Ashlyn's Radio (33 page)

Read Ashlyn's Radio Online

Authors: Heather Doherty,Norah Wilson

BOOK: Ashlyn's Radio
12.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

And though Ashlyn knew she couldn’t reach out and touch him, under the bright and full moon of the October sky, she could see him clearly. She felt incredibly blessed to have that much. He looked just like his yearbook photo, right down to that crooked smile that now warmed her heart. His eyes were filled with affection, and yes, tinged with fatherly pride.

“You’ve got your mother’s eyes,” he said.

“And … your chin.” Ashlyn stammered. “Mom always said I had your chin, and I can see it now.”

Even as she said the words, she was thinking,
My God, he’s just my age.

Patrick Murphy laughed. “You … you remind me so much of Leslie.”

“The Caverhill green eyes,” she acknowledged.

“More than that.”

Ashlyn wet her lips. “Is that how you knew I was your daughter? Because I looked so much like Mom? Like she used to look?”

Patrick shrugged. “I’d know you anywhere, baby girl.”

“You never met me.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re mine.”

Tears ached in Ashlyn’s throat. Years’ worth of lonesome welled up inside and spilled out with her words. “Then … then why did you leave me? Why did you get on that train all those years ago? Why did you take that ticket out? Away from me? Didn’t you want me?”

“Oh, Ashlyn.” His warm brown eyes filled with pain. “I wanted you more than I ever wanted anything. Right from the start, from the very moment Leslie told me she was pregnant. You were mine then. There was no question about keeping you. Never. I didn’t get on the train to get away from my responsibility. I wasn’t trying to get away from you. Never from you.”

“Why did you do it then?”

“I got on the train to save you.”

Ashlyn stumbled a step backwards, then steadied herself as her world whirled around. She’d been so sure her father had taken his life because of her. But now….

But now she didn’t know.

“Ashlyn,” he said. “The radio—”

“You can hear the radio?”

“No, but Leslie always could. We had no secrets between us and whenever she heard the radio, we went downstairs. She repeated every word, sang every song that the radio played, so I could hear it too.”

“Maudette let her listen?”

“Well … not exactly. Maudette was working at the bank. I’d walk Leslie home every day after school. She’d invite me in and we’d — er, study.”

Ashlyn grinned.
Right, study.

Some things never changed.

“That radio told us so much,” her father continued. “Accidents about to happen, football games lost or won. My father was up for a promotion, and we knew he got it before he did. And before Leslie even suspected she was pregnant with you, the radio told us you were a girl.”

“That must have been scary.”

“Not at all. Your mother and I, we knew we loved each other. Knew we wanted to marry and have a family. Even as we sat on those basement stairs that very day the radio told us you were on the way, we started picking out names. I was the one who wanted to call you Ashlyn. The name fit you somehow even then. My God, it fits you now.”

She wet her lips. “It’s Ashlyn Patricia.”

Patrick smiled. “Leslie named you after me.” Her father drew a deep, deep breath, as if the night air was the first he’d pulled into his lungs in … a lifetime. Her lifetime. “Despite how elated your mother and I were, our happiness was short lived,” he said. “The radio started telling us other things. Your mother hesitated as she repeated the words to me, and I knew she was scared. But still, she told me everything that the radio said about our baby. About you, Ashlyn. About your future. Your fate.”

“What did it say?”

“It sang of you. It sang of the little green-eyed girl growing up and—”

“Let me guess,” Ashlyn interrupted. “She’ll get on board the train, and her life won’t be the same.”

“And the conductor would be there to greet you when you came.” Patrick shook his head. “I knew the legend of the ghost train. And the conductor. Everyone around here did. I … I couldn’t let that happen.

“Leslie swore we’d fight this fate. We’d move away from Prescott Junction and never come back. We’d leave the state. The country! Heck, we were even ready to head to Australia. That was our plan. And we thought, absolutely, we’d do whatever we had to to make sure you were safe.”

“But the radio didn’t let up,” Ashlyn said. “The lyrics didn’t change.”

“No, it kept singing how you’d get on board the train. Even as we packed. Even as we planned how we’d get away. The song kept repeating no matter how we tried to change the fate. I didn’t know when you’d board that train, Ashlyn. But I knew if the conductor wanted you bad enough, he’d pull you to him someday, somehow. No matter how far away Leslie took you. And I knew I had to be there for you when he tried to. I had to get on board myself, so I’d be there--”

“To save me.”

