Specter~Chapter 11
Her head still ached from the night before. What she felt at the pier had been so strong, so real, it had shaken her to her core. It was an intense sense of loss, she felt. And then the dreams, or nightmares maybe...had been vivid yet she couldn't put a finger on what was going on. Something drastic and urgent, it seemed. She had felt the coolness on her hand until she fell asleep...had the spirit been with her all night long?
She pulled herself from bed and got ready to set off on her journey for that day. Emma had told her the bicycle was in the garage so after a quick breakfast and loading her backpack, Quinn found herself pushing out a three-wheeled bike from the garage, complete with a basket on the back and a horn.
"Wow...this thing is probably as old as that Phantom..." she mumbled. She set the alarm, hopped on the bike, and pedaled off, finding it wasn't a bad ride at all.
She rode down the drive of the estate to the main road to town. She had checked the map before leaving so she could find the county road she was looking for. Once to the main road, she turned left, away from town, and pedaled to the next road. That was County Road 100 South. She turned right, westward, and pedaled along a little ways with forest on both sides of the road. She decided that with the thoughts she experienced the day before she was going to see if they returned on her trip today. She passed a few drives and then approached a drive on her right and suddenly thought they sure have let the weeds grow up!
She couldn't believe it. She stopped the bike at the end of the drive and looked down it.
It's been painted...I like the blue...She now just let the thoughts come to her. It was a fairly simple two-story farmhouse, now blue with dark blue shutters. A car was parked in the drive so she didn't venture any closer. A giant oak in the front yard, just off the road, caught her eye. Frannie and Bea loved to swing on that! She shook her head. How do I know these things?
It was beginning to freak her out, the strong feelings she had for this particular home, so she turned her bike around and headed back toward the main road, but not before snapping a couple pictures. Pedaling along, she avoided a large divot in the dirt road, almost as if she knew it were there. Sam nearly broke his ankle the time he fell in that hole! she thought. She had to stop the bike due to the overwhelming feeling of déjà vu. She closed her eyes and thought. He was walking me back home...it was dark and we forgot about that hole...he stepped in it and fell over, yelping, but hopped right up and was just fine...he had been holding my hand...
"This is crazy...I'm crazy...my mind is just...just...conjecturing all this up, from all the research..." she mumbled out loud to herself.
Sam, floating behind her, also remembered falling in that hole the summer of 1852. He managed to get her to her door and then limped home himself. He had to avoid her for the next week due to his sprain...he didn't want her to think he had actually hurt himself. Finn had teased him mercilessly about that for quite some time.
She began pedaling again and at the main road turned left and headed to Battenfield. Her next stop was the cemetery.
xxxxx
She rode the bike down Main Street to Carter where the library was, passed Carter and went two blocks to Henry, and turned right. The librarian had told her to go all the way until the road made a sharp left turn...the cemetery was at the curve, sitting on the bluff overlooking the ocean. She turned onto Henry Street and rode a few blocks until she saw the sharp left turn and the iron gates signifying the old cemetery. She parked her bike at the gate and put her camera around her neck and began exploring the headstones, mostly old but a few more recent ones.
It was a very serene quiet place, calming to her. A soft breeze danced around the old trees surrounding the place, making it very peaceful. She had honestly been worried about experiencing something here but found it surprisingly...restful.
The newer headstones were toward the front and east side of the cemetery. She was interested in the older ones, closer to the edge of the bluff, lining the iron gate there. As she stepped carefully through the headstones, now familiar names jumped out at her: Evans, Fabbrae, Abrams, Hudson, Berry...She wanted to know their stories...who were these people and how had they lived?
She stopped at one particular headstone under a giant fir tree. She brushed aside the stray pine needles and saw Lucinda Q Fabbrae carved on it. Only the years of birth and death were there, 1836-1916. She sat down on the ground and took pictures of the headstone.
I want to be placed next to Sam...the thought meandered through Quinn's mind. There were no headstones around Lucinda's. Quinn looked around closely and saw a very worn wooden cross lying amongst the forest debris, probably having fallen over from weather, next to Lucinda's headstone. She never forgot him, Quinn thought sadly. She picked up the cross and could barely make out the faint initials, S.F.E. 1852.
xxxxx
She sat there for some time...occasional thoughts flooding her mind. This time, though, she allowed them in, didn't try to fight them.
He said he'd marry me...I said I'd wait for him...I miss him dearly...maybe I should just join him in the afterlife...
