Harbinger in the Mist (Arms of Serendipity) (25 page)

Sadie called later the next day to schedule a meeting to talk about the findings from their investigation. Lindsey wanted to wait until Aimee left for Columbia, which meant she had to make it through the weekend. She hated keeping this from her mother, but she wasn’t sure what else to do. Aimee hadn’t experienced anything in the house and made it evident that she was tired of Lindsey talking about it. She would either make fun of Lindsey for taking it this far … or she would be angry. Maybe a little of both.

Lindsey longed to talk to someone about it all, though. Maddie and Michelle were gone.  And Eli was in and out of the house the entire time, trying to get back on track with his real reason for being in Walterboro this summer. He spent a lot of time on walks or sitting by the water’s edge deep in prayer.

Eli and the priesthood. Oi, that opened up a whole other can of worms inside Lindsey’s head. She spent a lot of time that weekend sitting alone on the back porch thinking about all the “what ifs.”

She was relieved when Sunday morning finally arrived. She stumbled out of bed, stretched, and made her way to the stairs to hunt for something for breakfast. As she padded down the stairs, she heard Darby’s voice floating up from the kitchen.

“Honey, just know that she thought that you’d look for her. She didn’t want to be the one to come to you first because she didn’t want to put you in a tough spot. She wanted you to
choose
to know her, not be
forced
to.”

“That would make sense if I had known I was adopted. I never knew,” Aimee’s voice cracked, a sign that she was getting ready to cry. “Mom knew, she
knew
, and she waited until she was just minutes from death’s doorstep to tell me. She purposely kept me from knowing my birthmother, from finding out about my past. How can a mother do that to her child? What justification is there? How fucking selfish can a person be?” She took a deep but shaky breath and blew her nose. “If only Angela had contacted me, I could have confronted Mom, made her tell me why. Now they’re both gone and all I have are a letter, an adoption record, and a final memory of my … adoptive mother that is full of hurt and absolute anger.”

“Oh, honey. I am sure your momma loved you something fierce and was just afraid of losing you. I just want you to know that Angela loved you just as much, that she didn’t just abandon you. Trust me, she and I have a lot in common. It was the reason we became such great friends. No, no, I never placed a baby for adoption nor was I myself adopted. But my own momma, well, that’s a story for another time. For now, just know that I hope that you have luck getting the Bosleys to talk to you. If not, don’t let that get you down. That boy of theirs was always more interested in his political career than anything else.”

“You know, I just feel so lost, Darby. When Dad died… I managed to survive without too much grief because I still had mom and, of course, I had Lindsey. Mom’s death knocked my entire world off its axis. She was the constant in my existence. Her death blew this gaping hole in my soul. Then I read these damned letters and I feel this deep, guttural sorrow for a woman I never knew, a woman that my mother purposely kept from me. It was like someone poured acid on that already raw wound. Thank God I have Lindsey. I don’t think I could have survived that double blow if it hadn’t been for her.”

“Oh honey. I know it’s not easy. Adoptions never, ever are. Especially when they’re closed like this one was.”

Both women sat silent for a moment, the only sounds audible were the tick-tocking of the Grandfather clock in the foyer and the occasional sniff from her mother.

Eli came out of his room and flashed Lindsey a knowing grin as she stood on the bottom step eavesdropping. He wore navy blue pajama pants and a white tee shirt. Even with bedhead, he was breathtaking. “Snoop,” he joked as he passed her on the way to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Eli,” Darby greeted him. “I trust you’re being helpful while you’re here?”

“Oh, he’s a gem, Darby,” Aimee sniffed loudly. “We absolutely love having him here.”

Lindsey figured it was time to leave her perch. She faked a yawn and stretched as she rounded the corner.

“Morning, Mom. Morning, Darby. What a surprise to see you here this early.”

Darby smiled at her warmly and patted her hand when she sat down. She looked at Eli and then back at Lindsey as if she suspected something.

Lindsey ate bacon and eggs and chatted with them until it was time for her to shower and head to work. Business was slow at the Center. She sold several sets of hand-painted note cards and a sculpture to a group of tourists, but that was it so the director let her go early. When she passed Yalunka, the little Gullah lady who set up her table in front of the store several times each week, she was surprised to feel a hand on her wrist. The woman had never done anything but nod in acknowledgement in the past. Today, however, she handed Lindsey a rose made from an intricately twisted palm frond.

