Revealing the Dead Read online

  “Not about you, but maybe about the whole phenomenon.” Carolyn stood up abruptly. “I’ve got a school to run, and it’s a short day. You’ve given me a lot to think about, but let’s talk on Monday. But for right now, don’t try to talk to Alice, okay?”

  “I understand. I can go home now, if you want.”

  “No, it’s all right if you stay. People might think it odd if you didn’t stick around for the rest of the day. But if anyone asks you what happened with Alice, please say you don’t know.”

  “That’s not a problem, because I really don’t know what happened.”

  “Good. So, what haven’t you seen. A music class? We don’t usually schedule the more difficult classes on short days, but it might be interesting for you. And Abby? Thank you for explaining. You probably could have said to me that you didn’t know what happened between you and Alice, and part of me would have accepted that and moved on. I appreciate your honesty.”

  “I’m glad you understand, and that you’ll give me some space. If I don’t see you again today, have a good Thanksgiving.”

  “And you too. I’ll walk you to the next class.”

  Chapter 24

  Wednesday

  While the children were turned over to their waiting parents or caregivers at noon, Abby waited until the traffic cleared and then started for home. Like Carolyn, she too needed time to think about what they’d discussed. Funny that Carolyn had brought up Salem, although that reference probably popped into the head of a lot of people, but always in reference to “witches,” conveniently ignoring the fact that even the people of Salem had recognized that there was no witchcraft involved in what had happened there. Enough people had been so ashamed of the deaths they’d caused that they buried the sorry tale as much as they could. It hadn’t worked: people were still talking about it.

  One point was very clear to Abby: people were frightened of what they couldn’t understand, and that fright made them angry and often they lashed out. Which was why psychics and their ilk had to hide in the shadows, and had to swallow any response when they were called fakers. She knew the reality of it, but she wasn’t about to go out and form a PAC and lobby for psychics. Although, she thought irreverently, their diverse talents might come in handy in current politics.

  She arrived home quickly, and when Abby opened the front door, Ellie came bounding down the hall to greet her. “Ned said you got a job?” she asked without preamble.

  “Maybe—we’re doing a sort of tryout for it.”

  “Where?”

  “At the Birch School, a few blocks from here.”

  “That’s the place for people like Danny?”

  Ellie knew the place? Abby had to wonder why. “Yes. It’s for children with autism. How is Danny? Is he settling in well?”

  Ellie shrugged. “I dunno. He doesn’t talk much, but he doesn’t have a lot of friends to talk to.”

  Poor Danny. Abby wondered what the whole story was. Where had he been schooled before? Had someone recommended that he be mainstreamed in a public school for his own benefit, or couldn’t his mother, Samantha, afford a private school? Abby made a mental note to investigate what scholarships or subsidies were available for people with his challenges.

  She realized Ellie was waiting for her to say something. “What have you and your dad been doing this week?”

  “We read some, and watch movies. Sometimes we play cards or do puzzles. But Petey’s kind of young for that kind of stuff, and if you don’t watch him, he gets into things.”

  “Who’s looking after him now?”

  “He’s at a friend’s house—a kid from his preschool. His mom’s home with them. Things sure take a lot of planning when you have kids!”

  “That’s true. I’m glad you could come over today, though. Have you had lunch yet?”

  Ned emerged from the kitchen. “No, we have not. I was just thinking about making something. How about a pizza?”

  “Ned, people don’t make pizzas,” Ellie said with contempt, “restaurants and places like that make pizzas. Or big companies. Or you buy it frozen in a box at the supermarket.”

  “And where do you think pizzas come from? Are they like eggs that hatch?” Ned was grinning at her.

  “No, that’s dumb,” Ellie told him firmly. “Chickens are alive. Pizza isn’t.”

  “Well, I vote that we make our own pizza for lunch. Do you know what goes into it?”

  Ellie actually looked kind of intrigued, and followed Ned toward the kitchen. The next thing Abby heard was Ned’s question, “Do you know what yeast is?”

