Deadly Decision (8 page)

“These old houses have such great bones. People can't afford to build places like these anymore.” Barbara glanced my way when I came in. “Trina's been showing me the family tree in the old Bible. Amazing.”

Ted appeared, smelling of soap, his fine blonde hair still wet but neatly combed. He extended his hand to Barbara.

“I'm in love with your house.” Barbara accepted the outstretched hand.

“We've really been working hard. The biggest job was cleaning out the trash. Lots of old magazines and papers, but probably Trina's told you all about that.”

“She said you made a hundred trips to the dump.”

“I don't know if it was a hundred,” Ted said, rubbing the back of his neck, “but for a few days that's all I got done, going back and forth.”

“Do you have a trailer?”

“We used the pickup truck that belonged to a previous tenant.”

“Oh, the sandy-haired skinny kid—”

“That's him.” Trina laughed. “That's how Dad would describe him anyway.”

“Your dad told me all about him,” Barbara said. “I don't think he likes him much,” she whispered.

“Oh, Mitch is a good enough guy,” Ted said. “He just takes some getting used to.” He strained as he lifted the bulky suitcase. “I'll take this upstairs.”

“Your house is special,” Barbara said. “I can feel a—”

“Wait ‘til you see Ted's paintings,” I said. “Trina, aren't there some pictures we can show Barbara?”

“Dad, I didn't think you liked Ted's work.”

“Of course I like his work. Who wouldn't?”

Ted's muffled voice came through the stair railings, “I'll take Barbara on a tour of my workshop later if she wants.”

I hadn't planned on Ted overhearing my remark.

Too quickly we finished touring the downstairs. Next Trina led us to the stairs. “This is called a ladies' staircase because it is in the back of the house. That way, gentlemen could not see under ladies hoop skirts like they could if the stairs came down in the front of the house. The men waited in the parlor, you know.” As she continued her monologue, I glanced at my watch, wondering how many minutes I could waste discussing bathrooms.

We visited all the bedrooms and baths. Ted joined us halfway through. I checked my watch. Only twenty minutes gone by. Normally Trina could drag a tour of the house out forever. Why was she going through it so quickly today? I had to slow her down before she offered to show Barbara the attic. Later tonight, once Barbara had contacted Jimmy, then we could be open with the kids. Maybe then, they would accept the value of what a psychic could do. After all, Barbara's minister had just said on Sunday that we need to ‘open our minds to the natural world beyond us.'

“The bedrooms are lovely, Trina. You have a real gift for decorating. Was interior design your major in college?”

“No, actually it was elementary education. I worked a couple of years after graduation, and then Ted and I came down here, I fell in love with this house, and the rest is history.”

“What do you do, Barbara?” Ted asked.

“Wow, look at the time,” I said, pointing to my watch. “If we're going to beat the crowds to the restaurant for supper, we had better get going.”

“It's only three thirty,” Ted stated.

“Hate to wait in line.”

“It's really doesn't get that busy, Dad.”

“I'll show Barbara to her room. You two go get ready.” I grabbed Barbara by the hand and pulled her down the hallway, leaving Trina and Ted gaping after us.

 



 

After dinner, I waited until Ted and Trina had settled on the sofa and got caught up in a movie before I mentioned that Barbara had not finished the tour. Even the huge bowl of popcorn Ted had made did not dull my anticipation of what Barbara might find. I had waited as long as I could wait.

Why don't you stay here, and I'll show her around,” I suggested, shoving a fistful of the popped kernels into my mouth.

Trina glanced my way, then back to the television. “Go ahead, Dad. I think we got to most of it.” Trina's face looked haggard. Tonight her fatigue worked to my advantage.

I led Barbara up the ladies' stairway, and snatched a blanket for her to sit on from the shelf in my bedroom. I hoped it wouldn't take too long to clear her mind so her saint could do his thing. It would be impossible for me to clear mine.