“Puhtek fuh yo ugin plateye,” she muttered then went back to her basket weaving.

Lindsey smiled, thanked her, and went to her car.
How odd
, she thought.

Aimee was in the shower when Lindsey got home. She left the rose on the credenza and began to look around the house for Eli, but he was nowhere to be found.
It’s Sunday, he must be at church
, she thought.  Lindsey made herself a sandwich and plopped down on the sofa.

“What are you going to do tonight,” Aimee asked as she wrapped her stethoscope around her neck and grabbed her car keys 20 minutes later. 

“Ah, not much. The Robbins’ are still out of town. I really need to go over there and feed the horses and muck out the stalls. I didn’t do that earlier this morning.”

“Well, I’m leaving for Columbia after work in the morning. Are you sure that you’ll be OK with everyone gone? It’s not too late for me to reschedule my stuff.”

“Mom, Eli is here and Darby is just across town. Besides, it’s not like I’m a little kid who needs a babysitter. Most kids my age are moving into dorms right now.”

“I know.” Aimee looked at her for a moment, wanting to say something more, but instead just gave her a hug. “I’ll call you when we’re heading out in the morning. The number to the hotel is on the fridge. If you need anything, Lindsey, call me. I don’t care if you think I’m in the middle of a lecture or … busy with other things, please call. You’re the most important thing to me, you know that, right?”

“I know, Mom,” Lindsey kissed Aimee on the cheek. 

She followed her mom to the front door. Aimee nabbed her stuffed duffle bag from the foot of the stairs and headed out the door for work. 

The day passed quickly. Before she knew it, it was dusk. She and Eli had opted to make quesadillas for dinner. They were eating on the front porch, a bowl of salsa sitting on the table between them, and watching the moss hanging from the live oaks sway in the breeze when the white C.A.P.I. van pulled up to the house leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.

Sadie greeted Lindsey with enthusiasm. “Lindsey! Boy do we have some interesting stuff to share with you this evening.”

Two of the female members of the team exited the van, each holding a black case. Lindsey wanted to say hello, but even though she recognized them, she couldn’t remember their names. She just waved instead. One of the women went to the back of the van and opened the tailgate. Lindsey started toward the front door, but Sadie stopped her. 

“I think it would be more prudent to speak out here.” She followed the psychic back to the van. The woman with the corn straw-colored hair was booting up a laptop on and attaching a mouse.

“How very ‘Ghost Hunters,’” Lindsey quipped.

“Wow. That’s quite a compliment! We really look up the team at T.A.P.S. and try very hard to be as objective as they are,” the woman with the darker hair said with a wide grin.

“I do love ‘Ghost Hunters,’ but I have to admit that I prefer ‘Destination Truth.’ That Josh Gates … whew!” the other woman growled and fanned her face playfully.

“Lindsey, you remember Raven, our Trinitarian Wiccan?” Sadie extended her hand toward the dark-haired woman. She then turned to the woman by the computer, “And Sara, our psychometrist?” Each woman nodded as they were introduced again. Lindsey smiled to each in return.

Raven seemed open and warm. Sara, though, was distant, her eyes never leaving Eli. Lindsey wondered if she was an ex-girlfriend.

“Anyway, we came in and set up equipment in each room of the house – video cameras and digital voice recorders. While those ran, we walked around the house, doing readings and trying to talk to the spirits within. There are four spirits here – none of them evil.”

“What? Wait, wait, wait. One of those, those… things has tried to kill me several times!” Lindsey yelled, not believing what she was hearing. Not evil? Bullshit.

“Lindsey, like in life, very, very few things are either black or white. Most things are in varying shades of gray. So it is here. Milton is angry, so very angry. But he’s not evil. It’s simply not that cut and dry.”

Lindsey began to protest but Sadie held up her hand. “Let me start from the beginning and explain. The spirits of Olemargaret and her twin boys are still here. She is mostly residual – going about her business oblivious to the house’s living occupants, like a DVD on continuous loop. Every once in a blue moon something catches her awareness, but it takes a lot of poking and prodding for that to happen. The boys, however, are playful and lonely. They like having people around that sense them and respond. Chris Long – the deacon that was with us the other night – actually had one of the boys rolling a ball back and forth to him. We got it on tape. Watch.”

