out of breath and energy, she dove head first into the foggytunnel.But Faith was too quick and grabbed an ankle. Grasping both hands around Mira’s calves, Faith tugged her backward so hard that it brought tears. She kicked, twisted and turned to get away. “Let go!”
“You’re not going anywhere!” Faith tightened her grip, sending shooting pains up Mira’s legs.
When a forceful wind came up, it took everything Mira had and more to fight harder knowing that the angrier Faith became, the stronger her power. The strong gale pushed Mira forward, then backward, and then forward again as Faith held tight.
On her stomach, letting out a groan as she pushed her hands out in front of her, Mira tried to move forward, but couldn’t. Faith’s fingernails tore into Mira’s skin and she felt drops of warm blood trickle down her legs. �
�Stop it, Faith!” It hurt so much, but she couldn’t give up. This could be her only chance to go home.
Terrified, Mira concentrated on trying to free just one leg, rotating it as fast as she could every which way until finally Faith lost her hold. Quickly, she thrust her knee up to her chest, drew in a deep breath, and kicked back as hard as she could. At the same time her foot rammed into her sister, Faith let out a hair-raising scream, releasing her grip.
Mira scrambled forward, her heart beating so fast it felt like it was going to explode. When the wind started to die down, she stood and started to limp down the foggy cylinder. Letting out whimpers whenever her weight shifted to her hurt knee, she remembered Daddy saying that God would watch over her. “Now I lay me down to sleep.” Mira started to recite the only prayer she knew. “I pray the Lord my soul to keep.”
When another forceful gust of air caught her off guard, her feet spun out from under her. Faith. On her knees, and facing the wrong direction, Mira slowly turned herself around.
Her hair blowing straight back off her face, the angry straight winds stinging her eyes , she heard her Daddy say, “If you ever get caught in a tornado, Pumpkin, and I’m not there to look after you, just get as low to the ground as you can.”
She dropped to her stomach and began to slither like a snake. The only thing that helped Mira from giving up was envisioning Mommy and Daddy’s faces.
When she dropped out of the tunnel and onto carpet, she burst into tears. “I made it,” she cried. “I made it.”
Wiping her eyes, her muscles so stiff and sore she could hardly move, Mira looked around. Where was she? She was in a bedroom with toys and dolls and a bed, but it wasn’t Mira’s room.
“Mira?” Mira looked up and saw her friend Chelsea, but she had short hair and was taller than she remembered. How long had Mira been gone?
“Why are you on the floor?” Chelsea pointed at Mira’s head. “Your hair’s all funny.” Her eyes went to Mira’s leg. “And you’re bleeding.”
Fearful that Faith would pull her back at any time, she winced in pain when she stood. “Where’s my daddy?”
“He dropped you off so he could meet Charlie.” Chelsea got a funny look on her face as she looked Mira up and down. “You look like you’ve been in a fight.”
“Why are you calling my mommy Charlie?” Mira asked angrily.
“‘Cause that’s what you call her.”
“No, I don’t!” Mira told Chelsea. “I have to see Daddy!”
“Get back here!” she heard Faith say. Suddenly dizzy, Faith was getting stronger.
“Did you hear that?” Mira asked.
“Hear what?”
“Faith. Did you hear her?”
“Mommy,” Chelsea called. “Mira’s sick or something.”
Mira weaved out the door and down the hallway. When she felt a tug on her leg and almost lost her balance, Mira knew she couldn’t fight her sister much longer. Staggering, the walls looked as if they were moving, and when she saw a blurred vision coming toward her, she froze, thinking it was Faith.
“What’s wrong, Mira?” She recognized Chelsea’s mommy’s voice. Her legs gave out and she crumbled to the carpet. Looking up, she saw four eyes going in circles, and a face that was out of focus. “Daddy,” she whispered. “I need Daddy.”
“Hello?” Daddy’s voice. “Anyone here?”
“We’re in the hallway, Clint,” Chelsea’s mommy called out to him.
Hurry, Daddy, hurry.
“Mira?” Daddy picked her up in his strong arms. Mira wanted to hug him, but couldn’t get her arms to move.
“When did she get sick?” Daddy asked.
“Help…. me, Daddy. It's Faith… She’s…” Mira breathed out before the world she once knew disappeared again.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“WINSTON, WHERE ARE YOU?” Charlie had been close to the phone for hours anxiously waiting for him to call.
“Just got into Sheffield,” Winston replied. “I stopped at a gas station to use the pay phone.”
Charlie gave him her parent’s address and the directions, and told Winston she’d watch for him.
After she hung up, she found her mom and dad quietly sitting in their designated La-Z-Boy chairs. “We need to talk.” She sat down on the couch across from them. Charlie was anxious, not knowing how her parents would react when she told them about the stranger who was coming to their house.
“About?” her father asked.
