by Tifani Clark
CHAPTER 18
It was tempting to continue going through stuff on my own, but I decided against it. I might miss something important if mine were the only eyes looking. The chances of three of us missing the same thing were slim so I figured it could wait until the morning. I straightened up the dining room the best I could and went upstairs to get in my own pajamas. It was only 8:30 and the sun had barely gone down, so there was still a faint light coming through my bedroom window.
I thought back to earlier in the day and the kiss I’d shared with Peter on the widow’s walk above me. I climbed the stairs to the attic once more and unlatched the window to the balcony. I stepped out into the cool night air and looked around. It was even more beautiful at that time of night. I could see the waters of Buzzards Bay way off on the horizon and I thought about all the ships that had sailed in and out of the waters there over the years. After my adventure was over I would never look at the sea the same way again. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the way it felt when Peter had touched my lips with his. The memory was still close.
I opened my eyes and as I turned to go back inside I spied a couple out for an evening stroll on the sidewalk just down the road from my house. It was sweet that they were still holding hands at their older age, but as they grew ever nearer to my house my world came crashing down. I was not very close, and it was fairly dark, but there was no doubt in my mind that it was Jeremiah and Elsa. I was so scared that my knees started knocking together. I probably should have immediately gone back down into the attic, but I was frozen in place, too scared to move.
They were almost directly in front of my house when they looked up and saw me staring at them. My heart pounded as our eyes locked. They stopped walking and waved. My arm felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds, but I was finally able to lift it in a gesture of hello and managed to fake a half-smile in return. They continued walking and I let out my breath loudly. I jumped back into the attic and locked the window. I ran down the attic staircase, locking the door behind me and then ran down the main staircase and peered out the living room window. I couldn’t see the Goodwins anymore and hoped they’d gone on down the street.
I continued my crazy run through the house checking every window and door lock, turning on lights, and closing all the curtains before I realized it wasn’t doing me any good—if they wanted in, they would come in. I was just about to dial Peter’s number when the doorbell rang.
My heart raced and it took every ounce of courage I could dig up to step toward the front door. Please let it be Camille, or Peter, or Sophia. Please let it be Camille, or Peter, or Sophia. Please let it be Camille, or Peter, or Sophia, I chanted over and over in my head as I stood on tiptoes to look through the round peephole.
“Aaggh!” I tried to stifle the scream that escaped my mouth before the couple on the other side of the door could hear it. My mind raced, trying to decide what to do. I could run through the back door and hide in the yard until they left, but maybe they would just come in if I did that. All the information Peter and I had gathered about them lay on the dining room table. It wouldn’t take a genius to find it and know what we’d been up to. If I ran out the back door I could try to escape to Jack and Rita’s and maybe they could come back with me and check for ghosts since they could see their auras and I couldn’t. But I really didn’t want to get them involved. They deserved to be happy without getting mixed up in all the other crap. I was still trying to decide what to do when the doorbell rang again, followed by a knock on the door right near my head. I jumped and moaned again.
Finally, I made a decision. I’d wanted adventure and I was going to get it. If I answered the door I’d be able to see them and know what they were up to. If I didn’t let them in, I’d spend the night wondering if they were invisibly following me around my house. I quickly dialed Peter’s number on my cell phone and then slipped it into my pocket with my finger hovering over the send button. I unlocked the bolts on the door, the noise sounding much louder to me than I’m sure it actually was, and opened the door slowly.
“Hello, honey,” Elsa said in a sing-song way.
“Uh . . . hi.”
“We’re the Godfreys. This is John and I’m Elizabeth,” she said as she pointed to Jeremiah standing next to her. “We saw you standing on your roof and we were wondering if you could help us with a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” I stood with the door only partially opened, not wanting to let them all the way in. Elsa peered past me into the room as if looking for something.
“Well, dear, our granddaughter has gone missing and we’ve been combing the neighborhoods around here looking for her. She’s run away before, but we’re really worried about her this time. Some others we’ve talked to thought she looked like a girl that had been seen at a bus stop near here recently. You look to be about her age so maybe you’ve seen her?”
Jeremiah, who hadn’t yet said anything, stretched out his hand. I looked down and saw that he held a picture. When he spoke his voice was gruff and deep. “This is what she looks like. Have you seen her?”
I reached down and took the picture with the trembling hand that wasn’t in my pocket. It was definitely Sophia. It looked like it had been taken sometime within a year or two after the one I’d found in the attic. The picture was cropped to only show her face and looked as if the color had been added later. Some sort of photo editing program had definitely been used.
The question remained. Should I lie or tell the truth . . . sort of?
I handed the picture back to Jeremiah. “She looks a little familiar. What did you say her name was?”
