A Touch of Gold (22 page)

It was getting close to three P.M., and only a handful of potential customers were walking up and down the boardwalk. Most of them were locals—which was good for Shayla and Trudy, who had their weekly regulars. Missing Pieces mostly depended on the tourist crowd. Business picked up a little around the holidays, but winter was a long, slow time for me.

I straightened up the shop again after Trudy and Shayla left. I picked up a few items to explore their origins. I was getting better at controlling this new ability, more able to learn from it.

I found that some of the items I thought were treasures were fakes. I hated that, but it was bound to happen once in a while. Some other pieces I thought were mostly junk turned out to be great stuff—I raised their prices.

Feeling confident of what I could do, I picked up my carved African hand mirror that I loved so much. I always kept it behind the counter so customers would know it wasn’t for sale. I had a basic idea of where it had come from—the old man at the market in Charleston had told me it once belonged to an African princess. But what I saw today wasn’t what I’d expected.

Beyond pain. Beyond fear. Longing for death that wouldn’t come. No way out. Trapped and caged.

I looked at my arms and legs—they were covered with open sores, broken and swollen. The pain of hunger and thirst were not as bad as knowing that death was the only escape. I looked in the mirror and saw the ravaged face of a black slave gazing back at me. She would never make the trip to the market alive.

An African princess, the man in Charleston had told me. Had he known she was a dying slave?

I was on the floor, vomiting and crying, my whole body shaking violently. When I could get up, I sat behind the counter for a long time, glad that no one had come into the store. It was hard to get back into myself without the terrible shadow of the woman in the mirror gnawing at my soul.

So much for confidence. So much for not being scared to touch anything. Kevin had been right about losing myself in this new ability. He hadn’t been here to catch me this time—no one had. The terrible stench of death and decay—the fear and hopelessness—were still with me.

When I could stand again, I cleaned up the mess behind the counter and washed my face. I put on gloves to move the mirror to the storage area in the back of the shop. I could never use it or appreciate its beauty again. But I couldn’t sell it right away either. Maybe not ever.

I mechanically turned off the lights, closed up and locked the door behind me. I sat on the boardwalk for a long time, looking at the sound. There were things in life much more terrible than being accused of a crime I knew I didn’t commit. The hand mirror had shown me that.

It was dark and getting colder—my knee was aching with it. I felt in my pocket and realized I’d left my cell phone in the shop. There were a dozen missed calls from various people. Exhausted and emotionally drained, I ignored them and headed home.

Kevin waylaid me in the parking lot. “Sorry I couldn’t get to my phone when you called earlier. I called you back six times. Are you ignoring me or is this punishment for not answering your call?”

I looked at him and wanted to explain but couldn’t. “I’m not feeling very well. It’s been a bad day. I think I should go home.”

“Dae?” He stopped me. “Can I help? At least let me give you a ride.”

I agreed—it was easier than arguing. We sat silently in the truck as he drove the short distance to my house. I couldn’t talk about anything without blubbering all over. As much as I’d wanted to tell him about Brad’s accusations, I couldn’t without telling him about my beautiful hand mirror. I wasn’t ready for that yet.

“Thanks.” I got out of the truck and headed up to the house.

He got out too and walked me to the door. “Whatever it is, I wish you’d tell me. Even if I can’t help, at least I can listen.”

“Not tonight. I can’t. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I went inside, told Gramps I was going upstairs. I heard him talking to Kevin downstairs less than five minutes later. I pulled the covers up over me—shoes and all—my head too. Why couldn’t they leave me alone to sort this out?

There was a knock on the bedroom door. “Dae?” It was Gramps.

“Go away. Please.”

“I want to talk to you.”

“Is Kevin out there too?”

“No.” A pause while he decided if he should lie to me. “He’s downstairs. We’re both worried about you.”

“Don’t be. I’m fine. I’m going to take a nap. I’ll eat something later.”

“Dae—”

“
Please
, Gramps.” I was already sniffly. “I’ll come down when I can talk about this. When it’s all sorted out in my head. Okay?”

“All right. I’m here if you need me.”

“Thanks.”

 

 

I
cried—a good, long, hard cry. But this one was cleansing. I must’ve fallen asleep afterward because I woke up and looked at the clock. It was almost midnight. I felt better. I was out of tears and the terrible sorrow had passed. It left me hungry and ready to raid the fridge.
Bad news if my new abilities made me hungry all the time and I gained a lot of weight.

I put on my Duck pajamas, dark blue with the sandaled Duck mascot on the back. Gramps was still up, watching an old Doris Day movie on cable. He turned it off when he saw me. “I know what you need. Scrambled eggs and toast.”

“Add some hot tea and you’ve got a deal. Thanks, Gramps.”

We talked about generalities while he made the eggs and toast. I made a big mug of tea and put too much sugar in it, but it was good.

“Kevin was here until about an hour ago. He’s not much of a pinochle player.” He laughed to himself.

I smiled at the idea of Gramps teaching Kevin to play pinochle. “Maybe not but I think he’s a good person. A little broody maybe.”

“I think so too. You make a good couple. Broody and all.”

“Thanks.”

“You know we never had that talk you promised me the other night. I’ve been willing to overlook it until now. Maybe now would be a good time for it.” Gramps put the eggs and toast on a plate in front of me and took a seat. “Or we could sharpen up your pinochle skills.”

“All right! No torture. I’ll tell you what I know.”

Chapter 15

“A
s far as I know, your grandmother never experienced anything like this.” Gramps was pacing by the time I finished talking. “Is it safe? Is this something you should be doing?”

