The Spirit Who Loved Me: Spirit Whispers Book One Read online

  “Have a good evening, ladies. Patty and I will see you in the morning.” At the funeral. Yep. He cleared his throat. “We’ll see how things are,” he added, looking my mom in the eye. Yeah, yeah, just say it, I mused, we’ll see if nut case is still hearing and seeing things, and take it from there folks. I wasn’t stupid, but I knew how to play the game. Oh, my lips would be so sealed.

  We parted ways, my mom and I went home to our old trailer, but it was home sweet home.

  By this time it was going on midnight. I sighed, pulling on a dull olive green velour sweat suit that by this time had lost most of its plush velourness. I slid into bed, cuddling up in my favorite quilt Granny had made for me years ago when I could still call myself little. It had faded over time, but it was still quite lovely and oh, so warm. I lay waiting for sleep to find me, and cloak me in its sweet blackness, but I could not seem to relax enough, despite the fact that I was thoroughly exhausted. I knew what I was waiting for as I watched the clock. Its tick, tick, ticking was really getting on my nerves. I sure wanted a new alarm clock, damn it.

  An hour past, and then almost two. I lay in my bed too tired to go out and watch TV, too tired to read, too tired to do anything but lay there in a near comatose state of exhaustion and fear. At 1:30 AM, I heard Bobby staggering in through the front door. It didn’t sound like he even made an effort to be quiet. But I was sure my mom was deeply asleep by now, so I didn’t get too mad at him.

  Tick, tick, tick, continued my clock, and I resisted the urge to stomp it to death. I sighed, figuring it wouldn’t help my case of trying to maintain the impression of sanity to my mother and the Sherriff.

  1:55 AM. I shivered and shook uncontrollably. I felt bile rising up in the back of my throat. I felt my hold on sanity slipping, slipping ever so slightly away with each continued ticking of the clock. I pondered the possibility that I was indeed mad, the thought passing as quickly as it came, my tired brain unable to focus on anything more than a nanosecond. When I didn’t think I could stand it anymore, the clock numbers flipped from 1:59 to 2:00 AM on the dot. Show time.

  But nothing happened. I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Dr. Roberts had failed to appear. He had been paying me nightly visits for months, ever since he’d passed. I wondered what was up with that, not that I was complaining. Come to think of it, I realized, he hadn’t bothered me the night before either. Least I didn’t think so. I had cried myself to sleep, missing Granny so hard, I’d slept clear through the night. Guess, I wouldn’t have known one way or the other if he’d shown up.

  I began to relax, and within minutes, I was passing into the oblivion of sleep. I felt a delicious warmth spread through my body, bringing comfort and feelings of love. And as I finally descended deep within the Rabbit Hole, I could swear someone was gently patting my leg.

  Chapter 4

  First thing the next morning, I got dressed straight away. We’d have to be over to Antioch Baptist Church early. I was wearing a plain black dress, but it was cut rather nice and actually made me look like I had some curves. I wondered if Tara would embarrass me again. I knew it had probably been hers judging by the Arden B label. Her mom usually gave me some of Tara’s clothes when she’d tired of them, which was often. But, who knew, maybe she wouldn’t even come. The funeral service was supposed to only be close family and friends, and it was Monday, which meant school.

  I looked at myself in the mirror. Never comfortable with my reflection, I found it difficult to meet the gaze of my own eyes. I took in my tan complexion, fading but still too dark now that it was fall. I sighed at my bland brown eyes and hair, which lay limply around my face. Never knowing quite what to do with it, I simply pulled my hair back in a clip. After one final awkward glance, I went out to the kitchen.

  Biscuits were baking, filling the trailer with their delicious aroma. Mom hadn’t cleaned up yet, the mixing bowls still needed rinsing and washing, and there was a dusting of flour still covering the table where my mom had rolled out the dough so they wouldn’t stick. She must have needed to go ahead and dress, so I figured I’d be a good daughter for once and help her out.

  I started on the bowls first-- rinsing, washing, rinsing, and drying. I heard the oven timer go off. I jumped to shut it off in case Bobby was still sleeping. I fumbled around in a drawer for some oven mitts then opened the oven door.

  “Yes,” I whispered, looking at the beautiful golden biscuits covered in thick slices of old fashioned cheddar cheese, my favorite. Then I turned in a flurry from the oven, billowing out a dish towel so I could set the hot sheet down on the counter.

  I stopped, freezing in my steps. In the dusting of flour on the table was a large heart and underneath it was I <3 u.

  “Mom?” I called weakly. No answer. The baking sheet started to burn my hand through the sorry excuse for an oven mitt, so I had to put it down. I walked over to the table, staring. I didn’t know what to think. Huh.

  My mom strode the few steps down the narrow hall from her bedroom to the kitchen. “Did you get the biscuits out for me?” She asked. I nodded bleakly yes, but she was too concerned with other things, I guess, not noticing my state. “Thanks, Krystal. Took me a longer to get dressed than I thought.” She peered around my shoulder. “Oh, Krystal. Did you do that for me? You’re so sweet.”

