Paula Morris (9 page)

Read Paula Morris Online

Authors: Ruined

BOOK: Paula Morris
10.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"They come by this tomb sometimes," Lisette whispered.
"Helena Bowman and the others."

"Do they talk to you?"

Lisette shook her head. "They've never seen me."

Rebecca's mind started racing: Like Lisette, she'd rather make
herself scarce than face Marianne and her smug band of friends. Sure, over here
she couldn't be accused of eavesdropping, but Rebecca didn't want to have to
answer any rude questions. They might say she'd followed them in; Anton might
have seen her running down the street last

73

week. Maybe he'd recognize her and denounce her in front of his
awful friends.

"Helena's not here tonight," Rebecca whispered back to
Lisette, and then she wondered: Why did a girl from a far-off neighborhood --
who spent all her time, apparently, hiding out in the cemetery -- know Helena,
of all people, by name?

"Good," said Lisette, half to herself.

"But we have to get out of here before the rest of them see
us," said Rebecca, forgetting to lower her voice. The voices were getting
closer, and Rebecca felt sick with anxiety, looking around for the best escape
route. Strangely enough, Lisette didn't seem spooked at all. Didn't she always
try to avoid them? "Quick -- they're coming!"

Lisette gave an enigmatic smile, her teeth white as the moonlight.
She reached out one hand to Rebecca.

"Keep still and say nothing," she said in a low voice,
taking Rebecca's hand. Her grasp was surprisingly cool for such a warm and
sticky night. "Believe me. They won't see you if you're with me."

Rebecca opened her mouth to protest, but it was too late. Anton
and the others were approaching, swarming up the steps and around the tomb like
invading cockroaches. Toby was ineptly juggling two empty beer bottles, and
Julie was laughing at his near misses. Anton was deep in conversation with
another boy, stopping just a few feet from where Lisette and Rebecca stood.
Nobody said a word to them.

Rebecca's heart was hammering, and she realized she was gripping
Lisette's hand very hard. She swung around to look

74

at her new friend, and Lisette smiled, shaking her head, as if to
remind Rebecca to keep quiet. But this was ridiculous: It couldn't be long
before someone noticed them lurking in the shadows. However still Rebecca tried
to stand, her legs were trembling like trees in a rainstorm. These kids might
be self-absorbed -- and some of them might even be drunk -- but they weren't
that
dense. Sooner or later, they'd be spotted; maybe Marianne would scream, or
Toby would grab them.

Part of Rebecca just wanted to make a run for it, to sprint away
into the darkness and hide herself in the thicket of tombs. But something about
Lisette's calm insistence that they wouldn't be seen made her stay put. And
they were in this together, after all. Both were outsiders, sure to be derided
by this group: Lisette because she was black and poor, and Rebecca because she
would never belong to their social set -- or to this city.

One of the boys staggered up to throw away his cigarette butt,
leaning one hand against the tomb --just inches from her flinching face -- and
it was only then that Rebecca realized why Lisette was so certain they were
safe, why nobody was going to find them. All of a sudden, it was obvious.

Nobody could see her, and nobody could see Lisette. They were
invisible -- as invisible as ghosts.

75

***

CHAPTER TEN

***

Another ten minutes passed before Marianne, Julie, and the St.
Simeon boys meandered off into the night. When the voices had receded, Lisette
let go of her hand, and Rebecca slumped on the steps of the tomb, wondering if
this whole adventure was just some strange nightmare. She was shaking so hard,
she could barely speak.

"Why couldn't they see us?" she managed to croak, at
last.

"We were invisible to them," Lisette said, sitting down
next to Rebecca on the steps, stroking her dusty skirt as though it were a
mermaid's tail.

"But
how?"
Rebecca asked. "I mean, I've
never been invisible before."

"You should hold my hand more often." There was just
enough moonlight for Rebecca to see the small smile creeping onto Lisette's
face. "I'm invisible all the time. It's not so bad."

