Jack shrugged out of his sweater and
handed it to her, careful not to make contact with his hand. He knew Alex wouldn’t deliberately do
anything to him but he wasn’t so sure of others. They had used him, they could use Alex to get to him again. Or they may just target Alex. Maybe the opportunity came when someone
opened their mind. After all, Jason had
been healing him when …
“Alex, wait!” Jack said and she
jumped. “Are you sure you want to do
this? Are you sure it’s safe?”
She smiled gently. “It’s a risk, yes, but I have to take
it. Jack, it’s the only way we’re going
to find out anything. If I’m to help you,
I have to know exactly what happened.”
“Well, be careful,” he urged.
“Always.”
Alex held the sweater in both hands
and waited. She found that place inside
herself which was like a closed door and she opened it. She flinched, the world disappearing in a flash
of white light then coming back in monochrome.
She stood more or less in the same place. It was past sunset, the light fading quickly into shades of dark
gray but this world, seen thru the eye of the mind, was a world bathed in
moonlight. She heard the voice and she
looked toward it, her mind searching.
Yes, there, against the tree trunk just as Jack had said, was a
man. He wore faded brown corduroy pants
and a plaid shirt. There was a battered
hat on his head but she could see his face.
Old, lined with care as well as age.
His eyes were mild and not at all threatening. He spoke with affection, not intimidation. He seemed genuinely concerned.
She not only saw him and heard him,
Alex sensed his emotions as well.
Beneath all the surface layers was a deep undercurrent of pain. Anguish.
And it was old. It rolled and
heaved like a thick, oily stream. Yet
here, in this one spot in the whole valley, he could find a little peace, a
little happiness and respite from the hurt.
He seemed to look right at her and he
nodded.
Then the light of a sunny morning
flooded back, painting the world with color and movement. Alex staggered slightly and Jack caught her
upper arm.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his heart in
his eyes.
“I’m fine,” she nodded.
“Nothing new?” Jack wondered uneasily.
“Only what I saw.”
“And .. what was that?”
“There you are!” Noah called as he
entered the clearing. “I found your
note, obviously, because I’m here.
Looking for clues?”
“Yeah. And finding none,” Jack responded with a rather manic grin. “But that’s about par for this particular course,
isn’t it?”
“Alex? You okay?” Noah frowned.
“Yeah.” She straightened. “I saw
him.”
The two men blinked. “The mystery man?” Noah ventured.
“Yeah,” Alex answered.
“He was here?”
“Not exactly,” Jack replied.
“Okay. Back to the cabin. Describe
him to me an’ I’ll draw him. We can
show the sketch around town, see if anyone recognizes this guy an’ can put a
name to him.”
He set off up the trail and Jack went
to follow then glanced back over his shoulder.
“Alex? You coming?”
“He’s in so much pain,” she said
softly.
Jack retraced his steps. “Then we’ll help him. First .. we have to find out who he is. C’mon.”
He put his arm around her shoulders
and supported her as they walked back to the cabin. Noah was waiting on the verandah, his expression one of eagerness
to get to the bottom of the mystery.
Jack took the key, unlocked the doors
into the lounge and let Noah enter first.
He got Alex settled on the sofa then went into the kitchen to get
coffee. He felt like something stronger
was called for but it was still too early in the day for alcohol.
Noah got out a sketch pad and a pencil
and poised himself, ready to begin.
“Just his face, if you can,” he
said. “What are we seeing? Long?
Oval? Round?” He waited.
“Square?”
“Hey, give Alex a break, okay?” Jack
insisted. “When you channel for your
artists, you’re not aware of what you’re doing. You wake up an’ you’re hungry, thirsty, maybe a little tired. When you can see things like Alex an’ I can,
it’s different. It rips you inside
out. For a while, you’re not sure where
you are, what day of the week it is, your own name even. Let her get her balance again, Noah. Let her sift thru what she saw till it makes
sense.”
Noah flushed. “I’m sorry.
You’re right. Alex, take your time.”