“I’ve… I’ve contacted someone who… well, he’s kind of a medium.”
“A medium?” Her mother’s eyes grew wide. “You mean one of those court people who decides who gets what in a divorce?”
“No. It’s someone I wrote a letter to that might be able to help Mira.”
Her parents were silent as Charlie told them about Winston.
“You think Mira’s like that little girl in that movie you used to watch all the time?” her father asked, his tone skeptical.
“You mean Poltergeist?” Charlie asked. “I don’t know what I think. I only know that the Mira isn’t the same little girl she used to be. But here’s the deal, I told Clint that the person who’s coming to visit is your cousin.”
Her father placed a hand over his chest. “My cousin?”
“His name is Winston Fry, but I’ll introduce him as Winston Smith.”
“He’s coming here? To Sheffield?” her mother asked. “Is that who’s been calling here?”
“Yes. I need you to go along with me on this.” Charlie paused and looked down at her clasped hands in her lap.
“Of course.” Charlie’s father glanced at her mother. “We’ll do anything to help you keep your family together, honey.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Charlie stood and went to the front window, pulled back the curtain, watching for Winston. “He’s on his way here.”
“Now?” her mother asked alarmed.
Charlie turned and saw her mother push up off the chair. “Mom, please don’t go to any trouble.”
“I’ll just make some coffee,” her mother said, hustling toward the kitchen. “I’ll take out some sugar cookies from the freezer.”
Charlie’s father followed behind her. “I’ll help.”
No one ever stepped into her parents’ home without being fed. Charlie smiled, realizing she’d followed in her mother’s footsteps, always having cookies or casseroles in the freezer for guests.
She stared out the front window, thinking about what she’d done. What if the newspaper articles she’d found were a hoax? What if Winston Fry was just a crazy old man? Charlie told herself to stop over thinking. She’d found enough about the psychic to know he had a valid reputation.
When she saw a Black SUV that Winston told her he’d rented at the Omaha airport coming slowly down the street, she went to the door and opened it. Stepping outside, she waved and pointed in front of the house, signaling for him to park. Once the neighbors saw his car, tongues would wag, but Charlie didn’t give a damn anymore.
“Charlie?” Winston called. The short man stepped out of the vehicle.
Charlie nodded, her teeth chattering she was so cold. “Come on in.”
Walking toward her, she noticed he walked with a slight gait, favoring his left leg and his silver gray hair was slicked back and pulled into a ponytail.
When he reached the porch, she held out her cold hand to shake. “Thank you so much for coming.”
“Good Lord.” He smiled a crooked smile. “Let me in before I lose another ear.”
When his gray-blue eyes looked into hers, Charlie started to relax. “I hear ya.” She laughed as she held the door open and he stepped inside. “This has to be quite a change from Kentucky.” Charlie closed the door. “Let me take your coat.”
Winston rubbed his gloved hands together. “I think I’ll leave it on for a while so I can thaw.”
He was a funny little man and she liked him immediately.
Winston sat down on a bench just inside the door, untied his
dress shoes, and took them off.
“If you’re going to be here long, you’d best get some snow boots,” Charlie told him.
“Even if I’m here for only two hours, I need them.”
“Would you like some slippers?” Charlie asked.
Winston glanced down at his feet. “You think you have some small enough?”
Charlie had never seen a man with such small feet.
“Pulling your chain.” Winston pulled out a pair of what looked like thick socks from one of the outside pockets of his coat. He held them up and Charlie noticed the rubber on the bottom of the socks. “I came prepared.”
“I love slipper socks,” she said.
“When I stopped in Omaha to buy a coat and gloves, the clerk said these would keep my feet warmer than anything,” Winston told her as he pulled the heavy knit socks on.
In spite of the sophisticated name, Winston seemed down-to-earth and genuine.
Charlie nodded at the couch. “Take a seat. My mother is…”
“Right here.”
Charlie turned and saw her mother carrying a plate of cookies, her father behind her holding a tray with four mugs of steaming coffee.
“Winston, this is my mom and dad,” Charlie said. “And I can guarantee that as long as you’re in town, you’ll never go hungry.”
During coffee and the best damn sugar cookies Winston said he’d ever tasted, he began to educate Charlie’s parents about mediums. He explained in simple language how he’d received the gift to open barriers between the worlds of life and death when he’d been in a coma. He also talked about telepathic perception, which was the ability to receive information from someone else’s mind.
Charlie’s parents had that deer-in-the-headlights look, their eyes clouding over about halfway through the conversation. Charlie only caught her dad raise an eyebrow once when he noticed Winston’s ponytail.
Winston’s expression turned from relaxed to solemn. He leaned forward. “Now, let’s chat about Mira.”
“What would you like to know?” Charlie asked.
“Everything. Anything. Favorite colors. Friends’ names. Her likes and dislikes.” Winston put up an index finger. “I need her to trust me.”
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