Harbinger in the Mist (Arms of Serendipity) (21 page)

Uriel had examined Eli’s downturned face for several moments, searching for any signs of weakness. Eli had not been able to bring himself to look the Rector in the eyes. That had been scary for him – he had never, ever had a problem being 100% sure of anything before. He had said the words aloud as if to reassure himself that Lindsey wasn’t anything more than a fragile creation of God’s that needed to be protected, that he would have no problems leaving when the problem was alleviated. But was that entirely true? Was it possible that she could be something more?

“Elion, we are not going to restrict you from –”

“Sir, with all due respect, I need to talk to you not about the girl, but about the house and the best way to get the trapped spirits to cross over.”

“Yes, yes. Do you have any ideas? What would you suggest?”

“I do believe that an expulsion is necessary, but I cannot do it alone. The girl went to a priest today and he gave her some advice. I believe that she is going to have him come out to bless the house. I would like to talk to him myself before I make any further plans.”

“Paters Michael and Camael both see you as the best man for this job, so I too will trust your judgment.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“And Elion, please take caution where the girl is concerned. We don’t want to lose you.”

Eli had nodded, bowed, and left the Rector’s chantry shaken. He tried to compose himself on the journey back to Retreat House.  He hid in his room, knowing that it would not be prudent to return to the party or to wait up for Lindsey. He had to distance himself.

But when he heard her open the front door his heart quivered in his chest and butterflies fluttered in his stomach. He had hoped that she’d knock on his door, inquire as to why he left. Part of him had hoped that she’d be worried that he was sick, that she’d check on him.

A weight landed in his belly when he heard her trot up the stairs. When he was sure that she was locked away in her bedroom, he rose and went into the living room. For most of the night, Eli sat on the sofa staring at the ceiling knowing that Lindsey was sleeping safely. He told himself that he was listening for the spirit, using his keen abilities to keep her protected when she was at her most vulnerable.

In reality, his heart was torn… he wanted to be able to share something as intimate and utterly exposed as sleep with her.

The wee hours of the morning found him pacing back and forth under her bedroom. He was troubled, scared. In the end what would he choose?  His calling or the girl?

Fifteen

Sadie was an older version of the twins – tall, long dark hair, and absolutely stunning. She walked up the stairs and down the hall, touching the walls, stroking the thin air, and whispering to herself. When she reached Lindsey’s bedroom she stopped abruptly and turned. She gravitated over to the left side of the room and stood silently for a moment. Although she was facing them, it was apparent that she couldn't
see
them. Her eyes were vacant, they were seeing another time.

“Here. It happened … here. I see a woman, a fair woman round with child. She is lying in a large bed over here by the window. The headboard is flush with the window seal. The evening light is causing her face to glisten… her blonde hair is plastered to her sweaty face … she is … in pain.”

Sadie turned and motioned to a corner in the room, “He is pacing there. He doesn't know what to do. He is blaming the servant for the illness … he is shouting that she isn't doing enough to help the mistress of the house.”

“What's wrong with her?” Lindsey asked. “Is she in labor?”

“No...” Sadie turned to face another direction, eyes still glazed over, and pointed. “The bedding is drenched in her sweat. She is crying, moaning. She fears for the baby’s life … she holds her stomach as if to protect the little life inside of it. She’s shaking and … and vomiting into a bowl held by the slave woman... the servant. She … the slave ... wipes the woman’s brow with a cloth and tries to soothe her... but the man,” Sadie pointed back to the corner, “the man is insane with worry, grief, and anger. The servant says that she’s done everything she can do, that the woman is ill from the bad air in the swamps... that she can’t do anything more than she is doing now... she says that she needs … what’s that? She needs ‘quinaquina’ ...”

“What does she mean, ‘bad air?’” Lindsey asked, looking over at Eli and Maddie.

“I don't know,” Maddie uttered, her eyes glued to her aunt as she roam around the room.

Sadie began to sob uncontrollably.

“She... she died in her sleep. The man’s beside himself. He’s heartbroken and he’s angry. He’s yelling at the servant to cut the baby out before it dies too … But the slave woman refuses. He’s holding a hunting knife over his dead wife’s body … he’s tempted to do it himself but he’s afraid that he’ll stab the baby.  The woman refuses to help. He …. he says that if she refuses to save his child, that if she wants the child dead...” Sadie, who had been talking rapidly just moments before, suddenly stopped and gasped. She fell to her knees and clutched her head.

“He … he says that he’ll kill her babies with his bare hands if she won’t help save his. Two slave lives for the life of one, more valuable white child, he’s shouting. But... she is begging... on her knees by the bed... saying that his wife was dead already so there was no hope for the baby. He... backhanded her... there is blood coming from her nose and lips. He … kicked her in the side, knocking her out of the way. She scuttles toward the door. He drops to his knees by the bed … by his dead wife. His face is buried in her breast and his body is heaving with unheard sobs. The slave woman slips silently out of the door.”

Sadie quickly jumped up, turned, and ran from the room with Lindsey, Eli, and Maddie on her heels.

“Where is she going?” Maddie asked, panting, as the psychic ran down the stairs.

“I don’t know,” Lindsey said as the woman disappeared around the corner.

They caught up with her in the living room. Sadie was standing in the far left corner near one of the windows that looking out of the windows that faced the ACE Basin. She touched the painting on the wall once and whispered something to herself. Then she turned and looked toward the kitchen.

“She ran in here. This wasn’t an open room back then. It was a small bedroom, a servant’s room. Her two babies are sleeping here alone since their mama had been tending the mistress of the house,” Sadie said, her eyes fogging over with the past again.

