Specter~Chapter 7
Quinn's alarm buzzed at 7 a.m. She found and hit the snooze button a couple times before finally pulling herself from the bed and stretching. The room was still dark but not pitch-black like it had been at night. She pulled open the drapes and looked out at the already pretty day and the infinite blue of the ocean.
She wandered into the bathroom and got her shower going.
Even the shower is top-notch, she thought, letting the water spray down over her as she woke up. I could get used to this!
She stepped out of the shower to dry off and get dressed for the day. She automatically reached down to her right to pick up her brush to brush out her wet hair but her brush was not there.
I know I left it there last night, she thought, recalling brushing her hair out before bed. She looked at her confused expression in the mirror. She glanced down at the basin again and saw her brush to the left. She looked back to the mirror.
Odd…I know it was on the right…
She finished getting ready, thinking she just forgot where she put her hairbrush the night before, and went downstairs to the side foyer to disarm the security system a little before 8. She wandered through the kitchen quickly, entered the code to turn off security, then walked back into the kitchen…staring at the wide open basement door.
I know for sure I shut and locked it last night…definitely! she thought, going over to shut it again. She peeked down the stairs, no lights were on. She shook her head a bit, as if trying to clear her thoughts. She heard a car pull through the side drive, then another one, then car doors shutting and people laughing. Her day was about to begin.
xxxxx
"Mr. Figgins, may I have a moment, please?" Sam asked the spirit supervisor.
Figgins was floating above ruins in Pakistan, seemingly meditating on a large fluffy white cloud.
He popped open one eye to see who was speaking to him.
"Go ahead, my son," he replied finally.
Sam sat down next to him. "A girl I loved before I died seems to be alive again."
Figgins looked at him, fully interested now. "Explain more please."
"She died as an older woman; I watched her pass away. She never came back as a spirit so I guess she stayed in heaven. But, I've seen a human girl who looks just like her, acts just like her, sounds just like her…even has a mark in her right eye just like the girl I loved."
Figgins thought about this for a moment.
"She has not felt you, has she?" he asked.
Sam recalled the chill he had when she passed through him.
"I don't think so…" It was a little white lie, so what? "Why?"
"If you felt her and she felt your presence, there is a connection between you two…you could reveal yourself to her but that is very risky…"
"Reveal myself? Why would it be risky?" Sam asked.
"You could scare her to death, literally," Figgins told him. "Yes, you can reveal yourself to her but you'll have to figure out how to do that for yourself. It's different for every spirit who experiences a connection with one of the living."
Sam sat and considered this.
"How is it possible that she came back?" Sam asked Figgins.
"I've heard about a new program, called Rebirth. She might've taken part in that. The spirit signs a release to be born again as a human…"
Sam sat up straighter. "So it could be her then?"
"When the spirit signs the release to be reborn, they lose all memories of their past life…" Figgins continued. "So, even if it is her, she wouldn't remember you."
"Oh…" Sam's shoulders slumped again. "I see."
xxxxx
"So, what're ya gonna do?" Finn asked him. Sam had just explained what Figgins had told him.
He shrugged. "I just don't know. If it is her she won't remember me. If I reveal myself to her…and I don't know how to even do that…it might scare her to death, he said."
Finn let out a low whistle. "Wow…that would be bad."
If a spirit caused a death via haunting, be it intentionally or accidentally, they were sent directly to hell.
"Well, Figgins asked me if she felt me and I said no…" Sam said and stopped.
"She did though and so did you…"
"Figgins said there might be a connection between us if she felt my presence…maybe she would remember me…" Sam said.
"Ohhh…" Finn said, then looked at him. "Wait…you're gonna try, aren't you?"
"If she is Lucinda, I need to try…" Sam said, poofing away.
xxxxx
"Any issues last night?" Emma asked her.
Quinn smiled. "None at all. That bed is heavenly!"
"Oh yes…it should be…custom made and all. Will said he'd make us omelets this morning, if that sounds okay," she said.
"Sounds perfect!"
