The Spirit Who Loved Me: Spirit Whispers Book One (5 page)

I did my
best to avoid annoying Mr. T, Mr. Thompson that is, as I tapped the eraser of my pencil against the wooden desk top impatiently, waiting to be freed for lunch. He was a pretty decent teacher. He actually tried, in vain in my case, to describe the workings behind Algebra II. I was a good student overall, but math was my weakness, oh, and science could be a “B” too if it involved a bunch of equations like my Chemistry class. But I tried my best, and now I wondered briefly if the couple of days I’d missed would put me hopelessly behind.

“Did you need something, Miss Haggart?”

“No, sir, Mr. Thompson.” He gave me a brief nod. Manners in the South were the Holy Grail when dealing with adults. Throw in a “sir” or a “ma’am” and you’d be all right. At times, I would wonder what Yankee kids did.

Finally, the bell rang, and I made my way to the lunch room and waited in the line that seemed to stretch to infinity. I wondered if it was worth the wait today, but my lunch was free and part of me hated to miss out on a good meal. And then it hit me, I probably didn’t have to do this anymore. I had my own money, not yet, but soon. I liked the thought of that, and I could feel warmth flooding through me with a new found confidence. I, Krystal Abigail Haggart, was now well off enough that I could buy my own damn lunch, thank you very much, or bring something really good from home. Hell, yeah. I pulled off my backpack, and did a quick inventory to see if I had a pack of malt Lance cookies, my backup staple. Success! They were a little crumbly around the edges, but they’d do for today.

I gratefully left the line with a spring in my step, musing, when my “allowance” would be starting. I looked out into the courtyard for Malcom or Tammy, and there they were, enjoying the warm autumn sunshine while it lasted. The trees were vibrant hues of yellows, oranges and reds. The light shining through the leaves made the trees appear as if they were full of their own fiery light, oh, so gorgeous. Tammy always brought her lunch, and she was munching on a red delicious, the juice running from the corners of her mouth making us laugh. Malcom picked at his lunch of beefy nachos, and I was glad that I’d dodged that bullet. Yuck.

I sat on the little brick wall next to Malcom, giving him a little bump. “Hey, how are you doing?”

“Fine,” he answered solemnly.

“Lie to me all you want, Malcom White,” I said frankly. “But I can tell you are so not “fine,” adding air quotations for emphasis.

Tammy gave me dirty look, but I wasn’t giving in.

“So what’s up?” I asked. “I can tell its eating you, time to spill.”

And he told me basically what Tammy told me earlier in the morning.

“Last night was just awful,” he continued. “Candace just won’t drop this imaginary friend thing. She was bawling over it. I think my parents are at their wits end. They are taking her to see her doctor today to see if she needs to go ahead and be evaluated.”

“I would have never guessed when ya’ll came by for the wake. Candace seemed fine to me.”

“That’s just it. At school she’s fine too. Mom checked with her teacher and filled her in about what’s been going on at home. Her teacher did say some days Candace seems really tired. Mom said probably from playing with her “friend” during the night, but other than that, she has been doing well at school.”

“What if she’s right?”

Malcolm and I looked at Tammy like she’d grown an extra head, and I did not dare say a word.

“Well? Didn’t you even think of the possibility? What if she can see someone or something?” Tammy mused.

Malcom still didn’t say anything in response. I guess it’s up to me, I reckoned.

“Hush now, you, before anyone hears you, and they start talking ‘bout hauling you away to be evaluated,” my voice was all business.

“I’m serious. It’s a known fact that kids are more sensitive to paranormal activity. A lot of kids can see ghosts, but when they get grown they lose the ability because they don’t believe anymore. Sort of like Santa Claus.”

“A known fact? Tammy,” I said, my voice low, “Don’t you think you’re being insensitive right now?”

“I think we should at least explore the possibility,” she continued, turning to Malcom. “I know you don’t want your sister taken away. This may be her only chance.”

“What do you suggest?” he asked.

“We try and prove that Candace’s right.”

“And if it is all in her head?” I asked.

“Then we convince her to drop the charade for her own good.”

“Okay.” Malcom’s answer was low I could barely even hear it.

