We Hear the Dead (7 page)

We were done for.

My sister Leah had arrived.

Maggie

Leah did not believe a word of it.

“I cannot believe you have been so easily taken in, Mother,” she chastised. “Lizzie, give over those potatoes. One would think you hadn't been taught how to handle a peeling knife. I wish you had sent for me sooner! To think I had to hear this from the parent of one of my pupils. I cannot tell you how embarrassing it was to know nothing of what was happening here while my family name was being ridiculed in letters to strangers!”

“You haven't heard the spirits rapping,” Mother said indignantly. “You don't know a thing about it.”

“I know a humbug when I hear it, even thirdhand. For Pete's sake, you would think my own daughter at least would have written to tell me! But apparently you were all too busy talking to dead people to have time to write the living!”

“I didn't want to worry you, Mother,” Lizzie mumbled.

“Oh, it was much better to have Jane Little's mother come and read me her cousin's letter and inquire whether insanity ran in my family! Betsy, don't reach over your head like that; it's not good for the baby. Maggie, fetch that pot down for Betsy instead of sitting there like a bump on a log—that's a girl. Kate, you look like the cat that swallowed the canary. Make yourself useful and set the table.”

Leah was tall and large boned, but her years of living lean had not allowed her to attain the girth of Mother. At thirty-four, she still held a flush of prettiness in a face that was a little too round but lit up by lively gray eyes. She wiped her hands on her skirt apron and surveyed the kitchen as though it were her domain while we hustled about doing her bidding. “Where is Father?” she asked, suddenly realizing his absence.

We all continued at our assigned tasks in silence for a moment while glancing sidelong at Mother. After an awkward pause, she lifted her chin and met Leah's eyes significantly. “He moved out to the new house to finish it.”

My sister arched an eyebrow. “He's living there alone?” At Mother's brief nod, Leah shook her head and shrugged one shoulder before turning to resume slicing the potatoes.

David put his head in through the back door and handed me a bucket of water from the pump. “Does she want to see the bones?” he whispered to me.

“Not before supper, David, thank you!” Leah called out. “I'll come out to the barn and pay my respects later, if you don't mind.” I fetched up beside her with a freshly filled pot and let her slide the sliced potatoes into the water. Then she looked up and met my eyes, murmuring in a lower voice, “I will want a few words with you later, as well.”

I nodded mutely.

***

At supper that evening, Leah told us how she had left Rochester the very day she learned about the hauntings involving her family. She went first to the Hydesville house, only to find that we had all moved out.

“Throughout the trip, I kept thinking that there had been some mistake and I would find that Mrs. Little's relative was ill-informed or a malicious gossip. But the neighbor in Hydesville, your Mrs. Redfield, was quick to regale me with stories about your resident ghost and about the spirit sittings you have held here at the farm.”

Mother was eager to tell her own story and launched into a long-winded version of the same tale she had told Mr. Lewis. David and Betsy interrupted to share their own little pieces, and Lizzie nodded along wholeheartedly. When they explained that the spirit rapping occurred only in the presence of her sisters, Leah turned her head to give us a most skeptical look.

Kate stared back with her innocent gaze. “We were awfully frightened at first, but now that we have come to know them, the spirits do not trouble us at all. They so terribly want to be heard.”

“Indeed,” Leah replied dryly. “I can hardly wait to satisfy their need.”

Although we had agreed, for Betsy's sake, to suspend the spirit circles, it was decided to make an exception in honor of Leah's arrival. After the supper dishes had been cleared and after David had taken Leah to visit the bones in the barn, we drew the curtains in the parlor and extinguished all but a single candle.

The spirits would be subdued that night. I had grown accustomed to concealing a block of wood within my petticoats on which I would knock with my hand in the darkness of the parlor. Tonight, with Leah watching, I could not dare. Mother began as she always did, by summoning the spirits. When they had signaled their presence with a loud rap, she began to ask the usual questions.

“Are we in the presence of spirits from beyond the veil of life?” Two raps.

“Have you any messages for us this evening?” Two raps.

