Sheila Connolly - Relatively Dead 02 - Seeing the Dead (28 page)

Leslie closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them, without looking at either of them. “This is a lot to take in. I know you both believe what you’re saying. I know I’ve never had any experience with this kind of thing myself. And I know Ellie has always been, for want of a better word, different.”

“Different how?” Abby asked, wary of interrupting.

Leslie looked at her then. “Smart—that I expected. Very self-contained, even as a baby. She has a vocabulary far beyond her grade level. She reads all the time—when she isn’t disappearing somewhere. For a long time I figured it was just her IQ—I know smart kids can get frustrated in school, because the other kids are slower and just don’t get some things, or not quickly. She’s never had many friends, in day care or at school. A few, but she’s happy with her own company. But I never suspected anything like this. Who would? If it’s real, why doesn’t anybody ever talk about it?”

“You remember the Salem witch trials?” Ned volunteered.

“What, you think these days she’d be stoned as a witch? In second grade?”

“Stranger things happened back then,” Ned said. “Even if you discount ninety-eight percent of what was reported, there could still have been something real there. Something that went underground. People
couldn’t
talk about it, for their own protection.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re descended from any witches, either of you,” Leslie said. Abby wasn’t sure whether she was joking.

Better to get everything out in the open now. “I am,” Abby said. “At least, he was accused of witchcraft, and he died while awaiting trial. He came from Littleton. I only found out today. And I think Ellie is. Ned will have to answer for himself.”

Ned was now looking at her with a speculative gleam in his eye. “That could be important,” he said. “Who was it?”

“Not now, Ned,” Abby cut him off. She turned back to Leslie. “Ellie and I saw the same person—a girl about Ellie’s age—at the cemetery today. Her name was Hannah Perry, and Ellie has seen her before. Hannah’s a descendant of that accused witch, and so am I.” She shot a warning glance at Ned, hoping he’d keep quiet. Men weren’t so good at dealing with complex emotions like those Leslie must be wrestling with at the moment.

“What the hell do I do now?” Leslie said, almost to herself. “What do I tell Ellie? Or George? What about Peter? Does he have this thing too?”

“Neither of us has met Peter,” Abby told her. “But he’s younger. Let’s see if we can sort out Ellie first.”

Ellie chose that moment to emerge from the kitchen. Had she been listening? Did she have a clue about what was going on? “Hey, Mom?” she said, and Leslie almost jumped out of her skin.

“Hey, baby doll. What do you want?” Leslie said, putting on her mom face and her cheery mom voice, although Abby could hear the strain.

“Daddy said he’d go get pizza, if it’s okay with you.”

“Sure, that’s fine. You going to go with him?” Leslie said.

“Can I stay here with you?” Ellie met her gaze directly.

Leslie wavered. “Okay, I guess so. You tell Daddy I said yes, and then you can come back and talk with us.”

“Okay.” Ellie returned to the kitchen.

Leslie turned to Abby and Ned. “Just as well if George isn’t here, if we have to talk to Ellie now.”

“Leslie, I don’t want to rush things, if you can’t handle it,” Abby said. “But after today, and meeting Hannah, I don’t know how long this can wait.”

“It’s all right. I’ll go have a word with George.” Leslie stood up and fled to the kitchen.

Ned turned eagerly to Abby. “You both saw the same person? At the same time? And you can trace the relationship?”

“Yes, Ned, that’s what I said. To me, at least—I don’t have a link for Ellie yet, but what other conclusion is there? There’s something else too, but I’m not ready to get into that right now. It’s connected, but it can wait. What do you think we—all of us—should be doing for Ellie now?”

Ned was silent for a few moments. “I think we need to tell her what’s going on, at least a child-sized version. My mother didn’t know what she had, and neither did I, and I think both our lives would have been … easier if we’d known. Not necessarily happier, but maybe we could have handled things better. Do you agree?”

“Yes. Maybe I don’t have the right to say that, since I never noticed anything while I was growing up. But Ellie’s already realized that she’s different, and she’s going to have to learn to deal with that.”

Leslie came back, with Ellie trailing behind. “George said he had some errands to run, so he’ll be back in about an hour. He’s taking Petey with him. How do you want to do this?”