“To save you.”

Ashlyn’s eyes filled with tears. “But why did the conductor want me so badly? I’m nothing special.”

“Ashlyn Caverhill with the Caverhill green eyes. Everything started with your great-grandmother. I don’t even think she knew how powerful of a psychic she was. But it was her powers that made Prescott Junction a place where the train would always return. It’s in your blood Ashlyn. In your genes. Probably as rare as that shade of green in your eyes, but every bit as real. And when the radio sang to Leslie of how the train could only be stopped at the end of the line, Leslie didn’t want to believe it. But I had to. That meant you. You were the conductor’s only threat. If you hadn’t stopped him, nothing would have. He needed for you to take a ticket. Lure you in. I had to board the train. I had to be there. If ever you needed me, baby girl, I had to be there.”

Caden came to stand beside Ashlyn, slipping an arm around her automatically. Then he snatched his arm back, as though suddenly realizing the young man he was standing before was her father.

Ashlyn bit down on the giggle. Caden actually looked
older
than Patrick Murphy. Or at least he would have if he weren’t looking so nervous.

She drew a breath.
This was it.
She was finally going to introduce a young man to her father. It would have to be the introduction of a lifetime.

Maybe it would be.

“Er … Dad?”

He smiled widely at her use of the dad word. “Yes?”

“This is Caden Williams. My boyfriend.”

Ashlyn held her breath as Patrick raised a scrutinizing eyebrow and looked Caden up and down. It struck her then that her father had been stuck on that train for 18 years, while society’s mores evolved. If Caden’s family constituted the majority of the black population in Prescott Junction today when a black president led the country, how foreign and frightening would the prospect be for her father? On the other hand, he would have shared that train for 18 years with Caden’s great uncle’s shade….

Patrick’s gaze returned to Ashlyn. “Is he good to you?”

She smiled tremulously. “The best.”

She moved close to Caden’s side, sliding an arm around his waist. He put his arm around her again.

“Then he’s all right by me.” With a shrug, he gestured to Caden. “I’d shake your hand but….”

“No problem, sir. I want you to know … I really love your daughter.”

Ashlyn squeezed him closer.

“You’re standing on these tracks with her,” Patrick said, “tonight of all nights. You must love her.”

With tear-misted eyes, Ashlyn watched her father turn his gaze upward, toward the stars that sparkled — surely just for him. He drew another breath, this one deeper still. A look of complete peace came over his face. Of glowing calm. Of soulful rest. “I’ve got to go, baby girl.”

Ashlyn felt a tug down inside her heart. She wanted to beg him to stay. Just for tonight. Just for a little while longer. Just for … forever.

A tear slid anew down her cheek as she watched the rapture on her father’s face. “Thank you. For saving me. For warning me. For getting on that train all those years ago so you could be there for me tonight.” She drew a shaky breath. “For loving me.”

“I’ve always loved you, baby girl. And I always will.”

Caden wrapped his arms around Ashlyn and they both took a step back, but she couldn’t take her eyes off her father. Suddenly, and with a whoop and a great laugh, Patrick threw his ticket up into the air. It turned in the bright night, then just disappeared. Joy overflowed from Patrick Murphy as his shade slowly ascended. Then slowly disappeared.

“My dad loves me, Caden.”

“He always has.”

Ashlyn slid her hand into Caden’s, wiping the happy tears away as they walked silently up the tracks. The empty spot … the father-shaped one she’d carried for so long, didn’t seem that empty now.

“Oh, wow! Look!” Caden said. They’d just stepped onto the train bridge, and the station was just coming into sight.

“More souls!” She laughed. “More free souls!”

She and Caden raced to the station. Hundreds of shades wandered around the tracks, the station yard, even along the platform before them.

As her father had, many simply marveled at the night. Some of them smiled or laughed out loud. Some of the shades embraced each other.

A couple of them — what had to be young soldiers judging by their clothing — were standing beside Rachel. Rachel was raising her hands to them in what could only be construed as a ticket-throwing gesture. All at once, they understood. And it was a peaceful look that claimed the soldiers’ faces as this troubled girl showed them how to throw their tickets away.

“Omigod … it’s Gramps!”