The thoughts in her mind were in her voice but more and more she was convinced they were Lucinda's own thoughts somehow being channeled through her.
She thought about them, as youngsters, Sam clearly excited about going on the schooner, Lucinda missing him every single day for the rest of her life, even being buried next to him. She needed to know more about Lucinda.
Sam sat on the ground with Quinn as she pondered these things. He watched her intently, how beautiful she looked with bits of sunlight raining down through the trees, her golden hair nearly a halo. He could sense she really wasn't afraid anymore, now she wanted answers.
She didn't feel alone.
"Are you here with me now, Sam?" she asked the space next to her.
He ran a hand down her arm and watched her shiver from his touch. I am in spirit, Lucindy.
xxxxx
"I don't know what to do, Sam...please help me..." she whispered, the breeze picking up around her.
He wanted her to hear his voice, to see him, to touch him. He had to figure that out for himself though. He did feel that if he revealed himself to her she'd be less fearful now. He needed her to open Lucinda's trunk. Maybe that'd help.
He touched her hand, and she smiled.
"Thank you for being here with me," she said quietly.
She took some photos of their grave sites and other photos of headstones that caught her attention. She realized the sun had disappeared and the breeze was now cool. She looked up to the sky and saw heavy gray clouds moving in. She tucked her camera in her backpack and left quickly on the bicycle, speeding through Battenfield, trying to get to the estate before the deluge of rain poured down on her. For the first time in the since being at the estate, she felt at ease, lighthearted, happy. It was short-lived because as she rode the bike down the drive to the estate and made the curve to pull up alongside the house she saw a familiar car parked under the covered drive.
"Jesus Quinn! Where've you been? I'm about to piss all over those pretty flowers!" Noah barked impatiently, pointing at the honeysuckle she loved.
Sam was floating behind Quinn, of course, and immediately did not care for the energy this guy was putting off.
"Noah! I didn't expect you!" Quinn said, hopping off the bike and rushing to his arms. He hugged her only briefly.
"Seriously, Quinn, I'm 'bout to piss down my leg..." he said gruffly.
"Sure, c'mon," she said, punching in the code and letting them into the estate.
"Holy shit...this place is huge!" Noah said, following Quinn through the rooms. "Just think of the badass party we could throw here! And on the ocean too!"
She stopped at the powder room just off the grand foyer. "Um, no, Noah, no way."
She listened to him whistle in the bathroom, where he didn't even shut the door.
"I'll be in the kitchen, Noah," she called to him, a little sick of listening to him pee.
She could hear him wandering around, checking out the lower floor of the estate, while she prepared a lunch for them in the kitchen. He finally made his way back to her.
"How'd you find me?" she asked him.
"Santana told me...you've been staying here alone at night?" he asked her.
She nodded, smiling. "Yeah, it's actually pretty cozy."
"Really? Seems kinda freaky to me...have any boys over?" he asked, coming up behind her and grinding up against her backside.
She shoved him off playfully. "God no, Noah! This is like a job, you dumbass!"
Sam watched from across the kitchen, not liking this Noah guy at all.
"I've missed your sexy ass..." Noah mumbled. "But I've kept myself busy."
"Oh really?" Quinn asked, flipping some chicken on the indoor grill.
"You don't think I've been sitting around moping about you, have you?" He chuckle. "'Cause that sure ain't been happenin'!"
Noah was walking backward alongside the center island and Sam couldn't resist. He stuck his foot out, causing Noah to trip and fall on his ass on the kitchen floor.
"What the fuck?" he yelled from the floor, getting up quickly. "What the hell did I just trip over?"
Quinn looked over her shoulder with just the slightest of smirks on her face. Noah brushed off his jeans and did his coolest swagger back over to Quinn.
"So, what'd'ya say we blow off food for a little bit and go get ourselves horizontal?" he mumbled, nuzzling up against her neck.
"That's really going to have to wait, Noah. I'm starving and don't you wanna hear about what I've been learning?" she asked, getting a bit annoyed with him.
He sighed loudly and plopped down at the table in the kitchen. Sam sat down across from him.
He couldn't look more bored if he tried, Quinn thought. Noah began drumming his fingers on the table, looking around the kitchen, continuing to sigh.
Suddenly, Sam moved the salt shaker across the table. Noah stopped what he was doing, his mouth hanging open a bit.
"How'd you do that?" he asked Quinn.
"Do what?"
"Move the salt shaker..."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Noah," she replied, tossing a salad together.
He rolled his eyes. "Why do you always have to be such a bitch, Quinn?"