“Thanks,” she whispered and closed her
eyes, her head laying back.
“I know you wanna catch this guy,”
Jack went on in a quiet voice. “I’d like to have a few words with him as
well, but .. you can’t rush these things.
I’ll tell you why – you make mistakes.
You see something and .. you react to it. You jump to conclusions.
You rush off, start accusing people or warning them .. and then
something even worse happens. It all
blows up in your face. But, if you take
the time to think about what you’ve seen, to investigate it, then you get it
right. Trust me, Noah, I know what I’m
talking about from bitter experience.”
Noah put the pad down on the low
table. “I do trust you, Jack, on this
anyway. My gift is different to
yours. But I never doubt a fellow
psychic, not when he speaks from experience.”
Alex lifted her head again. “It isn’t just seeing things either. Sometimes, like today, you make a connection
and feel the emotions.” She sighed and
shook her head.
“What did you feel?” Noah asked
softly.
“Pain. Sorrow. Old anguish. It’s very deep inside but almost constant.”
“That doesn’t sound like a rapist to
me,” Jack commented. “Guilt, sure, I
could understand guilt, but not sorrow.
Not how Alex means it.”
She nodded for Noah to pick up the pad
again. “He had a rectangular face. Lined with age and he was careworn. There was a thin stubble on his chin. His eyes were .. blue. Dark blue.
And there were laughter lines around them. Crows’ feet. He was quite
tanned. Slightly fleshy around the
jaw. His nose was broad, a bit
squashed. His mouth was .. like yours
but a bit more plump. His hair … I didn’t really see that because he was
wearing a hat. An old, battered beanie
hat.”
Noah’s pencil had been racing over the
paper but now it started to slow.
Jack looked at the sketch from behind
Noah’s shoulder. “I’ve not seen anyone
like that in town,” he remarked.
“Neither have I,” Alex confirmed. “But .. he needs this place. He needs to find peace and acceptance.”
“Alex .. what was he wearing?” Noah
asked.
“A plaid shirt and faded brown cord
pants. A pair of scuffed boots.”
Noah nodded slowly. “We won’t find this guy.”
“How can you be so sure?” Jack
frowned. “What .. he just rolled into
town, met me, said what he had to say, did what he had to do, an’ rolled out
again?”
“He can’t be a newcomer to the
valley,” Alex realized. “He said this
was his favorite time of year. That
means he’s been here before, in other seasons and other years.”
Noah held out the sketch. “Is this him?”
Alex studied it. “Yes,” she nodded. “That’s uncanny. My
description wasn’t that accurate.”
“I know him,” Noah said. “I drew it from memory. I was friends with this guy for many years.”
“You drove him out,” Jack said. “He did something and you made him leave.”
“No, we don’t do that here.” Noah looked at the picture. “No, Jack, we buried this guy. This is Bartholomew.”
*****
A long moment of silence fell over the
lounge. Noah gazed at the portrait he’d
drawn, his eyes filled with memories of past years. Alex was surprised and yet she was already trying to figure out
the next stage, the motivations, what compelled him to stay, what might get him
to move on. Jack was simply not saying
anything, but it couldn’t last.
“Okay, I think, as the victim here, or
one of them, that I deserve some kind of explanation. Who is Bartholomew and
why was he buried?”
“He was dead,” Noah replied
bluntly. “You thought we buried him alive?
He got to the end of his life an’ he died so we buried him.”
Jack hesitated. “By the pond ..?” he ventured.
“In the cemetery, Jack. We’re not that uncivilized in Gretna,” Noah
responded.
“I don’t know that! I haven’t seen all the tourist traps
yet!” Jack paced away then came
back. “So .. what I saw was a ghost.”
“Seems so,” Noah nodded.
“Jack, sit down,” Alex invited.
Jack sat next to her, keeping the
barrier of the table between him and Noah.
“Why’s he haunting me? What have
I done to deserve this special attention?
Who was Bartholomew? Was he a founder?”
