The Storycatcher (28 page)

And really, why would I care? But I did. Miss Tuggle would love some of them in her garden. The water rushed in and out, rocking me. This was the kind of place I could live if I let myself. Will sat down on the sand and pointed to the place beside him. I gave us some extra room. He watched the gray-brownish water move in and then pull out. Then he looked out further like he might be searching for the flat end of the earth.

“Now watch.” He leaned over to me without moving his stare.

Where the sky touched the ocean turned a thin strip of orange. The orange grew wider and turned brighter.

“There.” He pointed like some little boy.

The waves far out into the sea grew bigger. The orange turned into the sun and stretched its yellow fingers across the water, sparkling. Then what I thought was a wave twirled into the air and then another. The ocean was coming alive, dancing in the twinkling bright light. I could only stare. The waves were alive, sparkling when the sun hit them. Creatures, large fish. Their bodies were shiny and wet.
Two jumped into the air at the same time and twisted before disappearing into the water again.

Will smiled. “Dolphins. They put on a show each morning.” The sun was full and bright. The dolphins seemed to dance on the water. “They’re called angels of the sea in many books.”

Books. I looked at him. Yes, angels.

He unfolded a cloth with two biscuits coated in sweet, dark syrup.

I took one and allowed the bite to soak in my mouth until it was nearly gone.

When we finished eating, the dolphins had left. They faded away one at a time like I had been dreaming.

“I have something else to show you.”

I never opened my mouth on the truck ride down a bumpy road that seemed to cut straight across the island through the woods. Every kind of strange bird I could think of and some I sure didn’t know showed themselves. Then the trees disappeared and the marsh grass waved back and forth near a dark, wide, still creek.

Will parked the truck close to an old wooden dock where there was a net. “Take a look at this.”

The water was moving in a quiet, strong way.

“Tide’s coming in.” Will picked up the net. “This is a seining net. Do you know what that is?”

“No.”

“This is how fishing started here with the Geechees.”

“The what?” I looked away before he met my stare.

“Geechees. That’s what the Negro people on Sapelo Island call themselves. See, these families, my father’s family, go all the way back to slave days and further here on this island. They didn’t have a way to own a boat back then. So they fished the way the elders did in their homeland.” He looked at me quiet-like. “They all ended up here because they were stolen from their land and made into slaves. And that isn’t right.”

Part of me was just too stubborn to agree.

“Everyone was poor and still is, but they knew how to take a catch from the ocean even if they didn’t have a boat.” He picked up the net with little weights tied to the edges and a long rope that he tied around his arm. “I’ll show you how they fished. Then we are going to take our catch and eat lunch.” He took a piece of the net and placed a weight in his mouth. The thing opened like a flower when it was in full bloom and landed on top of the water, sinking. Will held the rope. He waited and then tugged. He waved me over to help him pull in the net even though I had a feeling he could have done the work all by himself. The net dropped on the dock. Inside were shrimp and a couple of good-size crabs with shells that looked blue in places.

“See, the water gave us our lunch just like it did the Geechees a long time ago.”

That simple. I took a breath and sat down on the dock without thinking. The water seemed to hum with a slow movement.

“My daddy, William Tine, was a netmaker until he left the island and met Mama in New Orleans. Ada still uses his nets, mending them when a hole opens. I guess it’s her way of honoring her love for him. Brothers and sisters are like that even when they don’t agree.”

Someone loving a person that much was hard for me to hold on to. And I wasn’t going to talk to him about brothers and sisters, ’cause he didn’t know a dern thing.

“Let’s go to eat our catch. Ada will cook it up.” He turned and looked at me. “So Faith is in Darien?”

I stiffened. “Yep.”

He nodded.

“Nada’s doing real good, Will, in case you were wondering.” My words came out mean.

“Things aren’t simple.”

“You’re not the only soul who had hard times, Will.”

“My leaving wasn’t about hard feelings.”

“What about Nada?”

A big bluish-gray bird flew to stand on the bank.

