Midlife spirits comple.., p.55
midlife spirits - complete series, page 55
“Keep on rubbin’ that amethyst, honey,” Lovie said in her singsong voice as she continued to baste my face in oil that smelled like wet earth.
I’d momentarily forgotten about the chunk of amethyst which I was holding in my palm for the last, oh, twenty minutes, since I first sat down. Lovie advised me that rubbing it would also ward away any lingering spirits who might harm us. Meanwhile, a white candle burned from the top of a side table just beside Lovie. In voodoo, white candles were used when contacting departed souls. They were also used to purify and cleanse any ritual. Beside the white candle was a candle in the shape of a skull, also supposedly helpful when consulting the deceased.
“Now close your eyes, honey,” Lovie said. Her voice sounded so soothing, I suddenly felt tired. I closed my eyes as she placed her hand on top of my head. I wasn’t sure if it was merely the feel of her hand, or the magic emanating from her, but I instantly felt less afraid. A refreshing splash of calmness washed over me and my heartrate even slowed down and began to regulate. Yep, Lovie was definitely a powerful priestess.
But unfortunately, nowhere near as powerful as Guarda! my internal voice suddenly piped up. At the thought of Guarda, my stomach dropped and a sense of dread overcame me.
“Now envision openin’ the door to the other side,” Lovie instructed. “Allow yourself to communicate with the spirits, Peyton,” she continued.
This was the second time I’d experienced this form of visualization, and this time, it was much easier to do. I immediately pictured a door in front of me, with no walls holding it in place. It was just floating. I imagined it opening wide and beckoning me toward a vast stretch of darkness and space. In my imagination, I gripped both sides of the doorjamb before stepping through it. I instantly was surrounded by cold air—and I could feel goose bumps rising all over my skin.
“Are you in the spirit world, babydoll?” Lovie asked. I just nodded, shivering in spite of my efforts to remain calm.
“Very good, Peyton,” she said, and I sensed the smile in her voice. “Welcome the spirits, and let them know you want to invite them closer. Tell them you wish them no harm; an’, in turn, you will refuse to allow any deceitful spirits to contact you.”
I nodded and repeated her words to myself as I faced the black stretch of nothingness I saw beyond the open door in my mind.
“Once you’ve said all you need to, you may open your eyes,” Lovie finished.
I repeated the words in my head one more time, just in case some of the spirits might have missed them the first time around. Then I opened my eyes.
I instantly closed them and opened them again. I had to make sure the sight before me was really there and not just some odd fabrication of my mind. I was still in Peter’s house, but Peter and Christopher, who had been in front of me only seconds before, were now gone. They simply popped right out of existence. I glanced to my left, but didn’t see Ryan and, just as I began to suspect, Lovie was no longer sitting on my right side either.
“Guys?” I asked in a small voice. I focused on the couch beneath the window in front of me. It hadn’t been there a few minutes ago … Glancing down, I found myself still sitting on a sofa; however, it wasn’t the same one I was originally sitting on. Instead, it was upholstered in a dark green, scratchy fabric with loud, bright, white flowers that looked like magnolias. The couch was rectangular, like something straight out of the 1950s. A square coffee table sandwiched between the two couches also reiterated the 1950s’ theme.
This is normal, Peyton, I thought to myself while attempting to calm my frantic heart. Remember the LaLaurie House? When you made contact with the spirits there, you seemed to go back in time; remember? Everything around you appeared the way it would have when the spirits were still alive. Do you remember that?
I nodded to myself.
Well, this is no different! My internal voice of reason and logic continued to explain everything I was currently experiencing. You must have made contact with the spirit world. Now, you’re in Peter’s house, somewhere during the late 1950s.
Okay, I replied hastily. I had to figure out what to do next. Taking a deep breath, I stood up. The only difference between this vision and the one I experienced at the LaLaurie House was the lack of any spirits to tell me what the hell was going on.