“Sophia,” Elsa said at the same time Jeremiah said, “Suzanne.”
“What we mean is, her name is Sophia Suzanne Godfrey. She could be going by any name, though,” Elsa explained.
“Oh, I do remember her. I saw her at a restaurant in town. I overhead her talking with another girl that I don’t know. She said something about leaving and going up to Boston I think.” I really hoped they couldn’t see through my poor lies.
“When was this?” Jeremiah questioned.
“Oh, I dunno. Maybe a week or so ago? I’m sure she’s long gone. I haven’t seen her since.”
“Well, thank you for your help, honey. Can you do us one more favor? Will you give us a call if you see her again? We’re desperate to know that she is safe. You can call us any time of the day.”
“Sure. I could do that,” I lied again, taking the little card on which Elsa had just scribbled a phone number and started to shut the door.
“We didn’t catch your name, dear?”
“Jamie,” I said without thinking. “Uhh . . . have a good night.” That time I quickly shut the door and locked it again. I watched through the peephole as Jeremiah and Elsa walked down the porch stairs and down the road, continuing on their way. When I couldn’t see them through the hole in the door anymore, I ran to the window and peered out through a gap in the curtains, watching as they rounded the corner at the end of the street. I breathed a sigh of relief and pulled out my phone, quickly dialing Peter’s cell.
“Hello?” He sounded surprised that I called again so soon.
“Peter. It’s Jamie.” I didn’t mean to and I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t. The tears started falling and I sobbed into the phone.
Peter was on high alert. “What’s wrong? Jamie, what happened? Is it Sophia?”
I tried to explain the best I could through the tears and was finally able to calm down.
“I’m sure they’ve moved on to another neighborhood. That was smart to try to lead them in the wrong direction,” he said, his voice coming out kind of choppy.
“What if they circled back and snuck into my house? They could be standing behind me listening to everything I’m telling you.” I shivered and looked around.
“Jamie, just stay put. If they’re lingering around and they see you bolt, you’re going to look suspicious. I’m sure if they really thought you knew something they would have
stayed longer or done something to you.” For some reason he sounded out of breath.
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep tonight. I’m so freaked out. I really wish Sophia was back so she could be on the lookout for spirits floating around.”
“Jamie, don’t freak out, but your doorbell is going to ring again.”
“What?”
“I ran over as soon as you called. I’m almost to your door so don’t freak out when I ring the bell.”
“Are you serious?”
“About coming over or about not freaking out?”
I looked out the window. Peter was starting up the front walk. I opened the door before he even had a chance to ring the bell and stepped into his arms. The tears came again.
“I feel like such a baby. You didn’t have to come all the way back here,” I said when I’d finally composed myself and let go of him.
He laughed. “I don’t mind at all. Guys like to play the role of protector, didn’t you know that?”
“Did you pass the Goodwins on the way over?”
“No, but there are multiple streets they could have turned down. I’m sure they’re well out of our neighborhood. Or else they went invisible.”
I shuddered. “So what do we do now?”
Peter looked around. “Let’s hide the stuff in the dining room first. In case they do come back, secretively or not, we don’t want to risk them seeing anything.”
We quickly stuffed the boxes in the small kitchen pantry and then looked around like lost puppies.
“Do you think we should call Jack or Rita?”
“I haven’t met Jack yet, but I think you were right about not getting them involved.”
“You’d like him.” I managed a smile.
“It sure is bright in here. Why are all your lights on?”
I blushed. “I was nervous.”
“Let’s turn some of them off. If any of your neighbors know that your Dad is out of town, they’ll wonder why the place is all lit up. If your neighbors come over, you can bet I won’t be spending the night.”
“You’re spending the night?”
“There’s no way I’m leaving you here by yourself.”
My night had just become very interesting. I looked down then and realized I was standing there in my fuzzy pink pajama pants and an old t-shirt with dancing teddy bears. My face burned even more. I couldn’t exactly go upstairs and change without Peter noticing and possibly saying something so I decided to just stick it out. The damage had already been done.
It was 10:30, but I was wide awake. I didn’t know if I would ever be able to sleep again. Together Peter and I grabbed a pile of blankets and pillows from an upstairs linen closet and made beds for ourselves in my living room. I took the couch and Peter, ever the cavalier one, took the floor. We popped a bowl of popcorn and sat down in front of the TV. There were a couple of late night comedy talk shows on and we watched them without much enthusiasm. The last time I remember looking at the clock it was about 1 a.m. I don’t know which of us fell asleep first, but I didn’t wake up again until my phone started ringing and vibrating around five-thirty. I’d never been so glad to hear Sophia’s voice in my life.
“Sophia,” I yelled into the phone. The sudden noise woke Peter and he jumped up and looked around. I covered the mouthpiece and mouthed happily, “It’s Sophia.”