“It’s not like anyone asked my permission. It started before I left the hospital.” I told him about what happened to Kevin’s FBI partner.

“That doesn’t reassure me, Dae.” His brow was furrowed with concern. “If Kevin’s partner couldn’t handle this ramped-up power, what makes you think you can?”

“Because I’ve been dealing with this all my life. Maybe she hadn’t. Because I come from good Banker stock and Mom taught me everything she knew about how Grandma took care of it.”

“That didn’t seem to have helped you much when you got home.”

“I know. But that was exceptional, Gramps. I wasn’t ready for it. I won’t forget to be ready next time. I won’t let it take me by surprise again.”

He took a deep breath. “I guess there’s not much choice anyway. But I wish you’d told me sooner.”

“Why? So you could worry longer?” I finished my eggs and toast. “I’m sorry. I wanted to understand it better.”

“And do you?”

“Sort of.” I put my plate and cup in the sink. “I’m going over to Kevin’s so I can explain to him. He’s probably worried too.”

“All right. But take the golf cart.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know—just do it or no going out this late. Duck isn’t the same town you grew up in thirty years ago, honey. Take some precautions. I’m going to call that Brad Spitzer first thing in the morning and let him have a piece of my mind.”

“Don’t do that. I can take care of myself. Besides, like you said, he was only fishing. He was hoping he’d catch something he could use because his best suspect is inconveniently dead.”

“Maybe I said that, but I didn’t mean it for
me
. Go on to Kevin’s. Call me when you get there.”

I hugged him and made him promise he wouldn’t call Brad in the morning. That’s all I needed to get around—the mayor has her grandpa calling to complain about how she was treated. He’d done that once in school, supposedly because I didn’t have a father. Mom and I made him swear he’d never do it again. It had shadowed me all the way to high school.

I didn’t take the golf cart when I went out. It wasn’t like the cart could help me get away from anyone. I could run faster than it could move. I started to call Kevin but decided against it. I wanted to walk. If his lights weren’t on when I got there, I’d go back home.

Night shadows haunted the wind-tortured bushes and shrubs, investing every old house and narrow street with ghosts that flickered between lights. It could be easy to mistake the mournful cry of a dove or the sleepy call of a lonely seabird as the sighs of a restless spirit.

Sometimes I thought that’s all the haunts were in this place—light and shadow mixed with odd noises. The wind never ceased, and the ocean always pounded at the shore. What must it have been like before streetlights and other modern conveniences? How easy was it to believe in pirate ghosts and curses back then?

I’d wanted to believe in ghosts since my mother died, but as the years rolled on with no sign of her, I began to feel like I’d never see her or talk to her again. The father I had never known wasn’t so much a loss. I didn’t seem to need him because I had my mom and Gramps.

My ghosts seemed to be made more of loss and anger than grave and spirit. Wouldn’t my mother come to me if she knew how important it was? Unless ghosts really didn’t exist.

I wasn’t ready to give up yet, but I wondered sometimes. Duck wasn’t like other places where people didn’t seem to believe in the spirit world. I’d found that out when I went off to college. People there didn’t talk about their dead relatives or wonder if a candle flickering was a spirit moving through the room.

Here, most people had seen ghosts, even talked to them. They never told their children ghosts didn’t exist. Our ancestors’ spirits were as much a part of our lives as our living relatives.

I got to the Blue Whale without seeing any ghosts or assailants ready to jump out at me. There was a spotlight on the mermaid fountain in the middle of the circle drive. It was always left on—like the porch light—so I couldn’t tell from that whether Kevin was still awake or not. But there was a light on in the kitchen area attached to the bar. I decided to take my chances and knock at the door.

If he wasn’t awake he might not hear me. But the door opened right away, and he smiled when he saw me. “Dae!” He held me close for a long time before he finally kissed me. “I’m so glad you came over.”

“Thanks.” His welcome made me feel warm and cozy inside. “I wasn’t sure about the time. I know it’s late. I should’ve called.”

“You never have to call. Come by whenever you like.”

I felt a little guilty about not talking to him earlier. He seemed genuinely worried, and I knew I could’ve relieved that if I’d been able to tell him everything that had happened. Maybe having this extra ability also meant being extra emotional.

We walked into the lobby, where I immediately stopped short. The collection of historic items had more than doubled since I’d last been here. “We have too much history.” I shook my head over the amount of old furniture, clothes, tools, boat parts and other paraphernalia. I couldn’t even see most of it because it was in boxes. “Where are we going to put everything?”

“I don’t know. I hear they’re having a meeting about it Monday night. Carter Hatley told me that Vergie Smith told him someone was donating a house for the new museum.”

“A house? That would be wonderful if it’s true.”

“Do you want something to drink? I have wine, coffee, tea and soda. If you’re hungry, I still have some gnocchi left over from dinner.”

“No thanks. I came to talk to you about what happened today—yesterday. When you picked me up, I knew I wouldn’t be able to talk about it without crying. I know it sounds silly, but it affected me very deeply.”

“Let’s sit down,” he said.

“Good night, Kevin.” Celia seemed to come out of nowhere as she started up the stairs. “Thanks again for letting us stay here.”

She blew him a kiss. I tried not to look as surprised as I felt. “You have Celia, Vicky
and
Agnes staying here?”

“How could I take one and not the other two? They might all be in danger. And it’s not like there isn’t enough room.”

“You are truly a pillar of the Duck community.”

“Thanks.” He sat beside me on the sofa, one arm behind me. “You were saying?”

I told him about Brad and the African hand mirror. The tale was getting shorter with the telling. I didn’t want to linger too much on the details of the hand mirror incident. But when I’d finished, he looked a lot like Gramps had.