  I looked at her and nodded again. “Um, yeah,” came out half question, half answer. I was going to ask her if she’d done it, now what in the hell could I say? She went into the kitchen, talking about how lucky she was to have me as a daughter. I guess she was just happy I washed the dishes. She hates to wash dishes. Always has.

  I stood staring at the heart and message underneath it. I traced it with my finger. “Is Bobby up yet?” My last hope pinned on him. Maybe that SOB was actually being sweet to my mom for once.

  “No.”

  “Damn.” I whispered.

  “What was that, Krystal? I couldn’t quite hear ya.”

  “Oh, nothing. Is he even coming?”

  “I think so. Least he was.”

  “Better get his sorry ass up then.”

  “That’s no way to talk about your step-father.”

  “Sorry, Mom,” I said even though we both knew what I’d said was true. “Better get him up though. We gotta go soon, don’t we?

  We followed a glossy black hearse from Granny’s place to the church. During the ride, I struggled to wrap my mind around the events of the past couple of days. So for starters, the old doc was MIA the last couple of nights, ever since Granny had passed. So okay, maybe that was her doing? I’d always gone with the theory that I had an overactive imagination at night paired with mega horrible nightmares. Dr. Roberts had been my Civics teacher freshman year, and it’d been a shock to everyone when he’d died so unexpectedly. So maybe somehow, she’d been able to keep those bad dreams at bay?

  Then there was the whole crazy night at Granny’s after the wake. It just didn’t add up in my mind. I knew I heard someone whispering in my ear. And I knew I didn’t imagine what I saw in the window after I’d run off. I could almost, almost believe, almost accept that maybe, just maybe, Granny would try to say goodbye again after going to Heaven. But it had been a man’s throaty, gruff whisper. I could still hear exactly how it’d sounded in my mind, and I saw a man’s silhouette. So no, not Granny. And if it had not been her, then I started to doubt if she would be able to make my bad dreams go away.

  And what about the heart that was drawn in the flour, and the “I love you” underneath? Who had done that? I was making myself dizzy as I tried to make sense of it all. Mom had been getting dressed, Bobby had been passed out, and I been taking out the biscuits. So who? If my mom hadn’t also seen it herself, I would have seriously been doubting my sanity.

  The funeral itself passed in a blur as I found myself obsessing over my questions. I forced myself to say and do what was expected of me in all the right places. I shook hands. I thanked people for their condolences. I accepted unwanted hugs. I could feel t
he eyes of Sherriff Don and my mother watching me.

  Malcom wasn’t there, but Tara had been able to talk her parents into letting her skip half a day of school to come to the funeral. She stuck by me the whole time. It was hard to ignore her questioning stares out of the corner of my eyes, however, I was unable to bring myself to actually say what was on my mind.

  After the church services were concluded, we all followed Granny as she rode in her flashy cream casket to her final resting place in the church graveyard. The hole had already been dug up the day prior by some sort of construction vehicle judging by the tire tread impressions left in the grass. The funeral home in charge of getting everything together had dutifully brought over the huge mass of flowers from various well-wishers that’d been at her house for the wake.

  “Ashes to ashes dust to dust,” rambled Reverend Smith as we all huddled together around the casket as it was lowered deep down into the ground. Buzzing and tingling filled my ears. I looked around me wondering where it was coming from. I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, and it sounded electrical. I trembled. Tammy jerked her hand out to steady me, and I prayed I wouldn’t faint.

  I fixed my gaze on one of the numerous bouquets of flowers out front and focused on taking some deep breaths. They were shaky at first, in and out, in and out. I hoped nobody else would notice my grand maul panic attack.

  A sharp inhale from me got Tammy’s attention. In my peripheral vision, I saw her slowly looking at me and how she followed the direction of my eyes. The lovely little May bells in one of the bouquets out front were ringing. Honest to God, ringing like tinkling little bells. Tammy’s eyes got real wide and her mouth fell slack, and I started to fear she would be the one to suffer a fainting spell. Our eyes met and held for a long moment. Then as if in agreement, we both looked around us, up into the still, silent trees. Not even an easy breeze. Impossible. The May bells continued to shake. None of the other flowers, even the other flowers arranged with the magical May bells moved even the slightest little bit. A small part of me was elated that Tammy could see it too, and I wasn’t alone in whatever in God’s name was happening to me. Tammy took a half step closer to me, taking my hand in hers. I rested my head on her shoulder. To an onlooker it would seem that she was consoling me, and she was consoling me, comforting me for my loss and circumstances as well.

  After the services were over, we all filed over to the community building like good little sheep to share a pot luck meal to honor the memory of my granny. Usually, we would have done something like that at her place, but since we’d had the wake there last night, Mom decided to have the meal after the service here.

  “Hey, want to head to the ladies room?” asked Tammy, and she steered me in that direction without waiting for me to answer. No sooner had the door closed behind us, Tammy was looking under all the stall doors.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Making sure we’re alone, obviously,” she whispered. Satisfied, she turned on her heel and locked the heavy door.