Mother smiled triumphantly and looked significantly at her eldest daughter as she asked, “Do you have a message from my grandfather Jacob Smith this evening?” Two raps.

This great-grandparent, whom I had never known, was a special favorite of Leah's, but she sat impassively as we waited out the rapping through the alphabet, which eventually spelled out:
Welcome my little Annie Leah.

Leah's only response to this pet name was a raised eyebrow. “Is this the spirit of my great-grandfather, Jacob Smith?”

There came one rap, for no.

Mother leaned forward to touch Leah's arm. “Oh no, he never raps himself.”

“Why not? I never knew him to be short on words in life.”

“You're not taking this seriously,” Betsy observed quietly.

“I
am
serious!” Leah protested, but she was laughing.

“Do you have any questions for the spirits, Leah?” Kate asked sweetly.

“Yes, I do.” Leah leaned forward in her chair and addressed the air just below the ceiling, as she had seen our mother do. “Was Adelaide Granger's daughter Harriet really poisoned by her husband?”

It was a pickle of a question. We all knew the story, from our days living in Rochester. The daughter of Leah's friend Mrs. Granger had died of a sudden illness, and poison had been suspected. The husband, who was a doctor, had gone to trial and had been acquitted, but Mr. and Mrs. Granger had never stopped believing that their son-in-law had murdered their daughter.

Rather to my surprise, the spirit rapped twice, for yes. I wondered if Kate knew what she was doing.

Leah also registered surprise. “What should Mrs. Granger do about it?”

David called out the alphabet for us, as he usually did.

Nothing. Be at peace
.

“What about justice for the husband?” demanded Leah.

The answer came:
He will receve justice in the next life.

“That's an interesting spelling of the word ‘receive,'” noted Leah. “Perhaps our spirit should have spent more time at its studies and less time rapping on the gates of heaven.”

“Oh, Leah!” Mother exclaimed at the same moment that David snorted and said, “Doggone it, Leah!”

Suddenly, Kate spilled out of her chair and onto the floor in a faint, which we had agreed she would do if our sister became difficult. I was the first on the floor beside her, taking her hand as everyone else started out of their seats. “Kate! Kate!” I cried. “Can you hear me?”

Kate turned her head toward my voice and her eyelids fluttered. “Don't fear for me, Maggie. I am simply spent. The spirits have gone away now.”

Lizzie was immediately at my side, helping me lift Kate to her feet, and then Mother was there, clucking and fussing over her. Together, we escorted Kate upstairs and put her into the trundle bed in the children's room, and then I lay down beside her, pleading exhaustion myself.

I know the adults spent a long time downstairs talking after that. Kate and I whispered to each other, trying to decide what we should do. We heard footsteps approach and we quieted ourselves instantly. The door opened and someone slipped into the room. I knew without looking that it was Leah. She stood over us silently while we tried to breathe steadily and feign sleep. After a time, she moved away and her footsteps retreated down the stairs.

***

There was one sure way to avoid Leah the next day—we went to school. Our attendance had been sporadic since we moved to Hydesville, and once the rapping began we had been more often truant than not. The teacher looked none too pleased to have us suddenly appear, as our presence provided a distraction to the other pupils, who were more interested in us than their lessons.

As we were passing through Hydesville on our long walk back to David's farm at the end of the school day, Mrs. Redfield came bustling out of her house to catch us.

“I have so missed our sittings, girls! Mrs. Jewell and I were just saying that we hoped that we could sit with you this evening. With all due consideration to Betsy Fox's nervous condition, I wanted to offer my own parlor. I can send my husband with the carriage for you and your mother—and the sister you have visiting from Rochester. Do ask your mother, won't you, girls? I will send Mr. Redfield around dusk.”

“Betsy's nervous condition indeed,” muttered Kate as we continued on our way. “She looked pretty sprightly last night when she was watching Leah sharpen her tongue on us.”

“She'd boot us all out of the house if David would let her,” I agreed. “Shall we go to Mrs. Redfield's house tonight, then?”