“That’s a blue heron. It’s catching food for the day.”

So we wasn’t going to talk about Nada.

“YOU GOT TO DROP US
at Miss Laura Wool’s house,” Ada told Will. Then she looked over at me. “She be one of the best root doctors on the coast.”

Will nodded. “I’m going to
Sweet Jesse.
”

Ada smiled. “I wondered how long it would take.” She smiled at me. “He spent the whole day with you yesterday, missy. Most days when he’s home from school, he’s on that boat. It be like them two are married.”

Will only smiled.

He dropped us in front of a tiny green house that sat on the edge of the community Ada called Hog Hammock. “You want me to come back for you?”

Ada laughed. “We can walk. Do us good.”

As I stood waiting on Ada to slide across the truck seat and get out, Will smiled at me. “I have a good life here, Shelly.”

And I knew he did. It was probably what made me the maddest at him.

After he pulled away, Ada looked at me. “What’s wrong with you, girl? I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t talk to you again.”

I looked away. “He left me, Ada. He left Nada.”

She snorted. “So no forgiveness coming out you, girl. Good thing most folks don’t think like you. I don’t think your mama would want you acting like this.”

And she was probably right about that.

Ada pushed an old wooden door open, tapping on it. “Miss Laura, how you doing this fine day?”

The room was dark and tiny but clean as a pin. A big chair sat under the only window. The old woman sitting there looked at me. “Who she be?”

“No worries. Miss Laura, this is Will’s sister, Shelly.”

Miss Laura gave me a hard look. I wanted to tell her I didn’t want to be there any more than she wanted me.

“We came to see your quilts. I want Shelly here to see your charm quilt.”

Miss Laura took her mean look off me. “It be right over there, Ada, in the trunk. But you know how powerful that thing is. Be careful.”

Now my full attention was on the trunk and Ada.

“Yes, ma’am. But I want Shelly to see it ’cause she won’t believe me if she don’t.” She shot a tolerant smile at Miss Laura. “She’s been raised in the mountains of North Carolina and don’t know a thing about the old ways.”

“Lord, do I know what you be talking about, Ada. The only reason we still honor the ways is ’cause of being right here on this island. But now that Will, he be good. He understands.”

“Yes, ma’am, but he’s one of a kind.” Ada looked at me.

The quilt was wrapped in old, soft tissue paper. Ada brought it to the table in the middle of the room.

“Careful, Ada,” Miss Laura said. “I don’t touch the thing much.”

Ada folded the tissue paper back, and there was a faded blue, red, and green nine-patch pattern. There was a picture and handwriting on a piece of muslin right in the middle. The thing looked as old as Miss Laura Wool.

She handed me a corner. “Feel it.”

When I touched the quilt, my fingers tingled like one of Nada’s spells. I seen a young black man dressed in an old suit of clothes. He faded in and out.

Miss Laura Wool struggled to stand.

“You don’t have to stand, ma’am,” Ada said. She moved to help her, but Miss Laura Wool waved her away.

“You’ll find what you’re looking for on the mainland, girl. Then you’ll go home, but ain’t nothing ever going to be the same.”

I looked away from her watery hazel eyes.

“Your brother will live out his life here.”

The quilt burned beneath my fingers.

“This quilt was made into a charm to punish my man. He died in his wedding suit.”

Ada tapped the quilt. “This is the same kind of quilt Faith be making. The one you told me about.” She continued to stare at the quilt. “I seen it up there in that room folded all nice and neat in her cloth sack. You’re right, Shelly. She’s got a charm quilt.”

I looked at the middle of the quilt, where there was a picture of a gravestone.
He died too young.
I jerked my hand away.

Miss Laura Wool laughed, a crackling sound. “You be right about that, girl. Don’t be touching it much. It’s the touch that brings it alive. Depending what this girl has sewed into her death quilt, it could kill you.”

“How does it work?” I asked.

Miss Laura Wool looked at me for a minute like she was trying to decide if I was worth telling. “A soul is locked into the sewing. Who be sewed into this girl’s quilt?”