  “Spill,” she commanded, her long auburn curls shaking about her face. The intensity of her face, scattered with freckles was comical, even for her, but it was a weary sigh rather than a laugh that escaped from my lips.

  What? I motioned with my hands.

  “Oh, come on, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  I stood silent not knowing where to begin, not knowing if I could even trust Tammy with this. What if she thought I was crazy, like lock you up and throw away the key kinda crazy? What if I lost her?

  She walked the few steps from the door and got right up in my face. “This is the way I see it,” her voice still a whisper. “Your grandmother is obviously trying to make contact from the grave. I saw those flowers moving, and you did too. And I could tell by the look on your face that this isn’t the first time she’s reached out to you.”

  Before I could even say, “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation,” someone was knocking at the door. “Oh, thank God,” I said.

  Tammy swatted my arm. “I’m just trying to help you, Kris, but this conversation isn’t over,” she added in a huff, unlocking the door. “Oh, Mrs. Smith, I’m so sorry,” Tammy explained, smooth as can be. “I just came in here to help Krystal collect herself, she’s just beside herself, losing her grandmother and all. I must have accidentally locked the door behind us. Oh, my, you look so lovely in that hounds tooth suit.”

  Tammy’s flattery of the preacher’s wife did the trick, and Mrs. Smith didn’t even bat an eye. No wonder where Tara got it from. Not to be cliché, but apparently the apple doesn’t fall far from the proverbial tree.

  “She’s so full of herself,” I said as soon we were out of ear shot. “And apparently, so am I, full of clichés, I mean.”

  “What the heck?” Tara grinned, shaking her head, and I tapped mine with my index finger.

  “If you only knew the cliché madness going on in this thing.”

  “Girl, you crazy.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know. Now, let’s get something to eat.”

  Chapter 5

  The sunlight outside was blinding, I shaded my eyes and checked my watch. Oh, hell, I was going to have to really hustle to make it to the bus stop in time. I forced myself into a sprint. My backpack, which I swear was getting heavier by the day, bounced and banged into me, and I cursed all the while. Why did our driveway have to be so damn long anyway? When I was maybe a hundred yards away from the road, I saw the yellow beast rounding the corner, so I frantically started waving my arms.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming!!!”

  The bus slowed to a stop, the doors squeaking loudly open. Ever hear of WD40, people?

  I huffed and puffed up the stairs, the bus driver, laughing at me, “Late start today, Miss Krystal?” I tried not to stare at her mouth as she talked, she was missing quite a few pearly whites. But she was a nice lady, so I smiled back at her.

  “Yes, ma’am, I sure did.” I answered as I started to walk down the skinny aisle.

  “So sorry to hear ‘bout your grandma,” the driver called out over the roar of the engine. “Ya’ll doing alright?”

  “Oh, I miss her already. But, yeah, we’re doing okay,” I answered as I collapsed into a seat next to Tammy. Malcolm was sitting in the seat across the aisle.

  “So, what the hell happened to you this morning?” The last part she whispered in a hushed tone.

  “Just give me a minute,” my words coming in between breaths. “I had to run the whole way down the driveway.”

  Malcolm whistled. “Girl,” he said, dragging it out. “That’s impressive.” And it was too. Our driveway was almost a whole mile long. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating, more like three fourths of a mile, but still, that’s long enough.

  “And with your backpack too.” He added and reached over to lift it up. “Dang, bet that’s thirty pounds.”

  “Believe me, my back is killing me.” I leaned forward, resting my forehead on the back of the seat in front of us and raised the hem of my top to expose my lower back. “Tammy, how does it look?”

  “Um. Not good.”

  I groaned. “I don’t even want to know.”

  Malcom reached over and patted my arm. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll be fine in a couple weeks.”

  “Oh Malcom, you sure do have a way of making a girl feel better,” I said wryly.

  Tammy thoughtfully pulled my shirt back into place for me. “So how are you today?”

  “Um, good I guess.” I paused for a second as I thought out my next words. “My mom got an interesting phone call just when I was walking out the door. That’s why I almost missed the bus. Mom was trying to decide if I should stay on home or come in for a half day.”

  “Girl, I would’ve kept my tail home if I was you.”

  “Me too,” added Tammy.

  “I just don’t want to get too far behind in Math and English. That’d be a bitch.”

  Malcolm rolled h
is eyes super slow for show and mumbled something about smarty pants, beta clubbers or something.

  I leaned over toward him. “Hmmm? Say something? Couldn’t quite make ya out.” We laughed.

  “So, who called?” asked Tammy.

  “Oh, man. I can’t remember his name. Some lawyer from outside Chapel Hill. Said he was calling about making arrangements for settling Granny’s will.”

  “That’s not too weird. I mean you had to expect she had some sort of will or last requests or whatever.”

  “Yeah, I know, it’s just, well,” I paused, “he said I’d have to be there. I don’t see why really. I expect most everything will be split between Mom and her brother. If they can find him that is.”