“I know, but I think this woman is using your brother somehow. He wrote her name on a piece of paper, which probably means he’s been coherent enough to know at least something about what’s going on.”
Ridge nodded. “We need to find him, then. Maybe he knows how to stop this.” He pushed in his chair and was already heading toward the door.
“Wait for me,” I said as I got up. I went to place the book back on the shelf and then thought better of it and tucked it under my arm. I ran to catch up with Ridge. He was already in even more of a huff. “Where are you going?” I asked. “We can’t just go running up to this ghost and say, ‘Hey, we know your name now. Game over.’ That’s not how this works.”
“I need to find my brother, and then we’ll figure it out from there.”
I grabbed his arm and stopped him, turning him toward me. “There’s one more thing that may help us, but we have to go back to my grandmother’s.”
“What are we waiting for?”
We were silent on our way back to my grandparents’ house. The library wasn’t too far from the house, but we made sure to watch our backs, in case Elizabeth was still hunting us. I caught Ridge glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. I quickly looked away as heat crept into my cheeks.
It was cold. I looked up at the sky and saw that the stars were out, but when I looked at my phone to check the time, it was morning. Not only was this ghost controlling the people of Beaconfield, but she was controlling the sky and borders as well.
When we got to the front door of my grandparents’ house, I peeked through the windows into the living room and then the dining room looking for Grandma, but the house seemed empty.
I unwrapped the vine from the handle of the front door and opened it as slowly and quietly as possible.
The house was deathly quiet. The normal creeks and groans were gone and even the sounds outside didn’t seem to reach us here.
“I want to check on my grandma,” I whispered to Ridge.
He swallowed and pulled his T-shirt from his neck, nodding finally.
We went up the stairs quickly and quietly. When I opened her bedroom door, I expected her to jump at us. Instead, I found her lying in bed. We approached her cautiously. She was on her back, staring straight up at the ceiling. Her eyes and mouth were both open, and she wasn’t blinking.
I ran to her side, panic rising in my chest. Was she dead? I felt for the pulse on her neck. It was there, and it was steady. I let out a sigh.
She looked like a shell of the woman I’d known. The brightness in her eyes was gone and her skin was gray and sunken. I smoothed the stray hairs out of her face. Her eyes closed slightly and she seemed to relax. The tension in her body left like an exhale, and I exhaled in turn.
Ridge tapped me on the shoulder and motioned for me to meet him in the hall.
When I closed her bedroom door behind me, Ridge turned and whispered, “Where to now?”
“Follow me.”
My grandmother kept all of her things in the library, along with a large collection of crystals, herbs, and other witchy objects.
In the center of the room sat a large wooden table, with matching chairs around it. I put the library book on the table and turned to the other books. I pulled Wicca for Beginners off the shelf along with a few others, gathering as many as my arms could hold, and spread them out on the table.
Ridge picked one up and read the title aloud. “At Home Summoning Rituals? Mari, I’m not going to summon anything.” He threw the book back onto the table and crossed his arms.
“Oh, calm down. We’re not summoning anything. We already have one too many malevolent spirits around.” I dug through the cabinets, pulling out a handful of small white candles. I placed them in the middle of the table and lit them. Grandmother had always told me that the white ones were for protection.
“What are we doing, then?”
“West’s drawings in his room—he’d drawn pictures of Elizabeth,” I said, flipping the library book open to her story and tapping the page. “But he also drew a bunch of symbols. And I recognized those.” I pulled a couple of the books toward me and flipped them open, looking for the symbols.
“What did the symbols look like?” Ridge asked, becoming interested again.
“They had multiple circles . . .” I trailed off as I concentrated on the pages.
“I’ll check these books for symbols and you can tell me if you recognize them,” Ridge said, and then suddenly broke into a huge yawn.
“And I’ll go make us some coffee,” I said.
When I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I saw my grandmother. I gasped and pulled myself out of her view, plastering myself to the wall, trying to disappear. I took a deep breath and peeked back around the corner.
She was pacing the kitchen, going around and around the island that stood in the middle. She stopped and began opening and closing the cabinets, mumbling to herself. She looked incredibly disheveled. Her white hair had been in a braid before but was now pulled out every which way and practically standing on end.
I got to an angle where I could see her eyes and I was satisfied when I saw that they weren’t white. But I’d gotten too far away from my hiding place—Grandma turned in my direction.
I stepped back to my hiding place next to the doorway, my heart racing. I tried to keep my breathing quiet, but could feel myself begin to hyperventilate.
My grandmother crept toward me, her breathing shallow. And then, nothing.
The kitchen was silent. No one was moving. The house was quiet again.
I peeked around the corner again and came inches from my grandmother’s face. I tried to scream, but no sound came out.
She reached for me, her hands coming toward my neck. I tried to make my body move, but I was frozen, paralyzed.
The second her hands wrapped around my neck she snapped out of her trance.
She shook her head and blinked rapidly before she recognized me. “Marigold?” She seemed genuinely confused.
