Haunts

"You okay, 'Manda?" Carisi asks Rollins after the girl they had found in the "care" of her mother had been taken away by social services. "You seem shaken."

Rollins just nods and says, "Let's go, Carisi. I never want to come back to this island again."

"Copy that."

As they drive back from St. Simon's to Jekyll, Rollins sits in silent contemplation. Jill had been found locked in a closet with bruising and brush scrapes all over her legs consistent with being battered by a broom. She had been terrified and clung to Rollins until social services took her away. It just about broke her heart. But at least she was safe from her mom.

"Uncle Mickey told me that Mommy would never hurt me," she told Amanda. "He didn't believe me when I told her what she liked to do. All the mean stuff. He said she would never do things like that and that I was making it all up. Why did he say that?"

"Even some adults don't understand that their family members can be bad people, Jill." She had looked up at Carisi briefly, who was trying to hide an uncomfortable expression. "But it's okay now. We're all here because we believe you. Some of us came from New York, like you. Some are from right here. And some even came from Virginia. We all wanted to make sure you were safe."

Jill had smiled a bit and given her a tight hug.

"Hey Carisi?" she asks him.

"Yeah?"

"What made you uncomfortable about this case?"

"What do you mean?" he says, fussing with the steering wheel a bit. "Nothing did. I'm fine Rollins."

"Come on." Rollins calls his bluff. "I saw that look on your face when I was talking to Jill. Something I was telling her . . ."

"Come on, Rollins. You know how hard it is for me when I see family stuff like this. When it's such a close relative. . . I mean, I know it happens, but still . . ."

Rollins waits for him to continue through the silence.

"I . . . I just don't want it to be true. That family would treat each other that way." His left leg begins pumping up and down furiously and he bounces a fist on it. "And I'm not sure I would trust myself to do the right thing right away. For one, it would be so hard for me to believe it if one of my sisters was accused –"

"And you don't have to Carisi. Not right now," she interrupts him, noticing how fidgety he's gotten all of a sudden. She places a hand on his fist to stop it. She realizes they've both had a rough few work days coupled with poor nights' sleep. "Let's just focus on resting up before our flight tomorrow instead, okay?"

He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and nods. "Good idea."

Rollins gets bored and shuffles through some brochures she had taken back to her room detailing various things to do in the area.

Lighthouse Trolleys: Land & Sea Tours

"Hmm. . ." she picks up the phone on her nightstand and calls Carisi.

"Yeah?" he answers it.

"Carisi it's me. You up for a ghost tour tonight?"

"What?"

"A ghost tour. You game?"

"You're not talking about driving all the way to Savannah tonight, are you? I'm tired . . ."

"No, here. I found a brochure for local ghost tours. Looks like there's one right here and one on St. Simon's tonight."

"Are you shitting me Rollins?" He chuckles. "I told you this place was haunted."

"And when exactly did you tell me that?" she challenges.

"Oh, never mind," he says. "Sure, I'll go with you. But I just wanted to let you know . . . just because I watch hokey reality TV with you, it doesn't mean I believe in any hokey ghosts."

"'Hokey ghosts'?" Rollins asks. "Did I just hear you use those two words in a sentence?"

"All I'm saying is, don't fall for any of this stuff like you do with your reality TV –"

"I don-" she starts to protest before he cuts her off.

"People don't come back to this Earth to re-live, fix, or finish things they left undone while they were here, Rollins. They work that stuff out in Purgatory. When they're gone, they're gone."

"Each to their own beliefs then."

They're heading to St. Simon's Island, the place Rollins had just sworn she didn't want to return to, because the ghost tour on Jekyll Island was sold out for the night. Carisi should have teased her about her change of heart but instead he'd been glum. About halfway there, after they've sat in near silence for a good twelve minutes, she finds she has to ask.

"Carisi, what's wrong?"

"I got a phone call after you hung up."

"And?"

"My aunt passed."

"Oh, Sonny, no. I'm sorry." She reaches out for his hand and he takes it. "You should have told me. We didn't need to do this tonight."

"Yeah, I think I kinda do, Amanda." He squeezes her hand a bit tighter. "I think it will help."