  She followed more slowly, enjoying simply watching the two of them together. What she saw was almost the best of all possible worlds for teaching: patient instruction from somebody who knew you and wanted you to understand, plus learning a useful skill—cooking—that would stand Ellie in good stead. It could create problems with Leslie, who had a full-time job and two kids and probably didn’t have much time to make pizza from scratch. But Abby wasn’t about to call a halt to this impromptu learning experience. Maybe Ellie could show Leslie how to do it.

  An hour and a half later they were seated around the kitchen table consuming the final product, which Abby had to admit tasted pretty good. Ned must have done this before, which might explain why they’d had all the ingredients on hand. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever bought yeast. When their plates were empty, Ellie said, “What are we going to do next?”

  Before Abby could comment, Ned said, “Clean up. Never leave a messy kitchen—the dirty dishes might multiply and take over while you’re not looking.”

  “That’s silly.”

  “Yes, but doing the dishes—or the laundry or the vacuuming—is going to be part of your life for a very long time, so you might as well learn now. And you can help your mother out too—I bet she’d love that.” Ned stood up. “Come on, I’ll help. It goes faster with two people.”

  “Okay,” Ellie said and took her plate over to the sink. Ned looked at Abby and winked.

  The dishes were done quickly, as Ned had predicted. When Ned and Ellie were finished and had polished all the countertops, Ned looked at Abby and said, “Okay, your turn. What fabulous thing are you going to teach Ellie now? Origami? Needlepoint? Quantum mechanics?”

  Abby laughed. “Ned, I’m hopeless at all of those.”

  Ellie piped up, “We could work on the tiny closet. You know, the one under the stairs.”

  “We could,” Abby agreed. “What would you like to do with it?”

  “Well, it’s not very big. What kind of small things do you have that need a closet?”

  “Um, I hadn’t really thought about it. When I moved in and put things wherever there was room, and I haven’t moved anything since. How about games?”

  “Do you have games?” Ellie asked, looking dubious.

  “Well, some. And we can get more. Unless you only play with electronic games. Do you know how to play board games? Card games? Put together puzzles? Or we could keep art supplies in there—I know we have some of those. And I don’t mean wall paint and stuff like that.”

  Ellie nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. So we need shelves. Can you make shelves?”

  “You mean, without Ned? Sure. It’s not hard. But there are some pretty big holes in the walls and floor that Jack made when he took the old stuff out. We have to think about patching those before we can add anything new.”

  “I know there are some scraps of sheetrock in the basement, and plenty of patching plaster, so you can start on the those holes. And there are some old boards that are about the right size too,” Ned volunteered. “I can probably scrounge some stuff for brackets. There’s already light in there.”

  “Well, there we go! We’re building a games closet,” Abby said triumphantly.

  Once they’d located the recycled building materials, Abby noted that this was also a great teaching opportunity, although she didn’t mention that to Ellie. It would be useful to her throughout her life to know how to plan and m
easure, and to use basic tools like saws and screwdrivers and drills. Abby was pretty sure that Leslie had no time for projects like this. Did George? But she didn’t want to get into a discussion with Ellie about gender roles in a family. She herself held fond memories of borrowing her father’s tools, with his permission, and playing with nails and such, although she couldn’t recall ever finishing anything she had started.

  By the end of the afternoon they’d made a good start. First they’d measured—another good teaching opportunity—and decided on a layout, and now the shelves were cut, sanded, and ready for installation. Abby was proud that they’d found enough scraps to cover what they needed, and hadn’t had to go out and buy modern replacements. It seemed right to her to keep pieces of the old house in the house, and besides, the lumber was not warped, and was definitely thicker than modern stock. Then they started in on filling the roughly shaped holes.

  It was after five when Abby said, “We’d better wrap it up for today. Your mom will be here soon.”

  “Aw, I hoped we’d finish it today.”

  “We’re pretty close to finishing the walls. Besides, you’ll be back on Friday, right?”