“She, she’s blocking the door with the dresser. Her two little boys are sleeping in the lumpy bed. They’re so little. Twins. Maybe 3 … 4 at the oldest. She knows that he’s coming to kill them soon. He is enraged with grief. She is fine with dying herself, but her babies … her babies... she thinks about waking them and sending them out of the window. But it’s so dark and they’re so young. Would they know to run to one of the slave houses and hide? The master had brought other slaves with him, but how could she let them know what was going on? For them to hide and protect her babies?

“She hears the master run down the stairs… the front door slams. She starts to rouse them, but there’s no time to get them to safety. She doesn’t want to send them into the night to get eaten by an alligator or a bear or worse, found by her master.

“Time! If only she had time! She can hear her master screaming to someone outside ... he would be back soon. She grabs the sheet off their little bodies and begins to make a sack to put them in. She’s going to try to make a run with them... she runs to open the window so that she can run out into the night with them.”

Sadie stood silently for a moment, watching a scene that they could not see. Tears slid down her cheeks and dripped off her chin.

“She can hear him … stomping on the porch. No time. She has no time. She doesn't want them to suffer. She scans the room, looking for a weapon, anything to help. She knows that he’ll be cruel. She has no other choice. He’s in the house, yelling. He bangs at the door... calling her vile names and telling her that it’s going to be an ‘eye for an eye’ tonight. The dresser is trembling in his attempts to shove the door open.”

Sadie was shaking, scared by what she was seeing. She spun around in the room, watching the vision play out.

“She sees a … some kind of a gun … a revolver … sticking out of a holder hanging on the wall beside a pair of her master pants that she was supposed to darn tomorrow.

“She grabs the wooden handle and pulls the pistol out. She knows that she’ll be hanged. She doesn’t care about that … but her babies. They will be killed, too, if he gets to them. She doesn’t have time to send them to safety. Would she be able to kill her master once he busted through the door? She’s holding the gun toward the door, but her hands are shaking so badly. She’s debating with herself. He is so big and fast. She is so little. And if she missed … oh, what would he do to her boys?

“What's that? There are other voices in the hall now. Her master is not alone. There are other men. White men. But how … how had he gotten help so quickly before trailing her? She is crying and panicked. She … she... NO!”

Sadie’s knees buckled and she fell to the floor in tears. Lindsey rushed over to her and wrapped her arms around the woman’s shoulders. “What? What happened?”

“She … she knows that there is no other way... she must take the little lives herself to prevent their suffering.”

Eli hissed, Maddie backed up to the wall, and Lindsey cried, “No!”

The psychic slowly got up and headed over to a spot near the sofa. “The bed's here... the babies are sleeping... their little brown faces so peaceful against the white pillows. The moon light is shining in the window on them like a ghastly spot light.”

She turned back to the open room. “The dresser is being budged … the men on the other side are strong … and angry … and ready for a lynching. They blame her for the wife’s death … they think she put a spell on her. They are going to lynch the babies right along with their mama. Tears are streaming down the slave’s face, mucus is dripping out of her nose.

“Her hand shakes as she lifts the heavy gun in the air and walks to the bed. The tears are dripping off of her cheeks... her cocoa lips are trembling … she pulls the trigger. One baby's head pours red across the moon-lit linens. The other baby sits up and screams. There's a heavy cloud of gun smoke hanging in the air. Can you smell it? Can you smell the spent gun powder?

“The men in the hall halt their attack on the door for the tiniest of a second. She cocks the pistol again, aims, and hits the other baby in the forehead before she hits the floor in grief.

“The dresser moves enough to allow the men to enter… there are three of them. She cocks the gun a third time. Despite her grief, she reaches out to hold her dead babies with one hand and tries to lift the gun to her own head … but it just clicks … the ammunition chambers are empty... Two of the men descend on her and haul her out of the room and the third tosses the dead babies over his shoulder like a pair of dead foxes.”

Sadie stood and ran to the door and out into the hallway. The others ran after her, following her to the front door and out of the house. She stopped below the largest live oak in the yard and pointed up.

“They’re tossing the end of a rope up there over that branch. The other two slaves heard the ruckus and are peeking around the side of the big house. They… the men are tying a second rope around the necks of the dead babies. She … the slave woman is crying so bad that she can’t stand up… she’s holding her hands out for her babies… she wants to hug them one last time… but the men laugh at her, taunt her.”

Sadie stopped and vomited all over the ground. When she was done, she stood, wiped the side of her mouth, and said, “They hung her there. They put the two babies in one noose and hung them beside her. She died looking into their mangled, dead faces.”

Sadie shook her head and closed her eyes. She stood there under the tree for several moments before opening her eyes and looking at the three of them standing in front of her.

“Lindsey, you need someone more powerful than just me for this house. I sense the slave woman and her children here, but they are harmless spirits. They might startle you a little with their antics, but I don’t sense that they do it intentionally. They have been here a long time. But the man… I sense him, too. And he definitely wishes you harm. I do not know why... but I feel his malevolent spirit in the home. I also sense that his spirit hasn’t always been here, that he was here at one time but left. He just recently reappeared. I don’t know why nor how – I’ve never heard of such a thing. The spirit of the slave has a renewed fear. It just doesn't make sense.”

They all stood, looking up in the branches of the moon-lit tree. The Spanish moss swayed in the breeze. After a few moments, Sadie turned and spoke to Lindsey.

“You know, when I was kid there were murmurings about the old lady that lived here and that the place was haunted, but it was more of a story used to dare younger kids to knock on her door or walk around the house at night. Now one ever really took it seriously. When she died, the rumors died. A new, younger woman moved in. She revamped the yards and made the house look majestic again. But no amount of gardening or exterior paint could get rid it of what was inside. This house needs to be cleansed and it’ll take more than one person. Do you mind if I call a couple of friends to come and help us out?”