Just a few months prior, I’d had my first vision quest. I don’t know much about my Native American heritage, thanks to the fact that my mom, whose ancestors were part of the Ute Tribe that used to live in our area of Hillcrest, Colorado, bailed on raising me, and left that to my totally Caucasian father.
During my vision quest, I saw the non-physical for the first time. I actually saw the spirit of my deceased Gran, to be exact. Since then, I'd seen several ghosts. The shimmery air over the rocking chair was familiar; I had a feeling that I was about to see a ghost.
I was vaguely aware that Ava was talking as she moved toward a trunk of clothes that was propped open in one corner of the room. I ignored her chatter, and instead focused on the shimmery air around the rocking chair. Sure enough, as I stilled my mind, focused, and waited with a sense of anticipation, a very faint form began to take shape.
I could barely make it out at first, but as I strengthened my concentration, the form started to get clearer. I could almost make out eyes, a nose, and long hair, when Penny’s voice intruded on my efforts.
“Try it on!” she said, as she shoved a bundle of silky material toward me.
“What?” I said, startled. As I spoke, the ghostly form faded.
Penny kept talking and thrusting the fabric at me. “This is the coolest shawl I’ve ever seen. Look at the fringe! Wrap it around your head… or maybe your waist over another skirt!”
I stared at her blankly. I was too shaken up by what I’d just witnessed to form a response.
I was just getting used to the fact that I was a witch. Now I had to wrap my mind around the fact that I could see ghosts, too. Would my life just continue to get weirder, the older I got? It seemed so.
Penny eyed me. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “You look like you just saw a --” she stopped short, and understanding seemed to dawn on her features. Her eyebrows popped up, and she grinned. “You did, didn’t you? You just saw a ghost! Oh my goodness, I bet it was Shirley! Tell us about it!”
Ava turned to us, with her arms full of colorful clothing. “What about my aunt Shirley?” she asked.
Penny answered before I could. “Marley can totally see ghosts. It’s a new thing. She just saw your aunt Shirley. I guess this is her hangout spot! She probably didn’t move on because, you know, she was murdered and all that.” She turned back to me. “Ask Shirley who murdered her!” she said with a big smile
I appreciated my friend’s enthusiasm but was feeling disturbed, not excited. I frowned as I pointed to the rocking chair. “Over there,” I said quietly. “On the rocker. It was a young woman… yeah, I guess probably Shirley. She was young when she died, wasn’t she?”
“She was twenty-six when she disappeared,” Ava said in a hushed tone. “It was the summer of ‘71.”
“I can’t… I can’t see her anymore,” I said.
There was something about the woman in the rocker that bothered me. She was anxious, and I picked up on that. “I sensed she wanted to tell me something,” I told Ava and Penny. “Do you guys mind giving me a few minutes alone in here so I can concentrate?”
“Oh, you have to do that whole zen-master meditation thing you told me about,” Penny said.
After I started seeing ghosts and having visions, I tried to teach my witch sisters to see the non-physical, too. I tried to explain how to reach the meditative state that I could naturally slip into, but apparently it wasn’t as easy for them as it was for me, because so far I was the only one in my coven who could do it.
“Yeah,” I said. I was already settling onto the floor cross-legged as Penny ushered Ava out of the room.
I let my gaze soften as I stared at the spot where I’d seen Shirley. My breathing dropped, my pulse slowed, and an emotion of curiosity filled me. I watched and waited, and soon the transparent form appeared again. This time, she was clearer.
She was wearing a long, flowing dress, a patchwork vest with fringe at the bottom, and a thick leather belt. Her hair was down around her shoulders, and she wore a braided leather headband across her forehead. Around her neck, I saw several necklaces. One had an owl on it, and one was silver, in the shape of a half-moon. She had a tattoo of a flower on one of her forearms.
Her pretty features focused on me, and she opened her mouth to speak. “You can see me?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, now I can,” I said. “Are you Shirley Allen?”