“If Mother will allow it,” replied Kate. “I'm a little fearful about what Leah will say in front of the ladies, though.”

At Mrs. Redfield's house, Leah could not have been more pleasant or polite. The ladies were quite taken with her personable manner and forthright friendliness. Mrs. Hyde asked her, “Where is your husband, dear?”

Leah cast her eyes down sadly and said, “He's dead,” which was news to me. But then I saw Lizzie cringe in embarrassment, and I realized that her father was just as alive as ever and probably still living out west with his rich widow.

During our sitting, Leah sat demurely with her hands folded in her lap and listened attentively to the spirits. If she smiled now and again, it seemed only to indicate her pleasure in hearing the uplifting messages from those who had gone before us to heaven. Once she caught me watching her and winked.

It wasn't until the third day of Leah's visit that the blow finally fell. Lulled by a false sense of security, Kate and I had been unwise enough to let her find us alone. Leah caught us in the parlor and shut the door.

“I know you are doing it,” she said, without preamble. “I don't quite know how, but I know it is you.”

Kate began hesitantly: “It is true that we are the medium through which the spirits…”

“Forget that hogwash, Catherine!” Leah snapped. “I know you are making the noises with your person somehow. There are no spirits at work here.”

“I have the gift!” Kate said indignantly.

“The gift of mischief making! But you haven't any sense! Do you have any idea what would happen if you were found out? Stop fidgeting and look at me, Margaretta! Mrs. Redfield thinks you are both the most darling girls. Can you imagine how that would change if she discovered you were making a fool of her? And what about your rich Mrs. Hyde? She's the biggest toad in the puddle here, and if her husband found out how you've tricked them both, he would ride you out of town on a rail!”

I sniffed doubtfully, and Leah turned on me. “Do you think they don't do that anymore, Margaretta? I am here to tell you they most certainly do.”

She turned back to Kate. “What about Betsy and David? Have you thought about them? If you are discovered a fraud, their reputation is ruined. They'll have to leave town. Everyone would think they were in on it, especially with David giving people peeks at that box like it was a carnival sideshow! What about Lizzie? She'll be riding that rail right beside you, because no one's going to believe that one out of the three girls was innocent.”

It was true. I had not thought about any of those things. I couldn't help flashing a look of alarm and despair at Kate, whose eyes were welling with tears.

“You've gotten yourselves in a fix, girls,” Leah said. “It's a lucky thing for you that I came when I did.”

***

Leah sat Mother down for a long talk. Kate and I stood together quietly in the corner of the room and did just what Leah had told us to do.

“The strain of this gift is too much for such young girls,” Leah explained to our mother. “Kate has already had one fit and fainted dead away on another occasion.”

“But the spirits just come, every evening,” said Mother. “What can we do but listen to them?”

“I propose that we try splitting up the girls.” Leah glanced back at us, and we nodded as we were supposed to. If we did not agree, Leah had made it plain that she would reveal our deception to Mother. “I will take Kate with me back to Rochester, and Maggie will remain here with you—for now. If all goes well, you can join us in a few weeks.”

Mother's brow furrowed. Kate was her youngest, and I could see how much it pained her to be parted from her baby. “Perhaps you should take Maggie,” Mother suggested. I wasn't sure whether to feel jealous at that or hopeful about returning to Rochester or apprehensive about leaving with Leah.

However, Leah's plans were already made. “I will take Kate,” she insisted. “Then, if there is another fit, she can see a doctor in Rochester who doesn't take horses as patients on alternate Saturdays!”

“There's nothing wrong with Dr. Knowles,” muttered Mother. “But I guess it couldn't hurt to let a city doctor take a look.” She brightened. “I could come with you.”

“You will stay here,” Leah instructed. “Betsy will need your help when the baby comes. I will write you in a few weeks, and if this spirit manifestation is under control, you can bring Maggie for a visit.”

In the end, there was nothing Mother could do but bow to her daughter's will. We passed Kate into Leah's greedy hands, not knowing that we were conducting the business of spirit communication into an entirely new realm.