Sarah Gilman - Ghosts of the Falls

What an odd place for an exorcism .

Jade Clarence walked along a dirt road through lush, green woods, her legs stiff after the three-hour drive into Maine. During her career, she’d exorcised malicious spirits from unwilling human hosts, houses, schools, cemeteries, even a grocery store, but never from a remote state park.

The trees formed a cathedral ceiling of green overhead, and the wide Quinnetukut River rushed over the rocky riverbed to her left before narrowing and plunging into a gorge. Such a vibrant place, so full of life. It should have been immune to a haunting.

Perhaps the man who had called about the ghost was a smart-ass prankster? He’d sounded sincere, according to her brother Jeremy’s notes. Besides, there had been other witnesses to the unusual Hutchinson Park Motel haunting and the fire that followed.

Shattering windows. Levitating furniture. Water turning red. If the description of the haunting turned out to be accurate, a spirit more powerful than any her family had encountered in decades, since her grandfather’s time, inhabited the area.

That said a lot about how much her younger brother Jeremy still trusted her, despite all the mistakes she’d made recently. This was her chance to prove herself, to earn her brothers’ respect and to convince them not to cast her out of the family business.

Unclenching her fisted hands, she forced herself to relax. She held too much stress in her body these days. Grinding her teeth in her sleep. Tension headaches. Sometimes a muscle ticked next to her eye. After she removed this ghost, she should spend a few extra days here, breathing the air, watching the trees sway in the breeze. Perhaps she could find a nice swimming spot where she could relax in the sun. Then she could go home refreshed, to resume her normal workload.

The road led, supposedly, to the grave of the ghost blamed for the incidents. Nearing the gorge, Jade picked up her pace. The burial site was, in her experience, the best place to start.

Hutchinson’s Falls, read a faded, wooden sign mounted on a tree. The roar of the rushing water drowned out the bird songs of the forest. Mist from the falls moistened both her face and her inappropriate-for-hiking-in-the-woods black cotton dress. When she’d first arrived, she hadn’t thought she’d have to venture this far. Shivering, she kept walking, alert for any signs of a spirit presence.

“Hello there, ma’am,” a male voice called.

Jade’s breath caught in her throat and she pivoted. Several yards away, a man lifted his hands and showed her his palms. He appeared about her age—mid-twenties. He wore heavy boots and dark pants. The toasted skin tone of his bare torso and his physical condition suggested he spent all day, each day, laboring in the sun.

Nice.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said in a warm, pleasant voice. “I live nearby. Not many of the park visitors venture all the way out here, so I thought maybe you’d gotten lost.”

She held out her hand as he approached, hoping he turned out as friendly as he sounded. More nervous of a man—and a handsome one at that—on a public trail than of a possible ghost in the area? That was her life, having grown up around spirits but never having much luck socializing with the living. “I’m Jade Clarence. I’m not lost. I was just looking around.”

“They call me Dutch.” He shook her hand, his eyebrows raised. “Clarence. So, you’re the exorcist? I wasn’t expecting you. No one returned my call.”

Ah, so he was the client. Dutch Vernon, according to the file. She swallowed, forced a neutral expression, and hoped he wouldn’t take offense at the truth. “I wanted to visit the site firsthand before we spoke. We get many prank calls.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do. No worries.” Dutch rubbed the back of his neck and glanced toward the falls. “So, can you sense the ghost?”

“I haven’t noticed anything yet, but I just got here.”

“You will.” His eyes, dark brown with flecks of green, shifted back in her direction. Her heart sped up under the force of his intense, honest stare. “I swear.”

Let’s hope so . She wouldn’t mind sticking around to see those eyes again. “Tell you what, Mr. Vernon, I’m staying in the park’s campground. Tomorrow I’ll have a better idea what I’m dealing with. Would you be willing to give me a tour in the morning? I need to see the burial site you mentioned when you called.”

“Of course. The grave is on the other side of the gorge. It’s tricky to find but not impossible to reach.” He paused, his gaze wandering over her face. “And you can call me Dutch. See you then, Jade.”

He walked away along the road, and the corners of Jade’s mouth grew heavy. If only there’d been something to talk to him about besides the haunting. When had she last had a conversation with a good-looking man?

She shook her head. Her regular schedule left no time for dating or romance. Though far from either of those, spending the morning with Dutch would be a welcome change of pace.

With a sigh, she returned to her car, checked her scribbled directions, and headed for the campground.

…

Dutch’s corporeal body dissolved into the breeze like a wisp of fog. All physical sensation faded, leaving him with only his thoughts and his disappointment.

Despite the reputation of the Clarence family he’d gleaned from the computer in the park’s office, Jade hadn’t picked up on what he was even after looking him in the eye and shaking his hand. Hopefully, his physical body had simply masked him from whatever senses she relied on.

He drifted through the trees, moving like a gust of wind toward the campground on the far side of the ten-thousand-acre park. Beyond the gorge, the river calmed and widened. A cluster of colorful tents lined one side of the rock-strewn bank. He skimmed the ground, passing through the trunks of pine and oak trees. A Labrador sitting in front of a red tent lifted its head and growled.

Rustic cabins sat on a cleared knoll with a view of the river. A black Chevy sedan sat in front of the park office, a Tinker Bell doll hanging from the rearview mirror—Dutch had seen the character many times on the tiny, fascinating computers children carried around these days.

He hovered at the base of a flagpole and waited.

Jade emerged from the office, clutching paperwork, and eased the screen door shut. Her earthy coloring reminded him of the Abenaki Native Americans who owned the land north of the park.

She froze halfway to her car and shivered, despite the sun that lit up her features. She scanned her surroundings, her eyes half-closed as if paying more attention to senses other than sight.

That’s more like it . Dutch drifted closer and stopped a foot in front of her.

Her gaze didn’t focus on him. She closed her eyes and inhaled a slow, deep breath. “Hello, Spirit.”

Dutch stayed silent. By focusing energy behind his thoughts, he could manifest his voice without his physical body, but she would recognize him. They had a date in the morning, and he longed for the opportunity for a normal conversation, absent of the “I’m a ghost and I want to be exorcised” topic.

Seeking company every so often, he would assume his corporeal body and speak with fishermen about trout and the weather, but he hadn’t spoken to a woman since his death. None of the female tourists who visited the park over the years had been worth the trouble, and most came with their husbands and children, anyway. In his non-corporeal form, he spent most days hovering among the guests so loneliness didn’t drive him out of his incorporeal skull.