On the ride
home, butterflies danced in my stomach as I typed a text to my mom from Tammy’s cell letting her know that I was heading over to Tammy’s after school for a math cramming session. I hated to lie to my mom, but I didn’t think “ghost hunting session” would go over as well, plus Bobby would freak if he knew I was going to be at Malcom’s. I returned the phone to Tammy.

“Girl, soon as ya get that first check, you and I are heading to Walmart and hooking you up!” She exclaimed. We gave each other a fist bump and did a shimmy in our seats.

I looked across the aisle at Malcom, who couldn’t help but crack a little grin at our antics. “If we get dropped off at your house, think your mom or dad would drive us on over to Tammy’s?”

“I’m sure they won’t mind.”

Before long, we were at his house on the bus route. Most of the houses in Malcom’s neighborhood were composed of ranch houses built in the seventies and eighties. I was only about another ten miles or so down the same road. I could already feel the bus slowing down, and I could see the indecision written all over Malcom’s face. The bus came to a stop, squealing brakes and all, across the street from his house. The bus driver forced the door open as it squeaked in resistance. I was going to have to sneak a bottle of WD40 in here for sure, I mused. I could see the driver’s eyes looking in the rear view mirror to see if Malcom was coming. He sat frozen in his seat.

I nodded to Malcom and turned to Tammy. “Let’s go scope everything out.” We grabbed our backpacks and filed out behind Malcom.

“Getting off here today, Ma’am,” I said to the driver.

“Me too,” seconded Tammy.

“Alright youngins, be careful,” she added eyeing us. Not too many white girls got off in the African American community, and it was the first time I’d gotten off at Malcom’s stop, in gosh, probably a couple years at least. I sighed, feeling frustrated, wondering why people felt the need to judge.

“Doesn’t look like anybody’s home, Malcolm,” I said as I noticed the lack of cars in the gravel driveway.

“Mom must still be at the doctor’s with Candace.” Malcom’s voice was thick with worry. “Mom was supposed to call this morning for an appointment, must not have been able to get an early one.”

“Gotta key?” asked Tammy.

“Oh, yeah,” and he pulled it out of his jeans pocket to show us.

The house was silent as dark shadows played on the walls, the weak autumn sunlight beginning to fade away, but it still didn’t feel like a haunted house to me when we walked in. It felt real peaceful, like a home should, and I felt a pang of longing as I remembered all of the past afternoons spent playing here with Malcom when I was little. Or littler rather, I conceded. Damn Bobby and his stupid prejudices.

Malcom picked up the house phone and called his mom on her cell phone.

“Hey, Mom. How’s Candace?”

“Okay. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh. When are you going to be back?”

Tammy and I looked at the numerous school pictures and family photos placed carefully out on white shelves as we eavesdropped on the one sided conversation. Hey, we’re not perfect.

“These are new,” I slipped, looking at a picture of the White family from a Christmas past.

“Oh, yeah. They look good don’t they?”

“Oops, I didn’t realize I even said that out loud.” I let out a nervous giggle.

With a sigh, Tammy said, “How long has it been since we’ve all been here?”

“Too long,” Malcom answered for me. We turned to see Malcom staring vacantly at us.

“So, what’s the news?” I asked.

“Doc said maybe schizophrenia,” he struggled to pronounce the word, “or something else psychological. Mom said the doc doesn’t think she needs to be hospitalized right now because she’s not a danger to herself or anyone else.” He rolled his eyes, and shook his head. “He’s going to refer her to a pediatric psychologist. They’re on their way back now.”

“All the more reason to get started.” Tammy clasped her hands together to hide her growing impatience. “So, where is most of the activity taking place? We should take a quick looksee before they get here.”

“Her room, obviously.” He started on down the hallway, and Tammy and I followed dutifully behind. Candace’s room hadn’t changed all that much since I’d been there last. The walls were still the same pale shade of pink with cheerful butterflies bordering the walls, and dozens of stuffed animals covered her princess canopy bed. I reached over and flipped the light switch on. Dead.

“Is it just me, or what’s up with all the lights, lately?” I lamented.

Malcom squeezed behind me and gave the switch a couple of good flips off and on, and the room flashed to life.

“Just you.”

“Okay, Tammy. Now what? You’re the expert.”

“Um….”

I could almost see the wheels turning in her brain, and I raised my eyebrows, “Let’s get this show on the road,” I joked.