“Yes,” she said. Then she hesitated, and reached up to scratch her head, which tilted to the side with confusion. “At least, I was, back when I was alive… but I don't really know what, or who I am these days. I’ve forgotten so much… Every day just blends into the next. Can you help me? Can you help me get out of here? It’s been so long… years and years and years. The only way I can tell time is passing is that my niece Ava seems to get older. She used to be so young… just a child.”
She sounded so sad, confused, and desperate. I immediately wanted to help her.
“Shirley, I’ll do what I can to help you transition,” I promised. “I’m kind of a novice, but in my experience, ghosts need to find closure before they can move on to whatever comes next. I think you might still be here because you were killed. At least, you disappeared 50 years ago, and everyone figured you died. What do you remember?”
“Killed… yes,” she said. She stood up from the chair and began to pace. “Yes, yes… that’s right… I remember for years trying to find someone who could listen to me, so that I could tell them…”
“Tell them what?” I asked. “Do you remember what happened?”
A pained look crossed her face. “It was so hard to hold onto the memory, after I lost my body. I repeated the words over and over, and I tried to find someone who I could communicate with, so that I could pass on the message I was so desperate to get out. Ava sometimes seemed as though she could hear me, but she was the only one and it was only when she was young. Then, she grew up. She stopped listening. And I forgot the message I was trying to give, one word at a time. I’m afraid now I don't remember anything… It’s all gone.”
“What was the message about?” I asked.
“It was a list of evidence. I was so desperate to pass it on, because I wanted to see my killer go to jail.”
“Closure,” I murmured. “You were trying to get closure.” I looked at her for a moment. “Do you remember anything about your death? Even just a faint impression would be a lead to get us started.”
She shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “It slipped away. I can barely remember yesterday, now. Everyday I wander about… wishing for someone to talk to….” She looked at the doorway. “Is Ava here? Could you help me talk to her?”
I nodded. “She’s here,” I said. “I can help with that.”
For the next little while, I helped facilitate a visit between Ava and her aunt. It was nice to see them reunite after so long, but it was clear from the conversation that Shirley forgot almost everything about her earthly life. Ava seemed a touch disturbed to learn that her aunt had been living in the apartment for so many years. When the conversation came to a natural ending, Shirley and Ava both helped to come up with the perfect boho costume for my party duties.
With a bag stuffed with fringe-lined shawls, flowing skirts and dresses, and more bangles and beads than I’d ever seen in my life, I stepped out into the fresh air. It was a relief to get out of the smoke-filled apartment.
“Thanks again,” I said to Ava.
“No, thank you,” Ava said. She followed us out and then peeked over her shoulder before closing the door.
Once it was closed, she spoke in a hushed tone. “So, is my aunt just stuck here for good?” she asked. “I mean, I guess it’s nice to be able to talk to her, but she doesn’t seem to be very happy here. Is there anything we can do to help her, you know, transition to someplace that might be better?”
“Better than Hillcrest?” Penny said incredulously. “No way. We live in paradise! Yes, it’s cold and snowy for like eight month
s of the year, and maybe a little closed off from the rest of the world, but still, look at these views!” She motioned to the panoramic scene beyond the walkway, which included rocky, snow-capped peaks in all directions.
“You know what I mean,” Ava said
I did. “I’d love to help her transition,” I said. “But to do that, we’d have to figure out who killed her.”
“Oooh… a Halloween case,” Penny said.
I went on. “That’d be hard to do, seeing as she was killed over fifty years ago, and she doesn’t remember anything about her death. With no new leads, I don’t know how we’d even begin to investigate.” I pulled on the end of my braid thoughtfully, and then said. “Hey, Ava, she did say something that I thought was pretty interesting.”
“What?” Ava asked.
“She said that she used to have a message, some kind of list of evidence that she thought would be helpful for tracking down her killer. She said she used to repeat the message over and over so that she’d remember it. She also said that when you were younger, you showed signs of hearing her. Do you remember that at all?”