“Strictly speaking, no,” Noah
answered. “But he turned up in the
valley within a few weeks of us breaking the ground here so we always thought
of him as one of the first. He might
not have been here on the day Dominic and I walked along what is now Main
Street, but he was here when the town began.
Hell, we were still digging the foundations for the first building when
he walked up and asked if he could help.
He was here as Gretna grew. We
always said he was a founder. Gretna back
then .. was still just an idea. A
dream. He helped make it real.”
Noah eased back. “But he was ill. On the edge of a total breakdown. He’d walked into the wilderness to die. And, instead, he found us.
Dominic and I, we worked with him.
It look a long time before he’d even tell us what was wrong, what had
driven him to such total despair.
Bartholomew believed he was cursed or going crazy.”
“Why?” Jack frowned.
“He was the memory expert. He became our secret weapon. And he taught Nic how to do it too, but Nic
never had the finesse, the precision which Bartholomew had.” He looked at the drawing again. “He was a real gentleman. Dignified, quiet. Never one for crowds or putting himself forward. A little distant but a real nice guy. Always friendly when you met him.”
“Yes, he was,” Jack said and Alex
nodded. “But why is he haunting me?”
“That I don’t know,” Noah
replied. “None of us have seen him since the day we paid our final respects an’
closed the casket. I’m as stunned as
you are that Bartholomew’s ghost has shown up.
And I’m even more stunned that
he can still do the memory thing.” Noah
shook his head. “I mean, we have to
stop it .. but how? The guy’s dead an’ buried under six feet of
earth. We can’t exactly arrange an
appointment to meet with him so we can ask him politely if he wouldn’t mind
putting a stop to it.”
Alex leaned forward. “So what do
we do? We can’t ignore this, Noah.”
“I know but I can’t answer you,
Alex. Not right now. I think I should go talk this over with
Jason an’ Nic. You two .. take a
break. This is your vacation, after
all, so .. go do vacation stuff. I’ll
catch up with you tomorrow.” He
rose. “Thank you, both of you, for
finally identifying our mystery man.
It’s created another mystery but, I guess, such is life. An’ death.”
Alex went with him to the door. “You’ll be okay?”
“Oh, sure,” Noah said with a brave
smile. “I thought my friend was finally
at peace. Comes as a shock when you
learn that you’re wrong. I’ll be in
contact.”
She watched him set off then closed
the door again. When Alex got back to
the lounge, Jack had his head in his hands and he was groaning softly.
“Are you all right?” she asked, a
little alarmed.
Jack reared up and regarded her. “Is it me, Alex? Do I have some kinda certain smell? Is there a light flashing over my head? It always happens to me! Why?
I came here for a vacation. A
nice, peaceful few days doing things I’ve never tried before. I even thought, y’know, it’d be nice to actually
live here. And … It’s like fleas,”
he declared suddenly. “Some dogs, no
matter what they do, always pick up fleas.
An’ that’s me. No matter where I
go or what I do, I get ghosts. And it
isn’t just that, although that’s bad
enough. I get ghosts who want
something. They want my help or they
wanna hurt me or they wanna see me dead.
What am I doing wrong, huh? Am I
paying for my earlier misdemeanors? Did
I seriously screw someone over?”
He groaned again and looked away, his
eyes closing tightly. “I tell you, Alex,
when my time comes, I am going to get my own back. I’m gonna make a list of all the people I’m gonna haunt. I think I’m due a little something as
compensation. Because this is
persecution, plain an’ simple.”
Alex sat down next to him. “You feel better now all that’s out in the
open?”
“Yes.
Much. Still doesn’t resolve
anything.”
“Not yet,” she commented, stretching
for her barely warm coffee. “We’ve made
progress, Jack – ”
“You have,” he corrected.
“It was your sweater. You saw him and spoke with him. If you hadn’t – ”
“None of this would’ve happened,” Jack cut in with a bright smile.
