Beaconfield

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Beaconfield Page 14

by Bri R. Leclerc


  “I am unaware of what to do next. I feel as if I am meant to be the one to solve this problem, hence why I am not like them. I will list what I’ve done here in this journal to try to make some sense of it all.” I flipped ahead a few pages, but that was the end of the passage.

  “It looks like he experienced the same thing we are,” Ridge said.

  I nodded and continued flipping through the pages. I swallowed when I saw Elizabeth’s name. “Here,” I said, “he mentions her here.” I pointed to Elizabeth’s name on the page and glanced through the passage. “Mom’s name is in here.” There was shock in my voice as I kept reading.

  “Violet is here visiting, and she is acting strange as well, walking around the house aimlessly with my Ellis. I had driven home, excited to have my family together at the house, but something is happening here.

  “I was just woken up by a sound downstairs. When I went down to the living room, I found Violet speaking to herself in the corner. When I looked her in the eyes, I saw that they were white. I felt the shock rise in my throat. Then she said something to me about a woman named Elizabeth Harp.

  “I looked the name up in the library and, as luck would have it, she died in Beaconfield. I pulled all the records that I could on her. I looked at her will, and it stated that she wanted to be buried with what meant the most to her. I am taking that to mean that she wanted to be buried with her family.” I looked up from the journal. “The entry ends there, and he doesn’t mention Elizabeth again. Do you remember this, Grandma?”

  Her face was stitched in concentration, like she was digging deep in her memory. “I do remember something strange happening, but like I said, your grandfather would never explain more. He said I didn’t need to worry about it.”

  “Maybe you did need to worry, because it’s happening again,” I said, shrugging.

  “Buried with what meant the most to her. . .” Ridge said, playing with the words in his mouth.

  What meant most to Elizabeth Harp?

  Ridge turned to one of the picture windows and rested his chin on the sill. He looked out on the field of lavender and let out a deep sigh. I watched his eyes tracking the light of the beacon, watching it go around and around. I could see the gears in his head doing the same.

  Suddenly, he sat up.

  I scrambled to his side and looked out as well.

  West was standing in the lavender field.

  We sprinted down the stairs and crashed out into the front yard. My grandmother yelled after us, telling us to be safe. I felt a tightness in my injured ankle but kept up with Ridge. He got ahead of me and turned to the left, down the path to the lighthouse. I jumped off the deck, my feet crunching through the leaves and dead lavender.

  I followed closely behind Ridge, pushing myself to stay on his heels. The light was getting closer and brighter. Thinking back to my grandad’s journal entry, I remembered that I hadn’t been in the lighthouse since the last time I was in Beaconfield six years ago. And now that I knew what had happened to me up there, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go in there again.

  Ridge searched around the outside of the lighthouse and the adjoining building. While I waited for him to come back, I looked up at the light. From this angle, I had to crane my neck. I stared up at the white stone cylinder and watched it go around four times. Then I saw a face in the window halfway up.

  “He’s up there!” I yelled and pointed.

  Ridge came running around the building. When he did, he followed my finger and then yelled up to his brother. “West!” He twisted the knob of the door to the small house and pushed it. The door didn’t budge. “God dammit,” he said under his breath. He threw his body against the door and it flew open.

  The stale air blew out of the room and into our faces. I coughed and waved the dust away. We took a step into the small room and I instantly felt a significant temperature difference. I glanced around the room and nostalgia washed over me. The same small cot that’d been there for years sat in the corner, sheets with holes in them from moths and spider webs hanging over it.

  On the other side of the room was the kitchen. The white appliances were old—they’d never worked in my lifetime, but my mom had told me that her father had cooked dinner for her on that stove once. The room was dark and dank, smelling of mold, and the walls had chipping paint and rust spots on the metal walls.

  “West! Where are you?” Ridge leaned on the staircase and looked up, searching for his little brother. He checked the small closet near the bed. A few coats were hanging there, the same ones that’d been there since I could remember.

