The Crimson Key (5 page)

“No, that’s not what it makes me think of. It makes me think of that day we got the tree,” I told him as I grabbed his hand. “That was an awesome day.” He smiled and we went to sit at our table in the cafeteria. To my surprise, Lynley was not sitting at the table waiting for us like usual. Instead, she was nowhere to be found.

As we drove home Ephraim talked about his day at school and how he had a hard time on his math test. I sat and listened even though my thoughts were on Lyn’s weird behavior. She was my best friend and I needed to find out what was going on with her. I owed her that much!

“You’re not listening to a word I am saying
, are you?” Ephraim asked, pulling me out of my trance.

“I’m sorry. I’m just worried about Lyn is all
,” I admitted. He gripped the steering wheel and his face grew heavy. He was worried about her, too. That was apparent. “Your mom sort of told her to stay away from me.” He pulled the truck into my yard and killed the engine.

“When did she say that?” he asked through clenched teeth.

I told him all about what I had overheard his mom say. It was something I hated doing. Ratting out someone’s mom wasn’t my forte. I needed him to know that she was a little less than nice to me as of late. Maybe I deserved it for getting them cursed. Maybe Lyn was right to stay away from me. I was delving into some dangerous ground involving myself in the Brown family curses and spirits. I never asked Lyn to be a part of it, though; she came along for the ride willingly.

“Brylee
, listen to me when I tell you that my mom is sort of crazy. You never did anything to hurt us and you shouldn’t listen to her. Lyn and I know she is full of crap when it comes to her opinions,” he assured me. “If Lyn is being weird just know that it will pass. It’s what she does.”

I took his advice with a grain of salt and kissed him good-bye. He had to work and I had studying to do. My finals were tomorrow and then the last day of school was the very next day. I was excited to end the junior year and to see Ephraim graduate this weekend
, but my heart ached when I thought about my impending trip back home to Cali. Opening the door, I found the house empty. Great, just me and the ghosts.

My mom was working and I would be alone for another few hours. She assured me she would be home in time to take me to my fake study date at the library. Until then I had just enough time to really study and try to contact this blonde ghost. After grabbing a soda from the fridge
, I headed upstairs. My room was cold and it felt great. The weather was getting warm and having a nice cool place to study was ideal. After a few minutes of reading through my study notes I was ready to jump out of my window and run away from my test tomorrow. I was doomed to fail. I didn’t understand why this was so hard for me. I have always been smart when it came to school, but lately it had been a real struggle. It might have been all the new stress in my life and maybe an added haunting or two. No matter the cause, I was sure to fail unless I figured out who this new ghost was. Was she the key to me finding out who the evil was in this house? Hala had told me evil resided here and that evil was a she. I had to find out who the person was and I had a feeling this new ghost was the way to find my answers.

Putting my books away
, I grabbed a flashlight to venture into the basement where I first saw her. If I didn’t find her in there I would look in the bathroom. She had to be here somewhere. Although finding ghost in my house lately was like finding a needle in a haystack. They didn’t just hide in certain places. Since they existed on a different plane than I did they weren’t always around. Some of them lived their lives here, like they were still living, and others knew they were dead. Once Violet had told me that sometimes they didn’t know they were dead, that they lived here like we did. And when I or my family did certain things, it upset them because they felt we were the intruders.

I went to the basement door
, half hoping she would be there and half hoping she wouldn’t. Sure I was brave, but let’s be honest, I didn’t like them anymore than anyone else did. I pushed open the door and the dust flew in my face. No one had come down here recently. That was apparent. I clicked on the flashlight and went in, shining it around to see if she was there. I walked down the stairs slowly, careful not to fall. I didn’t see her yet, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t here. She could show up at any moment. I glanced around for any signs of her but came up empty. I looked in the desk that sat in the corner, which was where I found all the old journals that Everett wrote, hoping to find something else of his. Unfortunately, all I found was old paperwork and photographs.

Deciding this was stupid
, I grabbed my flashlight. As I went up the stairs I saw a flash of white behind me. I froze on the second step. My hands shook and I tried to turn around, but fear kept me from moving. I felt a tug at my hair and I swallowed hard.

“Such lovely hair
,” she said. “Such a pity, my sister, that you do not take care of it. You know what mother always said … beauty is pain.”

“Who are you?” I asked as I got the strength to turn around and meet her face to face. She was beautiful; long
, flowing blonde hair and eyes as blue as the sky.

“You are not my sister
, who are you?” she growled. Her form shifted and jerked, causing her limbs to bend in awkward positions. Her neck fell back, making the sickening sound of bones cracking. Now it was hanging as if it was broken. Then her head rose so fast I jumped. Her eyes, once beautiful, were now black and glassy.

“Who sent you here? Was it the Browns? Those disgusting
, filthy creatures,” she spat as she followed me up the steps. I held onto the railing as I walked slowly backward.

“No one sent me
,” I croaked. “I came on my own to find out who you are.” Her head bent to the side, like a dog trying to understand a command.

“You’re lying! You know who I am and what they did to my sister! Get out of here before I rip all of your hair out!”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. Turning, I bolted from the room and slammed the door shut behind me. I fell to the living room floor as tears sprang from my eyes. She was not anything like the Browns. She had to be who Hala had spoken of, the evil in this house.