Raven cued up a black and white clip of the rotund, balding man sitting in the middle of the living room with a soccer ball on the floor a couple of feet in front of him.

“I hear that there might be two little boys here. My name is Chris. You don’t have to be afraid of me. I have a son of my own. We love to play ball in the backyard. Do you like to play? Well, I brought my ball if you want to play with me.”

For a few seconds nothing happened, then the ball rolled toward Chris. Then it rolled back to its previous spot and stopped. This happed more times before Raven stopped the clip.

“Now,” Sadie continued, not waiting for Lindsey to ask any questions, “The spirit of Milton Walker is the one that we were worried about. After much prodding, we have come to the conclusion that he is indeed angry with you, Lindsey, and thus targeting you.”

“Me? What did I – ”

“Lindsey, you must understand by now that a great tragedy occurred here. He lost his wife and unborn child. His grief over such a profound loss trapped him here; it was like hell for him. He really felt that he was doomed to spend eternity trapped here in this house where Abigail perished just days before she should have given birth.

 “He hated it, it ate at him. His soul became one big ball of festering grief. He took his ire out on any living soul that dared to intrude into his personal hell. Ms. Grayson successfully banished him a long time ago but he refused to go on to the Summerlands, he wanted to find Abigail first. That cleansing pushed him from this place, but he remained on the outskirts, in the void between the Summerlands and the land of the living.

“And while he never found Abigail, at least he wasn’t
here
.  After the cleansing, the house was calmer, lighter. The only activity was just that of the rambunctious twins running amok. Then you moved in and allowed the use of a supernatural board that ripped open the safeguards put in place so many years ago.”

“How… do you know about that?” Lindsey asked. She had not mentioned the wudu board to anyone.

“Lindsey, how do you think?” Raven asked, looking at her the way her mother would when she was caught in a lie as a child.

“Well,” Lindsey tried to continue. “If he didn’t want to come back, why did he? Rip or not, why did he re-enter the house?”

“The void of the Shadowlands, the area in between, is like a vacuum. That rip literally sucked him back. He had no choice.  Milton found himself back in the place where everything ended so tragically for him. And he blames you. He is once again that tormented soul – reliving the day he lost his family. So you see, he isn’t demonic … just deranged with sorrow.  That insanity led him to lynch his most devoted servant, to hang her dead children with her. It’s not something he would have normally done. Until that day he had no so much as touched one of his servants with anger or malice.

“So, you can understand that the sooner we can get him to the Summerlands and reunited with his beloved, the better it will be for everyone.”

“You keep talking about the ‘Summerlands’ and ‘Shadowlands.’ What are they?” Lindsey asked.

“The Summerlands is the peaceful realm where most souls congregate after death. Some call it Heaven, others call it Nirvana. There are even those who say that the original Garden of Eden was in the Summerlands and that when humans were expelled, they were sent to the land of the living… that’s why no one has ever found the fabled garden here on Earth. Anyway, this realm is more commonly known within spiritual circles as the ‘Summerlands.’

“Not everyone goes there, mind you. Some souls, those dark with hate or evil, those who are tormented, and those that died tragically, go to the ‘Shadowlands.’ There are many areas of the Shadowlands – from the outskirts of a place here on earth all the way down to hell itself. It’s a cold, dark, lonely, depressing state. Then there are others that are chosen who go on to train as protectors of humans. Those trainees eventually become guardian angels and such. But the most common place for the departed is the Summerlands.”

“Wait. You just said that Hell was cold. And if the Summerlands and Heaven are the same place, how on earth could Milton go there? He killed himself. Suicide is a deal breaker. Do not pass go, do not collect $200.” Lindsey inquired.

Raven opened her mouth to speak, but Sara beat her to the punch. “The Shadowlands is a place that is devoid of the Creator’s presence. Sacred writings almost always describe God as a fiery presence. He revealed himself to Moses as a burning bush, as flaming torch to Abraham, and even as a ‘tongues of fire’ to the apostles. The angels closest to Him are called the ‘Seraphim’ which, in Hebrew, means ‘burning ones.’ His love is like an all-consuming fire.  To be in His presence is to be on fire with love and peace.”