Glancing around myself to make sure I was, in fact, alone, I eventually decided I was probably as alone as I could be. I took a few steps forward, and my legs felt wobbly. Glancing down, I noticed I was still dressed in the same outfit I was wearing a few minutes ago, which was oddly reassuring. I assumed that meant I was definitely caught up in a vision. I really hoped I hadn’t managed to inadvertently send myself back in time. The only other time in which I’d time-traveled, I’d arrived wearing a fashionable outfit for the time. Since I was still dressed in the same clothing I had on previously, that had to mean I hadn’t traveled back in time … right?
It still didn’t help that there were no spirits to be seen anywhere. That meant I was nowhere near figuring out what had happened to Adele. And, from what I could tell, this vacant house wasn’t going to offer me many clues.
Hmm, maybe Adele’s spirit is a little shyer than the ones I experienced at the LaLaurie House? I thought to myself, hoping that was the case. Maybe I need to seek her out; rather than vice versa?
As soon as I realized the only voice I could hear in my head was mine, I started to worry. Drake? I thought. Are you still around? Are you seeing any of this?
Getting no response, I figured the answer was negative. That morsel of information left me with a sense of abject loneliness that I couldn’t shake. Even though Drake was just a voice in my head, having his companionship for these sorts of things made me more comfortable. I didn’t feel as if I were ever truly alone.
What sounded like a whimper came from the rear of the house. Almost instantly, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Part of me demanded I follow the sound and investigate. Yet, another part of me insisted I stay firmly rooted exactly where I was.
You have to find out what the sound was, Peyton, I scolded my cowardly self. That’s the whole reason you came here in the first place!
Despite the blatant truth in my words, I didn’t feel any more eager to get on with the task at hand. The idea of walking in on the scene of a murder was daunting, to say the least. But I managed to muster up some residual willpower, and after taking a long, deep, reinforcing breath, I forced myself to step forward into the hallway off the living room, with no idea what awaited me.
It felt like ages before I finally managed to cross the living room and reach the hallway. When I eventually got there, I leaned heavily against the wall and took a series of deep breaths, if only to calm my sporadic heartbeat. I felt light-headed and dizzy. Pressing my hand on my forehead, the beads of perspiration made my palms clammy.
You can do this, Pey, I encouraged my lesser self before standing straight up and starting down the hallway. I didn’t fail to notice, or feel somewhat concerned, when the whimpering sound didn’t repeat itself. Now, it was eerily quiet in the house, and only the crunching of my feet on the carpet announced anyone’s presence.
Why can I hear my feet on the carpet if I’m in a trance state? I suddenly wondered, becoming slightly alarmed. Of course, I didn’t have the answer. The last time I entered a visionary state, back in the LaLaurie House, I merely existed like a ghost, visiting a time long past. I couldn’t interact with the scenery, much like it couldn’t interact with me. It was more like a movie playing around me.
Ignoring my thoughts, since they didn’t have any bearing on my current situation, I aimed for the end of the hallway, heading to where it T-boned into a bedroom, the door of which was closed. I fully intended to open the door, get the information I needed regarding Adele’s murder, and then break free of the trance. Easy-peasy. In and out.
When I got to the end of the hallway, I reached for the doorknob, but paused once I wrapped my palm around it. I recoiled at the icy coldness of the metal. I took that as another sign I was somehow interacting with my dream state, another uneasy omen.
Just turn the knob, Peyton, I ordered myself briskly.
But I remained frozen in place, my undeniable fear restraining me, holding me hopelessly captive.
Chapter Four
Open the door, Peyton! I frantically yelled at myself, my attention riveted on the doorknob which I still clutched in my palm. Maybe my internal voice was more forceful this time, or maybe my body suddenly got the program. Either way, I began rotating the doorknob before pushing the door open.
