Conjuring Sight (Becky Jo Chronicles Book 1) (7 page)

I am still contemplating the latest turn of events when the air in my room turns cold – very cold. I can see my breath as I breathe. I start to shiver just as my lights begin flickering on and off.  I am no longer alone. My chest tightens as something invisible constrains my body. My mind screams with fear, but I can’t open my lips to verbalize my feelings. I can’t see my visitor, but somehow, I know he’s there.  Things start flying off my bookshelves, and eerie laughter from a familiar voice causes chills to go up my spine. I am frozen with fear as I watch my room being torn apart. The words of a prayer by William Penn fill my mind.
O God, help us not to despise or oppose what we do not understand.
I try to keep this in mind in an attempt to chase away my fear.

Right before dawn, the specter leaves me shivering on my bed. I collapse in a pile of fear and exhaustion.

Twenty minutes later, I hear footsteps outside my window accompanied by someone singing
Dixie
. I fearfully peek out my window. Colonel Blair, Gabe, and Henry appear as they do each morning, walking down the path with their hoes. Like always, they don’t notice me. I think I’ve lost my mind, until Henry’s eyes quickly flicker towards my window. They definitely know I’m here, and they know I can see them. My life just took another nightmarish turn.

“Becky Jo, what have you done in here?” Sunny exclaims as she walks into my room.

“What can you tell me about Henry?” I quickly ask.

“Oh,” Sunny says, pursing her lips. “He visited you last night.”

“Visit is the wrong word. Henry haunted me last night, scaring me out of my wits.”

“I’m surprised. Henry has always been such a peaceful spirit.” She starts picking up books.

“My room looks like it’s been hit by a hurricane! Henry isn’t exactly peaceful,” I say with frustration. “Why would he do this?”

Sunny shakes her head. “We’ll need to do some research. Ghosts always have reasons for doing what they do. Take the spirit, Rosie, down at the Gold Hill Hotel.  She’s always moving guests’ keys around because she was a former housekeeper. We just need to find out what Henry’s doing.”

I walk quickly up the hill. At the top I take a deep breath. I’m not proud to admit it, but I have been avoiding Clara for the past two days. I can see ghosts! I am such an utter freak that I don’t want to drag the poor girl into my nightmarish delusions. It’s best if I just keep my distance.

I begin the long and lonely walk home as the sun goes down, thinking about being haunted by the scary ghost in heavy boots and Henry. The singing ghost has visited me three nights in a row, and I don’t know how to get him to stop. Yesterday morning, Marina saw his mess before she left for work and hired an exterminator to rid her house of the only creature capable, in her mind, of doing such destruction – squirrels. I’ve got to do something about Henry before Marina hires and, subsequently, fires every exterminator in the county.

I am a half mile from Marina’s house when a small truck with California license plates comes down the road. I move to the side of the road to make room for it, so I’m confused when it doesn’t pass me. I turn to find it parked next to the road. A man is getting out of the driver’s seat. I increase my walking speed to a jog, wishing I had brought my cell phone along. I can see ghosts, but they don’t give me nearly the bad feeling I get from the man following me.

I slowly turn around. When I catch a glimpse of his face, it causes chills to run up and down my spine. His skin has a greenish hue and looks to be too tight for his skull. His tight skin makes his eyes bulge. His neck is on his body wrong, almost like it doesn’t fit. He is really creepy.  And, as if his looks aren’t bad enough, the man also reeks like something crawled in his mouth and died. He laughs when he sees my eyes.

“Looky what I found!” the man hiccups from behind me. He is obviously drunk. “Why don’t you come join the party, baby?”

“No, thank you. I’m just getting some fresh air,” I tell him, not slowing my pace.

“You can come enjoy the fresh air with me. I’m sure we can find you a drink.”

“No, thank you.” I increase my speed.

He chases me down the dirt road.

“Come on, don’t you know who I am? I’m Mr. Goodtime.” Being much faster than me, he grabs my arm. He is impossibly strong. “You’re not leaving until I say!”

I am very frightened. I follow the instructions Mama taught me in case of an emergency. I kick him between the legs. It’s all the distraction I need.  I know I didn’t hurt him, but it surprises him enough to let me go. I take off running. I hear him swear and begin running after me.

I think I’m going to make it to the safety of Marina’s house when I trip over a rock. I fall on the road.

The creep begins laughing while he advances on me. “It’s like taking candy from a baby.”

Terrified, my lips rapidly mumble St. Augustine of Hippo, “Grant us in all our duties your help, in all our perplexities your guidance, in all our dangers your protection!”