After breakfast, Quinn and Emma got to work, bringing up several boxes and getting them cataloged. It was mostly people who stayed there the earliest, dating around the 1870s. As they went through the belongings, Quinn kept a list of names of people she planned on researching at the library over the weekend. Sometimes, it was hard to not get caught up in reading the letters of the time or examining old pictures. Finally, they got into a rhythm and moved through things quickly, only sharing things they found interesting to the history of the estate, such as pictures taken on the grounds.
By lunchtime, they had been through several boxes from the basement and were excited when they started moving further ahead in time. It was steady work until suppertime when Will told them it was time for a break. He was right, Quinn thought, her eyes were crossing from entering data and searching through boxes.
He had grilled chicken outside, so they took supper on the back patio enjoying the late spring day.
"I think I might walk around the grounds a bit this evening to take pictures," Quinn told them.
"There are so many beautiful flower gardens and picturesque scenes, definitely go to the bluff and take pictures of the ocean…it's beautiful at sunset," Emma told her.
"I think I shall," Quinn replied, feeling slightly like royalty with the china and crystal before her.
After supper, Emma and Quinn straightened up the office while Will cleaned up the kitchen. Quinn switched out memory cards in her camera and slung the strap around her neck. As they left, she armed the estate and waved goodbye to Will and Emma and then began wandering around.
Emma was not lying about the flower gardens; they were exotic and full of color and life. Will did a great job caring for the plants, it was obvious. Quinn took many pictures of the flowers, finding her favorite honeysuckle, then turned her lens toward the actual estate. She wandered from the side to the back to the other side and then to the front, taking pictures at all different angles. Finally, she walked to the edge of the bluff that the home sat on and looked out to the ocean, watching the tide move rhythmically back and forth. Even though they told her that all the stones used on the house and grounds were taken from the rock outcroppings at the ocean's edge, she could still see tons of rocks down there. She took pictures of far-off yachts and the outlying forest surrounding the estate. She took pictures of the estate from the bluff, encompassing most of its land.
Sam followed her around, unbeknownst to her, watching her take photos. He decided to try something. Maybe the first time had just been a fluke of some sort, though it had never happened to him since becoming a spirit.
She was heading back toward the house as the sun was setting and the light was getting low. He stood at the side patio, directly in her path, and let her pass through him.
It happened again…the chill, the rush of nausea…she stopped as soon as she felt it and turned to see what she had walked through. It had been cold, just like at the office door. Her stomach lurched. The day was hot and humid, even at that hour, yet she had just walked through a cold pocket. He watched her reaction; he could see a bit of fear, a bit of confusion, a bit of unknowing what was going on. She turned and entered the code and ran inside.
xxxxx
Inside, she set the alarm and ran upstairs to the suite and locked herself in. She wasn't sure what to think. That was the second time she had felt the chill and the nausea…could it be coincidence?
"I'm just getting sick…that's all," she said, sighing, not wanting to come down with a cold at the beginning of her internship.
She turned on the TV for some background noise, then opened her laptop.
Santana had responded to her. Her fancy internship was actually crappy.
Sure they need my Spanish interpreting skills…so I can go down the street to the Mexican place and get their effing lunch! she had written to Quinn along with some Spanish curses.
Quinn giggled a bit but stopped herself; it's not nice to laugh at my friends, she thought, giggling again.
She next downloaded all her new pictures to her laptop to look at them again.
"That's odd…" she mumbled out loud. In most of the pictures she had taken there was a filmy area, almost smoke like, in different parts of the picture, as if someone was smoking a cigarette just outside the frame and she picked up their smoke. Not in all pictures, though. The ocean pictures were free of the strange pigment. She sighed. "I'll try again another day. Maybe have my camera looked at." She had taken pictures all day of possessions from the boxes and no pictures had the smoky area on them.
She got up and changed into some pajamas, then hopped back into bed to watch a little TV.
xxxxx
How can I test her knowledge of me? Sam thought, watching her go through her pictures, a worried expression on her face. He knew she was doing research with Emma so he floated off to the office to check it out.
He saw her list of names to research and was a bit shocked at how her handwriting even resembled Lucinda's, a very neat yet modern cursive.
He knew that they were pulling boxes from the basement…the basement!
He floated to the kitchen but this time just passed through the basement door. In the basement, he found Lucinda's trunk. He pushed it away from where it had sat since 1916, out where it would catch the girl's eye, hopefully prompting her to check it out.