  Ridge jumped onto the bottom step and began climbing. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.

  “Wait,” I said. Ridge spun to look at me, a question in his eyes. “We can’t just go running up there. We’ve dealt with this ghost before and it didn’t go too well . . .”

  “Mari, that ghost has my brother.” Ridge looked me deep in the eyes.

  I searched and saw his determination and anger. I swallowed and nodded. I let him go and he ran after his brother.

  He took the steps two at a time while I followed as closely as I could. I was slower than he was with my injured ankle, but I tried to keep up. We were both breathing heavily as we climbed, and I could feel a burning in my calves.

  Ridge stopped on every floor to listen for his brother and call out to him, giving me a chance to catch up. When we made it to the top of the light, I was surprised to see that West wasn’t there.

  “He has to be here,” I said. Ridge glanced over the edge of the spiral staircase and then slammed his hand on the railing. The sound echoed all the way down to the base of the tower and back up to us. The room was silent except for the mechanical whir of the light above us.

  “Dammit!” he said loudly. “When will this end?”

  On a hunch, I checked the door to the catwalk. The door had been sealed shut the day they’d turned the lighthouse electric. I was unsurprised when the handle turned and the door opened.

  “Ridge,” I said quietly. I opened the door slowly as Ridge came up behind me. A breeze blew over us. It was strong and cold. I pulled my jacket tighter around me. Ridge shivered and walked through the door out onto the catwalk.

  “Make sure you keep your hand on the railing,” I called out to him.

  I peeked out and watched Ridge walk around the top of the tower. I looked down at the holes in the metal grate floor and pushed back the anxiety that was bubbling up. Suddenly, the memory of being held over the railing by and invisible force flashed back to me. I could feel the cold grip of hands on my biceps, pushing me down as I tried to resist. I gasped and stumbled backward.

  Once I caught my breath, I decided to overcome my fear. I stepped out the doorway and reached slowly to grab the railing.

  My legs shook as my sneakers touched the metal. From up here, the water was dark, choppy, and angry. From this vantage point, I could see the lavender plants. There was no purple left on the stems, only brown and black. I took a deep breath of the ocean air and closed my eyes, soaking in the moment of panic and waiting for my anxiety to subside.

  Ridge came around the other side of the tower, making me jump. I felt my hands slip from the railing. My eyes flew open as I felt myself fall.

  But I wasn’t falling, it was just a feeling of vertigo. I looked around and found myself wrapped in Ridge’s arms.

  “What happened?” I asked. I put a hand to my head as my skull pulsed. I felt a headache coming on.

  “I don’t know, I came around the corner and you looked like you were going to pass out, so I grabbed you.” Ridge stared down at me. “Are you okay?” He reached out and brushed my hair away from my face, checking me over.

  “I think so.” I grabbed the railing again and let out a breath. “Can I not get one moment of peace?” I asked aloud.

  Ridge scoffed. “That’s a big ask right now.”

  “I take it West isn’t out here?”

  “No sign of him.”

&n
bsp; “Let’s take this party inside then,” I said as I stepped back through the doorway. Ridge pulled me back into him.

  “What?” I said. And then I looked up.

  It was West.

  “Give me back my brother,” Ridge growled. He wrapped his arms around me and stood his ground.

  “This game is getting tired,” the ghost said slowly. “You can’t win this. Give me what I want and maybe you can get out with your lives.” The ghost smiled with West’s mouth.

  Ridge’s arms tightened around me. I tried to take a step forward to talk to the ghost, but he held on to me.

  “Do you know who I am?” I asked.

  “Mari,” Ridge whispered in my ear. I swatted him away and took a step into the room.

  The ghost watched me through West’s eyes.

  “I asked if you know who I am . . .”

  The ghost cocked her head to the side in confusion. West’s curly hair fell across his eyes.

  “Are you trying to trick me, girl?” the ghost asked. She was slow and calculating.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Not at all. It was a simple question.”