Abby caught Leslie’s eye and nodded at Ellie, who was staring at Ned with an odd expression on her face. Before anyone could stop her, she walked up to him and laid her hand on his cheek—and she broke out into a huge smile. “You see them too!” she crowed.

Leslie shook her head. “Here we go.”

28

Ned smiled back at Ellie, then glanced at Leslie. “Did you … ?”

Leslie shook her head. “Nope, not a word.”

Ned looked back at the child standing in front of him. “You’re right, Ellie: I see them. What do you call them?”

Ellie shrugged. “People.” Ned’s mouth twitched in a half smile. Ellie went on, “And you know Abby too, right?”

“I do, pretty well,” he said.

“And you want to talk now about seeing the people,” Ellie said.

Abby envied her the ability to come right to the point. Why did adults make things so complicated? “Do you know what ‘ghost’ means, Ellie?”

“Yeah, sure. That’s what other people call them,” she said matter-of-factly. “I know they’re dead. But part of them is still here.”

Abby sneaked a glance at Leslie and saw a hint of fear in her eyes. “Leslie, how long have you lived in this house?” Abby said, to try to dilute the tension.

“Since before Ellie was born. Why? There’s nobody here, is there?”

“No, Mommy, this house is too new,” Ellie said with scorn. “Nobody died here.”

Leslie didn’t look any happier after that comment.

“Ellie, when did you first see Hannah?” Abby asked.

“I dunno. I don’t remember. A while ago.”

Abby turned to look at Leslie. “Leslie, did you ever visit that cemetery? Take Ellie there? It’s not a long walk, as the crow flies.”

“I don’t think so. I mean, it’s not that I’m scared of the places, but I don’t see any reason to wander around them. Although I know plenty of genealogist types do. I just look at them as collections of documents that happen to be stone. Why does it matter? I mean, do you have to visit a cemetery to talk to these … people?”

“Yes, Mommy, you do,” Ellie said. “Hannah can’t leave there. And I kinda found the place by accident, when I was exploring.”

Abby shook her head. How had Ellie been drawn to the place? A topic for later. “Leslie, I’m still trying to work this out, but what we think at the moment is that people leave this residue or charge only in places or on things associated with intense emotion. Obviously dying fits, but it can also be joy or fear. It’s the strength of the emotion that matters.” Abby debated for a moment before asking the next question. “Ellie, do you know what it means to die?”

Ellie regarded her levelly. “Mommy says it means you go to heaven. Your body stops but your soul goes on, somewhere else. Is Hannah a soul?”

“Maybe. Tell us, can you talk to Hannah?”

“Nope.”

“Can you hear her thoughts?”

“That’s silly. How could I do that?”

“Ellie, I don’t really know. All I’m asking is, has she found a way to tell you something about her? Where she lived? Her family? How she died?”

Ellie shook her head. “Nope, she’s just there. Sometimes, not all the time. Is she ever going to get any older?”

“I don’t think so, Ellie. She’s the age she was when she stopped being alive.”

“Oh,” Ellie said, and apparently filed that thought away.

“Like Johnnie,” Ned said. “Ellie, I knew someone like that when I was about your age. He had lived in my house, but he died when he was about my age—or the age I was then. After a while, when I got older, I kind of pushed him out of my mind and forgot about him. But Abby’s seen him too. My mom and dad still live in that same house.”

“Did they see him?” Ellie asked.

“I think my mother knew he was there, but she never talked about him.”

Ellie turned to her mother. “Mommy, do you see anybody?”

“No, sweetie.”

Ellie turned back to Ned and Abby. “Can you teach her?”

Abby answered first. “I don’t think so, although we could try. But if she doesn’t have the same ancestors as any of us, I don’t think she could ever learn how. Maybe she could see different ancestors.”

“What’s an an-ces-tor?”

“You have grandparents, right?” When Ellie nodded, Abby went on, “Well, they had parents and grandparents, and those parents had parents, and so on, back a long long way. But they’re all related, kind of like in a straight line. I should show you a diagram if you want. A family tree chart.”

“Can we save that for later?” Leslie interrupted. “You’re saying I don’t have this … thing? What are you guys calling it?”

“We really haven’t decided,” Ned answered. “‘Seeing,’ most often, I guess. And you might have it—we can check your family tree. Maybe it’s in you but it’s dormant. Abby never had any experiences like this until very recently. It was kind of like a ‘perfect storm’ in her life, when everything fell apart at once. Like the combined stress broke through something. That’s how we met, the first time it happened to her.”

