Slow Dance in Purgatory (25 page)

             
He crept closer, careful to avoid brushing against the boy or the old man.  He knelt at Maggie’s head and stroked her hair without stirring a single strand.  Sliding his hands under her head and shoulders, he eased her up slightly and, just as he hoped, she struggled to push herself upright.  He whispered her name, and she trembled in response.

             
“Johnny?”  His name was a mournful sound on her lips, and the old man stiffened as if he’d been struck.  The boy stumbled back, clearly afraid.   

             
Johnny instantly retreated; with a flash of energy he stood several yards back, once again observing. 

             
Gus and Shad were able to coax Maggie to her feet, her slight body wedged between them, her arms along their shoulders, and their arms around her waist.  She leaned heavily into Shad, and Johnny felt a stab of jealousy so intense it made him catch his breath and clutch his chest.  What he wouldn’t give to walk from these walls, out into the early morning air, his arm around the girl he loved.

             
Somehow, Maggie communicated the whereabouts of her possessions, because Shad released her and ran ahead to the girls’ locker room.  Gus remained by her side, walking slowly, his thin arm around her shoulders as they neared the exit doors.  Johnny followed at a distance.

             
As they pushed through, Gus glanced back and for a moment his eyes met Johnny’s.  His lips thinned and his brows lifted.  Shock flickered across his tired face.  “He sees me,” Johnny thought before the door swooshed closed, and Maggie and Gus became part of the black that was beyond. 

             

             
             

16

“I ALMOST LOST MY MIND”

Pat Boone - 1958

 

 

 

 

 

             
“Something terrible has happened to her, Gus!”

             
“She didn’t look physically hurt, Miss Honeycutt.  No blood, no bruises, and her clothing wasn’t torn or mussed.  She was asleep…just lying in the hallway, fast asleep.”

             
“She’s positively catatonic, Gus!  She isn’t talking, isn’t making eye contact…something is wrong!  Who falls asleep on the floor in their party dress?  I don’t smell alcohol.  Could it be drugs?”

             
“Oh, no, Miss Honeycutt.  Miss Margaret isn’t into any of that.  Something is wrong, but it isn’t that.”
 

             
“Then what, Gus?  I can’t help her if I don’t know what has happened.”  Irene was understandably distraught.  She had awoken at an ungodly hour, one of the plagues of old age, and discovered that Maggie had never come home the night before.  She hadn’t known where to look, and Maggie had the car, so she had called Gus, seeking his help, and he, in turn, woke Shad.  Shad had been the one to suggest they start looking at the school.  Gus told Irene they would check and get right back to her.  When they had seen Irene’s car parked all alone in the big front parking lot, they had immediately commenced their search. 

             
Gus was silent.  He worked the brim of his hat around and around, chewing something over in his mind before he fed it to his old friend.  He sighed, knowing it just wasn’t in him to keep secrets.  She was going to think he was a crazy old man.
             

             
“It didn’t take us a long time to find her,” Gus started to recount the event for Irene.  “She looked like an abandoned doll, all dressed up and tossed aside.  When I first saw her,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “I thought she was dead.”

             
Irene gasped and held her hand to her trembling lips. 

             
Gus winced sympathetically.  “I’m so sorry, Miss Irene.  I’m just trying to help you understand what I saw.”

             
Irene nodded, urging him to continue.

             
“It scared me to death, and I cried out to Jesus and ran to her.  I think Shad thought the same thing, ‘cause he held back, probably afraid to see the truth.  When I got to her, I saw that she had been crying – probably for a long time.  But from what I could see she wasn’t injured or harmed.  I told Shad, ‘She’s sleeping, Shad, just sleeping.’  I thought that poor boy was gonna break down right there.  He’s had too much sadness in his young life.  He sure don’t need anymore.”  Gus put his hat on his head and took it off again.

             
“I kept patting her cheeks and shaking her, trying to wake her up.  She was sleeping so deeply.  I said to her over and over, “Miss Margaret, tell old Gus what’s wrong.  Wake up, child.”  She didn’t even stir.  I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to wake her up. I thought I could probably carry her, but it was a long way to the truck, and I needed her to wake up so I could make sure she was okay.”  Gus paused then, just for a moment, and with a deep breath he waded back in.

             
“All of a sudden, she kind of sat up, almost like somebody was helpin’ her.  It was the strangest thing.  She just kind of eased up, eyes still closed.  Then she said something, and it was loud and clear.  I know I didn’t misunderstand.”  Gus stopped short and looked at Irene.

             
“What?  Did she tell you what had happened?”  Irene’s eyes were wide, her hands clenched in her lap.

             
“No.  She just said one word.  She said….Johnny.”

             
“Johnny?  What’s that supposed to mean, Gus?  Who’s John…”  Irene’s voice faded off as she realized who Johnny was.  “Gus!  That’s crazy.”

             
“Shad and I both heard her say it.  It scared the boy.  He was shaking like a leaf.  That reminds me…”  Gus scratched his head, as if realizing something for the first time.  “Shad was giving Miss Margaret a hard time about something the other day, saying something about going steady or some such nonsense.  Asking if that’s how they did it in the ‘50s.”

             
“Did what?”  Irene was completely bewildered.

             
“Shad was teasing Miss Margaret about a boyfriend.”

             
“I don’t understand what you are insinuating, Gus.”  Irene was starting to get frustrated.  Gus was growing agitated as well, but not for the same reason.  He stood and began to pace the floor, still worrying his worn hat brim.

             
“Shad and I were able to get Miss Margaret up, and I asked her if she had the keys to the car.  She kind of pointed towards the ladies’ locker room, and I sent Shad off after her things.  She was pretty disoriented and shaky.  I helped her along and just as we were about to the doors, she said his name again…Johnny.”