“You’re mighty chipper for this time in the morning. I figured I’d be leaving a message on your voicemail.”
“There hasn’t been a lot of sleeping going on lately.”
“How come?”
“Well, for starters, Jeremiah and Elsa paid me a visit last night.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“I wish I was.” I could hear Nick in the background asking what was wrong. Sophia whispered to him and then came back on the line.
“What happened? Are they still there? What do they want? Why won’t they stop following me?”
“One question at a time, please.”
She paused before answering and inhaled sharply. “I heard a voice in the background. Are they there now?” she whispered into the phone.
“No. That’s Peter.”
“Peter’s there this early?”
“I was scared to be alone last night . . . so he stayed with me.”
“Oh. That was nice, I guess.”
I couldn’t see Sophia through the phone but I could sense a sly smile spreading across her face. I’m sure she patted herself on the back for pulling Peter into the crazy adventure and successfully getting us together.
“So, tell me everything that happened. And please, start at the beginning.”
I related to Sophia everything that had gone on the night before, starting when I stepped out onto the widow’s walk by myself after Peter had gone home. She was understandably upset that Jeremiah and Elsa were passing her picture around town. Many of our friends had seen Sophia with us around Marion and we were sure that if Jeremiah and Elsa kept pushing the subject, someone would eventually finger us. When Jeremiah and Elsa returned to my house, they would most likely not be as “friendly” as they had been the first time.
“Jamie? Nick and I are in Miami right now. We should be home in a few hours. Is there somewhere you can go until then so that you’re safe—somewhere with a lot of people?”
“Uhh . . . yeah. We’ll find someplace. Call as soon as you get here.”
“I will. Be safe.”
We hung up and I explained to Peter what the plan was. I wasn’t sure exactly how to proceed with my morning rituals. Should I shower while he’s here? It might be weird—plus, I don’t want to go upstairs alone.
I decided instead to change into some clean clothes and do a quick freshen up in the bathroom. I washed my face and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I used deodorant and a little mascara, glad I didn’t have an acne problem because otherwise I wouldn’t be able to get away with so little makeup. Finally, I dabbed the smallest of drops of perfume on my wrists and neck and ran back down the stairs, looking over my shoulder the entire way. Peter was just coming out of the kitchen, his face shining as if he had just splashed water on it. Now that the sun was up, my house didn’t feel quite as scary. I reversed what I’d done the night before and went around opening curtains and shades. If our visitors were going to return, I wanted to see them coming.
It was still early—barely after six—and I wasn’t sure where we should go. Peter’s stomach was already growling so we made packets of instant oatmeal for breakfast, taking it to the front porch to eat. The morning was a little cool and the air smelled salty from the breeze rolling in off the ocean. Usually I loved those kinds of mornings. When we finished our meager breakfast we packed the letters mentioning Jeremiah and Elsa, the photo of the Goodwin family, and my notebook into a bag and left my house.
We walked to a nearby park, stopping at Peter’s house on the way so he could change into some clean clothes. A lot of people liked to go for morning runs on the park’s paths and we thought it would be a good place to wait until stores started opening for business. We’d decide then where to go next.
I spent the time in the park reading one of the books I’d checked out from the library more than a week before. I wanted to lose myself in the story so that my mind would stop replaying the events of the night before. I offered another book to Peter, but he opted to lie in the grass and take a nap instead.
At eight o’clock my phone rang again. That time it was my dad, checking in with me for the day.
“How was your night?”
“It was okay,” I lied.
“You sound tired. Are you still in bed?”
I decided I better tell him the truth since I ran the risk of him hearing background noise. “Actually, I’m at the park right now.”
“The park? What in heaven’s name are you doing at the park this early in the morning?”
“I thought it would be a good idea to get some exercise. A lot of people come here to run or walk.”
My dad’s side of the phone was quiet for a moment. “Is someone there with you?”
“Uhh . . . Peter met me here. He wanted to exercise, too.” I kicked Peter as he snickered beside me on the grass. It was a lame excuse and we were definitely not getting any exercise.
“Well, okay, I guess,” Dad said hesitantly. “How was your day yesterday? You mentioned looking into your family history. Did you end up doing that?”
“Yeah, I did. Mom told me where to find some letters written by some of my great-grandparents. They were kind of interesting. One of the letters mentioned a mysterious trunk that was locked and the person who owned it couldn’t open it. It read just like a mystery and you know I like that, Dad.”
He laughed. “That does sound like something right up your alley. Maybe it’s the mystery trunk your Mom inherited from her parents that wouldn’t fit into the attic.”
“Huh?”
“You know, the trunk in my den.”