I stood up and took a few cleansing breaths to calm my now frazzled nerves. I hoped she didn’t decide to come out of the basement anytime soon. One thing I needed to look into tonight at the library was how to keep her in there.
A spirit like that shouldn’t be roaming around this house, free to frighten me when she wanted. I heard my mom’s car pull up and rushed up the stairs to put away the flashlight. I quickly changed my clothes and put the dusty one’s away. As I turned around, Violet stood in my doorway with a troubled look on her face.

“Violet
, you startled me,” I whispered.

“Brylee
, you looked scared downstairs. What happened?” Her concern was a total one-eighty from the lunatic in the basement.

“I ran into the resident scary ghost downstairs. That’s all.” She heard my words but shook her head. She didn’t understand. “The crazy blonde lady that goes around brushing her hair all the time.”

“I don’t know who you are talking about, Brylee. What does she look like?” I described her to Violet, sure she would know who this woman was. However, but she didn’t and only shook her head. I went on to tell her about our little discussion each time I encountered her.

“No one in our family fits that description
, Brylee. Are you certain that she said these things to you?” I nodded. She had called the Browns filthy and disgusting, and I found that odd.

“I’ll figure it out tonight
, Violet; I am off to the library.” I waved good-bye to her as she watched me leave.

On the drive to the library my mom talked about our trip back home. I stayed silent only because I didn’t want to say something smart-assed.

“We planned a day to have dinner with Ethan’s parents if that’s okay?” she asked. My head spun at the realization that I could possibly see him again. I did have the gift, as Hala had told me. Maybe I could see Ethan and hug him. Maybe I could help him move on and go wherever he was supposed to go.

“Yeah
, that’s fine by me.” It was more than fine.

We pulled up to the local library. It was the first trip I had ever had to a library. I loved to read
, but not as much as I loved to draw. This library was beautiful for such a small town. Its glass windows reflected the lake that sat across the street. As I got out of the car, I said, “So I guess two hours, Mom. Then I should be good.”

“Okay
, have fun,” she replied with a smile before speeding off. I walked into the building and entered through the main doors. The place was huge and had a homey feel. It smelled like books, which was a great thing. I went to the desk and was met with a smiling woman. Her name tag read Linda.

“I need a library card
,” I told her. She gave me the necessary paperwork and entered me in the system. Then she gave me the grand tour of the place.

“This is the teen reader section and fiction. Over here is non-fiction. And across from the computers is the children’s library.” She pointed to a colorful room.

“Where can I find old newspaper articles and town information? It’s for a school project,” I lied. She showed me a computer that sat at the far corner of the room. Perfect; nice and secluded. “Thank you.” She left me to my business as I went toward the computer. I noticed a few stray people standing in between the shelves reading books. Smiling politely, I sat down. I tugged my hoodie over my head, so no one would bother me, and started looking things up. Pearl had died sometime in the 1920s. I pulled up all articles from that time period, searching and reading every single obituary I could find until my eyes were almost bleeding. It was awful reading about all the young children who had died from the flu back then. Especially in our small town. 

Finally I found it. March 7
th
, 1926.

Pearl Elizabeth Brown

Born January 1
st
, 1916

Died March 7
th
, 1926

Pearl Elizabeth Brown died this past Thursday in her residence. The cause of death is influenza.

She is survived by her parents
, William and Violet Brown, her brother, Homer, and her sister, Edith. The funeral services will be held this Sunday at St. Augustine’s Church at 7 a.m.

It was awful to read. Tears filled my eyes as I remembered little Pearl and what she had gone through. She wasn’t even ten yet. I sat back
, unsure of what I was hoping to find by looking up her obituary. I had hoped for a link to the sisters. At least I knew the time era I was looking for. I clicked off her memorial and scanned the local papers for something to catch my attention. Soon my eyes were blurring as it all started to look the same. A cough behind me woke me up and I turned around. No one was there. I was alone and the lights were dim. “Hello?” I called out.

I went back to my computer and another page had come up all on its own. This was about an area fire that had taken several homes and a family. I read it
, hoping one of the sisters would somehow be mentioned, but they weren’t.

“Hey
, you.” I turned around fast at the words said just in my ear. Still no one. I had chills up my arms. Standing, I looked down the nearest aisle. It was empty. I was sure I had felt the words in my ear.

As I walked back to my computer
, I saw that a young girl sat in my chair looking at the article I had been reading.

“I wasn’t done using that computer
,” I informed her. She turned toward me and her face was badly burned and scarred. I felt instant grief for her pain.

“I know you weren’t done
, I was only reading. So you can hear and see me, huh?” she asked as she swirled around in the chair.

“What …” I started to say. Then I realized she was a ghost and had been claimed in the very fire I was reading about.

“Yes, I can see and hear you. I would love to be able to help you, but unfortunately I have my hands full already with a whole house of spirits,” I told her. She smiled and I instantly noticed her charred clothes. She stood and put her hands in the air.

“I’m only curious if you saw me
, that’s all. I’m not askin’ for any help.” Her accent wasn’t indicative of Jersey. She sounded more southern to me. “I just wanted to see who you was, that’s all.”

“Who are you?” I asked as I slowly walked toward the chair. She now stood next to the desk and I looked around. I didn’t want anyone thinking I was talking to myself.

“My name’s Angie Harris, I live here in this library. I have since that fire took me,” she said as she pointed to the article. “Anything you need you just let me know. I know everything that’s here in this here place. I have read just ‘bout every book.” It was a shot in the dark to ask her this, but I figured it could help.

“Do you know anything about the Barclay sisters?” She shook her head. Well at least I tried.