76

So that was why Aurelia couldn't see Lisette the other day:
Nobody
could see Lisette! But wait: Rebecca could see her perfectly well. This was
just too weird.

"What do you mean you're invisible?" Rebecca asked. It
wasn't that cold, but her teeth were chattering so much she could barely form a
coherent sentence. "I can see you. And people aren't just
invisible.
It's
not possible."

Lisette gave a soft sigh.

"People aren't invisible," she said, picking at a
congealed spot on her skirt. "Living people, that is. Ghosts are
invisible."

Rebecca shook her head hard, as though she was trying to clear
water out of her ears: Something was clogging her brain, because she couldn't
follow what Lisette was saying.

"So you're trying to tell me that
you're
a ghost and
that's why you're invisible."

Lisette nodded. Rebecca slapped a hand against the stone step.

"But I don't believe in ghosts!" she protested. "At
least -- I've never really thought about it before. Ghosts are just something
from ... I don't know, horror stories. Creepy films. Ghosts are something you
dress up as at Halloween. And you're not invisible --
I can see you!"

"Other ghosts can see us."

Rebecca couldn't believe her ears.

"Oh my god," she said slowly, her heart thumping.
"Can ... can I be a ghost without knowing it? Have I died without
realizing it? Is New Orleans hell or something?"

Lisette laughed.

"It's not heaven, that's for sure," she said. "But
don't worry.

77

Sometimes other people can see us as well. You're not a ghost. By
now I can tell the difference." "Really?"

"It took a while, but I learned, Ghosts can be seen by other
ghosts, but we can make our presence known to the living as well. There has to
be a reason. Say, when some long-dead queen appears in a castle tower and
someone sees her, it means she's trying to send him a message."

"What kind of a message?" Rebecca asked, hugging her
knees, willing herself to calm down. Ghosts didn't exist in her world: They
were just made-up things, like gremlins and elves and unicorns. Lisette might
be a crazy person, telling her this ridiculous story. But then, those kids
tonight in the cemetery were right there, just feet away, and they'd looked
right through Rebecca and Lisette. What was going on?

"It could be a warning or a way of asking for help. And, you
know, ghosts can only haunt particular places associated with their lives. With
their deaths, especially. Otherwise, all the ghosts would head down to Grand
Isle to sit by the sea."

"Or to Paris to sit in a café, I guess," said Rebecca.
She'd never really thought about ghosts before or about ghosts being stuck
somewhere they didn't want to be. This was all too much to take in.

"If we could go wherever we wanted, the entire netherworld
would be crowded together in a couple of places," Lisette said drily.
"And believe me -- you don't want to see that! There are too many ghosts
in New Orleans as it is. You should see them all in the Quarter, arguing over
their territory. Sometimes it's comical. Sometimes it's scary."

78

"So, are you sending me a warning?" Rebecca asked, a
little wary now. She wasn't sure how she felt about being singled out by a
so-called ghost. In fact, she didn't know what was worse: being singled out by
a ghost, or by a crazy person who
thought
she was a ghost. "Or do
... do you need my help?"

"I don't know," said Lisette. She wriggled her toes --
her bare feet were surprisingly clean. "People have seen me before, and
I've always understood why. But I don't know about you. That's the reason I was
so surprised last week, when you fell over on the pathway. I said something to
you, but I talk to people all the time -- they never hear me. But
you
could
hear me, and then I realized you could see me as well."

"I can see a ghost," Rebecca muttered. "Really --
you're a ghost?"

"Since August l853-"

"Are you serious? That's, like, a hundred and fifty years
ago!"

"One hundred fifty-five and three months. It was during the
great yellow fever epidemic. They couldn't bury us fast enough in this
cemetery."

"You've been in this cemetery for a
hundred and fifty-five
years?"
Rebecca whispered.

"Well, once a year, I walk to my house in Tremé. At the end
of November, the anniversary of my mother's death. Walk there, then walk back."