“No, I don’t know.”
“You really don’t remember? When we moved into the house we tried to haul that big old trunk your mother inherited up to the attic with the rest of her leftovers, but it was too hard to maneuver it up the spiral staircase in your room and up into the attic. We put it in the closet in my den—behind the bookcases.”
“Do you know what’s in the trunk?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Peter perked up and turned toward me with questioning eyes at the mention of the word “trunk.”
“Nope. Lillian just mentioned something about old family stuff. I don’t know that I’ve ever looked inside it.”
My heart raced. “Dad, would it be okay if I tried to open it? Mom told me I could go through her stuff.” I crossed my fingers and closed my eyes tight, hoping he would say yes, but knowing that if the answer was no I was going to open the trunk anyway.
“That’s fine with me and I’m sure your mom won’t care, either. It will give you something to do today, but please don’t make a mess of my den.”
“I won’t, Dad. I promise.” I grabbed Peter’s hand and squeezed it tight, nodding my head up and down as I did so. He could only hear my part of the conversation, but I think he’d gotten the gist of it.
“I better get going. It looks like I will make it home tomorrow rather than Saturday.”
“That’s great. I can’t wait to see you.”
I wasn’t sure if I was ready for Dad to come home or not. I didn’t like having to explain my odd behavior to him, but I liked the idea of not being alone at night. That night, Sophia and Nick would be back and then the next night Dad would be home.
“Did your dad just tell you that he knows where the trunk is?” Peter asked excitedly when I’d hung up.
“Yes,” I squealed. “I knew there was more to that part of the story. I had a strange feeling about it. The trunk in my dad’s den has to be the one that belonged to the Goodwins.”
“Want to go check right now?”
“No. I mean, yes, but we can’t. I promised Sophia we would stay in public view until she got here. Grrr, this is going to be a long day,” I groaned.
“We should probably tell Camille what’s going on.”
I looked at my watch. “You’re right, but I guarantee she’s not awake yet. Unless we want her to be a grouch all day, we better wait at least another hour until we call.”
“Fine, but now I’m anxious again. We need to do something to keep my mind busy.”
“We could actually exercise like I told my dad.”
“I don’t want to get all sweaty—and I’m in flip-flops.”
“I offered you a book to read.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha. Just what I hoped for,” he said sarcastically.
“Don’t you ever read?”
“Sure, whenever I have to in order to pass my classes at school.”
“Really, Peter? That’s just sad. You can learn so much from books. I thought you liked history.”
“I read the National Geographic. And honestly, I do read an occasional book for fun. I just don’t know how some people can read a book and, immediately upon finishing it and closing its cover, open up another one and begin to read again.”
“By ‘some people,’ you mean me.” It was a statement, not a question. I didn’t really take offense to it, though. It was pretty much the truth—until I met Sophia.
“There could be worse habits, I guess.”
I laughed. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who spends all his days playing video games.”
“I won’t lie. I do play video games, but I consider myself to be a well-rounded person. I already told you I read once in a while. I have a few favorite TV shows I watch. I get exercise when I’m hanging out with the guys . . . kicking a soccer ball around, hitting a baseball, throwing a Frisbee. Oh, and you know I’m great at going down slides.”
“How could I forget?” I laughed.
“Do you still like to play sports?”
“Honestly? Not that much anymore. I used to be somewhat of a tomboy. Whatever the guys were playing at recess, I was playing, too. The last few years I haven’t been as active, I guess. I pretty much get all my exercise from riding my bike everywhere.”
“Maybe we should change that. You can exercise with me this summer.”
“We might have to get our exercise running from scary ghosts, you know.”
“I hope we don’t ever have to see the ‘scary’ ghosts again,” Peter said, using his fingers to make the shape of quotation marks.
“That would be nice, but Peter—the more I think about it the more I’m convinced that Jeremiah and Elsa are somehow part of Sophia and Nick’s unfinished business.”
“Really? You don’t think it has anything to do with the Mary Celeste?”
“Honestly, no. I don’t. Every lead we’ve tried to follow about that ship has ended in nothing. We’ve gone over all the known facts a million times and there’ve been no new revelations. I don’t know for sure yet, but Sophia most likely even saw the remains of the Mary Celeste and she’s still here. But, every time we found something concerning the Goodwins yesterday, I had the sensation that we were on the right path. What if her way of extrication is somehow connected to the ghosts who were her captors for most of her real life?”
“Have you told Sophia about your idea?”
“Not yet. I didn’t start thinking about it until after she left for Haiti.”
“What do you think the business might be? Oh wait—never mind. I bet you think there’s something in the trunk.” He smiled.
“Yep.”
“Okay. It’s been an hour. Can we call Camille now?”
“Go for it.”