It felt like time stood still as I watched the door swinging slowly inward, revealing part of a bedroom. From where I was standing, I could make out the mint-green striped wallpaper, which matched the green carpeting and, somehow, coordinated with the peach ceiling. My vantage point did not allow me to see the entire room, only a yellow, square bedside table with thick, rectangular legs. There was a white and pink lamp atop it and a fake fichus tree on the side closest to me. To the right of the table was a queen-sized bed. I could only see the edge of the bed, but managed to detect a pink, green and yellow floral coverlet. The print matched the enormous bed skirt, which appeared to start from underneath the mattress before it cascaded in an array of ruffles all the way to the floor.
Remember what you’re here for, I curtly reminded myself as I instinctively began searching for blood splatters on the walls or any other clue that might hint to a murder most foul. Aside from the awful wallpaper, I didn’t see anything on the walls to indicate a struggle took place. I turned my gaze to the floor, where I imagined finding a pool of blood, ultimately leading to a lifeless body. But, nothing. Of course, from my current position, I couldn’t see the whole room, which meant it was quite possible that whatever I was looking for was still waiting to be found.
You have to walk into the room, Peyton! I yelled mentally at myself, growing angry that I was stalling so long. I was only making my job much harder. It was a far better plan to just get in and get out.
So get on with it! I gulped down my fear, suddenly wishing I had Drake’s calming voice inside my head to help me face my fears. Realizing I had no one to rely on but myself, I forced myself onward, beyond the entryway leading into the bedroom and straight into the room itself.
That was when I saw them.
There were two people on the bed, a man and a woman. Both of them were naked, and fully engaged in a serious session of lovemaking. My mouth dropped open in shock because it wasn’t every day that I casually strolled onto a scene of two people obviously engaged in what appeared to be a very fulfilling sexual tryst. The man was on top of the woman, and his stark white derriere greeted me as I faced them. The whiteness of his skin was made all the more evident by the darkness of the woman’s.
Suffice to say, I had a sneaking suspicion that whatever happened to Adele must have had something to do with jealousy and hurt feelings over what I imagined was an affair. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if this naked man could be Peter?
I wasn’t really sure what to do, so I just continued to stand there, awkwardly gaping at the vision. Now, the woman’s arms and legs were wrapped around the man’s middle. I felt completely embarrassed for standing here and watching something so private. I tried reminding myself that I was just a spectator in this situation and no one could see me. Nope. Still awkward. Something has to happen soon, I consoled myself as I wondered what exactly I was waiting for. And that being the case, it was simply a matter of waiting for that crucial moment to arrive. Then I could go back to Peter and explain what happened to his first wife. But speaking of Adele, I had no clue where she was. And then it dawned on me … maybe the woman on the bed was Adele? I wasn’t sure why, but I always assumed Adele was a white woman. I had no clue why I expected that, maybe because Peter was white, and from what I could remember, the fifties weren’t exactly as forward-thinking or as tolerant as the world currently was.
Ashamed for my stereotypical assumptions, I focused my attention back on the eager couple in front of me, waiting for the moment that I was here for—the murder. As the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes ticked by, I grew more concerned that the moment I anticipated wasn’t coming.
Maybe I should check out the rest of the house? I thought. Maybe whatever is supposed to happen won’t take place in the bedroom? Then I shook my head as I thought better of it. Of course it’s going to happen in the bedroom! It’s just a matter of someone walking in here and discovering what’s going on. So you’re just going to have to wait patiently until that happens …
I wasn’t prepared for the moment that the woman on the bed suddenly craned her neck to the side and looked right at me! I felt my mouth drop open as my heart stopped and my breath caught in my throat, my entire body going into shock. And the shock wasn’t due to the woman being able to see me, either. No, my shock was completely reserved for the fact that I recognized her.
Guarda?
As soon as that stunning revelation dawned on me, my heartbeat kicked into overdrive. My breathing was instantly reduced to short gasps and I felt like I could pass out. I opened my mouth as I took in frantic gulps of air, which only made me more light-headed. Still, Guarda continued to stare at me, making it feel like I really were standing right there in Peter’s bedroom, only sixty years earlier.