My heart rate accelerated as I led Barbara up the attic steps. The wait was almost over; I was going to find out why Jimmy had contacted me!

“It looks exactly like you described it,” Barbara murmured as she glanced around.

“Do you think Jimmy will show up?”

“Why wouldn't he?”

“You're a psychic, and I was alone last time…”

“Ted and Trina were with you.”

“I know but that was different.” And it was different. There was a comfort in sharing the experience. I didn't know if Jimmy would show himself visually as before, or speak through Barbara. It really didn't matter; we just needed to make contact.

As I spread the blanket in the middle of the floor, the air grew colder. A strangling, garbled sound came from behind me.

I turned around.

Barbara's head was lifted toward the ceiling and tilted at an awkward angle. Standing stiff, her eyes were closed. The garbled sounds were coming from Barbara's throat. Her beautiful face was distorted so markedly that it was hard to recognize her.

“Barbara?”

I reached for her but stopped as macabre sounds poured out of her mouth.

The icy air thickened. I could barely breathe. The sounds changed into wailing, hissing, and groaning. I covered my ears, but the reverberations penetrated through my hands.

Barbara's head snapped down. Her eyes opened. The light blue orbs that had entranced me now burned with an inner blackness.

Something horrible was using Barbara's body. I stood frozen to the spot, horror seeping through me.

She started to laugh, a manic, wild laugh, not the gentle girl-like laugh of the woman I knew.

I shivered as all life drained from me. I knew I should shake her, plead with the entity inside her to leave, do something. But I was afraid—afraid that whatever was in her might find a way into me.

God help me!

Barbara fell to the floor in an unconscious heap.

 

 

 

 

11

 

Trina and Ted heard me struggling to carry Barbara down the narrow attic stairs. I explained that the heat, the big supper, and fatigue from her flight must have been too much. Trina found an ice pack and gently placed it on the motionless woman's forehead while I stood helplessly at Barbara's feet, my icy hands tucked into my armpits.

“Are you sure we shouldn't take her to the hospital?” Ted stared at the unconscious woman on his couch. “How do you know she just passed out? Maybe she had a heart attack or a stroke, or something.” He knew as much about medicine as I did—next to nothing.

The thought of taking Barbara to the hospital was enough to give me a stroke. Who would Barbara be when she woke up? Would she be herself or the frightening entity from the attic? It would be hard to deal with a possessed Barbara at the house, but I sure didn't want to have to explain her behavior to the emergency room staff. No doubt, they would send both of us to the psych unit.

Barbara moved her head, and then lifted one arm. She rubbed her eyes, knocking off the ice pack. My muscles tightened in preparation for what might come.

“Where am I?”

Elated to hear her normal voice, I rushed from her feet to her head and put a trembling hand on her shoulder. I needed to keep her from saying anything about what happened in the attic. She and I would talk later.

“Welcome back. You passed out. Too much heat, I think.” My eyes locked with hers.

She seemed to understand, but would she keep quiet?

“I'm so sorry. It has been a big day.”

“Are you all right?” Ted asked. “Do you want to go to the hospital?”

“I'm fine.” She gave Ted one of her heart-warming smiles. As she struggled to sit up, Ted moved to help her, but I was closer.

Sitting next to her, I placed a protective arm over her shoulders. Something had happened that I couldn't explain, and it involved a woman I was beginning to care about.

“Can I get you a glass of water?” Trina asked.

“No, really, I'm just fine.”

We settled around her like vultures ready for the spoils of the kill, waiting for her to make the next move. Ted had turned the television off, and after about thirty minutes of small talk, Barbara decided it was time to go to bed.

“Would you like me to stay in your room with you tonight?” Trina asked.

“I'm a big girl, and used to being on my own. It's sweet of you, Trina, but there's no need. Maybe Bill can help me get upstairs.”

Good for you Barbara! We need to talk.

I took her arm and helped her up the stairs. Once in her room, I shut the door behind us. “What in the world happened to you up there?”

