Sarah Gilman: Ghosts of the Falls

Dutch stepped onto the road, where moonlight glinted off her parked car. He set her on her feet. She held on to his shoulders and didn’t move away.

“We need to talk, but it’s late.” He lifted a hand to her arm. “You should go back and get warm.”

He vanished. His face inches from hers, gone. His hand on her arm, gone. A cold breeze kissed her skin. A second later, even though she stood alone by the car, a hint of warm air brushed her ear and cheek like a soft caress.

Dutch’s voice whispered, “Goodnight, Jade Clarence.”

“Dutch?” Jade stood by the car, still holding the brown shirt. Insects buzzed around her head. “Dutch, come back.”

And then his voice, gone.

“Fine, but you better come see me tomorrow. First thing.” She could summon him with an incantation and confront him now, but that’d cause him more pain. Observing Aaron during an exorcism one time, she’d witnessed a begging spirit describe being summoned as having a flaming noose around his neck. The poor creature had clawed at himself in a useless attempt to break free.

Chilled to her soul, she got in the car and headed back to the cabin. She showered and pulled a nightgown over her head. Her mind buzzed, churning over the day’s events, and her muscles were in knots. The clock chimed ten times, but how could she sleep when she was this tense?

She opened the long, black case that traveled everywhere with her and took out her viola, the scent of resin filling her nose. Her mind calmed the moment her fingers brushed the strings. Standing in the low light, she played from memory. Her musical hobby had kept her sane over the years, and the soothing activity didn’t disappoint this time, either.

She spent an hour in her own personal heaven, running her favorite solos one after another. The strings vibrated under her fingers and her chin.

Her heart rate slowed, her muscles relaxed, and her mind calmed. Tomorrow, she would figure this mess out.

The sharp ring of her phone interrupted the musical passage and her thoughts.

The screen on her phone displayed her little brother’s name.

“Hey, Jay,” Jeremy greeted her. “How’d it go? You didn’t call.”

“Sorry. It was…an unusual day.”

“Unusual?” Concern filled his voice. “What happened?”

She swallowed. “The spirit isn’t hostile.”

“Jay—”

“This is nothing like the barn spirit.”

Jeremy cursed. “But you didn’t perform the exorcism.”

“No.” She groaned internally. If only she could lie to her little brother. “I have to go. No one is in danger here and I’ll explain later. Bye.” She cut off his protest with the disconnect button.

Shit. Jeremy would have to tell Aaron. She muttered to herself, “This is not going to end well.”

Dutch ached. He assumed his corporeal body to mask his presence and sat on the porch of Jade’s cabin, listening to the viola, trying to will the pain away.

He’d never felt sensation of any kind without his physical body prior to the invisible chains created by Jade’s words. Stuck underground in the hollow of his own grave, he’d forced himself not to struggle against the sensation of being beaten over every inch of his body. But the exorcism hadn’t come. Hours passed. When the searing pain ebbed, he’d fought and struggled until he’d broken free.

But discomfort lingered. He longed to head for the cold water of the river, but he remained outside Jade’s cabin, drawn to the rhythmic sounds of the viola. He’d grown up with music of this kind and hadn’t heard the like in decades.

She played for an hour, but all too soon, the melodies silenced and the light from the window blinked out. He retreated to a section of the river far from the park guests and waded into the soothing water.

If only she’d finished the exorcism, all of this would be over. But of course she’d stayed her hand; or rather, her words. She’d seen through his “bad-spirit” charade, and she possessed too much heart to exorcise an innocent. Question was, did she have enough compassion to exorcise a spirit who asked it of her?

…

The morning sun warming his back, Dutch knelt at the base of a hollow tree and pulled out the suitcase a tourist had forgotten at the park years ago. Inside, he kept the items he’d gathered over the years from Hutchinson Park’s Lost and Found and from vacant campsites. It amazed him what people managed to forget. Trying his best to keep up with the times, he would toss items and replace them every decade or so. Today, the effort would finally pay off.

He changed into shoes, a pair of jeans, and a button-down shirt. Unsure of how much he needed, he pocketed all the money.

An hour’s walk brought him to the park entrance and the small market across the street, where he purchased two coffees and cinnamon scones. He made his way to Jade’s cabin and knocked, then called out, “Morning. I brought breakfast.”

Jade opened the door. She was dressed in jeans and a blue tank top. Her eyes narrowed. She folded her arms, glowering.

“Coffee?” He held out the tray that supported large paper cups. “Peace offering.”

After a pause, she blinked and took one. “Thank you.”

“There’re scones, too.” He set the paper bag on the porch table.

“You can eat?” She removed the plastic lid of her coffee, one delicate eyebrow arched.

He grinned. “You’re the ghost expert.”

“No one in my family has encountered a spirit like you in my lifetime.”

He settled in one of the weathered plastic chairs and sipped the hot, over-sweetened liquid. When you only bothered to eat once every few decades, why go light on the sugar? “I can eat, but I don’t have to. All I have to do is revert to my incorporeal state when hunger sets in.”

She took the chair opposite him and broke a scone into pieces. His attention followed as she brought a morsel to her lips.

“You play beautifully, by the way.” He forced his attention away from her mouth. Small calluses gave texture to the tips of her fingers on her left hand.

“You listened to me?” The words came out clipped.

He scratched his chin. “Ah, yeah. Sorry. I checked to make you sure you’d made it back okay, and then I couldn’t resist listening. You had me entranced.”

“You like that kind of music?”

“I lived in the late eighteen hundreds, and some habits never change. All this modern shit the park staff and visitors listen to is noise to me.”

“Mmm.” She studied her scone for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “So. You lied to me several times yesterday. Time to clear the air. The car trouble lie is obvious. You don’t have one.”

He nodded.

“I asked what happened the day the ghost died, other than the traumatic death itself. You said you didn’t know.” Challenge filled her gaze.

Long-buried pain clawed at him. He forced the memories down. “What happened doesn’t matter.”

“You tried to trick me into exorcising you.” Her voice hardened. “You owe me some answers.”

“I didn’t call you because of my death. I called you because of my afterlife.” He set the coffee aside. “I want an end to this, Jade. I’ve been here since 1890. ‘Lonely’ doesn’t even begin to describe it. I’ve made the best of this existence for decades, but it’s gone on too long. I’m asking you to help me.”

She leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “It’ll destroy you.”

“I’m aware.” He held her gaze. “Will you please think about it? I don’t need an answer right now. I admit, there is something else I feel compelled to do.”

“Such as?”

“Are you still willing to have dinner with me?”