"Why?"

"I don't know." Lisette shrugged, flashing her pretty
smile. "Something in me makes me do it -- I don't really understand why. I
haven't been there since last November.

79

The house was still a mess. It's been that way ever since the big
storm, the one they call Katrina. Since then, nobody lives there. Half the roof
is gone. My mother would be sad to see it."

"Your mother's not a ghost as well?" Lisette shook her
head.

"The only way I'll see her again is, you know, in heaven.
When I don't have to go a-haunting anymore."

"That's when I'll see my mother, too," Rebecca said,
feeling an unbearable wave of sadness, though she wasn't sure if it was for
herself or for Lisette. If Lisette was telling the truth ... were there really
all these unseen ghosts wandering the world? How many were there, Rebecca
wondered -- all those ghosts she couldn't see? Maybe her own mother was one of
them.

"In the meantime," said Lisette, and her voice sagged
with sadness, "the only other places I can go are this cemetery and the
Bowman mansion."

Rebecca was about to ask why the Bowman mansion, of all places,
when the silence of the night was broken by a distant -- but distinct -- cry.

"Rebecca! Rebecca!"

It was her aunt's voice, plaintive and breaking, calling for her
from beyond the cemetery walls.

"Oh, no!" Rebecca leaped to her feet. "That's my
aunt, looking for me. Oh god! She must have checked my room!"

"It's this way to the gate," said Lisette, getting up
and walking down the steps. "Follow me."

Rebecca gathered up her flashlight, so flustered she dropped it
again immediately.

80

"She'll call the police if she can't find me," she told
Lisette. "And she'll go completely crazy if she finds out I've been in
here."

"I could walk out with you, holding your hand. You'll be
invisible, remember? She'll never know you were in here. I can't walk down
Sixth Street with you, though."

"Why not?"

"I can only haunt certain places, remember? I don't know why
-- that's just the way it is."

Rebecca stumbled after Lisette's darting form, her mind reeling.
Ghosts. Invisibility. Yellow fever. Hurricane Katrina. One hundred fifty-five
years ...

But when they arrived at the gate, and Lisette reached for
Rebecca's hand, Rebecca came to her senses. She'd forgotten one important
thing. Holding on to Lisette might make her temporarily invisible, but --
unlike Lisette -- she was a real-life, flesh-and-blood person, not a ghost. She
couldn't walk through walls or doors or locked gates. With all the excitement
and strangeness of the evening, Rebecca hadn't stopped to think that this week
was no different from last. When the gang of "Them" left the
cemetery, Anton had secured the gate behind them. Rebecca was locked in the
cemetery.

81

***

CHAPTER ELEVEN

***

Aunt claudia was not amused. she glowered at Rebecca through the
grille of the gate, her mouth set in a severe line.

"What are you doing in there?" she demanded, pulling one
of her many voluminous patterned kimonos close around her. Her cat eyes looked
worried rather than angry, but this only made Rebecca feel worse. "It's
the
middle of the night!"

"I'm so sorry," Rebecca said, and she really was sorry
-- sorry for getting stuck in the cemetery, sorry to drag Aunt Claudia out here
onto the street
in the middle of the night,
and sorry to be caught. As
soon as Rebecca dropped Lisette's hand, the ghost -- if that's what she really
was -- had drifted away. "I was ... I was looking for the cat, and the
gate was open, and ... I guess I got locked in."

"The cat!" Aunt Claudia raised one of her skimpy gray
eyebrows. "The cat can look after itself. You, on the other hand ..."

She rattled the tall gate ineffectually, frowning at its
rust-dabbed lock.

82

"I'm sorry," Rebecca said again.

Other books

Culture Shock by Simpson, Ginger
Vengeance by Botefuhr, Bec
Smallbone Deceased by Michael Gilbert
Homesick by Ward, Sela
The Best of Our Spies by Alex Gerlis
Immortality by Kevin Bohacz