Night Journey (8 page)

The bride was a vision dressed in an elegant vintage gown of silk satin charmeuse. The halter wrap neck of the ivory wedding dress dipped low in front as well as in the back. It showcased her perfect form and revealed a tiny rose tattoo at the small of her back, near her slender waistline. The long bias cut skirt hugged her hips before flaring outward into a full flowing train. A pearl-encrusted snood held her long golden hair in a plump roll that brushed her shoulders and accented the seed-pearl choker at her throat. She smiled at the guests as she glided down the aisle on her father’s arm, clutching a silvery lavender rose bouquet.

“She looks absolutely incredible,” said Emma. “Where did she ever find such a gorgeous dress?”

Barbara leaned across Jonathan to reply to Emma’s remark. “Maureen told me she bought the dress from a vintage auction and that it was once worn by Jean Harlow.”

Emma’s eyes misted as she watched the simple yet elegant ceremony. With love in her eyes, she gazed at Zan standing next to his brother. She had never before seen Allen look so emotional. For the first time since she’d known him, he appeared quiet and awestruck.

Pastor Barnes conducted the service and the couple made their vows. Chief Whitefeather looked regal in his buckskin and beads and feathers. His poignant blessing, spoken in the
Pai
language, seemed dreamy and lyrical. Emma relaxed, watched his graceful symbolic gestures, and listened to the slow, musical chanting.
“… Apa—Pakri—Asitam.”

She bent toward her father-in-law and whispered. “What does that mean?”

“It means
man—woman—one
.”
A short time later the wedding party gathered for the reception at the Basin Park Hotel in downtown Eureka Springs. It wasn’t quite as old as the Crescent, but it also exuded an atmosphere of elegant by-gone times. Emma thought it was the perfect setting for a raucous celebration, with its fascinating history as a hangout for famous gangsters such as Bonnie and Clyde, Al Capone, and Pretty Boy Floyd, as well as its listing in Ripley’s Believe-it-or-Not for being the only building in the world with all eight floors on ground level.

“Woo hoo! Way to go, Moonbeam,” yelled Allen. He put his fingers in his mouth and whistled.

The wedding party clapped and cheered as the smiling bridesmaid triumphantly held the bouquet high above her head. Phoebe squealed with delight when she saw who had caught it. Chief Whitefeather’s eyes glittered, but his expression remained unchanged.

Emma laughed and took a bite of her cake. She glanced up through the glass ceiling of the Atrium. A silvery crescent moon peeked through the scudding clouds. The night sky filled her with a momentary, irrational feeling of sadness. The darkness pressed down on her, but she steeled herself and mentally pushed it back. She smiled at Zan and sipped her champagne. “Neat place for a reception.”

“Yeah. After that fancy wedding, it’s nice to go somewhere just to have fun,” replied Zan. “I’m itching for a game of pool in the Billiards Room. You want to play a game or two?”

“I don’t think so.” Emma lifted her feet and wriggled the red-soled
Christian Louboutin
pumps that peeked from beneath her floor-length skirt. “You guys can take off your jackets and roll up your sleeves, but we women still have these dresses and uncomfortable-yet-gorgeous shoes to get in the way—and I forgot to bring something to change into.”

“What’s everybody looking at over there?” Zan pointed to a group huddled around a table on the other side of the room.

“I don’t know. Let’s go see.”

Jonathan appeared worried and then smiled when he saw the couple approach. Emma sensed tension as she met the curious stares of the others. Something was wrong.

“What’s going on, Dad?” asked Zan.

Emma’s heart lurched when she saw the photographs spread out on the table. “Where did these come from?” She froze when she picked up the one on which everybody focused. Her heart pounded and blood slid through her veins like cold needles. She stared in bewilderment at the image of her and Zan seated at a table. A dark, cloudy mass hovered behind her head.

“I bought them at the front desk of the hotel this afternoon,” Jonathan replied, his face etched with concern. “They’re from the rehearsal dinner last night.”

“What in the world is that?” Zan indicated the dark spot on the picture.

“Looks like
Pigpen
and
Charlie Brown
to me,” Allen remarked with his usual droll wit.

“Allen—that’s not nice,” exclaimed Phoebe.

“Very funny, little brother. Like you’ve got room to talk,” replied Zan, pointing at the butter cream icing all over Allen’s shirt and vest from the wedding cake Phoebe had crammed into his mouth.

“I meant the little black cloud that always follows Pigpen around…you know, the
Peanuts
cartoon?” Allen saw that nobody was laughing. “Oh, never mind.”

“It’s just a flaw in the film.” Moonbeam waved her hand in dismissal. She met Phoebe’s eyes and shook her head.

“Oh, man,” Allen exclaimed and pointed at the picture. His eyes danced with mischief. “Remember what that lady on the ghost tour said last night? She said not to throw away the film if it had a flaw in it or you’d be throwing away a ghost. Remember? I think Emma’s got a ghost following her!”

Emma’s eyes widened. She remembered Moonbeam’s statement about the evil spirit’s aura hovering above her at the rehearsal dinner. Could it be an actual photograph of a ghost? Surely not the horrible nurse who haunted her dreams.

An awkward silence fell among the party. Emma noticed the embarrassment spread across Allen’s face when he realized he was the last one there to catch on. Everyone waited in silence to see how she would react.

Emma took a deep breath and composed herself. This was a party and she was determined not to cause a scene. She would not let this shake her. No more worrying about ghosts and nightmares. She pushed the memory of last night’s terrifying events out of her mind, turned to her father-in-law, and asked, “May I keep this one?”