She took his hand. “Jack, any investigation has stages. It starts, it develops, then it
concludes. We’re in the development
stage. This isn’t the end. Now we know who, we have to find out
why. Bartholomew talked with you for a
reason. We have to find that out. When we do, maybe we can resolve it. Maybe it’ll be for others to resolve.” Alex squeezed Jack’s hand. “C’mon, it isn’t as bad as all that. The reason you pick up ghosts like dogs get
fleas is because you’re susceptible.
You’re tuned in. And, in a way,
it is like a light flashing over your
head. They know you can help them.”
“Well, thank you for those kind and
inspiring words,” he replied. “Now I
have a message to give to the universe.
Leave me alone! This is my
vacation. I’d like a break from weird,
just for a week, okay?” He sniffed and
shook his head. “It won’t happen but,
if I don’t try getting the message out, I can’t be surprised when it doesn’t
stop.” Jack looked round. “So .. what’re we gonna do today? Learn how to throw pots?”
“We’re going to visit some of the
tourist traps,” Alex said. “We’re going
to the cemetery.”
*****
Noah shut the door of the diner and
leaned against it, breathing heavily.
Dominic looked across at him and frowned.
“You okay?”
“No.
No, I can’t say that I am.”
“You want me to call Jason?”
“Yeah,” Noah nodded. “Not cos I’m sick, cos I’m not. But I do need to speak with him, an’ with
you.”
“Okay. Sit down before you collapse.
You look like you’ve just run a marathon.”
“I was in a hurry,” Noah said, limping
to a booth and sliding onto a bench.
“This couldn’t wait.”
“I’ll call Jason,” Dominic responded
and went thru to the back.
Noah put his sketch pad on the table
and gazed at the portrait.
Why ..? Why come back? Why show
yourself to a stranger? You had friends
here, friends who mourned your passing, friends who missed you. You could’ve come to us. Whatever the reason, we
would have helped.
Dominic returned. “He’s on his way. What’s so important that you half crippled yourself by
running? You’re no spring chicken,
Noah.”
“Thanks for reminding me.” Noah wondered whether to wait for Jason or
to start without him. “You know I’ve
been helping Alex an’ Jack with their mystery.”
“Yeah. I heard that, er, we got a rapist in town. That is not good.”
“Well, no, but we haven’t got a
rapist. Alex did some investigating by
herself. You know she has the sight.”
“Uh huh,” Dominic nodded.
“She .. saw the guy who Jack spoke
with the other evening.”
“Who is he?”
“It’s more .. what is he, Nic. We got ghosts in Gretna.”
Dominic didn’t react. “Sure, I know that. Most of ’em swing by your cabin to get you
to paint for ’em.”
Noah shook his head. “Not those kind. We never see them. It’s
more a case of .. experiencing them.
This is different.” He turned
the sketch pad around. “This is who
Jack spoke with.”
Dominic looked down. “That’s … ”
He leaned forward, frowning, then raised his eyes. “It’s Bartholomew.”
“It is. An’ he’s dead. We got
ghosts in Gretna. Or one, at least.”
“And he did the memory thing?”
“I don’t think it was Jason who did it! Although, let’s be fair here, Bartholomew
could’ve used Jason.”
“Used me for what?” Jason asked as he
closed the door. “Are you all right,
Noah?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Sit down, Jason,” Dominic
invited. “We got ourselves a
situation.”
“Another one?” Jason smiled wryly as he slid in beside
Dominic. “I came here to help my fellow
psychics an’ not be regarded as a fraud or a con man. I wanted a peaceful life, and now it’s one situation after
another. Why is that, do you think? Is it so
isolated here that .. we generate situations to keep us grounded and not go
crazy? What’s happened this time?”
“We got a ghost,” Noah replied. “An’ not the regular ghosts, either. Not Mozart or Dickens, or any of the old
masters. To be honest, I don’t think
their ghosts, as such, haunt Gretna. I
think something of their creative essence comes back purely to continue the act
of creation which drove them in life.
But what we have on this occasion is a real, bone fide ghost.”
