Raising the Dead (6 page)

I was impressed with Jared’s pumpkin-carving skills. “That’s not a jack-o-lantern,” I told him. “It’s art.”

He eyed his work, a striking image of a raven perched on a tree branch. “Needs a little more off the side.”

I was glad he’d come over to William’s house. And I really appreciated the grocery bag full of snacks he’d brought with him, as well as the plump pumpkin. “It’s not Halloween without one,” he’d declared. Avery spread out newspapers on the kitchen table. Noah found a sharp knife, and Jared went to work while the rest of us gathered in the living room. Avery had insisted on watching the
Silver Spirits
marathon, despite my halfhearted protest.

“I’ve never seen an entire episode,” she explained. “And how cool is this?”

We were four episodes into the marathon when Mom finally called to check in. “We’re about to open the last coffin,” she said. I could hear the excitement in her voice. “So far, we’ve uncovered so many artifacts! It’s really amazing. And the museum team is allowing us to stay for the final coffin, so we may be awhile. Everything okay there?”

I looked over my shoulder. Avery and Jared were sitting on the sofa together, sharing a bowl full of jalapeño chips. Noah was lying on the floor with his elbows propped up. His comment about being ready if the attacker came back was still lingering in my mind. I felt safe with him around.

“Yeah, things are good. William’s been sleeping a lot, but he ate some lunch an hour ago.”

“The doctors said he should take it easy. Rest is what he needs.”

Mom said she’d call back later and we hung up. The episode came to an end, which automatically prompted Jared and Noah to get up. They were making rounds in the cemetery at the end of each hour.

“It’ll be dark soon,” I said as I sat next to Avery.

“We can light the jack-o-lantern for trick-or-treaters.”

“Do you really think we’ll get any tonight? The nearest house is two miles from here.”

“No.” Avery dug into the bowl of chips. “But I really want to see Jared’s pumpkin lit. It’s good, isn’t it?”

“It’s beyond good. It’s great.”

“He’s so artistic.” Avery examined a chip, then let it fall back into the bowl. “I’m not trying to be self-absorbed, I swear. But I worry about what people will think. About me getting closer with Jared, I mean.”

I thought about my response. Avery had loved Jared’s best friend. Adam had died, and now she was taking those first careful steps toward a new life. A life that included Jared. I knew that might fuel rumors. I understood her concern: would people think she hadn’t loved Adam because she had moved on with Jared? I knew Avery. I knew how much she had struggled, and I had no doubt that if she felt a connection with Jared, then that connection was real. I knew all of that. I also knew that people on the outside might not see it that way, so I understood what she was really asking me. She wanted to know if people would perceive any type of relationship with Jared as wrong.

“He’s a really nice guy,” I said. “And if he makes you happy, then I think that’s great.”

“Yeah.” Avery poked at the bowl of chips. “I don’t know. It’s too soon.”

I didn’t disagree with her. Adam had been killed less than a year before. I understood that Avery felt a certain loneliness, but I also understood that she needed time. Thanks to my parents’
career, I’d been around enough grieving people to know that everyone needed time, and the people who moved on too fast ended up regretting it. I didn’t want to push Avery in either direction. I wanted her to realize what she needed to do on her own, but no matter what she decided, I would be there for her. I could do at least that much for my best friend.

The guys returned from their hourly inspection of the cemetery. “All clear,” Noah announced.

Jared immediately sat next to Avery on the sofa. Noah plopped down on the floor, and I got up to give William his medication. As I tipped the brown bottle into my palm and counted two pills, I glanced out the window. The sun was setting, casting a deep red glow across the sky. Halloween. My parents were spending it in a morgue while I was in an old house with three friends and an old man recovering from a brutal attack. Somehow, it seemed fitting. I took the pills down the hallway. At least I wasn’t at home with the lights off, hoping that morbid fans weren’t descending on my front porch.

I rapped three times on the door to William’s bedroom.

“Come in.” His voice was soft and slightly hoarse. I pushed open the door. He wasn’t sitting up this time. Instead, he was lying down with blankets tucked all the way to his chin.

“I have your medicine,” I said as I slowly approached his bedside and handed him the pills and the water from his nightstand.

“Thank you, dear.”