It’s as though my pray has been answered. Suddenly, something hits the man in the face. He desperately swings his arms at his attacker, but he never makes contact. He looks around the empty road until he shakes his head.

“You’re not worth it!” he spits before storming back to his truck. He yells out the door before he drives away, “Ghost, you will regret this!”

I stare at the small truck until it disappears from view. I have no idea what that guy was, but I do know he wasn’t human.

“Ma’am, are you hurt?” a soft-spoken voice asks.

I shake my head, staring up at my handsome rescuer.

Colonel Blair helps me to my feet with his icy grip.

“Thank you,” I find my tongue.

He inclines his head and starts to walk down the road.

I take a deep breath.  I go after him.

“Colonel Blair, why have you been ignoring me?  Didn’t you hear me trying to talk to you?” I ask, catching pace with the ghost.

“Yes, Ma’am, I heard you,” he says in a gentle voice. “But I’ve tried to keep my distance because it’s best if our kind don’t mix.”

“If you feel that way, then why does Henry scare me out of my wits every night?” I demand.

“I suspect he’s just playing with you.”

“He’s going to give me a heart attack!”

Colonel Blair laughs, and it’s almost like music to hear something that joyful coming from the sorrowful spirit. “Crazy Henry couldn’t hurt a fly. He’s the gentlest soul on the planet.”

“That is beside the point, and I think it’s rather rude of you to wake me up each day and then ignore me when I try to talk to you.”

“Ma’am, some words of advice: wear the amulet you have in your room, shut your window so we don’t bother you in the mornings, run in the opposite direction when you see me, always take your walks with the squaw, and never, I mean never, go near the mines behind in Gold Canyon.” With that, Colonel Blair simply disappears.

*     *     *

“Are you sure he called him ‘Crazy Henry?’” Sunny asks as she burns grits for breakfast.

“Yes, he said he was a gentle soul and wouldn’t hurt a fly. He also said that he was probably just playing with me.” I look imploringly into her face. “Do you know what that green guy was?”

Both of Sunny’s eyes stare off into space. “I know what he was, but I wish I didn’t. The Cursed are created with very black magic.”

“What exactly are these ‘Cursed?’” I question.

“You will know them as zombies.”

I start to laugh. She really had me going for a moment there.

She shakes her head. “Becky Jo, I’m telling the truth. Not all witches are good. There are spells – evil spells – which can bring corpses back to life. It isn’t natural and the results are extremely dangerous. The Cursed no longer feel pain and are inconceivably strong. It is a miracle you were able to get away, even with Colonel Blair’s help.”

“Could he really hurt the Colonel?”

Sunny smiles faintly as she shakes her head. “It would take a very powerful witch or warlock to even have a conversation with a ghost like Colonel Blair, and they would find the Colonel exceptionally uncooperative.”

She’s right, the Colonel is exceptionally uncooperative.

“Do you know why he told me to stay away from the mines?” I ask.

“Samuel haunts the mines, and he is the wickedest ghost there ever was. I only go to the mines when I have to, and I always wear a few amulets.” She turns her attention back to the grits.

“Why does he stay in the mines?”

“First, that’s where he killed himself. Second, Colonel Blair’s presence keeps him there. He’s afraid of the Colonel, as well he should be. Like in life, Colonel Blair is a very powerful being in death.”

“Good morning, ladies.” Marina walks into the kitchen, wearing a business suit. She sits at the table. “What are your plans today?”

“Sunny and I are going to the library,” I answer.

She raises an eyebrow. “You’re not using the laptop? I thought the library was outdated for teenagers?”

“It is, unless you’re doing a history project,” Sunny answers, putting Marina’s breakfast in front of her. “Becky Jo has been helping me do some research about my house.”

*     *     *

“Becky Jo, we’ve found it!” Sunny excitedly whispers to me in the city archives later that day. “See here, Mary Blair Thomas gave a statement about James’s, Gabe’s, and Henry’s deaths a couple weeks after they happened. She said:

‘My great nephew, Colonel Blair, was a good and decent man who is sorely missed. However, justice was not served the night Gabriel and Simple Henry were lynched for his murder. Neither Gabe nor Henry had anything to gain from James’s murder but, rather, everything to lose. Gabe was James’s most trusted servant.  He fought alongside him during Sheridan’s Ride in an attempt to protect him. He loved James like an uncle and would have freely given his life to save James from harm. Henry was just as loyal. When James was merely seven years old, he saw Henry being auctioned off at a slave market. Henry had been severely mistreated by his previous owner, being beat within an inch of his life. He was childlike for the rest of his life because of it. During the auction, Henry was frightened but sang loudly to calm himself. No one else would bid for the strange, lame boy, but James took the small amount of money a child has in his pocket and gave it to the auctioneer. He then took Henry’s hand and patiently led him home. The two boys were inseparable from that moment on. Yes, Henry was childlike, but he was also very kind. The dogs would run to him as soon as they heard his voice, and he had a way with horses I’ve never before, and I’ll never see again. He never hurt any animal entrusted to his care, sparing the whip even with the wildest horses. Why would he kill his oldest and dearest friend? He was mentally and emotionally incapable of such a task.’”

