Authors: Goldie Browning
“You’re wrong,” Tyme handed her two more stacks. “It’s not nearly enough. Here’s ten thousand more. That ought to get you and Harry a pretty good start.”
“Tyme, I can’t take this.”
“Yes, you can.” Tyme folded Ivy’s hands around the money. “I’m not going to let that brother of mine ruin your life the way he did mine. Harry is the perfect man for you and I want to see you both happy together. I would say the timing is just about perfect.”
“Are you going to stay here and keep putting up with Chauncey?”
“Actually, no. Now that I’ve found what I’ve been looking for, I think it’s time to say goodbye to Eureka Springs.” Tyme bent down and whispered. “Clyde and I have been talkin’ about goin’ out to Hollywood. We thought we might get work dancin’ in the movies, so I guess it’s about time we got hitched.”
“Oh, Tyme. That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks, kiddo. I’m happy too. I’ve really grown to love him. But I think we should all vamoose tonight, before anybody has a chance to stop us.”
“What about the store? Won’t it take some time to sell it?”
“Humph. I’m sure my brother will take care of that—you see, your dear Uncle Chauncey didn’t see fit to leave the store or anything else to me. He left everything to Caleb.”
“My father owns the store?”
“Yep. He’s been letting his little sister live here for the past six months out of
Christian charity
, so he says. But I’m sure he’d be kicking me out real quick, now that he’s having money problems
and
he’s mad at me.”
“Do you think he knows about the money?”
“Are you kidding? If he’d known about this, he’d have already been here with a wrecking crew.” Tyme put her finger to her lips and then started scooping the treasure back into the bags. “He mustn’t find out.”
“Don’t worry about me.” Ivy giggled and helped her. “I’ll never tell.”
“We’ve only got a couple more hours before we meet the guys over at Doc’s place. Why don’t you go on upstairs and pack your things? I’ll start loading up the car.”
Ivy nodded and headed up the stairs, but halfway up, she hesitated. “What about the children?”
“What children?”
“You know, the ghost children and their mother. We can’t leave them here with Chauncey.” Ivy glanced around the darkened store. “It just wouldn’t be fair.”
“You’re right. I’ve been meaning to do this for a long time, but I kind of liked having them around.” Tyme picked up the telephone and spoke to the town operator. “Hello, Mabel? Tyme…can you please connect me with Cordelia?...yes, I’m doin’ fine. Thanks for asking…bye now…hello, Cordelia? Tyme…I’ve got an emergency. Could you come over and help me do a
cleansing
?…yeah, I’m in a big hurry…okay, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
“Who was that?”
“That was Madame Cordelia. She does séances and spiritual cleansings.” Tyme motioned up the stairs. “She’ll help the spirits move on to the next level. Go on now, get packed.”
Ivy went to her bedroom, pulled down her valise, and began packing her personal items. She pulled her dresses from their hangers, folded them, and stuffed them in her suitcase; everything she owned, reduced to two small bags.
She smiled when she thought about the adventure ahead. Harry would be so surprised when she handed him the fifteen thousand dollars. Why, that would be enough to buy a little farm some place, and get them started off right. She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.
Finished with her packing, Ivy walked downstairs with her luggage. A short, plump woman with long black hair sat with Tyme at a table in the back of the darkened store. She wore a red dress with a brightly colored shawl. She stood and smiled when she saw Ivy.
“Ivy, I’d like you to meet my friend, Cordelia.”
Cordelia’s gray eyes sparkled with warmth. “Hello, dear. Your aunt’s told me so much about you. I’m glad we finally got to meet.”
Ivy returned the greeting, sat in the vacant chair, and stared at the objects on the table—an abalone shell, a book of matches, and several gnarled, wooden sticks. Cordelia struck a match, lit one end of each stick, and placed them in the shell. Ivy wrinkled her nose at the odor of burning sage.
“Let us all hold hands,” said Cordelia.
Ivy watched the ritual, fascinated with the medium’s careful preparation. The three women formed a circle, their arms resting on the table, their fingers intertwined. She shivered when she noticed the lights in the other rooms flicker and heard the buzz of the electric lights.
Madame Cordelia closed her eyes and breathed deeply. The smoke from the burning sage lingered in the air. Ivy’s pulse quickened when she felt the drop in room temperature. She tightened her grip on Tyme’s hand.
“I sense four entities in this house,” said Madame Cordelia. “Three are frightened and the other is angry—dangerously so.”
“Can you see them?” asked Tyme.
“Yes, I see a young woman. Her face is covered in bruises and she’s holding her arm as if it were hurt…there are two children with her, a boy and a girl…they’re afraid of the other spirit.”
“Chauncey.” Tyme’s lip curled when she spoke his name. The lights buzzed again and a light bulb exploded in the hall.
Ivy flinched, but Madame Cordelia and Tyme held her fast.
“Do not break the circle. He can’t hurt you. The smoke from the smudge sticks will protect you.”
Ivy nodded and gritted her teeth while Madame continued the ritual. They hadn’t had any smoke or circles before. What had protected them then?
“The lady tells me she and the children ran away from her abusive husband and came to Eureka Springs in 1910…she’d heard that Carry Nation lived here and that she ran a shelter and refuge for women like herself.”
Surprised, Ivy asked, “Carry Nation? The hatchet lady?”