“You said I passed out.”

“That's not what I'm talking about. That was not the voice of a small boy coming out of you.”

“I don't remember.” She sounded tired as she settled on the edge of the bed. “I usually don't remember what happens when I go into a trance. My body is given willingly to whatever spirit needs to use it. I become a passenger within myself.”

“You never acted like that before.”

“Did Jimmy come?”

“What I heard coming out of your mouth was about as far from the voice of Jimmy Roberts as the south is from the north.” I flung my arms to illustrate.

She gave a tired smile at the unintended rhyme. “Whatever happened frightened you. Trust me, there's nothing to be upset over. Most people are afraid of what they don't—”

“What I saw in the attic was way beyond what I don't know. You were possessed by something, and it was evil.”

“I wasn't possessed. I allowed my body to be used by a spirit.”

“What's the difference?”

“So I didn't make contact with Jimmy?”

I didn't respond.

“I have never gone into a trance so fast. I didn't even have time to clear my mind. I was really successful.”

“Successful? Is that what you call it? I have to tell you, you scared the wits out of me. Thank goodness Trina and Ted weren't there.”

“Why are you so upset?”

“You honestly don't remember?”

“No. I told you—”

“I guess I didn't think you meant it.”

“What happened?”

Taking a deep breath, I sat beside her on the bed and described the strange position of her head, the distortion of her face, the sounds she made, the other-worldly laugh.

“I don't know what you want me to say. Apparently, there was another spirit stronger than Jimmy who needed my voice. Sometimes that happens.”

A frightening thought raced through my mind. “Do you think it was the other ghost boy?”

“I don't know, Bill. I never know what spirit uses my voice.”

“You don't have any control over who comes and goes in your body? What kind of gift from God is that?”

Barbara's eyes glared. “I don't question God's gift,” she snapped. “You don't question His gift to you of being mechanical. Or of Trina's gift of hospitality. And what about Ted's artistic gift? You don't challenge God for those.”

A red blotch on her neck blazed. “God has given me the ability to be a conduit between two worlds. It's a rare gift. To answer your question, no, I don't question who God allows to use my body.”

The conversation was getting me nowhere.

“Can we sleep on it, Bill? Things will look different in the morning, I promise.”

Her mouth curved into a smile, but it was tired around the edges, and this time my heart didn't respond.

 



 

That night the dream came again. A man on horseback. A gaping chasm between us. Falling. Knowing I was going to die. Gut-wrenching panic. I woke, as usual, shaking and covered in sweat. I glanced at the clock and groaned. It would be dark for at least four more hours.

Barbara may have inherited a curse from her family, but I also had mine. Of the two, Barbara's curse frightened me more.

A soft buzzing brought me to attention. I went to the open window. Night air, moist and still warm stroked my face. Fresh from my experience in the attic, I bristled against the unseen intimacy.

As I turned from the window, the buzzing started again. Somewhere closer. I scanned the room, leery of every shadow that melted on the floor. My heart pounded. Where was the sound coming from?

Come on Bill, relax. There is a rational explanation.

Then I heard it the third time. This time the buzz had substance.

“Deuteronomy 18: 10-12.”

I put my fingers in my ears and wiggled them around. I sat on the edge of the bed and looked around. Nothing seemed to be out of place, none of the shadows moved.

My vision landed on the bible I had brought from home.

Is it possible?

This is craziness, but what in my life had been normal lately? The scripture reference burned in my memory. I brought the bible back to the bed and turned to Deuteronomy. Then chapter 18, verse 10.

“Let no one be found among you who sacrifices his son or daughter in the fire, who practices divinations or sorcery, interprets omens, engages in witchcraft, or casts spells, or who is a medium or spiritualist or who consults the dead. Anyone who does these things is detestable to the Lord…”

Fear clawed at my throat until breath refused to enter my body.

What had I done? What had I brought to Trina's house?