             
“This is bizarre!”  Irene cried, her hands trembling again.

             
“I kind of felt strange, like someone was watching – you know the feeling – and I glanced over my shoulder as I held the door for Miss Margaret….and…I saw him.  He was standing there, watching us.”

             
“Who??”

             
“Johnny Kinross.  It was him, clear as day.  He looked….terrible…just terrible.”

             
“Terrible how?”  Irene had an image of a skeletal face peering out from a hooded black robe or a red-eyed demon sneaking up on her defenseless niece.

             
“There was so much sorrow in his face.  I’ve never seen such a sad face.”

             
“What does this all mean, Gus?”  Irene asked softly, believing her friend and wishing she didn’t.

             
“Tell me, Miss Honeycutt, has Miss Margaret ever mentioned seeing…ghosts?”

             
“Goodness, no!”  Irene huffed.  “She’s the most down-to-earth girl I know...“ Irene’s voice trailed off.  Her eyes grew thoughtful, and she tipped her head slightly as if remembering something from long ago.

             
“My younger sister, Lizzie, Maggie’s grandma, used to tell me the strangest stories when she was a girl.  At least I thought they were stories….”  Irene lost herself in the past once more.  After a moment she resumed speaking.

             
“She wasn’t very old when our mother died – maybe five or six.  The women in our family haven’t had much luck in life.”  Irene’s brave little smile cracked around the edges.  “Early death, very few children, difficult marriages – or maybe I should say difficult marriages, very few children, early death.”  Irene laughed humorlessly at herself.

             
“Anyway, Elizabeth, my little sister, came into my room about a week after my mother died.  I was about thirteen at the time.  Lizzie was crying and saying she wanted Momma.  I tried to comfort her, but she kept insisting Momma was in the kitchen, but that she wouldn’t talk to her.  It was so strange.  I had forgotten all about that.”  Irene looked up at Gus, a perplexed frown on her face.  He had stopped pacing and was listening intently. 

             
“There were several other times Lizzie claimed to see our mother, always doing mundane things.  Except for once, when Elizabeth was nine and fell out of her tree house and broke her leg.  She told me Momma had waited with her until our nanny found her.

             
“Our grandfather passed away not long after that.  I remember because Lizzie’s leg was still in a cast.  We pushed her around in this awful wheelchair for months. After the funeral, we went to our grandfather’s home for the wake.  Lizzie started laughing and pulling on my skirt.  She pointed to the rocking chair my grandfather always sat in and said, “He’s not dead Reney.  He’s right there!  Daddy was teasing us!”  My father was not amused.  In fact, he punished Lizzie pretty severely.  After that, I don’t remember her ever claiming to see someone who wasn’t there.  At the time, I thought she had just grown out of it….but maybe she just stopped telling us.”

             
Gus moved to where Irene was perched, her hands clasped neatly in her lap.  “Miss Irene, I think we need to consider that maybe your sister saw ghosts, and her granddaughter, our Margaret, does as well.”

             
“You think Johnny frightened her in some way….frightened her enough that she….what?  Spent the entire night in a haunted school?  That doesn’t make any sense.  Wouldn’t she run shrieking for home?”

             
“I don’t know what happened, but I think it is more in line with romance than with haunting,” Gus suggested gently.

             
“She’s…. in love…. with a ghost?” 

             
“That’d be my guess, yeah.  And he’s in love with her.”

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

             
Shad crept up the stairs to Maggie’s room, trying not to alert the adults below that he was there.  Both Irene and Gus were old fashioned farts who thought young men should never set foot in the bedrooms of young ladies.  How then, was a young man supposed to see his sick lady friend?  Shad thought he could be in and out before the old folks even knew he was there.  The last he heard, they were in a deep discussion.

             
Irene had helped Maggie into bed, and then Grandpa Gus had kicked Shad out of the living room so he could talk to Maggie’s aunt privately.  He wondered what he was telling her.  He didn’t know if Maggie had said anything on the way home; Grandpa had given Shad the keys to his old truck and told him to follow behind him and Maggie in the car.  Apparently, Gus hadn’t trusted Maggie to drive.  Under different circumstances, Shad would have been thrilled to drive solo, but the pleasure of the rare privilege had been ruined by his worry for Maggie.  He had stayed close to his grandpa and driven to Maggie’s without incident.  Not too bad for a fourteen-year-old.

             
He pushed Maggie’s bedroom door open very slowly and poked his head through the opening.  Maggie’s hair was tumbled across her pillows, and her eyes were closed.  She lay very still but Shad could tell she was faking it.

             
“Oh look!  I have found my Sleeping Beauty!”  Shad said in his most manly, Prince Charming voice.  He gave himself an English accent, too.  “I must kiss her sweet lips and awaken her from her deep, deep sleep.” 

             
Shad approached the bed.  Maggie didn’t even flinch.

             
“Here I come, sweet maiden.  I have slain the dragon and wish to take you from this cold, lonely tower.  Ahhhh, my princess! Your lips are as red as the rose, your skin as white as snow – actually I like my skin a little browner, but hey, you’re workin’ it – and your hair like the darkest ebony.”  Shad broke into a little imitation of Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder singing Ebony and Ivory as he leaned over his unresponsive audience.  He didn’t know very many of the words, so he resumed speaking in his princely voice.

             
“Here I go, fair lady!  Prince Shadrach will now lay a fiery kiss upon your soft lips….”  Shad got within an inch of Maggie’s mouth before her hand shot up and covered his puckered lips.

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