The Ghost from the Sea (17 page)

B
ack and forth
—back and forth. She was in a swing. Danielle opened her eyes. No, she wasn't in a swing; she was sitting in a rocking chair.

“It's nice out here don't you think?” A soft accented voice came from Danielle's right—it was Emma Jackson. The centenarian sat in a rocking chair on the front porch of what appeared to be her Astoria home. Emma's chair was just a few feet from Danielle's. Smiling contently, Emma leaned back in the rocker. The lines once creasing her chocolate complexion blurred into a soft haze, the skin appearing younger as the moments lingered on.

“Emma?” Danielle said in surprise. She stopped rocking, and leaned out to touch Emma's arm.

Emma stilled her chair for a moment to give Danielle's hand a pat, and then resumed rocking. “Good to see you, child. They said you wouldn't be surprised with my visit. You know this isn't a regular dream, don't you?”

“It's a dream hop,” Danielle said in a quiet voice.

Emma laughed. “Is that what you call it? I used to call it my Emmett dreams.”

“Emmett? Your husband?”

Emma nodded. “After Emmett died, he'd visit me in my dreams. I always knew they weren't regular dreams. My Emmett was there to comfort me. He was a good man. I'll be joining him soon. But first, we've work to do.”

“Work? Why are you here?”

“I always knew there was something special about you. You've the gift. My mama had the gift, yes she did. I never did, aside from Emmett's visits.”

“You know I can see…and talk to…spirits?”

Emma nodded. “Yes. They're all in an uproar. Now that the Eva Aphrodite has resurfaced, they want the truth to come out.”

“They? Are you talking about the people who died on the boat?”

Emma shrugged. “That's who I figure they are. All yelling and shouting, wanting to be heard.”

“I saw them on the boat, down at the beach. They were standing on the top deck. I assumed that's who they were; I recognized several of them from photographs in the old newspaper articles. Why didn't they talk to me then?”

Emma shook her head. “They can't. They've all moved over to the other side, and can barely make themselves known to someone like you. Instead, they have to work through someone like me—a newly arrived spirit. And I can't move on until they've settled down.”

“So what do we have to do?”

“I was hoping you'd know that. It's nice to see you Danielle, but I want to move on and be with my Emmett; he's been waiting for me for such a long time.”

“
A
re
they giving you a message to pass onto me?” Danielle asked Emma's spirit.

“No, child. They're telling me to show you. But show you what? I don't know what they want.”

Danielle considered the possibilities and then asked, “This may seem obvious, but have you asked them what they want you to show me?”

Emma laughed. “Oh dear, if it were just that easy! No, they're not answering my questions. I just know they want me to show you something, and until I do, I'll be stuck here.”

Danielle stopped rocking and focused her attention on Emma. “If they're telling you to show me something, maybe it's something you saw, back then. Something they want me to see.”

Emma shook her head. “I don't know what that would be. I really didn't know any of those people.”

“But you knew about the Eva Aphrodite going down in the storm.”

“Sure, everyone knew about it. There were stories back then. How Walt would take those rich folks out to party or meet the big ship that came down from Canada. I can't remember none of those folks, the ones that died that night, ever coming into the Bluebell Diner. Aside from my work at the diner, I kept away from the white folks back then.”

“Maybe it was something you saw happen with Walt Marlow. I know you ran into him from time to time.”

Emma considered the question. Finally, she shook her head, “No, girl. I can't think of a single thing I ever saw Mr. Marlow do that'd shed light on any of this. From what I remember, he'd just come into the diner from time to time, was always polite.” Emma smiled softly. “I wonder if I'll get to see Mr. Marlow when I pass over. I'd like to tell him thank you.”

“Thank you? For what?”

“He was always very respectful when I waited on him. Treated me just like he treated the white waitresses. But, I'll tell you girl, some of those customers back then didn't treat the white girls much better. Plenty of the men who came into the Bluebell didn't think twice about giving one of the girls a smack on her backside. Felt it was their right. Mr. Marlow wasn't like that. No siree, he was a gentleman, that one.”