It was Caden’s turn to dash away now, and Ashlyn could barely keep up as he ran toward the station. When he jumped up onto the platform, she hung back, just as he had when she met her father. She felt tears welling again as Caden approached an elderly black man — obviously his grandfather, Davis Williams — standing alongside the tracks. The elder Mr. Williams looked a little confused and very tired. Oh, but he looked joyous! For he watched the shade of a tall, straight-backed young soldier marching directly toward him.

The shade stopped a few feet from Caden’s grandfather, and there was a moment of absolute recognition, and then one of pure elation.

“James!” Davis exhaled the words on a sigh. He raised a shaking hand. “You … you’re—”

“I’m home, big brother. Finally home from the war. My body fell down in Italy. And now my soul can find its place.” He looked at the ticket in his hand, shook his head. “I can let my soul go now. There’s finally peace in my death.”

Joy shone on Davis’s face as his brother tossed his ticket. “And there’s finally peace in my life.”

And for a few blessed moments, Caden’s grandfather looked so young as he stood tall, watching his brother’s soul ascend and disappear amongst the stars in this brilliant night.

Then the old man staggered and Caden grabbed his arm.

“Gramps, are you okay? Gramps, it’s me … Caden.”

The smiling old man reached up and touched his grandson’s face. “Everything’s fine, Caden. Finally. I know it with every bone in this old body … everything’s fine again. James is at peace. My brother’s soul is free.”

Ashlyn turned as a hand gently touched her arm. Her eyes widened as she looked up at the tall man standing at her side.

“Professor Williams! I….”

“I tried to stop my father from coming out tonight. But he threatened to walk down here himself if I didn’t drive him. I … I didn’t really believe….” Professor Williams’ chin trembled and his voice broke as he continued. “Your grandmother told me what you did here tonight. She told me about the radio and how it played and how you risked everything, young lady, for the souls on board that train.  I believe now. I believe in all of it. Thank you for what you did for my uncle, and my father.” He looked around, shaking his head and marveling at the souls re-uniting with family, and those who were finally heaven-bound. “Thank you for what you did for all of them. I … I never would have believed it.”

“I would.”

Ashlyn turned to the trembling voice, as Caden’s father stepped away.

“Maudette!” Impulsively, she wrapped her arms around her grandmother, but she wasn’t sure if was to give or seek comfort. “I’m so sorry I made you worry,” she said.

“Don’t be. You did what you had to do. I guess … maybe what you always had to do.”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Ashlyn whispered. “Did the radio tell you I’d gotten on the train?” 

Swallowing hard, Maudette could only nod.

“I’m so sor--”

With a finger to Ashlyn’s lips, Maudette again silenced her apology. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” she said, pulling back from the hug. When Maudette stepped aside, two ticket-holding souls stood behind her. Smiling. Waiting patiently. “Ashlyn,” Maudette said. “This is your great Uncle Colby — my brother — and my friend, Polly.”

“Thank you,” they said simultaneously. But those were the only words, the last two words the souls could utter before they tossed their tickets and peacefully faded away.

All the souls, every one that remained did the same now, and they rose high above the Prescott Junction night — finally, finally free. Ashlyn watched as Paulette Degagne flung her ticket high in the air. She paused to throw a grateful kiss to Ashlyn, and then she too ascended.

“Polly told me,” Maudette said, and she waited until Ashlyn met her eyes before she continued. “It wasn’t my fault she got on the train. She’d been so scared. Thought she’d been so alone. Thought that she had only one ticket out.”

“And you carried that for years … thinking it was your fault.”

Maudette smiled. “But not anymore.”

“No,” Ashlyn said. “Not anymore.” She chewed her lip a moment, then plunged in. “Maudette, I have to ask you something. Rachel Riley … things are not good at home. And I told her—”

“She’s welcome, Ashlyn. Bring her home to stay with us.”

“Thank you … Grammy.”

Maudette’s eyes simply sparkled behind the happy tears. “You’re welcome my green-eyed girl. Your mother … she’ll be so proud.”

Ashlyn turned to search out Caden, who was walking his father and grandfather back to the car. Professor Williams turned as Caden helped his elderly grandfather into his seat. He smiled and waved. Ashlyn and Maudette waved back.

Other books

Purity in Death by J. D. Robb
Fledgling by OCTAVIA E. BUTLER
Little Doll by Melissa Jane
My Dearest Jonah by Matthew Crow
Trail Angel by Derek Catron