Drawing Bloodlines (15 page)

There was a quick jolt in the plane and Nathan was shoved slightly forward after something pushed against his seat. “Pardon me, Nathan!” said a weary, but familiar voice. “I didn’t mean to….”

“It’s okay, Jonathan,” said Nathan, before he could finish. Nathan winced as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh, no, are you okay,” Jonathan asked. His glasses lay lopsided on his nose and he paused to fix them. “Did I hurt you?”

“Way to go, Jonathan,” teased Malick. “You don’t have to go around injuring people just because you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick,” snide Jonathan. Over his shoulder, he could hear snickering coming from Alan. Jonathan ran his hand across his shirt and fixed his posture. “It’s just a little motion sickness, that’s all.”

“Really, I’m okay,” said Nathan, looking up at him.

Malick turned around in his seat and sighed. “So, can we help you?” he asked, gawking at Jonathan. “No offense, but I really don’t like someone hovering over me — even if it’s just you.”

“Oh,” said Jonathan. He quickly kneeled down in front of Nathan and Nathan tried to move way, but his back was already pressed firmly against his seat. “I wanted to share with you what I learned while in the bathroom.”

“This should be interesting,” Malick chuckled.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “I was researching Grimm Cemetery on Google….”

“Wait,” interrupted Nathan. “Why are you researching Grimm Cemetery?”

“Wait, wait!” said Angela, springing out of her seat. She took Jonathan’s old spot and stood over Nathan; leaning against his seat. “I want to hear this too!”

“Hey, guys,” said Lafonda, in a groggy voice. “What’s going on?”

Angela turned around and smiled. “Hey, sleepy head,” she said. She lowered her voice after realizing that Leah was still asleep. “Jonathan’s just about to tell us what his found on Google. I’m sure it’s interesting.”

Lafonda stood up and leaned against Malick’s chair. “Oh….”

“Umm, Lafonda,” whispered Angela. “You might want to, ahh….” In a circular motion, she pointed to Lafonda’s face with her hand. “Touch up your make-up.”

Lafonda’s sleepy eyes suddenly had life in them. “Umm, Angela,” she said, while running her hands through her long dark straight hair. “I’m not wearing any.”

“Oh,” said Angela. She leaned in closer. “Never mind then.”

“What?” said Lafonda, dramatically, reaching for her bag. “Is there something wrong with my face?”

“Ugh, you guys!” moaned Nathan. “Must you do that here?” He turned around and looked at them. “This is an airplane, you know, and you crowding me is making me nervous. Aren’t all these people standing around like illegal or something?”

“Uhh, hmm, excuse me, ladies,” said the flight attendant, approaching them from the side. “And gentlemen.” She gave a quick smile to Malick and Malick
winked at her.

“Oh, brother,” sighed Lafonda,
laying her arms across her chest.

Unexpectedly, the flight attendant began to fidget with the pink scarf around her neck
and her red jacket, which matched her cheeks. “We’ll be landing shortly,” she said, poised and with a smile. “Can you ladies — and gentlemen — please take your seats?”

“Oh, no problem,” said Angela, forcing a smile. She stood in front of the flight attendant, bloc
king Malick’s view. “We were just wrapping up here. And I promise we’ll be sitting down pronto.”

“Oh — okay,” she said, fumbling with her uniform. She smiled weakly. “I’ll check back with you guys in a bit.”

“Thanks!” said Angela, with a fake smile and the flight attendant swiftly walked away. “Okay, Jonathan, hurry up and finish your story, so Ms. Mary Poppins doesn’t have a reason to come back here and play international love story.”

“Well, as I was saying,” said Jonathan. Nathan reluctan
tly plopped back against his chair. “I was in the bathroom and I figured since I might be in there for a while, I might as well do some light research.” Still perched at Nathan’s feet, he paused to look up at him. “Are you familiar with any of the Cahokia Falls urban legends? Particularly, the one about the lady in white?”

Nathan looked out the dark passenger window. He felt ill at ease because he could see by his r
eflection that everyone was staring at him. “Umm, yes, I think so,” he said, finally.