Danielle smiled. “I can see Walt being a gentleman.”

Emma arched her brows. “Walt?”

Danielle shrugged. “Walt is sorta haunting Marlow House. Has been since he was killed there. By the way, he always appreciated your help in proving that his brother-in-law could've been responsible for his death, instead of it being a suicide.”

Tossing back her head, Emma let out a hoot of laugher. “Oh goodness child, he's haunting your house? I remember, he was a fine looking man.”

Danielle blushed. “Well, he still is.”

“Goodness, gracious. I had no idea! I wonder if Emmett knows Mr. Marlow is haunting Marlow House.”

“I suppose you can ask him,” Danielle suggested.

“I will, once I move on.”

“If it wasn't something you saw Walt do—and if you don't recall meeting any of the people who died on the boat—”

“There is always that business partner of Walt Marlow's,” Emma suddenly remembered.

“Jack?” Danielle asked.

Emma nodded. “I think that was his name. He disappeared right after the Eva Aphrodite went down. Heard he stole a bunch of money from Walt Marlow, which really never surprised me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because those people were after him, threatened to kill him.”

“Umm Emma, I think maybe I know what you're suppose to show me.”

“What's that?”

“Whatever it is you know about Walt's partner, Jack. Because you see, Jack didn't run off with Walt's money. He was murdered. They found his remains on the Eva Aphrodite.”

D
anielle was
no longer sitting on a front porch. Instead of a rocking chair, she sat with Emma at a table in what Danielle assumed was the Bluebell Diner. One clue was the menu on the adjacent table that said, “Bluebell Diner.”

Half of the tables were occupied, and by the dress and hairstyles of the customers sitting at those tables, Danielle was fairly confident the timeframe was the 1920s.

“If I did this right, they don't see us,” Emma said as an attractive black waitress approached their table and began wiping down the tabletop before straightening the condiments.

Leaning toward the server, Danielle read her nametag. “Oh my gosh, it's you!”

Emma smiled. “I forgot how young I was back then. Where did the time go?”

“You were gorgeous,” Danielle said in awe. “You look like a movie star.”

Emma laughed. “I'll have to say, no one has ever compared me to a movie star.”

“I'm serious,” Danielle said with a convincing nod. “You were quite stunning...oh…not that I mean you don't look nice now.”

Emma laughed again as her former self turned from the table and went on with her work. “Since I'm no longer attached to either flesh and blood body, I suppose those earthly tethers no longer apply.”

In the next moment, the Emma sitting next to Danielle transformed herself into the younger version of herself.

“Very nice,” Danielle said with a smile.

Emma shrugged. “I'm hoping that when all this is resolved, I'll be able to move on to Emmett, and when I do, I'd rather come to him like this so he'll recognize me.”

“When your husband used to visit you, how did you look in your dreams?”

Emma smiled at Danielle. “Like this. My mama always said I was vain.”

Danielle was about to respond when Emma quickly hushed her and said, “This is what I wanted you to hear. Listen up.”

Turning in the direction of Emma's focused stare, Danielle watched as Jack entered the diner alone and headed for the table she and Emma sat at. He wore a gray suit, with a flap hat perched cockily on his head. She silently watched as he sat down with them, a folded newspaper under his arm. He unfurled the newspaper and began reading. Emma pointed to two men sitting across the room in a booth. One of them nodded in their direction. They stood up and approached their table.

When the two men suddenly appeared at his side and began to sit down, Jack startled, looking up from his paper. One of the men took Danielle's seat, forcing her to stand abruptly and move out of his way.

“I'm sorry. I should have had you sit in the other chair, I forgot,” Emma apologized.

Now standing by the table, Danielle couldn't help but think of all the times something like that had happened to Walt. Someone who couldn't see him—which was everyone but her and Chris—would decide to sit down on the chair he was using. Just like Walt, she couldn't actually feel the person claiming the chair, and theoretically, they could both use it simultaneously; but the thought of doing so was not only distracting, but also, to her, somewhat creepy.