The tone of his voice made me feel like I was his granddaughter. And that made me feel a rush of affection I was unfamiliar with. I hadn’t known my grandparents. They had died when I was little, and all I had was a few faded photos in an album stored on a bookshelf. If I could have chosen my grandfather, though, I would have chosen someone like William. Someone caring and sweet and full of passion when it came to his history. William didn’t have any family that we knew of, but he had spent years trying to protect his ancestors. And his memory book was a kind of Bible. It held information sacred to him. He was basically the last thread, the final branch of his ancient family tree. He knew that, and he took his responsibility with a sad, fierce seriousness.

“It’s Halloween, isn’t it?” He asked the question with his eyes closed. He was exhausted, even though he’d spent all day in bed. I wondered if that was a bad sign. Should he be so tired? Was that a bad sign? But Mom had said he would need rest.

“Yes, it’s Halloween.” I stood near his bed, unsure what to do. I knew he wasn’t sleeping, so I kept on talking. “It’s almost sunset. Some friends of mine are here. If we’re too noisy, let me know, okay?” I rushed to add. “We’ll keep it down.”

“No, you’re fine.” William coughed. “I’m glad you have friends here.”

I waited. It seemed like he wanted to say more.

“Charlotte.” I instinctively moved closer to him after he said my name. I hated the way he looked: small and pale in his bed, his eyes tightly shut. I hated the way I felt: awkward and desperate to help, but also desperate to leave the room.

“You’ve been so kind to me,” he began. “My wife and I were never lucky enough to have children. But if I could choose a granddaughter…” His voice trailed off. I was suddenly anxious. Was this a deathbed confession? If it was, I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t handle emotional moments. Forget end-of-life pronouncements. I couldn’t
do
this.

William seemed to sense my discomfort. He opened his eyes and looked at me. “I’m sorry.”

“Please, don’t be.”

“Charlotte, listen to me. I’m sorry.” I had never noticed before the color of his eyes. They were pale blue, almost gray. And they were focused on me with a strange intensity.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m so sorry for what you’re about to go through.”

I begged him to explain, but his medication made him groggy and sleepy and nearly incoherent. I couldn’t decipher his mumbled words. After an initial moment of panic, I tried to tell myself that he didn’t know what he was saying. The weird apology didn’t mean anything. Maybe he was having some kind of medication-induced flashback to a sad time in his life. He’d been through so much. He was traumatized.

I returned to the living room, determined to push past my anxiety and enjoy a little time with my friends. Mom and Dad would be back soon, which would basically mark the end of my evening.

“We saw you!” Avery squealed when she saw me.

“You what?”

“On TV,” Noah explained. “There was a shot of you with your mom. You were really cute.”

“Cute?” The
Silver Spirits
episode on the screen was an old one. A really old one. Dad looked wiry thin as he examined a basement and concluded the mold was probably the cause of the home owner’s hallucinations. I tried to remember the house, but I couldn’t.

“You looked like you were about eight or nine years old,” Jared said. “Was that strange for you? To be so young and wandering around haunted houses like that?”

I sat down and grabbed a handful of caramel corn. “It wasn’t haunted.”

“Yeah, but you were a little kid in a dark, strange house. You didn’t know what would happen,” Noah said. “I couldn’t have done that at nine. I was nowhere near that brave.”

I shrugged. “I wasn’t, either. All I knew was that I was with my family and had no reason to be scared.”

Two hours later, I felt that same sense of security with my friends. It was Halloween night and we were miles away from other people, but I was happy. The threat of an attack by a strange guy seemed remote, for some reason. Everything was fine. If it wasn’t, would I be able to stand outside and smile like this?

Under the cloak of the cloudy, moonless night, the glow of Jared’s jack-o-lantern became an eerie beacon. The four of us stood across the street from William’s house to get the full effect. Away from traffic and streetlights and even stars, the pumpkin blazed, blocking out almost everything else.

“This is just so cool,” Avery murmured.

It was. And it was so much better than how I had spent last Halloween, holed up in the apartment my family was renting, trying to catch up on a semester’s worth of American History. Standing in the slightly chilly night with three friends, admiring a gourd before we went back inside to watch TV and stuff ourselves full of caramel corn made this the best Halloween ever. I knew it was one of those moments I would always remember because it was so simple, so unplanned. It was close to perfect. And it would have been totally perfect except for one thing: William’s words.