“Grandma?” I fell into her chest, wrapping my arms around her. I felt tears spring to my eyes. My grandmother rubbed my back lightly before pushing me away and looking me in the eyes.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“Before I explain anything to you, let’s go to the library.”
I grabbed her hand and led her back to the library to see Ridge. He was still at the table, digging through the books.
“Did you get the coffee?” Ridge asked over his shoulder without looking up.
“Uh, no, but I got something else.”
He turned around. His blue eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open. He scrambled up from his chair, pointing at Grandma. “Mari!” he yelled.
“Whoa, easy. She’s fine,” I said with my hands in front of me.
“Marigold, Ridge, will someone please explain to me what’s going on?” my grandmother asked.
We spent the next thirty minutes explaining our experience in Beaconfield and what we knew so far. Halfway through, my grandmother dug through her Wiccan supplies and found a bundle of white sage and lavender. She began to smudge us and the house. We went room to room with the smoking herb and tried to dispel any bad spirits that may have followed us. Each room we went into made me feel more and more anxious. I didn’t know what was waiting behind the doors of each, or who could be hiding in the shadows.
Once we were done, we returned to the library. Ridge sprawled on a chair in the corner with a book while Grandma assessed me, hands on her hips.
“Marigold, my god, are you covered in blood?”
I looked down at myself. She was right, my T-shirt was caked in dirt and tinged red with blood. I remembered hitting my head on the table in the entryway the night before. I probed my forehead with my fingertips, wincing when I found the cut. It wasn’t deep, but it still hurt. “I think I’m going to go take a shower to have a bit of normal in my life.”
I closed the door to the bathroom behind me quickly. I pressed my
back against the door and let out a deep sigh. I slid down the door and sat on the cold tile.
I was alone.
After a few minutes of peace, I got off the floor and started my showering ritual.
I turned the water onto full heat to warm up the room . I stood in front of the large mirror over the sink and stared at my reflection while the mirror developed condensation.
My heart rate lowered as I took deep breaths. When the mirror was sufficiently fogged, I turned the temperature of the water down a bit and undressed. I jumped into the shower quickly once I was naked because the cold of the season was seeping through the cracks of the house.
The water shocked my skin and made me instantly relax. I let out a sigh as the water washed down my head and warmed the rest of my body.
I took a long shower. I used all the herbal soaps and shampoos that my grandmother always kept in the house. There was a strong scent of lavender in most of the soaps. Grandma had made them from scratch from the lavender fields next door. I inhaled deeply to get its healing properties into me.
As I closed my eyes, the image of Ridge’s face flashed across the back of my eyelids. I felt a small smile spread across my face. Even with the craziness of the last day, being around Ridge made me feel like a kid again, and he made me feel safe. We would figure this out. I hoped we would . . .
Too soon, I hopped out and wrapped a towel around my body to keep the warmth in. I reached across the counter and wiped a circle in the condensation. I brushed my hair at the mirror, feeling the knots being pulled out. I counted the strokes through my hair, making sure to keep it as tangle free as possible.
I grabbed my grandmother’s necklace from the counter and looked down to attach the clasp. I looked up at myself and gasped.
“Jesus,” I said. I spun around and clutched the towel to my body.
It was West. He stood behind me in the same clothes as yesterday. I looked him over. He was wet from the rain and his feet were covered in mud and blades of grass. He was shaking, shivering. The most off-putting thing about him was his white eyes.
I felt tears spring to my eyes in fear as I opened my mouth. “West?” I asked quietly. “We’ve been looking for you.”
West stared at me, unblinking.
Dread washed over me again, making me shake where I stood. I took a step backward, and West stepped forward. It was a standoff. West seemed to be glaring at me, even though his pupils were missing.
He stood there, swaying back and forth, his arms limp. His skin was pale and sickly looking.
I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I unclenched my jaw and screamed. I’d never heard my voice that loud. My eardrums thrummed in my head. And I continued to scream, over and over.
“Why do you ignore me, girl?” the voice asked, inspecting me.
“West? What are you doing? Please stop.”
“You have something of mine,” said the voice, speaking through West. It was the woman’s voice that we’d heard the night before in the kitchen.
My mouth opened and closed—I didn’t know what to say to the ghost. I backed up as quickly as possible, pressing my back against the wall. “I . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said quietly, my voice trembling.
“Give it back!” the woman’s voice shouted at me.
I flinched and tried to move farther back, but the wall was in the way. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said with tears in my eyes. “Please, just leave me alone, let me go.” The tears began streaming down my face. I cowered away from West, sinking to the floor.
“Not until I get what I need.” The voice was deeper this time, like West’s voice was coming through more than before.
There was a loud banging on the door. I heard Ridge and my grandmother on the other side. They were screaming my name and wrenching the knob back and forth.
“Help! Please!” I yelled. I shifted out of the corner, my eyes on the locked doorknob. Could I make it over there and unlock the door?
West was staring at me from across the room, but he looked like he was getting ready to pounce as soon as I moved.