Emma the waitress appeared by their table as the two men sat down. She glanced back to the booth they'd previously occupied, just as she started to hand Jack a menu. “Did you want to change tables?”

One of the men roughly pushed back the menu she was handing to Jack, shoving it into the front of her apron. “Go away girl, we have something to discuss with this boy.”

Visibly nervous, Emma gave a nod and stepped back, and when doing so, tripped, dropping the menu to the floor behind Jack's chair. Emma bent down to pick the menu up off the floor when the second man told Jack, “You've a week to pay us, or we're going to cut you up and sell you for bait. Understood?”

The room froze. Danielle glanced around. It reminded her of a movie stopping on a single frame. Across the room, a server had been in the process of filling a customer's cup with coffee. The stream of coffee hung midair, arching from the spout of the coffee pot to the mug sitting on a table.

“What just happened?” Danielle asked.

“That's all I heard of the conversation,” Emma explained. “Back then, I didn't want to hear more, so I hustled myself away from that table. Never a good idea to know too much.”

“Do you know who those men were?” Danielle studied the two men sitting at the table with Jack. She guessed they were in their forties. Yet she could be wrong. One thing she had noticed in the past was, when looking at photographs of people from Walt's era, they always seemed older than their modern day counterparts did.

One of the two men sported a pencil mustache and a fedora hat atop his head. Proper etiquette dictated men remove hats when indoors, yet neither Jack nor this man had done that, Danielle noted. The third man was clean-shaven, and she could see his hat still sitting on the booth bench across the room where he had recently been sitting. What style of hat he wore, she couldn't tell from this distance.

“Oh, I knew who they were all right. Local muscle. I never knew who they worked for exactly. Emmett always said it was best that way. The one with the hat, I heard him called Ballot Bob. Emmett said that was because he had a way of persuading people how to vote. The other one was called Reggie something. Never knew their last names, that I recall.”

“So, Jack owed them money?”

“I think he had a gambling problem. At least that's what Emmett said after I told him what I overheard. When Jack disappeared the next week I figured he either ran off with Walt Marlow's money to get away from those men, or they made good on their promise.”

“Did you ever say anything to anyone what you heard, after Jack disappeared?” Before Emma could answer, Danielle said, “I guess that was a stupid question. I don't imagine you told anyone.”

“Just Emmett. He told me to keep my mouth shut.”

“Can you unfreeze this, so I can hear the rest of their conversation?”

“I told you, that's all I heard,” Emma reminded.

“Let's just try.” Danielle remembered the recent dream hop Walt had taken her on, where she was able to listen in on conversations, even ones Walt hadn't overheard at the time they actually took place—providing his former self had been in the same room.

“Okay,” Emma said with a shrug. In the next moment, everyone around them came back to life.

Licking his lips nervously, Jack leaned forward and said under his breath, “I told you guys, I'll have your money. I just need a little time. Give me another week and I'll have it for you.”

“Time's run out, Jack-o,” Ballot Bob said.

“But you're in luck,” Reggie added. “We have a little favor to ask you. You do this for us, and you'll be square.”

Jack frowned. “What do you want me to do?”

“Once we tell you what we need, you understand you can't say nuthin' to anyone. Got that?” Ballot Bob said.

Jack shook his head. “Don't ask me to kill anyone. I'm not going to do it, so don't ask. I don't want to know who you want to get rid of. I don't want to be involved.”

Ballot Bob laughed. “Don't worry Jack-o. It's nothing like that. We just need you to help us board the Eva Aphrodite.”

“What do you mean, board her?” Jack frowned.

“No one's going to get hurt,” Reggie assured him. “We just need you to help us get on and off, without any problem.”

“And afterwards, you'll be square with us,” Ballot Bob promised.

Once again the room froze. Danielle glanced around. “What happened?”

Emma frowned. “I don't know.”

“Where are you, Emma?” Danielle asked.

“What do you mean, I'm right here.”

“No, you from back then, the waitress. I don't see you anywhere,” Danielle told her.

Emma glanced around the room. “I think it was the end of my shift, so I went home.”