I’m so sorry for what you’re about to go through
.

“We should go back in,” Jared announced. “Check on William.”

We headed up onto the porch. Avery and I went inside, but Noah and Jared hung back. “We’re going to take another tour,” Noah explained. He and Jared had started calling it that: their tour. Like a tour of duty. They carried large flashlights and scanned the ground, the stones, and
even the outer ring of the woods. They hadn’t seen anything, and Avery said if the guy was in the woods, the constant lights might make him think the police were patrolling the area.

“When did your mom say they’d be back?” Avery asked. She was evaluating our snack supply, which we’d managed to cut in half. I had just poked my head into William’s room, where he was sleeping soundly.

“At least an hour,” I told Avery. “They found something interesting in the last coffin, but she didn’t say what it was. Probably more Civil War stuff.” I scooped up some wrappers from the coffee table. “Are you okay with staying here or do you need to head home?”

“No, it’s fine. I called my mom and checked in.” She poured the last bag of chips into a plastic bowl. “This has been great, actually. I never thought I’d enjoy a quiet Halloween like this.” She chuckled. “A
Silver Spirits
marathon with an actual Silver spirit.”

I followed Avery into the kitchen. “Very funny. We don’t have to watch it, you know. I’m perfectly happy with a good slasher flick. You know, something with an abandoned campsite and screaming models posing as teenagers.”

I threw away the trash and waited for Avery to respond. But when I turned around, she was at the back door, gazing out the glass.

“What is it?”

She squinted like she was trying to see better. “I don’t know. I think something’s happening up there.”

I moved next to her. The hill blocked a lot, but I could see the occasional flash of light coming from the cemetery. Avery frowned. “It’s like—“

“They’re running,” I finished.

Avery pulled at my hand. “We have to go help them.”

My mind was twisting itself around what was going on and what we needed to do. “Flashlights,”

I said. “We can’t go up there in the dark.”

Avery began to dig through the kitchen drawers. I kept my eyes on the hill, where two beams of light zigzagged around the cemetery. Noah and Jared were shouting to one another, but I couldn’t make out their words.

“I could only find one,” Avery said.

I took it from her. “I’ll go. You stay here with William.” She began to protest, but I stopped her. “Someone needs to stay here, and I know the cemetery better than you. Make sure the front door’s locked, okay?”

Avery nodded and went into the living room. “Is it locked?” I called. She didn’t answer. I listened, but the house was quiet. The only noise was the muffled commotion coming from the cemetery.

“Avery?” I crossed the kitchen and stood in the hallway. I could see the living room. Avery had her back to me. She was simply standing there, with her arms at her side. Why wasn’t she moving? The front door was open a tiny bit. “Avery?” I knew she heard me, but she didn’t turn around. I took a few more tentative steps until I was also in the living room.

And then I saw the man sitting on the sofa.

“You!” It was the same man I’d glimpsed so many times, dressed in a black trench coat. I guessed him to be in his early thirties, but his skin was unnaturally haggard. Folds of skin sagged under his eyes. I was so intent on his facial features that it took me a second to register that he was holding a gun.

“Where is he?” the man asked.

I was shoulder to shoulder with Avery, whose mouth was slightly open in surprise. “He’s still at the hospital,” Avery said. I nodded in terrified agreement, barely able to hear her over the pounding of my heart.

“Liars.” He tilted the gun slightly, as if he wanted to make sure we noticed it. “I need to see him. I need to end this.”

“End what?” I asked. Jared and Noah would burst through the back doors at any moment. Mom and Dad might have left the morgue. Maybe Shane and Trisha were on their way. If we could keep this guy talking long enough, we would have help.

“I’m so tired,” the man said. I had to agree—the bags under his eyes suggested major lack of sleep. “You know how long it’s been since I slept more than two hours in a row? Years. But that’s about to end. Tonight.”

“Why haven’t you been sleeping?” Avery must have had the same idea as me: keep him talking. But something about her innocent inquiry set the man off.

“Because he won’t let me!” The anger in his voice made me take a step back.

I wanted to ask who wouldn’t let him sleep. Was he talking about William? But I didn’t want to trigger another outburst. He was tired and crazy and armed. And I didn’t know what he wanted or what would make him snap.