“Jack’s mystery man,” Jason deduced.
“Yeah,” Dominic nodded. “He’s got that gift, Jason. Maybe none of us have. Could be this guy has been here a long time
an’ we just never knew till Jack arrived.”
“But Jack said he never saw him.”
“Never saw his face,” Noah
corrected. “He saw someone, he heard a
guy’s voice. An’, now, Alex has seen
him too. Not in the same way but she
has the sight. She an’ Jack went to the
pond this morning an’ did some kind of experiment, I guess. But she saw more than Jack. She saw him
enough to be able to describe this guy.”
“So what makes you think he’s a
ghost?” Jason frowned.
Dominic held out the sketch pad. “Remember him?”
Jason looked at it and stared.
“The newcomers in town aren’t liars,”
Noah added. “This business with Jack’s
memory should have given us a big clue.
Innogen’s checked Jack out an’ she says he has some stuff copied across
from her memory … It’s Bartholomew.”
“He told Jack he was one of the first,
a founder. An’ Bartholomew was,”
Dominic pointed out.
“What do we do?” Jason asked.
“Beats the hell outta me,” Noah
answered. “I have no experience with
real life ghosts.”
“I don’t think any of us do,” Dominic
agreed.
“Not residents,” Jason remarked. “Visitors .. that’s another matter. We have Alex and Jack. I think what we have to do is ask for their
help.”
“Will they give it?” Dominic
wondered. “I mean .. Jack is a
victim. I wouldn’t blame him if he
chooses to leave as soon as he can.”
“We can only ask,” Jason commented.
“I think they will help,” Noah
declared. “Alex said Bartholomew’s in a
lotta pain. She’ll help because she
can’t bear that. An’ Jack will help
because he’s Jack an’ he wants answers.”
“Good. So do we,” Jason agreed briskly.
“Okay, let’s work out what we need to know and then, tomorrow, we’ll go
visit them and .. ask.”
*****
“Y’know something,” Jack remarked as
they walked back into town. “I think
I’ve dropped a few pounds. I’m starting
to feel really fit. It’s all this
walking.”
“I forgot I left the rental car by the
diner yesterday,” Alex apologized. “But
walking’s good for you. We don’t do
enough of it.”
“I
don’t, that’s for sure. You’re
different. You live in that great,
rambling house an’ I bet Derek doesn’t give you bicycles to get from one end to
the other.”
Alex smiled. “That’s true, he doesn’t.
I guess walking those miles of passageways and stairs does keep me fit.”
“So what are we gonna do about
Bartholomew?” he asked. “You said he
hurts. We can’t ignore that. We can’t just up an’ go home knowing that
about the guy. We have to do
something.”
“Well .. we have to discover why he’s
still hurting. Noah said earlier that,
when Bartholomew arrived here, he was close to a total breakdown. He was ill
because he couldn’t understand what was wrong with him. And he told you that Gretna has the power to
heal, given time. Maybe .. he just
needs more time. He could believe that
he died too soon.”
Jack nodded slowly. “That sounds reasonable to me.”
She gestured at a road which led away
from Main Street. “It’s down here, I
think.”
“You think. You don’t know?”
“Derek an’ Nick visited the cemetery
last time. And Peri did. Rachel and I went to other places. I’m sure Nick said it was on this side of
town.”
“What else happened the last time you
were here?” Jack asked, overcome with curiosity.
“Peri got hit by a plank of wood. That was Marcus. Later, Marcus threatened Nick with Nick’s own gun.”
“This is the Marcus who left.”
“That’s right,” Alex nodded.
“I can see why he’d want to do
that. Leave, I mean. Of all the people in the world to take on,
Nick an’ Peri should come way down
the list.”
“It’s one reason why Nick hasn’t come
back. I think he’d seriously hurt
Marcus. But now that Marcus has gone,
it shouldn’t be a problem. Derek was
treated reasonably well all the time he was just here on vacation but, as soon
as he began to help me, we both got the cold shoulder. No one would speak with us. It was a very hostile atmosphere. We decided to get out while we could. Eventually, we were rescued and we spent the
remainder of our time in this tumbledown cabin out in the woods. We didn’t know it but .. we’d been here
before.”