“Of course you may, Emma,” replied Jonathan. “If anyone else wants one, please help yourselves.”

Zan seemed relieved she showed no more concern about the odd-looking photo. She straightened her posture and willed herself to be calm. She picked up a champagne glass and sipped. The tension in the room dissipated. The reception wound down and guests began trickling out of the hotel.

“Who wants to go upstairs to play some pool?” asked Allen.

“Wait a minute,” interrupted Phoebe, grabbing Allen’s hand and lowering her voice. “Don’t we need to make our big announcement before everybody leaves?”

“Oh, yeah.” Allen agreed and turned to Phoebe. “Ready? Drum roll please.”

Phoebe giggled and nodded, then together they stood before the waiting group of people. They held hands and smiled at each other before announcing in unison. “We’re pregnant!”

Emma’s breath caught and her body stiffened. She felt torn by conflicting emotions.
Why does Phoebe get a baby and I get haunted by an evil spirit?
A bitter jealousy stirred within her, followed by an agonizing stab of guilt. A burning sense of shame filled her heart when she saw everyone else laughing and congratulating the newlyweds for their joyous news.

What kind of horrible person was she? She glanced toward her husband and noticed him searching her face with a worried expression. She couldn’t let him know how deeply she had been wounded. She drew a deep breath, pasted a smile on her face, and joined in the celebration. Her heart ached and the beginnings of a headache germinated. Zan reached over and squeezed her hand.

“Our time will come, you know,” he whispered.

Emma nodded and clenched her jaw to stifle her emotions. She ached with an inner pain, but was determined not to let it show. The pain in her head grew stronger. A line formed to congratulate the newlyweds and she joined it, intent on proving her good will.

“Oh, honey. When’s the blessed event?” Barbara embraced Phoebe first and then Allen. Jonathan wiped away a tear and did the same.

“She’s just barely pregnant,” Allen said with obvious pride. “Not much more than a month. We only found out a few days ago.”

“Sydney, can you believe it? We’re going to be grandparents! This is such wonderful news.” Maureen Lowenstein grinned and hugged the newlyweds. “But Phoebe, how can you be sure this early?”

“Those test kits are extremely accurate, Mama,” Phoebe answered. “But we also had it confirmed with a blood test.”

The reception having ended, the rest of the guests made their goodbyes and began to leave. Those remaining started to migrate upstairs to the more casual atmosphere of the Billiards Room. Phoebe and Moonbeam disappeared to the ladies room to change out of their formal attire. Emma closed her eyes, rubbed her temples, and tried to mentally banish the streaks of light beginning to flash rapidly across her vision.

“What’s the matter, babe?” asked Zan, putting his arm around Emma and searching her face. “Are you getting one of your headaches?”

“I’m afraid so,” she replied. She winced when she felt the tension build, as if a tight band pressed relentlessly against her skull. The floaters increased their pace.

“Come on, sweetheart. I’ll take you back to the hotel.”

“No, you stay here with the others,” Emma protested. “Your Dad and Barbara are leaving now. I’ll ride back with them.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Zan. I’m just going to take a pill and go to sleep. There’s no reason why my migraine should ruin your fun.”

“Well, if you think you’ll be all right…”

Excruciating pain stabbed like a knife. She winced and put her hand to her head, wishing with all her heart he would go back with her. She really didn’t want to be alone…especially in that haunted place.

“I don’t see how I can leave you like this.” He put his hand under her chin and tilted her head toward him.

Her guilt overwhelmed her when she looked into his worried eyes. She had been nothing but a problem since they’d started on this trip. How did he manage to put up with her? She couldn’t stand the thought of ruining his time with his little brother on such an important occasion. Struggling to compose herself, she ignored the throbbing ache and her growing fear. She smiled and pretended.

“Please, honey. I’ll be okay. Your dad and Barbara will be at the hotel if I need anything.” Her mouth hurt with the strain of smiling. “Go have a good time with your brother.”

He wavered. “Okay. I won’t stay long…keep your cell phone turned on.”

“I will.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”
Nauseated by the pain in her head, Emma endured the short, winding ride up the side of the mountain in silence. She politely, but firmly, refused her step-mother-in-law’s offer to accompany her to her room and help her into bed. All she wanted to do was take her headache medicine and be alone.

Her hand trembled when she worked the lock on the door. Almost total darkness filled the room until she found the light switch in the parlor. The floor creaked and shadows danced in the corners. Her right foot throbbed from the pressure of her high heels. She limped to the bed and kicked off her shoes.

Emma’s head seemed to pound even harder and her hands shook as she strained to reach the zipper on her dress. Finally done, she tossed her clothing on a chair, too ill to hang them up. She reached into the suitcase, grabbed one of Zan’s tee shirts, and pulled it over her head.

She found the case containing her medication and carried it into the bathroom. Forgetting about the raised threshold between the two rooms, she tripped and almost fell, dropping the bag. Her right hand grabbed the pedestal sink and she stopped herself from falling.

When she was sure of her balance, she stooped to pick up the pouch and placed it on the edge of the sink. She fumbled with the cellophane that wrapped the glass. When it finally broke free, she turned on the faucet and filled the glass with water. She unzipped the bag and pulled out an orange plastic prescription bottle. Her fingers trembled as she tried to pull the cap off. Stupid child-proof lids. She squeezed the sides of the lid, struggling with it until she found the correct combination. After what seemed an eternity, the cap came free and she poured the contents into her right palm.