Sunny shuts the book. “Colonel Blair told you that Henry was playing with you, but he didn’t mean it in the sense that he is teasing you. He meant it literally. Henry is looking for a playmate. He may be an adult, but he has the mental capacity of a child.”

“So, what do we do to keep Marina from firing another exterminator?”

“We give Henry something to play with.”

*     *     *

Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star
softly starts playing the background. I open my eyes to see lights dancing across my walls. I notice a figure sitting on the floor at the foot of my bed playing with a musical toy. I carefully climb out of bed and sit by Henry. His dark eyes sparkle as he makes the toy play the song again.

“Pretty,” he says.

“Do you like it, Henry?” I ask.

He nods, lifting his hands to catch the lights.

“You can play with it whenever you want,” I tell him. “Did you see the other toys?”

“I like the puppy,” he answers, pointing to the stuffed dog at my feet.

I pick it up and press its tummy, making it bark softly. Henry squeals and claps his hands.

We spend the rest of the night playing with the toys. Henry is so kind and innocent, I don’t know how I was ever frightened of him.

He is carefully brushing the manes of the miniature horses Sunny and I bought him, making the horses neigh with delight when he abruptly stops.

“I go to Massa James,” he says.

I look at the window and see it’s almost dawn. “Will you be back?” I ask.

“Yes, Becky Jo is my friend. I come every night.” With that Henry disappears.

I smile because I never told Henry my name.

When the boys walk past that morning, Henry is belting out Dixie as loud as ever, but when I peek out the window, he smiles and waves excitedly at me. I have become friends with a ghost.  A ghost I wish had lived a long life because the world was surely a darker place the day he was murdered. I spend the next hour weeping at the thought.

*     *     *

The bell rings as the door shuts. I glance around the store, grateful there are other customers. The cashier doesn’t notice as I slip into the side room. I’m disappointed to find a room filled only with antique clothing. I’ve been a complete jerk and need to apologize to Clara. Unfortunately, she seems to also be avoiding me.

“I’m sorry, Clara,” I whisper softly to myself. “I’m sorry I’m a freak and treated you bad. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, and I don’t want to lose you.”

I turn toward the door with the thought of retracing our many walks to find her. Clara appears from behind a clothing rack, making me jump back in surprise. I was right, she was hiding from me.

Without a word, Clara throws her arms around me, indicating that my apology has been accepted. It will be good to have my friend back.

*     *     *

A sliver of moon isn’t enough to light the desert. I blink my eyes quickly, trying to get them accustomed to the dark. I know I haven’t succeeded when I step into a hole and fall on a pile of rocks. Thankfully I’m not hurt, but I feel rather stupid. Sunny is walking around the desert with the strength and vitality of a teenager, whereas, I’m walking around the desert like a blind, clumsy, old lady.

“Sunny, where are you?” I ask in the still of the night.

“Oh, goodness! Let me help you up!” She’s instantly tugging at my arm.

“Why can you see so well in the dark?” I ask as she helps me to my feet.

“I’m a witch. I just have a different kind of sight than you. I have to be able to see well in the dark to do my work.”

I dust myself off, even though no one can see it, including myself. “And what are we doing in the desert in the middle of the night?”

“Becky Jo, we’re not exactly in the desert.” She flips on a small flashlight. I involuntarily inhale. We are surrounded by tombstones of every shape and size. “These are the Silver Terrace Cemeteries.”

I can see why the clusters of tombstones are considered more than one cemetery. The graves are arranged in small groups, surrounded by cast iron fences. Instead of being one large cemetery, there are several smaller cemeteries. Regardless of the terminology, it’s still a scary place.

My voice drops to a whisper. “And why are we here?”

“I doubt the creature that attacked you came from these old graves, but we have to check.  Besides, we might get lucky – Zombies love graveyards. If we can find him, we can try to destroy him to stop his rampage. Then we will make it difficult for anyone to create more zombies in Virginia City.” I’m confused until she passes me a large, heavy bucket. “Spread this on each of the graves. A little bit goes a long way.”