Page 50 of Ghostly
“It’s not a good environment for Jamie!”
“He’s a child. Children are afraid of monsters. It’s normal.”
Jacinda pouted.
“We’re done discussing this.” Harry turned to the side and hugged the pillow. After a while, Jacinda took the hint and went to sleep. Fifteen minutes more, and her grating snoring filled the bedroom.
But Harry hadn’t fallen asleep yet. From her position by the window, Ida could see the slight shine in his eyes—they were open.
“She wouldn’t let us leave, anyway,” he murmured.
1917
Ida bit her nails, staring at the phone that graced a new console table in the drawing room. The phone itself, a box with a brass finish and a rotary dial and a clunky handset on top, was a new acquisition, too. Jacinda was so proud of it that it had to be installed in the drawing room instead of the hallway, so the guests visiting could admire it.
If there were any guests to speak of.
New technology meant new challenges for Ida’s abilities, and new opportunities to mess with Jacinda. Ida would love to say her sister-in-law had suffered enough, but then, Ida would’ve also loved to still be alive.
She closed her eyes, concentrated, and flicked into the phone. The last time she’d haunted the phone when a call came in, she remembered the circuit that pulsated, and she triggered it now. The phone rang, the slightly muted sounds reverberating through her.
Jacinda was in the kitchen, so she should hear it. Ida continued to ring until a click came through, and then Jacinda’s voice, “Hello?”
Time for part two.
Ida flashed back to Jamie’s goodbye two years ago—the last image of him, standing on the porch, his words, but most importantly, his voice.Focus on the voice.
“Mother?” Ida pushed the word out, and, even if raspy, it came through the handset sounding very much like a young man’s voice.
“Jamie?” Jacinda whimpered. “Oh, darling. I’m so glad you called. I’ve missed you. We both did. Hang on for a moment—I’ll fetch your father!”
No, no, no, don’t leave.This was meant for Jacinda. Ida flashed further back to a younger Jamie.
“Mommy?” The voice was that of a child. “Mommy, the monsters are back.”
Stunned silence on the other end—and then a click. Ida flew out of the phone.
Jacinda stood by the console table, hugging her middle, hair flying out of her voluminous bun as she wildly shook her head.
Ida focused harder and tapped into the phone, releasing a slew of mangled words, switching between a child and a young man’s voice. “Don’t leave me, Mommy—I don’t care about you or this damn house, I’m leaving!—Mommy, Mommy—”
“No. No.” Jacinda slammed the handset back on its holder. “It’s not real. He’s not real. This is all a dream.”
“No, Mommy,” the tiny, but frighteningly calm voice came out of the handset. “This is a nightmare.”
Jacinda ran out of the drawing room. Ida had considered bolting the front door, but she’d let her have this one—Jacinda would be back, anyway. Besides, the whole endeavor had weakened Ida. She floated to the deer statue, feeling light enough to be swept away by a breeze as she flicked into it. The dark corner of her soul that used to thrive whenever she causeddistress to her family members hadn’t felt the same lately. It was like having too much of a favorite dish and getting sick of it—only Ida knew of no other dish to sate her hunger, and sometimes, she wasn’t even certain she stillwashungry.
But if she wasn’t, if she had punished her family enough, why was she still here?
1939
Harry sat in the rocking chair, his old body hunched over as his eyes looked through the window into the backyard, not truly seeing. They’d grown paler over the years; Harry himself had paled, diminished. Only a light white fluff remained of his once thick auburn hair—just like Ida’s—and time etched hundreds and hundreds of wrinkles into his skin, like tiny rivers carving the surface of the Earth.
“Won’t be long now, Harry.” Ida kneeled beside him. If he could feel her presence, he didn’t show it. Harry didn’t show much of anything these days: just stared at the garden that used to be her pride and joy but was now turning into a jungle of overgrown bushes, and dutifully made a few sips and swallows when the nursemaid brought him his meals of bread, jelly, and milk.
“I wonder what’s going on in that head of yours. I suppose I’ll find out soon.” Did he ever think of her anymore? If he did, he’d stopped voicing those thoughts many years ago.
The sky slowly grew dark as the sun set on the other side of the house. Something intangible, unseen changed in the air—like an energy wasbuilding up, about to release. Harry gasped, but didn’t move. His eyes grew soft, watery, and then drifted close as his head fell on his chest.