I reached across the bathroom counter and grabbed the soap dispenser. I heaved it across the room at West and ran.
The bottle hit him in the chest, and he swatted at it. I reached for the lock on the door and unlocked it as West jumped on me. A scream escaped my lungs as the door was pushed open. The corner of the door crashed into my elbow and made me hiss in pain. I rolled onto my back and batted at West, trying to get him off of me.
Ridge came through the door and pulled his brother away.
Without the pressure of his body, I took a deep breath and pulled my towel back up higher on my chest.
“West, he . . . he attacked me!” I screamed at Ridge.
Ridge got in front of me and threw his arms out to create a barrier between me and his brother. “I don’t think that’s West,” he said slowly, inspecting his brother.
They stared at each other in a showdown.
I held my towel tightly and felt the sickening heat of anxiety wash over me. I glanced at the door—could I make it? I wanted to make a run for it, but I also didn’t want to leave Ridge behind to fight his brother alone. I held my ground.
West glared at us, as if we were prey, and then he leapt on his brother. Ridge grunted under the weight of West’s body.
I jumped backward to protect myself. I pulled my towel up higher. I really wished this ghost had given me a chance to get dressed before deciding to ruin my morning.
Ridge and West fought harder and harder. Ridge was stronger, but there was some sort of feral quality about West that didn’t seem normal.
Ridge threw him off and scrambled back to me, ushering me toward the door. West grabbed at his brother again, but this time Ridge reacted by pushing him. West stumbled back, a look of fear on his face. He crashed into the window directly behind him.
The glass shattered and he fell through it.
His body disappeared in slow motion: his shoulders, legs, and then bare feet.
Ridge and I gasped loudly. We ran to the window and looked down on the lawn, expecting to see West’s body. The lawn was empty.
West was gone.
I rustled around in my bag, looking for clothes to throw on quickly. Jeans, gray T-shirt, leather jacket, my white sneakers. I clutched at my grandmother’s necklace. Feeling it pull tight on my skin grounded me for a moment. I didn’t have a moment to myself—West had tried to attack me and I’d felt completely helpless, cowering in the corner. I was frustrated with myself. I didn’t want to be someone who was afraid. I’d never been that person.
I peeked out the window into the front yard. Ridge was already halfway down the road and nearly out of view. He’d run outside after his brother and then yelled about going to look for him.
Stumbling down the stairs while trying to pull my sneakers on, I found my grandmother waiting for me in the foyer.
“Please be careful, Marigold,” she said, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.
I rushed out of the house, wet hair and all. I sprinted across the lawn, feeling my ankle throb in protest. I pushed myself to catch up with Ridge. He was just ahead of me. The canopy of trees hung over the road as he continued to run.
Where was he going?
I felt a dark entity that seemed to be hanging in the air as I hurried after Ridge. The houses on the streets were usually quaint and pleasant looking, but as I ran past them, I felt like I was being watched or even stalked.
Ridge slowed down ahead of me.
I pushed myself harder and didn’t call out to him until I was nearly on top of him.
“Where are you going?” I asked, breathless. My body pulsed with the energy of the run. He’d stopped at the top of the hill that led into downtown. I stopped next to him and put my hands on my knees, taking deep breaths.
He didn’t say anything, just stood there.
“Ridge?” I asked. “Are you okay?”
He didn’
t say anything, but he pointed down the hill. I followed his finger and saw what had caused him to stop.
The citizens of Beaconfield were milling about the town. They shuffled from store to store, across the street and in circles. They looked like zombies.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing Ridge’s arm. “Let’s go back to the house.”
He ripped his arm out of my grasp and glared at me.
I stopped, my mouth hanging open. “What’s your problem?” I hissed at him.
“What do you think, Mari?” he yelled in my face.
Anxiety weighed heavily on my chest and tears welled in my eyes. “I mean, this isn’t an ideal situation, but we need to be in this together. You can’t just run off on me.” I spoke loudly.
“A ghost is possessing my brother, and I’m going to find him.” At that, he marched off down the hill toward the haunted town.
For a moment, I was going to let him go on his own, but then I imagined the walk back to Grandma’s house alone and thought better of it.
“I’m coming with you!” I yelled after him as I jogged to catch up. “Where are you going?”
“Look at the way the people are acting. Most of them are wandering around and doing the things that they’d normally do. My mom is probably wandering around with the rest of them, but I think West would be where he usually is.”
“And where’s that?”
“The wharf.”
West had always been a bit strange. He spent a lot of time by himself and didn’t have many friends. Because of his condition, it seemed like the other kids were afraid of him, never sure what he was going to do. He’d often follow us around in the summer from place to place, but he’d never come out of the shadows to speak with us, he’d always just wait and watch and listen. For that reason, I’d never really connected with West, but I felt like I knew him because of Ridge.
Ridge had only ever spoken positively about his brother. West was never a schizophrenic to him—he was always his little brother who just needed some help from time to time. And as we stood on the docks in the early morning, I realized that this was just another one of those times.
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