  “Yeah, Mom and Dad are both working. And now you’re going to be working too. I won’t get to see you as much.”

  “Don’t worry—I promise we’ll still have Thursdays. And you’re pretty busy after school most days anyway.”

  “I guess,” Ellie said, looking disappointed. “But we have fun, don’t we?”

  “We do,” Abby agreed. “Let’s stack up the tools and the scraps and then we can shut the door and forget about our closet until Friday, okay?”

  Leslie arrived shortly after they’d finished cleaning up. “I closed up early since there weren’t a lot of people around. You ready to go, pumpkin?” she asked Ellie.

  “Yeah. Let me get my coat.” Ellie headed for the kitchen, leaving Abby and Leslie alone together in a stilted silence. Abby said, “We’ve been doing carpentry this afternoon.”

  “That’s nice,” Leslie said vacantly. “Oh, right—I meant to thank you for sending those plumbers our way.”

  “George already did. I’m glad they worked out. They just happened to be here when we heard from you. It was Sarah who recommended them. Everything working again?”

  “Yes, it’s fine. Still kind of damp, though. What are they doing for you here?”

  “We decided to move the powder room to a space next to the laundry, behind the kitchen. More room all around. That left the old powder room under the stairs, which wasn’t original. That’s what Ellie and I were working on today—making it into a useful closet with shelves.”

  “Nice. Ellie?” Leslie called out. “Let’s get moving—I still need to make dinner.”

  Ellie emerged from the back, wearing her coat. “Hey, Mom, we made pizza for lunch! From ingredients, not a box!”

  “That sounds like fun. Come on, sweetie. Thanks again, Abby. We’ll drop her off here on Friday morning. Happy Thanksgiving!”

  “Same to you,” Abby said, to Leslie’s retreating back. No, their relationship still wasn’t exactly warm. Would it ever be? She wasn’t trying to fight Leslie for Ellie’s affection, but she and Ellie would always share a connection that Leslie would never have. She could see that Leslie might have trouble dealing with that, but she hoped time would help.

  Ned crept up from the basement. “Is the coast clear?” he asked in a stage whisper.

  “Yes, Leslie’s gone. You are such a chicken! You’ve known her for years—what’s changed?”

  “I want to keep seeing Ellie, which means I have to be very careful about what I say. I’m always afraid I’ll put my foot in my mouth.”

  “The story will all come out eventually. Can we sit down for a bit?”

  “Sure.” Ned dropped into a chair and waited until Abby followed suit. “Why?”

  “Something happened at the school today.”

  “Good or bad?” Ned asked solicitously.

  “I’m not sure yet. I was waiting for the kids to go in after I got there, and I saw a girl trip and skin her knees. I went to help, so of course I ended up touching her, and I heard the word ‘Alice’ in my head. And then the girl said, ‘I’m Alice.’”

  “How was that odd?”

  “Because Carolyn took me aside after she’d patched up Alice and told me that Alice had never spoken before, or not that she’d heard.”

  “Wow. So of course she had to ask you about what happened.”

  Abby nodded. “Well, yes. And I ended up telling her most of the story—I mean, about seeing dead people, and why I wanted to find out if I could connect with the autistic children.”

  “How did she react?”

  “She was actually pretty cool about it. She wanted to take the weekend to think over what I’d told her, which I completely understand. And we talked about Christine. I really don’t know what Carolyn’s going to decide, but we said we’d talk on Monday.”

  “What would be the best-case outcome?” Ned asked.

  “I’m not really sure. It’s kind of a relief that she knows, because I hate hiding things, and this makes a pretty big secret to hide. But I’ll understand if she decides she and the school can’t handle it.”

  “I’m sorry, Abby. It’s a good idea, but it may not be easy to make happen.”

  “I know. And as for this afternoon, it was kind of nice, working with Ellie without dragging any of that stuff in,” Abby said. “She’s pretty good at building things. She’s careful, and she thinks through what the steps are. I hope we can get the new old closet finished on Friday. We can paint the whole thing once we put in the shelves.”