“They did the memory thing on you?”
Alex nodded again. “Little things started to seem
familiar. Little words and
phrases. The way someone tilted their
head. It was like déjà vu. And then we met with Innogen. And she knew us.”
“And then it all came out.”
“Yeah. There was a huge argument.
Not everyone in town was aware of what was going on.” Alex shrugged. “In a way, I can understand why Bartholomew was necessary. Gretna is such a unique place that .. it
should be protected from the outside world.
These people came here to get away from persecution. It wasn’t as extreme as what the Jews
suffered in Europe in the Thirties and Forties nor what the blacks went thru in
the United States. No one ever got
lynched and murdered for being psychic.
They suffered a much more .. mild type of persecution yet it was just as
terrible in its way. People who point
fingers and stare, who yell insults, just because someone can do things with
their minds that others can’t. It’s
passed on, from generation to generation.
Parents take their children past a certain house, pause, point it out,
and say ‘that’s where the weird lady lives’.
Or it could just be a case of .. not being believed. You know what that’s like, Jack. People look at you and you can see it in
their eyes.”
“We’re all con men,” he said. “We’re not right in the head so we can’t be
trusted.”
“Eventually, it drives people away and
forces them into communities. I went to
work for the Luna Foundation and, there, I found acceptance. You developed your show in Vegas, and people
accept you. They may not completely
believe but it’s entertainment so it’s okay.
Others .. come here to get away from the looks and whispered
comments. If Gretna’s existence was
widely known, people would drive here to stare and whisper. This would become
.. more a zoo than a prison. So
Bartholomew’s gift was, in a way, a necessary evil.”
“But people still come here. I mean, outsiders. Visitors. Non-psychics.”
“Yes, because Gretna has to live. People see this town as an art center.”
“A community of artists an’
sculptors,” he recalled.
“Exactly. They come here to shop.
Those people are harmless.
Bartholomew, and later Dominic, would never target them. It was the people like me and Derek, the
ones who came here asking the questions they dreaded hearing, who were the
targets. Dominic and the others didn’t
want Gretna to become a zoo. They
believed we would spread the word.”
They were strolling along a lane
shaded by trees. The sun shone
warmly. Birds sang in the leaves
overhead. Apart from that, there was
silence. The lane curved around and
opened up into a wide area. Ahead was a
black painted, cast iron fence. They
followed this round until it became a set of gates. In the arch above, the word ‘cemetery’ was formed in metal.
“This is a nice spot to spend
eternity,” Jack commented, pushing one gate open. “It seems right to bury them
here. They lived in the valley, they
should stay in the valley.” He looked
around. “There aren’t many markers.”
“Gretna’s only been here a few
decades,” Alex explained. “And, as
Jason told us, the people are blessed with extraordinary health.”
“Only one name on each marker,” Jack
remarked, studying them.
“That’s right. I’m sure that, when people move here, they
leave behind everything from their past, and that includes the name they were
born with. Think about it. All the people you’ve met since you arrived
have only had one name. Noah, Jason,
Dominic. Bartholomew.”
“An’ here he is,” Jack pointed,
nodding. “Hello again. Remember me? I’m the guy you spoke with the other night. I have to congratulate you – you have really
made my vacation more interesting than it might have been, an’ I go to some
very .. interesting places.”
“You think he can hear you?” Alex
asked, coming to his side.
“I don’t know, Alex,” he replied,
shoving his hands in his pockets. “But
what I do know is that one of the
reasons there are ghosts is because they never said something when they had the
chance. I’m not gonna come back and
haunt people cos I stayed quiet.”
She smiled. “I think that’s pretty much guaranteed.”