Guarda appeared much younger, and her flawless skin had yet to see a single wrinkle, while her dark brown hair lacked even a trace of grey. Her deep chocolate eyes would eventually be clouded by cataracts, but I had no doubt that this could be anyone else except Guarda.
I felt rooted in place as I watched Guarda studying me with her penetrating yet cold and soulless gaze. If her facial features hadn’t revealed her identity, the expression in her eyes would have. Her eyes really hadn’t changed; they were every bit as calculating as they always had been.
When she released her arms from around the man’s body, he didn’t seem to notice, and continued thrusting inside her, as if oblivious to anything else. She, meanwhile, didn’t seem to pay him any attention. No, her focus was exclusively fastened on me.
Her hands briefly disappeared from sight, but moments later, she brought them forward again, this time, clutching a candle in each palm. She held a red candle in the shape of a coiled snake in her left hand. I knew enough about voodoo by now to know that a snake candle was regularly used in spells for binding or controlling someone else. And the fact that the candle was red was not by chance either. Red candles were used to promote victory. Together, the color and shape of the candle suggested a clear attempt to control someone and be victorious.
In her other hand, Guarda held a silver candle shaped like the devil. This candle was meant to command someone’s lust. If the situation in front of me were any indication, the spell was obviously working. The silver color meant that Guarda was calling on the power of the moon for aid in her attempts to control this man’s body.
Neither candle was lit. I watched in awe as Guarda focused on each one, narrowing her eyes in obvious concentration. Suddenly, the wicks of both candles lit up in flames as if she’d just used an invisible match or lighter. I gasped as I half wondered if she might accidentally light the man’s hair on fire, given how close the candles were to his head.
Speaking of the man, whom I still had a sneaking suspicion was Peter, he didn’t seem to notice what Guarda was doing. Dutifully, he continued to drill her, looking forward so I couldn’t see his face. From the way he kept holding his head up, he seemed to be staring at the wall right above the square, yellow headboard. He didn’t move his neck or head even once, just continued his repetitive ministrations as if in a trance, which he very well might have been in.
My attention returned to Guarda as soon as she started chanting something. I couldn’t make out the words, and the longer I listened, the more I assumed she was speaking another language. Meanwhile, the candles continued to burn, and the wax started to drip down the sides of each candle until it pooled in the palms of her hands. The wax must have been scalding hot, but Guarda didn’t seem to notice the pain; or if she did, you couldn’t tell by her reaction, or lack thereof. Instead, she continued chanting while the candles burned. All the while, she stared at me as if she couldn’t break our eye contact.
As I looked on, she lifted the candles over the man’s back, tipping them slightly forward so all the molten wax dripped down onto his back. His skin immediately turned bright red as soon as the wax made contact with it. But he didn’t even flinch. He just continued having sex with Guarda as if he could do nothing else. Even as the wax dripped down his back, leaving inflamed, red skin in its wake, the man simply kept thrusting in and out of Guarda as if he served no other purpose.
Guarda continued to chant, her voice growing louder as the man’s thrusting grew stronger, then faster. When she began to scream her words, the man shoved himself deep inside her in repetitive, short spurts before going suddenly still. He was obviously having an orgasm. Seconds later, he released a pent-up sigh before pulling out of her and standing up. Once he was successfully disengaged from her, he continued to face her, standing rigidly still. She was no longer screaming the foreign, odd words she was previously, thank God.
She eyed the man for a split second, offering him a strange, little smile. Then the smile left her mouth as she faced me and her eyes narrowed. She released both of the still-burning candles. The devil candle dropped on the floor, and the wick immediately extinguished itself. The serpent candle fell on the bed, and I instantly feared it would light the linens on fire, but it, too, put itself out.