Anger flashed through Sam. He picked up the glass salt shaker and through it to the ground. Noah jumped up, knocking his chair over in the process. Quinn turned around quickly, forgetting the chicken.
"Noah!"
"What the fuck! I didn't do that!"
"Oh my god…are you for real?" Quinn rushed to the pantry to get a broom and dustpan. "Ugh! Now the chicken is burning!"
She shoved the broom and dustpan in Noah's hands and turned her attention to the grill. Noah looked at her in a state of shock.
"Sweep it up!" she nearly shrieked.
He jumped into action then, sweeping the mess into a pile, then squatting down with the dustpan.
Sam was enjoying this, not so much seeing Quinn upset but seeing this jerk out of his element. Floating behind Noah, Sam knocked the broom from his hands.
"Hey!" Noah said, standing up suddenly, not knowing he was nose-to-nose with Sam.
"What?" Quinn said, annoyed, trying to salvage the chicken.
"The broom! It just got knocked outta my hands!"
Quinn stopped what she was doing and turned to look at him.
"And the salt shaker! It moved on its own!"
"And threw itself on the floor on its own, Noah?" she asked.
"Yes!"
She rolled her eyes at him and turned back to the chicken. He finished sweeping up the salt mess and dumped it in the trash can. He took the broom and dustpan to the pantry where he had seen Quinn grab them. Sam followed close behind him.
Noah opened the door to the broom closet, and Sam pushed it shut.
"Wait…what?" Noah asked, confused.
He tried the door again and again it slammed shut on its own accord.
"Alright Quinn, what the hell is goin' on here?" Noah called to her.
She sighed in the kitchen. She pulled the chicken off the grill and went to deal with him. She found him by the broom closet, still holding the broom and dustpan.
"Really Noah?" she said, pulling both from him and putting them away. She stomped out to the kitchen.
"Sit down and tell me what you're talking about!"
He did as he was told.
"Okay, that is all coincidence," she told him, once hearing what happened to him. She knew in her heart that it wasn't coincidence. Someone was jealous. "You just need to calm down."
"Fine. Let's eat," he said, slumping in his chair.
She set down their salads and put the well-done chicken and sliced tomatoes on plates.
He looked at his meal. "Wow…great job on the chicken."
She poured them both some lemonade and didn't respond to his snarky comment.
He reached for the lemonade, at the same time Sam did, and suddenly the cold lemonade was pouring down him. He jumped up from his seat for the second time that afternoon.
"Okay! Okay! Did you just see that?" he shouted at Quinn.
She tried to hide the giggle. "It looks like you doused yourself with lemonade!"
"Oh my god!" he said, stalking off to the bathroom, mumbling to himself about how that was a new Aeropostale t-shirt and somebody was going to pay for it.
Sam decided he needed to step up his game to get this jerk to leave the estate.
While in the bathroom, rinsing off the lemonade, Noah looked at himself in the mirror. His Mohawk was a mess, his shirt was ruined, this was turning out to be a huge waste of his time.
"And to think I was plannin' on getting' laid…" he muttered.
The lights went off in the bathroom.
"Now what the fuck? Quinn!" he yelled. He tried the doorknob; nothing happened. It was pitch-black in the tiny bathroom. He flipped the light switch over and over; nothing happened.
Sam tried something he had never tried before, had never really wanted to try but had heard of other spirits doing it.
"Oooooooo…Oooooo…Oooooo…." He made his voice get higher in pitch with each 'ooo'.
Noah slammed up against the bathroom door, suddenly panicked.
"Oh my god…just let me outta here! What the hell is going on?" he cried.
Sam floated up next to Noah so that he could feel the cool drift.
Noah screamed like a little girl.
Quinn heard that and came running. She yanked open the bathroom door and Noah fell at her feet, immediately scrambling back up, clutching at her.
"Haunted…this place is haunted!" he cried in a high-pitched voice. "I'm getting' the fuck outta here!"
He took off, running for the kitchen. Quinn glanced quickly at the bathroom; the lights were on, nothing was amiss. She quickly followed him.
"Noah! Noah! Stop please! What're you talking about, haunted?" she called after him, catching up with him at his car.
"In the bathroom…I heard it…I felt it! If you're smart, you'll leave too!"
She laughed at him. "The estate is not haunted, silly! That was just my friend!"
He slammed his car door and peeled out of the drive. She watched with amusement as he tore down the drive and around the curve, then turned and went back inside the house, chuckling to herself.