"I hope so. I know this has been on your mind a lot."

"Yeah."

Silence descends once again, but she's able to comfort him somewhat with his hand cradled in hers for the rest of the drive.

Their ghost tour host, Frank, is quite the thespian and Carisi quickly gets into the spirit of things and starts heckling him like the New Yorker he is.

"Hey, so this Wanderer?"

"Mary the Wanderer, yes?"

"How come she wanders in the woods if her tale of tragic love ended on the beach, huh? Tell me that." Rollins pokes him in the ribs. He looks at her briefly before turning back to their host with a challenge in his tone. "Doesn't make sense to me."

"Sorry, he's not from the South. He doesn't understand basic manners sometimes." Rollins says to Frank in apology.

"Hey, I've got manners, they're just not Southern." Carisi protests.

And elderly woman wearing a hat so ostentatious it should be reserved for Easter instead of being worn on a trolley tour in the dark of night turns back to face him and says with a rich Southern twang, "That's painfully obvious, darlin.'"

Later . . .

"Oooh . . . chains. Scary. Like chains come to life. C'mon I thought this was ghost tour!"

"Carisi!"

Later . . .

The trolley stops at the third most haunted lighthouse in the country and they all get off.

"With that kind of buildup this better be –" Carisi suddenly trips on the sidewalk. Rollins catches enough of his fall to prevent him from cracking his chin open but goes down herself, directly underneath him.

"Ooof."

Frank looks down at them and says, "Scary enough for you?"

They burst out laughing.

Carisi crawls off of Rollins, springs into a standing position, and holds out his hand to her. She takes it and they both brush themselves off. The elderly woman 'harrumphs,' crosses her arms, and shakes her head just watching them.

And Carisi's clumsiness doesn't end there - he accidentally sits on the woman's hat upon re-boarding the trolley. She is not amused.

"Now this tour doesn't go to the North part of the island –"

"Why not?" Carisi heckles once again from the back.

"Well . . ."

"Lemme guess. Cause it's too haunted?"

"Something like that . . . there are definitely some ghosts up there . . ."

All of the lights on the trolley go out and it slows to a stop as Frank spins a tale.

"There's a beautiful church up in the North part of this island called Christ Church. Some of you may have heard of it. . . . maybe even been there. Ever try to check out the cemetery at night?

. . . well, you won't likely see much today – it's locked now at night and bright lights surround the church, but back in less . . . modern times . . . a light could be seen shining upon a headstone every night – as if a candle had been lit and placed at its base. But no source for the light could ever be found. And nothing could ever extinguish it . . .

Back before the civil war, it was told that a girl grew up here who was terrorized by her nanny. Poor thing . . . no one ever believed her . . ."

Ice shoots through Amanda's heart.

". . . and since her parents didn't believe the stories she told of her caretaker the abuse continued, unrelenting . . . The girl was routinely locked in the closet and became terrified of the dark. . ."

Sonny takes Amanda's hand just in time. The darkness of the trolley is starting to overwhelm her.

"Hey, it's okay," he whispers as he strokes the top of her hand.

". . . The girl grew into a woman who finally escaped her tormentor when she married a man who also lived here on St. Simon's. On the North end. He knew of her terror and made sure to keep candles burning brightly throughout the night for her. . . "

". . . As y'all likely know this part of the country had been prone to outbreaks of Yellow Fever about that time. St. Simon's wasn't spared. The woman contracted it and her worst fear was realized . . . she started to go blind."

Sonny gulps and grips the hand he had been holding. Hard. Amanda jerks her head towards him but cannot read his face in the darkness that encompasses it.

". . . And as she knew her final days were drawing to a close, she became horrified thinking of the darkness in the ground . . . the darkness she would be buried in."

Sonny and Amanda both shiver.

The lights on the trolley slowly come back on as it starts to inch forward. Now Amanda can see Sonny's face and he can see hers. Somehow, they know . . .

"Her husband lit a candle and placed it at her grave every night for as long as he lived. And even longer it seems . . ."

. . . the tale of undying love is somehow theirs.