  “Oh, that reminds me—Jack and Bill called to say that they’ll be here on Friday,” Ned told her. “They’ve got all the appliances—all those holiday sales at the big box stores, right?—so they asked if they could go ahead with the installation. I told them that was fine. It is, isn’t it?”

  “I think so. Ellie and I can keep working in the hall, so we won’t be tripping all over each other. And she can watch them, if they don’t mind, and ask plumbing questions.”

  “Sounds like a fun day. Sorry I’ll miss it.”

  “I guess I should go think about dinner. By the way, your pizza idea was brilliant. Ellie gets to learn how to cook some basic stuff and have fun doing it. That’s the way it should be, right?”

  “Definitely.”

  Chapter 25

  Thursday (Thanksgiving)

  “It still seems wrong, not to be taking some food along. It’s a great tradition. Who else is going to be there?” Abby asked.

  “Mom and Dad, of course. Your parents aren’t coming, right?”

  “Nope, they’d already made plans when I asked them.”

  “Maybe next year, then. As for the rest, a couple of neighbors who’ve decided that since none of their offspring are around, they don’t feel like cooking a big meal. And probably some random strangers that Mom or Dad met somewhere and invited. When I was growing up, we never knew who we’d find around the table, but it’s kind of fun having a full house. After all, it was a feast centered on eating rather than patriotism or religion.”

  “A good point. Ned, have you seen Johnny lately?”

  “You mean my childhood friend Johnny? No, not since you and I saw him together that one time.”

  Abby wondered if Sarah had told Ned yet that she had seen Johnny too. “Do you ever feel him there, even if you don’t see him?” Abby pressed.

  “I don’t think so. You know I don’t spend a lot of time at the house, and I haven’t been looking for him. Why are you asking?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I’m kind of testing how our talents are working. We should be keeping some sort of journal, shouldn’t we? Because our story keeps changing. I’m sensing a lot more than I did in the beginning. You knew Johnny for years, until you shut him out. Think he’d answer again if you did go looking for him?”

  “I’m not even going to guess, although i
t’s a fair question. But I’d hate to treat him as some sort of trained dog, who shows up when I call.”

  “I know what you mean. It would be kind of rude. I wonder if Ellie would see him.”

  “She saw Hannah, who’s probably more closely related to her than Johnny. She doesn’t go hunting for the dead these days, does she?”

  “You’re asking me?” Abby said. “She knew about this before I did! And I think Hannah was the only one.”

  “So, did you get her started on this, or was it the other way around? You haven’t discussed it with her?”

  “No. She finds them, like that time in the Concord Cemetery. She was cautious about telling me because she didn’t know how I’d react. And she didn’t tell anyone about Hannah, in the beginning. On the other hand, she connected with Danny right away, and as far as we know he’s not a relative. But he’s not dead either.”

  Ned sighed. “This is not the way to conduct an experiment, even if it isn’t a scientific one. We need to share this information with each other, and record it.”

  “Sure, that’s a nice idea, but it’s so hard to keep things up to date. It could be an interesting spreadsheet, though. Person A saw Spirit X on this date and time. S/he also saw him/her and acknowledged his/her presence. Appearance? Et cetera. And the participants keep changing. I know we’ve added more people to our list, but it’s still only a handful—not a large enough sample, as you keep reminding me. And somehow I think holding meetings to chat about our psychic powers wouldn’t be the right approach. Isn’t that what they used to do around 1900?”

  “But remember, Abby, there were a lot of people then who believed in reincarnation or parallel planes or whatever they chose to call it, or who wanted to.”

  “Has your mother said anything about it lately?”

  “Nope. What about yours?”

  “No, but if I know my mother, she’s probably tackling this like any project. Like when she learned to knit. She wants to feel she’s got a handle on something before she goes public. Although I do hope she doesn’t start spreading it around once she feels comfortable with it.”