Jack smiled too. “Yeah, I do have that rep, don’t I? But .. you’re wrong. I talk a lot, I admit, but I have trouble
saying things. Important things. I’ve learned that, coming here. Well, I always knew it but I’d never admit it to myself. Well, I’ve decided that has to stop. If I have something to say, I’m gonna say it.”
“That’s good.”
He drew in a deep breath. “Jeffrey Starr did very bad things. He did them for money an’ because it made
him feel big. Needed. Inside, he knew it was wrong. I am Jeffrey Starr. I’m also Jack. An’ I think Jack is a better person for knowing Jeffrey, an’ for
knowing you. Your friendship, Alex, has
been an inspiration to me. We met the
first time under the worst circumstances an’ yet I wouldn’t change that. Because of you, I discovered my gift and,
while I have cursed it at times, I’d rather have it an’ be me than not have it
an’ still be Jeffrey. I could’ve chosen
a better place to say this, it’s true, but .. I wanted to say it now.”
“I don’t think you could’ve chosen a
better place, Jack,” Alex said, hugging him.
“Thank you.”
He nodded as he patted her back then
stepped away. “So .. here’s
Bartholomew. What do we do next?”
“I don’t know,” she replied.
Jack paused, gazing down at the
grave. “Well, we know that the guy
thought he was going crazy when he first turned up. He was here a long time.
Did he think he was going crazy all those years?”
“I don’t believe so,” Alex said. “Noah and Dominic worked with him. I suppose they gave him counseling, showed
him by example that he wasn’t the only .. different person in Gretna. That must have given him peace of mind.” She frowned.
“So why is he so full of anguish still?
Why does he hurt so much?”
Jack straightened. “There’s only one way to know for
sure.” Alex looked at him. “We have to ask him. We have to make contact.” He shrugged. “I’ll go to the pond at sunset.
He talked to me before. Maybe
he’ll talk to me again.”
*****
Jason studied his list. “Is that everything?”
“It’s a damn short list,” Dominic
remarked. “Why have you come back? What do you want from us? What more do you need?”
“What else do we need to know?” Jason
inquired. “This seems to cover
everything.”
Noah shook his head. “It sounds like a list of demands. I have no experience of ghosts but I have
seen movies. Surely .. the purpose of
the exercise is to help Bartholomew go on, not demand answers as to why he’s
hanging around. Can’t we tell him that
we’ve missed him?”
“Isn’t that an invitation to hang
around a while longer?” Dominic queried.
“Put yourself in his place. Not literally,” Noah added. “However long you’ve been haunting the pond,
and, possibly, the entire town, now that we have someone here who can act as a
go-between, wouldn’t you like to hear that you’ve been missed? I know I would. I’d much prefer to hear that than a list of demands why I hadn’t
gone like I was supposed to do.” He
glared at them. “Bartholomew was my
friend. I do miss him. I want him to know that.”
“All right,” Jason agreed. “I miss him too.”
“So do I,” Dominic added. “But .. I can’t get around the fact that he’s
dead. When people die, they go on to ..
heaven. Somewhere else, at least. I won’t say Gretna is paradise but heaven
is, an’ there’s no reason I can see to stick around here, not when I could go
somewhere even better.”
“Which leads us in a circle back to
these questions,” Jason pointed out.
“We’re no good at this. We need an expert’s opinion. The Luna Foundation deal with stuff like
this all the time,” Noah declared.
“So .. was Jack an accidental witness
to something which happens a lot but none of us can see, or did Bartholomew
show himself to Jack because Jack was here an’ could do something?”
After a moment, Dominic shrugged. “Add it to the list,” he suggested.
*****
Noah left the diner feeling
dissatisfied. He had hoped for more
from Dominic and Jason, and he hadn’t received it. Dominic had known Bartholomew as long as Noah had. Jason hadn’t known him as long but he was a
doctor, a healer, and they were supposed to have compassion. Noah had the impression that Jason’s
compassion ended with a patient’s death.
He didn’t want to go home just yet
because he knew he’d only sit and brood, his dissatisfaction laying in his
stomach like a cold stone.