“Well, I think I’ve got the stress part right now,” Leslie said wryly. “Ellie, honey—how do you feel when you see these people? Scared?”

“Nope. Why would they scare me? They’re dead. They don’t have bodies anymore. They can’t do anything to me. And they’re glad to see me.”

“Apparently they get lonely,” Abby told Leslie. “It’s not like some giant crowd scene, wherever they are. The people stay near where they died, and they may not run into anyone else, even their families.”

“God, that’s sad,” Leslie said. “I guess we all kind of hope we’ll be reunited with our loved ones. Not true?”

“Leslie, we really don’t know,” Ned said. “We’re both kind of new at this. If there’s research that’s been done or is in progress, we haven’t had time to look for it. We’re just kind of bumbling along.”

“And seeing people,” Leslie finished. “Ellie, have you said anything to your friends at school?”

“Nope. They’d think I was weird.”

“So nobody else has mentioned ‘seeing’ anybody like you do?”

Ellie shook her head. “Uh-uh. Abby’s the first person I’ve met who knows what I mean.”

“You knew I was seeing them before I told you, Ellie,” Abby said. “And Ned too. How did you know?”

“I just kinda felt it. It’s hard to explain.”

Leslie sat back in her chair, looking drained. Which was better than angry, Abby thought. “What do I do now?” Leslie said softly, almost to herself.

“You don’t have to do anything right away,” Abby said. “Ellie’s been getting along fine with this. She knows better than to talk about it to other people, but I bet she’s glad you know now. Right, Ellie?”

“Yeah. I just figured it was better not to talk about it. But now I can talk with you, right, Mommy? Even though you don’t see them?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

“What about Daddy? He doesn’t see them.”

“Let me think about that, and talk to him first, okay? Normally I wouldn’t tell you to keep secrets from your daddy, but I need to figure out what the right thing to do is. Deal?”

“Okay,” Ellie said. “When’s he coming back? I’m hungry.”

“Soon, baby. Why don’t you go and get out paper plates and napkins and stuff? Put them on the kitchen counter so we’ll be ready when he gets here.”

“Sure.” Ellie bounced out of her chair and headed to the kitchen, but turned before she got there. “Are Ned and Abby staying too? I need to know how many plates.”

“Sorry, Ellie,” Abby said quickly, “but Ned and I have plans already. We can come back another time.” She hoped.

“So that’s four plates and four napkins, with extra ones for Petey.” Ellie skipped through the kitchen door.

“Well, she doesn’t seem traumatized by all this,” Leslie said.

“Why should she be?” Abby asked. “Apparently seeing the dead is a normal part of her life. I love her description—it’s like being dead means you don’t have a body anymore, and that’s all. As you said, Ellie seems fine with this, so far. Now that you know almost as much as we know, you can look out for her better. And Ned and I have only scratched the surface—we’re pretty sure there’s a lot more we can learn.”

“Whoever said that raising kids wasn’t easy didn’t know the half of it,” Leslie said. “I think you’re right, Abby—Ellie’s never been afraid of anything in her life, and she seems pretty well-adjusted, all things considered. But I need to wrap my head around this, and then I have to decide what to tell George, if anything, and then I have to look toward the future, when Ellie starts asking more questions about what’s going on, questions I can’t answer. You two are going to keep doing research, right?”

“Of course,” Ned said. “Leslie, I hope you know that we didn’t hide anything from you. When you and I were together, I thought all this was just my peculiar childish imagination, and I’d outgrown it, so there was nothing to tell. And then Abby kind of stumbled into it, and things kind of happened from there. It’s been only six months, and we’re finding out more all the time. So if you’re mad, please be mad about the situation, but not at us. We never meant to hurt you.”

Leslie raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Whatever. Let me nurse my mad along a little longer, and then I need time to think. But you’ve been fair and honest, and I’ll try to keep an open mind. That’s the best I can do for now.”

“That’s all we ask. Are you going to let us keep seeing Ellie?” Abby asked.

“That’s on my list of things to think about,” Leslie said. “I hadn’t planned on telling her about Ned until she was older, so I don’t know how all this fits. Give me time.”

“That’s fine,” Ned said, standing up. “Abby, we should go.”