  The ghost thought for a moment and then answered, “No. I do not know who you are . . .”

  “We’re related,” I said simply.

  The ghost blinked at me with her white eyes and seemed to be looking me up and down. Ridge stepped up behind me and grabbed my hand. He pulled me into him again and whispered into my ear, “What are you doing?”

  “Improvising.”

  I took another step toward West. Ridge pulled my hand back. I stopped.

  “How?” the ghost asked, obviously confused. “I did not bear children.”

  “But you had four sisters and a brother, right?” I asked, trying to make eye contact with the ghost, hoping that empathy would win her over.

  “Yes,” she said slowly.

  “They bore children and their children bore children. Eventually, there was me.” I put a hand on my chest. The ghost seemed to get excited when I said that.

  “If we are related, as you say, then you must have what I need.” West took a step forward when she spoke. In return, Ridge pulled me back slightly.

  “No, no,” I said, backpedaling. I put my hands up in defense and stood with Ridge. “I don’t know what it is you want.”

  “Give her the necklace, that’s what she wants. Finish this!” Ridge hissed in my ear.

  “Do not ignore me!” the ghost yelled through West.

  I jumped but tried not to cower away from him. I grabbed my grandmother’s necklace and felt the smooth gem between my fingers. I stared down at it and the gem seemed to flash orange. I yanked on the chain, breaking the clasp. I stared at it in my palm, saying goodbye to the family heirloom. Then I held it between my fingers and flashed it to the ghost. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

  The ghost stopped and stared at the necklace that swung in my hand. West cocked his head to the side and squinted.

  “What is this, girl?” The ghost’s voice came out of West’s mouth and made my skin crawl.

  I shuddered. “It’s what you want!” I yelled at her. “Take it and leave us alone!” I drew my arm back and threw the necklace at the ghost. It hit West in the chest and bounced to the grated floor.

  He leaned down and picked it up, looking at it.

  Nothing.

  We waited for something supernatural to happen, but it was silent.

  Ridge shifted behind me. “Uh, now what?” he asked.

  My heart fluttered with anxiety. Why didn’t it work? What was happening? When would this nightmare end?

  The ghost let the necklace slip through West’s fingers and fall to the grate again. I stared down at the metal that we’d thought would solve all our problems. It lay there, discarded. It didn’t seem to faze the ghost at all as she stepped toward us again.

  I groaned. “Why didn’t it work? I’m really getting sick of running.”

  Ridge and I stepped back through the doorway onto the catwalk behind us. I felt my anxiety bubble up again. Ridge held my hand tightly and backed up slowly around the side of the tower. The ghost stalked us.

  “I don’t want to play childish games,” she said as she followed us.

  I pressed myself tightly into Ridge’s chest and let him pull me along with him.

  “We’ll go back into the lighthouse and then run down the stairs and get the hell out of here, okay?” Ridge said into my ear, barely above a whisper.

  I nodded slightly and pushed into Ridge, urging him to move faster. I felt his heels hit the edge of the doorway again and he stepped into the room.

  “Go!” Ridge yelled at me.

  I turned on my heel and made a dash for the stairs. My ankle tightened up and I fell to the ground. I let out a scream as I smacked my face on the grated floor below me.

  Ridge stood at the top of the stairs, staring back at me. He made a move to come back for me, but West was through the door and he reached out and shoved his brother. I watched in slow motion as Ridge’s arms windmilled backward as he fell. His back hit the stairs with a crunch and I watched as Ridge went tumbling down. My hand flew to cover my mouth as I screamed. I watched through the grated floor as he rolled down about a story and a half before his body came to a halting stop.

  He didn’t move.

  I looked back to West. He was stalking toward me, his head hung and cocked to the side slightly. His white eyes stared through me. He jumped toward me. I screamed and pushed myself backward. My head collided the railing behind me. My vision went black and I gritted my teeth. I groaned in pain as my vision came back.