Jonathan smiled and then looked at him e
ncouragingly.

Pensively, Nathan continued to stare out the window. “Isn’t that the one if a woman buries her husband at Grimm Cemetery — the next day a lady in white will come and leave flowers on his grave or something?”

“Yeah, I think I’ve heard of that one,” said Angela. “One of my sorority sisters, Rebecca, is from Cahokia Falls and she said one year, her mom’s sister went to visit her husband’s grave on their wedding anniversary….” She paused; the plane was so quiet that she stopped to observe everyone’s faces. “Well, supposedly, she went back to the car to get the flowers she had left, to put them on the grave, and when she came back, there were white flowers already there; freaked — her — out!”

“I’ve heard similar stories,” said Lafonda, “But I thought the guy had to be a fallen hero or something. Or fallen in battle.” She stopped to look over her shoulder before moving closer to Angela. “They say it’s the ghost of an old Amer
ican Indian woman that lost her husband in a battle near Grimm Cemetery.” She shrugged. “I guess her grieving spirit is putting flowers on graves.”

“I think you guys are getting your urban legends mixed up,” said Jonathan with a smile. “You guys are actually quoting details from two separate urban legends.” His pier
cing blue eyes sparkled brightly beneath his glasses. “But Lafonda, you were almost spot on about the urban legend involving Grimm Cemetery.”

Lafonda smiled and Jonathan beamed, while adjusting his glasses. “See, according to the website,
An Illinois Haunting,”
he explained
.
“The woman in question is believed to be an 1800’s American Indian woman who lost her husband during a land dispute in the area that is now known as Grimm Cemetery. There are supposedly several eye-witness accounts and locals call her Wondering Lilly.”

“Okay,” said Angela, abruptly, “
now, that is just sad.” She placed her hand on her shoulder and shivered. “What’s up with all these people wondering around? First, the Fallen Ones toiling in darkness and now some poor old Indian woman.”

“How do you know she’s old?” interjected Malick, with a grin.

“Come on, really?” responded Angela. “Ghost or not, she’s from the 1800’s and that sounds old to me.”

Loudly, Jonathan cleared his throat and Angela mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.”

“But that’s not what intrigued me, though,” continued Jonathan. “What got my attention was when I read the urban legend about the lamenting woman in white.” He stopped to look at Nathan. “See, when you told me that Chief Rosales said this wasn’t the first time someone died out there involving Argus. I became curious. It really stuck with me.” He turned to address the group. “I started wondering — was Argus somehow involved or connected with Jonas’s father’s death, or possibly even the death of Leah’s roommate, Jamie? Or did someone else die out there?”

“Did you feel that!” asked Angela, abruptly. She placed her hand on her shoulder again. “I’m really sorry
, Jonathan, but I keep getting the….”

“Chills,” said Lafonda, rubbing her own arm.

“Yes!” said Angela, dramatically. “I thought it was just me.”

Lafonda and Angela both looked around for the source of the chills and noticed Leah sleeping. “Can somebody check and see if that girl has a pulse?” said Angela, in an obno
xious way.

“Angela!” cried Lafonda. “She’s just tired, that’s all. We were up late last night talking.” Angela stared blankly at her with an eyebrow raised. “Okay, okay, you got me, we were up late mostly because … she was helping me pack.”

“Lafonda!” blurted Nathan. “Are you serious?” He immediately leaned over the arm of his chair to look at Leah. She had her white jacket pulled over her like a blanket, while her head rested off to one side. Nathan also noticed the brown knitted bag securely tucked against her side. “Unbelievable, I can only imagine how tired she is — from packing your bags!”

“So,” said Jonathan, aloud. “I wanted to do some research and find out what Chief Rosales was talking about.”

Malick sighed. “Did it ever occur to you to just ask Chief Rosales or Argus?” he asked, mockingly. “And what does all this have to do with the other urban legend? The one about the woman in white?”

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “I was just getting to that,” he said. “Does Carrie E. Lynn ring a bell?” He paused and waited for a response. They all looked clueless. “She’s the reason why the area outside of Grimm Cemetery is called Lynn Field.”