A soft cough came from down the hallway. William was awake. He would need me to bring him his medication.

The man smiled. “Good. I need to speak with Mr. Kitsman.”

Stall
, I thought.
Every second helps
.

“Why?” I blurted out.

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“You’re pointing a gun at me and my friend,” Avery said. “That concerns us.”

He narrowed his eyes. Avery jerked her head toward the front door. “Thank God you’re here!”

As soon as the man looked at the door, Avery lunged. I didn’t think about it—I rushed forward, too. While Avery grabbed the gun, I held back the guy’s other arm, which was surprisingly bony. It was like he was a skeleton beneath the oversized coat. He barely resisted as I pinned down one side and Avery pinned down the other. The three of us were on the sofa, stunned and completely unsure what was going to happen next, when Noah and Jared burst through the back door.

“We saw someone out there!” Jared said as they rushed through the kitchen.

They were red and panting, and I saw the panic in their eyes as they registered what was happening.

“Get over here!” Avery yelled. They immediately sprinted forward. Jared took over Avery’s spot and Noah came over to me. The man didn’t even attempt to struggle.

“We have to get that gun out of here.” I began looking around the floor by the sofa.

“Gun?” Noah was practically sitting on the man’s arm.

I saw the gun’s black handle near Jared’s foot. “Don’t move.” I didn’t want to pick it up. I’d never held a gun, and I was terrified that I would handle it wrong and it would go off. I nudged the gun with my foot. It was so light that it skidded into a corner. “It’s fake.”

“You sure?” Jared asked.

I knelt down and grabbed the handle. “I’m sure. It’s plastic.” I felt a fast rush of relief. Even if this guy got away, at least he couldn’t shoot us.

“Call 911,” I said to Avery as I handed her the toy weapon. “I’m going to check on William.”

But it was William who was checking on us. He was standing in the entryway dressed in a blue bathrobe, looking confused. “I heard yelling.”

“It’s okay. Everything’s fine.” I tried to guide him back to his room, but he was focused on the strange scene taking place on his sofa. “I know you,” he said to the man. “You were there when I fell.”

“That’s the man who attacked you,” I whispered.

“Attacked?” William took a wobbly step forward. “I wasn’t attacked. I felt a pain in my chest and I fell. He was all the way across the cemetery when it happened.” He furrowed his brow. “But why are you here now? And what were you doing on my property?”

The man shifted slightly in his seat, which made Jared and Noah automatically tighten their grip. “I need to talk with you.”

“You look so familiar.” William took another step, but I could tell it was difficult for him so I went to his side and put my arm under his.

“I should look familiar.” The man sighed. “I’m family.”

“That’s impossible.”

For the first time, I saw more than fatigue in the man’s face. I saw a flicker of anger. He sneered. “You wish it was impossible.”

“Who are you?” William was leaning on me. His left hand was shaking and I knew he needed to sit down. This was too much for him. I nodded at Avery, and she came over and helped me walk William over to a chair across the room. We stood on either side of him like guards. If the stranger sitting on the sofa so much as flinched, I would make sure William was safe, and I knew Avery was thinking the same thing.

“My name is Jeremiah Pickett.”

The name was oddly familiar to me. Then I remembered: it was the name etched on one of the tombstones. On my first visit to the cemetery, William had told me it was the grave of one of his ancestors, a young Civil War soldier who died in battle.

Jeremiah was watching William’s face like he was waiting for him to recognize the name. When William didn’t say anything, Jeremiah continued.

“He didn’t die childless like everyone thought. Which makes me your cousin. And we have family business to discuss.”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” William said. His voice was soft and strained.

“The police are on their way,” Avery said. “You can discuss things with them.”

Jeremiah looked past us. His eyes focused on something in the hallway. “I’m trying,” he whispered. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Who are you talking to?” Noah asked.

“He’s right there,” Jeremiah said. “You see him, don’t you? Standing in the doorway?”

It was a diversion, a trick to get us all to look at the same time so he could try to break free. Noah and Jared didn’t fall for it. Neither did Avery. But I turned my head so I could see what Jeremiah was talking about.