Madame nodded. “She said Mother Nation took them in, doctored her wounds, and made them feel welcome. But her husband tracked her and the children down. He followed them to this very building and murdered them—and they haven’t known what to do since it happened …for the last twenty-eight years they’ve been waiting for someone to show them where to go.”
“Oh, I feel so bad,” said Tyme. “I wish we’d done this a long time ago.”
“We can all help them now. Close your eyes and focus internally. Imagine a bubble of white light inside of you, deep in your body.”
Ivy closed her eyes and tried to conjure up the imaginary bubble. But it wasn’t easy to do with all the hissing and buzzing. By now the room was icy cold. She opened one eye just in time to see a bolt of cloth go flying off a high shelf. She closed her eyes again and prayed for it all to just go away.
“Imagine the bubble expanding in all directions, out past your body,” Madame continued as chaos reigned. “Now imagine the white light pushing the negative energy until it fills the room and pushes it out through the windows and the doors.”
Ivy felt the table start to shake and she heard the grandfather clock upstairs striking the hour over and over. She heard glass shattering and furniture rolling across the floor. The Victrola began to play a Rudee Valle song. Her instincts told her to get up and run, but instead she squeezed her eyes shut, clutched the other women’s hands, and held on for dear life.
“It’s working,” exclaimed Madame, her eyes tightly closed. “They see the white light—they’re running towards it—oh, no—the evil one is trying to stop them—he’s chasing them—he’s got the little girl’s pinafore in his hand—tugging on it…”
Ivy tensed with fear and then she heard it; the shrill, piercing blast of a whistle. She heard a thump on the table. Afraid to look, she kept her eyes tightly shut.
“He let her go to cover his ears—they made it—the white light is gone—the evil one is now alone.”
Silence descended on the room and the temperature instantly warmed. Ivy opened her eyes and glanced around the room. If a tornado had blown through, she doubted the destruction would have been greater. The three women relaxed and let go of each other’s hands.
“Will you look at that?” Tyme pointed to the middle of the table.
Sitting in the abalone shell, nestled between the burning smudge sticks, was the little Cracker Jack whistle she had given to the children weeks before.
Ivy exhaled and rubbed her arms. She still had goose bumps from the long exposure to the frigid air and the horrifying experience. “Are they really gone?”
Cordelia nodded. “Yes, thank goodness. The family has gone on to the next level. But Chauncey is still here. He refused to go.”
“I guess he’s not ready to burn in hell yet,” remarked Tyme. “Cordelia, thank you for everything you’ve done.” She stood, put her hands on her hips and gazed around the room. “He certainly did make a mess, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he did. I’ve never seen so much rage. He’s used up a lot of energy, but you should go as quickly as possible before he starts back up again.” She reached into a pocket in her skirt and pulled out a jar of white crystals. She poured some into her hand, and tossed it around the room. “The salt will keep you safe for a while, but you shouldn’t wait too long. Goodbye and good luck,” said Cordelia.
Tyme embraced Cordelia, then pressed a hundred dollar bill in her palm. “Please don’t tell anybody about this.”
Cordelia nodded and thanked Tyme profusely. She hugged Ivy, gathered up her paraphernalia, and left.
“Well, are you about ready to go, kiddo?”
“I think so.” Ivy glanced around. “I can’t wait to get out of here.”
“Me neither. But we probably ought to go upstairs and take one more look around. I don’t want to forget something important and then have to come back. There’s not much room in the car, so we’ve gotta travel light. I’m afraid the guys are gonna have to sit on our luggage in the backseat. Chauncey’s loot completely filled up the rear steamer trunk. ”
The two women cautiously climbed the stairs, carefully stepping over the debris from Chauncey’s rampage. Ivy’s nose twitched when she noticed a scorched smell, but she dismissed it, assuming it to be residual odor from the smudge sticks.
“Do you hear that?” asked Tyme. “It sounds like music.”
Ivy stopped and listened. The hairs on her neck stood on end when she too heard the faint, tinkling melody. She opened the bedroom door and gasped when she saw the music box lying on the bed. Tears ran down her cheeks as she picked it up. She deposited the whistle inside the powder box, carried it down the stairs, and followed Tyme to the car.
The children wouldn’t need their gifts any more.
“So long, Chauncey.” Tyme saluted and the two women left the house together. They put their suitcases inside the car, and then backed out of the garage.
Ivy turned in her seat and glanced back at the building. The darkened windows were like black, staring eyes. She shuddered, wondering if Chauncey watched them as they made their get-away. Her heart jolted when she saw a bright orange light at the upstairs window. Could the place be on fire? Then she noticed the setting sun reflecting on the windowpanes of surrounding buildings and concern for the store they were abandoning left her mind as the car made its way out of town.
She turned around, relaxed in her seat, and prepared to live happily ever after.
“Hallelujah, we’re on our way.” Tyme pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and exhaled. “What a relief.”
“I know. I’m still in shock over what just happened.”
“Um hm.” Tyme tapped her cigarette out the window. “Happy days are here again.”
Ivy stared wistfully at the passing scenery. “I know Harry and I are going to have a wonderful life. But I feel kind of sorry for Mama and Papa now.”
“Why do you feel sorry for them?”
“Because they’re both so miserable. I can’t ever remember a time when they were happy together.”
“I do.” Tyme finished her smoke and threw the butt out the window. “They were really happy right up until Danny died.”
“Who?”