“Wait, I know,” said Lafonda. “The school teacher.” Slowly, Jonathan nodded. “She died didn’t she?”

“Yes,” said Jonathan. “I have to do more r
esearch, check the Cahokia Falls Coroner's Inquest Records, but according to ‘
An Illinois Haunting
’, the night she died she was heartbroken. The night she died she discovered her husband was having an affair and ended up in a tragic car accident.” Jonathan paused, observing the shocked looks on their faces. Then slowly, he shook his head. “Supposedly, her ghost roams Lynn Field and cries when she comes across other lovers. Reports say if she gets close enough she tries to take the men for her own — terrifying witnesses!”

“Another tragic love story?” Angela sighed. She conti
nued to cradle her shoulder. “And jeez, talk about desperate. Don’t they have men on the other side?”

Lafonda laughed. “It’s just a story, Angela. None of these urban legends are real.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so certain,” said Jonathan. He turned to look at Malick. “The last time I heard a legend was ‘just’ a story, it turned out to be real.”

Malick’s lips were pursed tightly together as he rubbed the back of his neck. “And after what Nathan saw last night,” continued Jonathan, “I’d say we just met Carrie E. Lynn — our l
amenting lady in white.”

“What?” exclaimed Angela, her blue eyes wide with astonishment.

She turned to look at Alan across the aisle and, fervently, he shook his head. “I don’t even want to know,” he projected loudly. He continued to bury his head.

“So … you saw something last night?” said Lafonda, staring down on him.

All eyes were on Nathan as he swallowed dryly. “So are you saying that Argus had something to do with this woman’s death?”

“I don’t know,” said Jonathan. “So far, the only other death that I have found out there, besides Jonas’s dad and Leah’s old roommate,
is hers.”

Loudly, Lafonda sighed and then pursed her lips. “As usual, Jonathan knows already, but let me guess: Malick knows too?” Quickly, her eyes connected with Malick’s and when she turned to look at Nathan again, he frowned. “Whate
ver,” she shrugged, backing off slightly. “I’m done.”

“Ugh, Nathan!” groaned Angela. She gave Lafonda a sympathetic nudge. “What did you see last night?”

Reluctantly, Nathan scooted from the back of his chair and glanced up at Angela and Lafonda. “Last night — soon after I arrived to Lynn Field — I thought I heard something: a woman crying.” Abruptly, the plane jolted in the air again and Jonathan held tightly to the arm of Nathan’s seat. “I followed the sound into the forest — it was foggy — but I thought I saw someone … a woman.”

“A woman?” asked Angela, eagerly. “Like someone from the concert?”

With a blank look on his face, Nathan stared out beyond the dark passenger window. “No,” he said, slowly. “She wasn’t from the concert.” He looked down at Jonathan; his face was pale, almost sickly. “I can still see her white dress flowing vividly in my mind and her beady red eyes staring back at me.”

“Oh my God, one more thing!” said Angela, abruptly. “One more thing in th
at little town and I–am–going–to–scream!”

“It’s not that serious,” chucked Malick. “So, Nathan saw something in the forest, big deal. We’re not even sure what he saw.”

“And with everything happening in that town, you’re going to say he didn’t?” shouted Angela. “It’s not like she’s going to be walking around Cahokia Falls with a sign on her back: ‘Look, I’m the white lady’.”

“Lady in white,” chucked Malick.

“Whatever,” groaned Angela. “You know what I mean.”

U
nconsciously, Nathan shook his head. “By the way,” he said, looking down at Jonathan. “All of this has me thinking … does anyone know why it’s called Grimm Cemetery? I’ve lived there all my life and haven’t got a clue why.”

There was another sudden jerk in the plane’s altitude and Jonathan was quick to his feet. “I don’t know,” he said, has
tily. “It hasn’t come up in my research yet.”

Nathan and the others watched as Jonathan ran toward the bathroom. “So … I don’t mean to interrupt our little Scooby session,” said Malick, with a grin. He gestured t
oward the passenger window with his head. “But as you can see from the approaching lights, we are about to fly over London.”