Who would Faith hate enough to sew into a spell quilt? But Faith wasn’t herself. She was Arleen. So who in the world did Arleen hate enough to help sew them into a death quilt?

“If a soul be picked, they’re doomed to die. Ain’t much you can do to save them.” Miss Laura Wool smiled real big at me. “Lots of desires, pain, hate, and love goes into the making. You got to know the story to understand the use intended in the charm.”

And in Miss Laura Wool’s words I saw Armetta. I had managed not to think of her too much since I left. I hadn’t even touched that stupid book of hers, but I knew I had to read it and sooner than later I had to know the whole story.

A
ROUND MIDNIGHT ON SUNDAY,
I woke up to Missus standing by my little bed. “You were crying in your sleep, calling me.”

Faith was stirring around inside of me, but I shoved her down. “I had a bad dream,” I said.

Missus pulled back the cover. “Scoot. This is what my mama used to do when I had nightmares.” She crawled in beside me. I tried not to touch her but that was hard. Then Faith stilled and sleep slid through me. I relaxed next to Missus’s warm body. Nobody ever did this for me before. Maybe if they had, I wouldn’t have been hurt by Pastor in the first place.

Now, the rules for a spirit taking over a human body was simple. The human had to take help, and if the human wanted to come back, the spirit had to step aside. But I wasn’t having none of that. Faith wasn’t ready.
One thing had to be taken care of before I left. And I wasn’t giving one bit until that thing was finished.

ONE LOOK AT SHELLY
on Monday morning, and I knew something big had happened. It was spelled right across her face. She was softer, kinder. She stood at the stove cooking alongside Ada Lee Tine like they was something to each other. Just two days on that island, and she was gone from Black Mountain, gone from Missus and Faith. Maybe it was as simple as that, leaving. “These pancakes are so good, Shelly.”

She half smiled at me. “Ada’s recipe.”

“We got to get us this recipe, then.” I smiled real sweet at Ada, who looked at me like I was some big old bear coming after her.

Missus wore a full red skirt with a blue sleeveless blouse. She took a bite of her pancakes. “Yum. Maybe we’ll never leave this place, Faith. Maybe we can always have Ada’s pancakes.”

“I’ll not be working more than a month, ma’am. But I have a feeling a woman like you could make out just fine on her own.” Ada smiled at Missus.

Missus looked at me. “I think we should explore today. Why don’t you go change into some comfortable walking shoes.”

I was wearing Faith’s fancy heels that was blue to match the dress I had on.

“Yes, ma’am.” I left the kitchen and ran smack into Mary Beth Clark.

“You understand that nothing soft and sweet can come from this moment forward.” She rushed up the stairs in a way that proved she wasn’t of the earth but a ghost. A picture fell from the wall, shattering.

“What was that?” Missus came into the hall followed by Ada.

“The picture up there just jumped off that wall.” I pointed.

Ada looked at me like I was a liar. That woman didn’t like me one bit. “I’ll get something to clean it up, Miss Lydia.”

Shelly looked at me like I was growing horns from my head. You would have thought she’d never seen a spirit.

“I’ll go get my other shoes.” I ran up the stairs.

Mary Beth Clark waited in my little room at the very top of the house. “They are happy here. No one should be happy in this house.”

“Why?”

She stared at me and came closer. “Do you know how pretty you are?” She nodded at the looking glass. “Not that girl’s body, but
you
?”

“I’m way prettier in death than I was alive.”

“There’s a reason for that. Death isn’t all bad, you know.” She came so close I should have felt heat from her body. “I studied Greek mythology when I was alive. I tried to outrun my little family. I didn’t know a thing. Do you know what a myth is?”

“No.”

“It’s a story with a hero. In the country called Greece, they told myths about their gods, and they had a lot of gods.” She pointed to the real me in the looking glass. “My favorite is the one about a mother and daughter. Persephone and her mother, Demeter.”