“That’s true,” he said, as if he’d had a lifetime of experience chasing ghosts in dusty attics. He sucked on his teeth, twisting his lips in thought. “I don’t have a key. I’m not even sure there is a key. I’d have to ask Daphne and Tobe.”
“That’s okay, I’ll head on downstairs and ask them myself.”
“They just left.”
“Where to?” Eddie asked.
“Tobe had to meet with someone in Charleston on some kind of business. He’s always got his hands in different things. My sister went so they could go out to eat later. They’re not used to all this home cooking.”
A short gasp hissed behind Jessica. She whirled to see Eddie on the end of Jason’s bed, holding his head.
“Are you all right?” Paul asked.
“Just a headache. I get them a lot,” Eddie said. He scrunched his eyes, taking several slow breaths. “I’ll be fine. They go as quickly as they come.”
Alice gingerly walked across the room, placing her pale hand on his forehead. “Would you like a cold washcloth, Mr. Home? Mommy always gets me one when I have a fever or my head hurts.”
He patted her hand. “Thank you, Alice. I’m already feeling better.”
Jessica caught his eye.
Time to make our exit.
“Well,” she said, “we have the whole week to explore. I’ll talk to them when they get back. Sorry to interrupt your reading time.”
The kids looked at her, imploring with their big eyes to stay. It must have been pretty boring out there with no other children to talk to or play with. They probably craved distraction. She and Eddie fit that bill, all right.
“I’ll have dinner ready at seven,” Paul said. “Nothing fancy. I’m firing up the grill out back and making hamburgers and corn on the cob.”
“Sounds delicious. See you in a little while, guys,” Jessica said.
Paul closed the door behind them.
Eddie clasped her arm, walking her downstairs and outside by the front of the house.
“He’s lying,” he said.
“You think Daphne and Tobe are still on the island?”
“No, they’re really gone. But when he was talking, the EBs started screaming. It was like being at a football game when the ref blows a call.”
“So what are they saying?”
“Paul knows about the attic. He just doesn’t want us to know…yet.”
The gentle raps on the door startled Nina D’Arcangela from her catnap. Light afternoon naps were part of a routine she’d established many years ago. As a dyed-in-the-wool night owl, she’d learned the value of a quiet lie-down when the sun was high.
She patted her hair down, the static from the sheets tugging at the ends. “Coming, coming.”
She opened the door but found no one there.
Must have dreamt it, she thought.
Just as she was about to retreat back to her suite, she spotted a sealed envelope on the floor. Nina flicked it open with the sharp edge of a nail. A sheet of cream-colored stationery had been folded in half. It simply read “Tomorrow”.
Letting the door close behind her, she dropped the note and envelope on a glass topped coffee table, returning to the bedroom.
Better get as much rest as I can. It’s all heavy lifting from here.
Truth be told, Ormsby Island unnerved her. From the first moment she’d stepped onto the dock, she wondered if she’d gotten in over her head. Telling people what they wanted to hear by contacting their deceased loved ones (sometimes catching faded glimpses of the actual mothers, husbands, children, you name it, most times not) in the comfort of her living room was one thing. But she had wanted to branch out, to become something more than a housebound psychic. Even if ninety percent of her gift was knowing just the right thing to say to a person in need—because no one came to her unless they needed something, most times, closure—hadn’t she always wanted a bigger, brighter stage? Now was not the time for fear.
What unsettled her most was the intense surge of clairvoyance that had filled her during the first séance she conducted with the Harpers on the island. It was as if the realm between the living and the dead had been opened wide for her. At times, she felt as if she was merely a tool being manipulated by something she couldn’t quite grasp. There was no need for clever tricks and lines of questioning. Information came to her from the ether. For the most part, all she needed to do was ask and it was provided. After returning from the island she tried it again in her hotel room, but came up with nothing. If she was a radio, the island was the electrical outlet. It was intense and strange and invigorating all at once.
And what about the game of deception that had been played up to this point? That wasn’t a worry she could take on. No sense losing beauty sleep over that one. Life was a con. The trick was to be on the right side of the Three-card Monte table.
She closed her eyes, conjuring up an image of her childhood home. Her mind’s eye recreated every nook and cranny of the house on Highland Avenue in Lake George. She heard her mother humming to herself as she did the ironing in the laundry room, just off the kitchen. By the time she crept up the steps to her bedroom with its posters of the Sex Pistols and The Ramones, sleep had cradled her within its arms, whispering voices from the past, present and beyond.
Chapter Fifteen
“Boy, Jessica has some appetite,” Paul said as they carried the dirty plates into the house. The little barbecue on the back patio had really hit the spot. Paul had also gotten the fire pit going even though it was early on a summer night. The whole setup reminded Eddie of harvest festivals in North Carolina in October.
“She does and there is no shame in her game,” Eddie joked, craning his neck to make sure she was out of earshot. Because of his misgivings about Paul, he made it a point to buddy-up to the man. In the past, he could have pried into Paul’s mind as easily as opening a can of sardines.
He wasn’t kidding when he told Jessica he was broken. Out here, especially, there was just too much psychic noise for him to center on any one thing. It was unsettling to think he was at the mercy of the horde of EBs congregating on Ormsby Island.
Just have to do things the hard way, he thought, giving Paul a conspiratorial wink. Or what the rest of the world would consider the normal way.
It didn’t make things any easier that everywhere he went, he walked through the evanescent shade of a deceased child.
Why are there so many children here? Are Alice and Jason drawing them in? Is it Jessica? Or are they all trapped on the island? And if they are, what the hell went on here?
“I think I’ll take Jessica out for a walk, try to burn off some of those burgers,” Eddie said to Paul after loading up the sink. Jason and Alice stood on little stools so they could wash and dry the dishes.
“Will you be back after we take our baths?” Alice asked.
He patted her head. “Of course. We have nowhere else to go.”
“Good. Then you and Jessica can read us a story.” Her smile nearly melted his heart. It was hard not to pick her up and give her a bear hug every time he looked at her. He’d never been this way with kids before. Actually, he’d never had much interaction with them. Maybe my daddy instincts are waking up.
Smiling, he said, “I’d like that. You pick out the story.”
“I’ve got one in mind already,” Jason said, swiping a wet plate with his towel.
Eddie spotted Jessica in the yard. The sun was still out beyond the trees, but outside it looked like midnight. “See you two in a little bit.”
A large, though still childlike EB—he looked to be in his late teens—stood between Eddie and the door. He sidestepped the EB teen awkwardly and hoped Paul and the kids didn’t witness his clumsy exit. There was something about the mass of that EB that made his unconscious mind think he couldn’t just walk through it.