“Oh, I know.” With purpose in her step, she walked the few steps until she reached the center of Candace’s little room. She squared her shoulders, and took a deep, shaky breath. “If there is a spirit in this room with us, make your presence known.” Thinking better of it, she added, “Please.”

As the seconds ticked by, my doubt grew with each and every one. I began to speak, but before I could get a word out, I saw something move in my peripheral vision.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” exclaimed Tammy.

Out from underneath Candace’s bed rolled a brightly colored rainbow ball. Its progress was slow and steady, but it kept rolling until it reached Tammy’s feet and stopped. My mouth hung open in shock. Tammy’s eyes were so large I could see the whites around her baby blues, but bravely she stood her ground. She cleared her throat.

“Kris, go get my phone,” her voice soft. But I was frozen in place. “Kris,” Tammy’s voice, sharper this time, got me moving.

I went out to the living room, checking for her phone. I fumbled around for seconds that seemed to stretch into minutes as I tried to find the phone in Tammy’s mess of a backpack. Finally, I found the damn thing somehow tucked in a notebook, and I jogged back and placed the bejeweled phone in Tammy’s palm.

“Took you long enough,” she griped between gritted teeth.

“Not my fault your backpack is such a pig sty,” I flashed her a fake grin so big she could see my gums.

“Later, ya’ll.”

I had to admit Malcom was right, but the stress was getting to me.

Tammy got her phone ready and held it out in front of her.

“Okay. Spirit, thank you for showing us. Can you please do that again?” Tammy asked sweetly as she held her phone at the ready.

Instantly, the ball was on the move. It rolled back to the bed, stopping at the bed skirt for a moment before rolling back to rest at Tammy’s feet. Fascination was written all over Tammy’s face.

“Did you get it?” asked Malcom.

Tammy nodded and held up a finger. “Spirit. Thank you. But it is now time for you to move on…” Tammy seemed to lose her train of thought.

“To the light,” I added in a whisper.

“Yes, spirit, it is time for you to go into the light where you belong,” Tammy continued. The ball started rolling around again, faster and faster across the room, bouncing lightly against the walls as it did so. Tammy finally had the sense to start looking a little scared, and Malcom, well, he looked like he was going to faint.

“What was that?” I paused more certain this time. Giggling. I could hear a small child giggling. “Did you hear that?”

“No, no, no, noooooooo, nooooooooo, nooooooooo.”
The childlike voice playfully chanted. More giggles followed.

“Don’t you hear that?” I asked franticly, my voice rising a couple of octaves, but my friends were so awestruck by events that my questions didn’t even seem to register to Malcom or Tammy.

The bulb in the light fixture began to glow brighter and brighter, unnaturally so, the intense brightness forcing us to close our eyes, and I wondered why in hell weren’t we running as fast as possible in the opposite direction.

The POP as the bulb finally blew was as loud as a gunshot and had the three of diving to the floor, covered us with little shards of glass. I had never in all my years heard a light bulb blow so loudly or had one actually burst. Almost simultaneously, I could hear keys jingling in the front door announcing Malcom’s mom was home, Candace in tow, not granting the three of us even a moment to gather our wits, our breaths coming in uneven, ragged gasps. At least I’m not the only sissy.

“Malcom?” His mom called. “Malcom? Where are you?” She turned on the hallway light. “Are your friends still…..” She stopped midsentence, peering at us from the doorway of Candace’s room.

What a sight we must have been, the three of us sprawled on the floor of her daughter’s room, in the dark to boot. I could see Candace’s lovely saucer eyes peering around her mother’s back. I couldn’t have been anymore embarrassed if she’d actually found us all naked. Okay, so maybe in that case, but you know what I mean.

“Oh, hell,” I muttered under my breath. I was the first one to get to my feet, helping both Tammy and Malcom up as well, while Candace and Malcom’s mom continued to stare at us. I hugged my friends briefly, which for once in their lives had apparently lost the ability to speak. Figures.

I went to stand in front of Malcom’s mom, taking both her hands in my own, and looked into her confused eyes. With a heartfelt sigh, I began to speak. “Mrs. White. I don’t know what Malcom has told you.” Which I knew was positively a big fat nothing so far. “But we really need to sit down and have a talk. With Mr. White too, if possible. When are you expecting him home?”

“Within the hour.”

“Great. How about we help you make dinner?”