Well .. if they won’t say it on behalf
of the town, I’ll say it. An’ I don’t see any reason to wait either.
Noah headed off toward the
cemetery. He felt slightly better, now
he’d chosen to do something. He
hurried, ignoring the fact he was in his seventies and really should have been
taking life a little slower.
Bartholomew’s return had sent a jolt thru him, like a charge from a
battery. Noah didn’t feel his age and
he was determined to make the most of this while he could.
As he neared the cemetery, he heard
voices and slowed down, irritated that his big speech might be overheard, but
then he recognized them and picked up his pace again.
“This isn’t doing vacation stuff,” he
accused.
“We were just about to leave,” Alex
responded, then, remembering the last time she’d been here, added, “We weren’t
prying – ”
“I know. You’re trying to help. I
appreciate that.”
“Did you speak with Jason and
Dominic?” she inquired.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t as productive as
I’d hoped. Thing is, Alex, we have a
town full of psychics but not one of ’em can mediate with the other side. Jack is the first. If Bartholomew’s here for a reason, we’re gonna need your help,
Jack, to talk with him. Maybe your help
as well, Alex. Channeling is
different. There’s no
communication. Kinda rules me out.”
“We’ve more or less reached the same
conclusion,” Jack said. “That is why
we’re here, in the cemetery.” He
shrugged. “I’m going to the pond
tonight. Alex will come with me.”
“I’d like to be there too,” Noah
remarked.
Alex hesitated. “That may not be such a good idea, Noah.”
“Bartholomew was my friend – ”
“We know but .. sometimes it helps to
be impartial. We don’t live here. We’re neutral. If Bartholomew has a grievance, you could become defensive. Let us make the initial contact and then ..
well, we’ll take it from there.”
“We have to find out why he’s here,
why he hurts. That may be enough to ..
point him in the right direction,” Jack added.
“If it isn’t, at least we’ll know more and we can make a report to you
an’ the others. Then you can decide how
you want us to play it on your behalf.”
Noah slowly nodded. “Okay.
Look, do something for me. Tell
him I miss him. I miss his company, our
conversations. Will you do that? To be honest, I don’t care why he hasn’t
gone on. I do care that he’s in pain
but I’d be happy to have him stick around for a while longer. You can tell him that too.”
Alex smiled. “We will, I promise.”
“Jason’s gonna call round to see you
tomorrow with a list of demands.
Bartholomew doesn’t need that.
What he needs is a gentle touch .. an’ you’ve got that, Alex.” He nodded.
“Call me. It doesn’t matter how
late it is. Call me, okay?”
“Okay.”
Noah glanced at the grave. “He was a real character. Some of the heart died in this town when we
lost him.” He glanced at them. “Later.”
“Count on it,” Jack promised.
*****
The warmth of the afternoon hadn’t
penetrated thru the woods. It was cool
in the deep shade and it was becoming cooler as the sun edged behind the rim of
the valley. The last trill of birdsong
faded into the breathless hush of twilight.
The water in the pond glowed blue with reflected sky, crossed with
stripes of gold and banded with flares of orange and crimson. Beneath the trees, the shadows clustered
thick and black.
Alex stood in those shadows. She was off the path, to Jack’s left. She didn’t want to appear to be a
threat. She stilled her thoughts,
slowed her breathing, waited with infinite patience.
Jack stood in the same spot as before,
his hands in his pockets, gazing at the water.
The image of the sky rippled constantly as the stream ran thru the
center. Then, without any warning, the
hairs on the back of his neck began to rise.
He moistened his lips.
“Hi again,” he said. “I’m glad you turned up . You’ve gotten your friends in town just a
little freaked out.” Jack turned and
peered toward the tree trunk. “Are you
there? Will you talk with us?”
“I am here and I will talk with you,
with everyone. I can do that now.”
Jack slowly turned in a half
circle. Alex stepped forward. Her eyes were blank, her face a mask. Bartholomew had spoken, but it had been
Alex’s voice.
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