I didn’t see anything at first. The hallway was dark, the kitchen lights turned off. It was dark. Against that darkness, though, I thought I saw a curl of white smoke. It was faint, like a
puff of breath against a cold winter’s night. But it was something. Wasn’t it? I didn’t feel a cold breeze or obvious presence, but something about the mist was unsettling to me.

“Do you see him?” Jeremiah’s eyes were wide, his eyes unblinking as he stared at the space. “I’m trying!” he yelled. “I’m trying to fix this!”

“What is that?” Avery whispered. The little cloud of smoke had become a more visible shade of white.

“It’s him! He won’t let me sleep until I take back what’s his.” Jeremiah began to struggle in Noah’s and Jared’s hold. “Give it back to me!” His wild eyes were fixed on William. “Give it all back!”

Behind his frantic screams I could hear the distant wail of a police siren. Help would be here in minutes. The white cloud was still there, hovering in the hallway. Noah noticed it. I saw him cast a confused glance in its direction before trying to reposition himself on the sofa. Jeremiah was thrashing, but it seemed like he was trying to curl up, to shield himself from the ball of pale mist.

“He’s been visiting me for years,” Jeremiah whimpered. “He says I’m his great-great-grandson, and it’s up to me to restore his memory. He won’t let me rest until I do it. You have to help me.”

Red and blue lights flashed outside. “Everything’s okay now,” I told William. He was watching Jeremiah with a strange mix of wonder and fear.

Avery opened the door for the two police officers, who quickly placed Jeremiah in handcuffs. My parents arrived a minute later, followed by Shane and Trisha. Trisha sobbed as she hugged Noah, then cupped his face in her hands and made him promise a hundred times that he was all right. Mom was the same way with me. She didn’t cry, but her wide eyes told me that she was about to. Dad and Shane were more stoic, immediately trying to assess the situation and speak with the officers.

It was a calm commotion. There were a lot of people talking, but it felt under control. We had to give statements to the police. They tried talking to Jeremiah, but he simply closed his eyes and refused to speak.

“Did you see it?” Avery asked me. “The misty cloud thing?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think it was, you know, a real ghost?”

Jeremiah was curled up on the sofa, his arms behind his back. It looked like he was sleeping. “He thought it was,” I said.

Mom walked over to us. “Well, this has been quite an eventful Halloween.” She rubbed my shoulder. “How are you doing?”

“Fine. Tired.” I
was
tired, but not exactly fine. My pulse was still racing, and I felt jumpy.

“We’ll leave as soon as the police are finished here.”

“How was the morgue?” Avery asked. Then she giggled, almost hysterically. “I’ve never asked anyone that before.”

Mom smiled. “We have a lot of artifacts to catalog. The child’s coffin wasn’t really a coffin at all.”

“What was it?” I asked.

“It was a storage box filled with papers and documents. And this.” She showed us a small leather book. The brittle pages were yellowed with age and filled with tiny, neat handwriting. “It’s the journal of Jeremiah Pickett. We think everything we found in the coffins belonged to
him, that he was hiding weapons and information from Confederate troops. This journal will probably help explain everything.”

“And maybe it will help him.” I motioned toward Jeremiah. Now that he was safely subdued, I was feeling calmer. But I was angry, too. It didn’t matter that the gun was a fake. He had threatened us, made us feel fear. “He said he had to restore his ancestor’s memory,” I said. “The book might help do that.”

“I hope so.” Mom sighed. “I’m going to talk to William. Shane’s staying here tonight. We should be able to go home in a few minutes.”

“I’m going to say goodbye to Jared,” Avery said. As soon as she left my side, Noah came over.

“I’m wondering if I should thank you,” he said.

“Thank me for what?” He was the one who had helped restrain Jeremiah. I should have been thanking him.

He grinned. “For throwing the craziest Halloween party I’ve ever been to.”

“I do my best.” I yawned. “I’m so ready for bed.”

“Me too.” He paused. “You saw the mist thing, right?”

“Yes. So did Avery.”

Noah shook his head. “My life has been a lot more interesting since I met you, Charlotte.”

“Is that a compliment?” I hoped it was.

“It’s the truth.” He smiled. “And a compliment.”

As soon as the police had finished with us, we left. I fell asleep in the car, happy that Halloween was over. Everything could return to normal now, I thought. We had uncovered the secrets of the dead. Now they could rest.