Ava looked puzzled. “Hearing Aunt Shirley? No… surely I’d remember that.”
Ava furrowed her brow. “But that bit about a repetitive message does ring a bell. My mother and I moved into this apartment when I was ten, just after Aunt Shirley died. A few months after moving in, Mother had to take me to a childhood shrink in Melrose, because I kept writing the same words down when I was supposed to be doing my homework. The therapist said it was compulsive behavior or something like that. I remember I had to do lots of play acting with puppets. I didn’t like it one bit -- I thought it was a big waste of time.”
“What do you mean you were writing the same words down?” I asked.
“Just words that I couldn’t stop thinking about,” Ava said. “I’d try to think of other things, but it was like I couldn’t. I turned the words into little songs, and the songs just wouldn’t leave my head. Something about half of a bug and his beaver friend or something like that.”
“Weird,” said Penny.
“Do you happen to have any of the old homework assignments?” I asked. I was curious to see what the words were. “You could have been picking up on some kind of telepathic communication with your aunt. Maybe the words you couldn't get out of your head were the words that she was so desperate to communicate.”
“You think?” Ava raised her brows. “Well, that would be interesting, wouldn't it.”
She screwed her lips to the side, as if she was thinking hard. “I think I tossed out all my old papers from elementary school… but I do have something else that might be just as good. I’ll be right back. “
She popped back into the apartment and returned a few moments later with a folder in her hands. She started leafing through the papers in the folder. “My medical records,” she explained. “I’m sure I kept the notes from that therapist I was working with in Melrose. Let’s see here. Ah ha!”
She pulled a paper out of the stack triumphantly, and scanned it. “Yes! It has a note about the words I was ‘obsessing’ about. He calls it a ‘compulsive thought.’ Maybe I should call him up and tell him it was a telepathic message from a ghost.”
She handed the paper to me, and then pointed to a line of text. Penny leaned over my shoulder to read along with me.
The printed words stood alone on the page.
Patient obsesses over one repetitive thought, which is always composed of the same words, in varying orders. The words are as follows: Coin stain of bug pond other beaver on half
“That looks like gibberish,” Penny said. “What’s a coin stain? And what could ‘beaver on half’ mean?”
“The words are jumbled up,” I said. “These are clues. Shirley said the message she was trying to get out was a list of evidence.”
I looked at Ava. “Thanks. This is a good start. Penny and I will do what we can to get closure for your aunt about who killed her. Can I keep this piece of paper for a little while?”
“Sure, you can have it,” Ava said. “Thanks for your help. See you at the dance tonight?”
“See you there,” I promised.
As Penny and I descended the stairs, Penny spoke up. “How are we supposed to find out who killed Shirley? This is a cold case, and that list doesn’t seem very helpful to me. Bugs, beavers, and stained coins… what the heck is that all about?”
I had an idea. “I don’t really know,” I said. “But it’s a nice day out. How would you feel about a little swimming?”
Penny looked at me like I was crazy. “You mean, blow off helping Shirley's ghost and just go swimming instead, even though it’s late October and the water is probably ice cold? That’s kind of random.”
We reached the sidewalk. I shook my head. “It’s not really random. I think we should go swimming in Beaver Pond. Think about it -- no one ever found Shirley’s body. This list of jumbled up clues has the word ‘pond’ on it. The only pond I can think of is Beaver Pond, and ‘beaver’ is also on the list. What if Shirley was trying to pass along the message that her body is in Beaver Pond?”
Penny’s eyes widened. “Wow! You are so right! Swimming it is! But Mar… If someone threw Shirley’s body into that pond fifty years ago, the fish probably feasted for a few weeks, and then all that was left of her was bones.”
“Gross!” I said. I was tempted to call off our search altogether, but the thought of Shirley’s sad confusion stopped me. “So what about the bones?” I asked Penny.