  When I could see again, West was standing in front of me. I scrambled backward even farther curling up into the fetal position and wrapping my arms around the railing. I tried to fortify myself there, lower my head into my lap to protect my face.

  The ghost laughed. It was a low and ground-shaking laugh. It sent a shiver up my spine. I cringed.

  “Are you trying to hide, girl?” the ghost asked.

  I picked up my head and stared West down. “What do you want?” I asked with tears in my eyes.

  “You have what I want,” she said in return, moving closer to me.

  I shrunk farther back, pushing my back against the railing behind me. I grabbed it for good measure. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please, just let us go. Let us leave town and we won’t come back, I promise.”

  West simply smiled at me. “It’s easy. Give me what I want and you may leave.”

  “But you won’t tell me what you want!” I yelled at the ghost.

  The ghost lunged at me, and this time, West’s body crushed me, forcing the air from my lungs. I struggled to catch my breath again as he grabbed my wrists and pinned me to the ground. I strained against him and heard myself scream.

  I looked up to see West’s white eyes staring down at me. He paused for a moment and then reached down for my neck to strangle me.

  I kicked him as hard as I could.

  West fell backward onto the metal landing. I sat up quickly as the ghost opened West’s mouth and screamed. The sound of the guttural roar pierced my ears and echoed through the tower. I threw my hands over my ears and waited.

  West closed his eyes and sighed very slowly. His body relaxed and a white mist dissolved from him. The mist was human shaped, and I realized that the ghost had left West’s body. The mist floated out the doorway and into the sky.

  I grabbed the necklace and stuffed it into my pocket. I watched as West tried to stand up but swayed on his feet. I rushed to his side to catch him before he fell again. I pulled his head into my chest and gently stroked his unkempt hair as he slowly came to. He looked up at me, confusion washing across his face.

  “Who . . . who are you?” he asked, blinking rapidly.

  “You remember me, West. I’m Mari. Mari Wilder.”

  He stared at me, and then recognition suddenly flashed across his face. He smiled slightly and then leaned into me a bit
more. “Thank you,” he said under his breath. It took a few moments before I realized that he was crying. I could feel the wetness of his tears soaking into my T-shirt.

  “Oh, hey,” I said as I started rubbing his back. “It’s okay, she’s gone now. Ridge and I will protect you.”

  “Ridge?” he asked. “Where is he?”

  Oh, no. Ridge!

  My head snapped up as I craned my neck to find Ridge on the staircase.

  He was moving, trying to stand, and groaning. Once he was up, he climbed the stairs in pain. He stood in front of us and rubbed his head. “Hey little brother,” he said to West. He got down on his knee in front of him. West smiled and wiped a tear from his face. “Are you okay?”

  “I am now.”

  We carried West down the stairs, making sure not to hurt his ankle. After he had come to, he told us about falling out the bathroom window. He said that he thought he’d broken his ankle when he fell. Once we were in the field, he seemed to be a bit more conscious.

  “What happened up there?” Ridge asked. There was blood on his chin and a bruise forming on his cheek.

  “I don’t know why it didn’t work.” I shifted West again as we walked along the path back to our houses.

  “What didn’t work?” West asked me.

  I struggled to hold him in my arms. “I tried giving Elizabeth her necklace back, but it didn’t make her go away,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “What made her leave West’s body?” Ridge asked.

  “Uh, I may have kicked West and he fell.” I looked at the boy in my arms apologetically. Ridge’s head spun to me, and then he glanced down at his brother, looking for injuries. “Then she just kind of . . . evaporated out of you.”

  “But the necklace didn’t do anything,” Ridge said matter-of-factly.

  “When she was in my head, she kept pointing it out,” West said. He was blinking rapidly and rubbing the side of his head.

  “Is that what she wanted, what she kept asking for?” Ridge asked.

  “I don’t know. I was kind of in and out when she was controlling me. I only remember bits and pieces. But it seemed important to her.”

 

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