“They’ve probably decomposed by now, too,” Penny said. “The best we can hope for is some piece of non-organic matter that wouldn’t break down over all those decades. I think plastic could last for fifty years, and same with metal. Maybe she had an artificial knee or something, or a cavity filling…”
“Or a distinctive ring or something,” I suggested.“But how would we find something that small?”
“Magic,” Penny suggested.
I had to agree. Sometimes being a witch comes in awfully handy, and this seemed to be one of those times. We loaded into my vintage VW van, and headed for Beaver Pond.
2
Ten minutes later, Penny and I stood on the shore of Beaver Pond. The pond’s inky black depths were made a little less ominous by the bright yellow aspen leaves and blue sky reflected on the glassy surface. No one else was on the shore but us.
Penny had already transformed herself into a mermaid, and she sat on the pond's shore with her shimmery purple tail half in the water. “It’s not that cold,” she said. “I think the Mermaid Spell makes the water feel more comfortable. Mermaids must have some kind of special layers of insulation fat or something.”
She scooched farther into the pond.
I repeated the spell that I’d just heard her use, and instantly I found myself sitting on the shore beside her, with a long leaf-green tail spread out along the pebble and sand beach.
“Wow, you’re right. The water feels totally comfortable.” I tested it out with one hand. “It’s just the murkiness that I’m not crazy about. Why is it so murky?”
“Who knows?” Penny said. “It’s probably just because of sediment and, like, weeds and fish poop and stuff.” She took on a mock scary tone. “And dead corpses… just waiting ‘til you dive in so they can reach up from the depths and grab you!” She reached for my arm and squeezed.
I pulled away from her grasp. “Ew, fish poop.” I sighed. “Well. I guess it’s all just natural, organic stuff. It shouldn’t be so bad. Okay… let’s do this.”
I wiggled my tail until I was farther into the pond, and then splish-splashed my way to submersion.
Being in the dark green water helped me feel focused. I thought about the task at hand. Penny and I were on a search for a clue. We didn’t know what, exactly, which meant that we faced almost impossible odds for finding anything amidst the weeds and… well… fish poop.
When something seems impossible, that’s a great time to use magic.
&nbs
p; I felt movement behind me, and turned. Penny had just belly-flopped into the water. She took a moment to recuperate from her un-graceful entrance, and then gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up.
It was time. I hoped that with both of us using the Desire Spell to help us, we’d find a clue quickly.
It was strange to move my tail, but after a few test motions I got the hang of swimming, and it was really fun. I propelled myself forward, farther into the depths of the dark pond. I let my gaze travel over the bottom. I was waiting for something to catch my eye, but as I swam, all I saw was dark weeds waving back and forth, and a few algae covered rocks that poked up amidst the weeds. I turned to check on Penny. She was slicing through the water at my side. As I looked at her, she pointed, and started swimming faster.
I felt a vague pulling sensation, as if the area of the pond that Penny was pointing towards was magnetic, and was drawing us in. We got closer, and the feeling intensified. Yes, Penny was right. There was a clue somewhere near for us.
I swam down closer to the bottom and let my hand trail over the frilly, wavering, dark green plants. I let my hand move and move and move, until I felt the impulse to stop.
I lowered my palm into the soft mud that the plants grew up from.
My fingers touched silky mud. Then, I felt something hard. It felt like metal, and it was small, with a sharp corner and also a smooth, round part. I grasped it and pulled it out.
With the object safely in one hand, I gave Penny a thumbs up with the other. We both turned and swam toward the surface of the pond.
Once we’d transformed back into our human forms, we sat on a log side by side and examined the object. It was a silver disc that had been cut in half. A hole was drilled into the top of it, and a chain fitted through the hole. For some reason, it looked familiar to me, but I couldn’t quite figure out why.
“It’s a necklace,” Penny said.
Cold Cases and Haunted Places Page 9