Spirit Mountain (3 page)

Chapter Six

“Can I see it?” Logan reached out and carefully slid it from my hands. He read: “We were ordinary folks who moved into these parts in 1872. My brother was the kindest soul you’d ever meet. On his seventeenth birthday, he told the town mayor that his daughter was going to die in twenty-one days. When it happened, they blamed him. Twenty-one days after my brother turned seventeen, the townsmen took him to the mountain east of here, and I never saw my brother again—not in the way that one might see someone in flesh and body anyway. But Ty would visit me in my dreams and share his aspirations with me. That is, until three years ago, when he stopped coming to me.”

“Logan,” I interrupted, “when was the first dream reported by anyone else in this town?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s find it and see if it matches up with this article.”

As the clock struck ten, my aunt knocked on the door and tried to turn the knob. I had locked the door and managed to muffle a call out to her, “Sleeping.”

“All right, I’m just making sure you’re okay in there.”

“Thank you, Aunt Vine.” We heard the floorboards creak as she moved down the hallway toward her bedroom.

Turning our attention back to the boxes in front of us, we dug through more sheets of old, faded papers. We became immersed for hours. As the night escaped and the light of dawn started to creep up over the horizon, Logan held up a wrinkled newspaper. “I found something.”

I rubbed my tired eyes and glanced up at him. “What does it say?”

“It’s dated three years before the old woman’s article about her brother. A woman checked herself into the town hospital and said she’d had a disturbing dream about a boy with dark eyes.”

My eyes lit up. “That’s Ty!”

“Right? But it says here that the doctor treated her for a fever and she went home.” Logan smirked. “Get on your laptop and let’s see if there are any records that will tell us when this lady died.”

“How do I access any online information about this story, though? The librarian said it’d all been blocked.”

Logan smiled. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way. She’s my grandma, remember? The password is Logan_Hall_COD.”

“Your name? Kind of a simple guess, no? But what’s COD?”

“Call of Duty. She knows I’m a huge fan.”

I chuckled. “Boys will be boys.” I clicked my keypad, entered the password and successfully logged into the Castleborough library records. I typed in the woman’s name. “It worked. She died in 1930.”

“So, Ty visited her in her dreams, but she survived?” Logan’s mind raced as he rubbed his face. “I got it.”

“What?”

“Could he have warned her?”

“But how? Why?”

“He warned the mayor’s daughter, right? Maybe he was clairvoyant, but the townspeople saw that as witchcraft.”

I nodded, pulling my legs up to my chest with my back resting against the back of my bed. “I’m still confused. What does the rest of the article say that his sister wrote?”

Logan exhaled and continued reading. “I’m not sure what happened to my brother that day since no one would talk about it. But seeing as I couldn’t get to the top of the mountain, I’d be forever grateful if someone does find my brother’s remains so they can give him the burial he deserves. I know, without a doubt, that Ty was left there by the townspeople, and it breaks my heart that my brother has remained up there all alone for all these years. Do the right thing and bury my brother so his spirit can be free. Signed, Mary Abbott.”

I stood and sat back on my bed with my hands cupped over my mouth. My heart raced as the room around me spun like an out-of-control Ferris wheel. I leaned over to try and catch my breath, but I felt as if I might faint right there in front of Logan.

Logan stood. “What’s wrong?”

My breathing erratic, my frightened eyes bored into Logan’s.

“Beth, what’s wrong with you?”

“That’s my last name. She has
my
last name? Which means
he
has my last name. What are the odds of that?”

Logan dropped the article to the floor and took a step back. “It has to be a coincidence.”

I shivered. “My aunt’s name was Vine
Abbott
until she met my uncle. I don’t think this house ever left our family.” Tears rolled down my face. “Do you know what this means?”

“It means that Ty Abbott is your distant relative. It also means that…” Logan ran a hand through his brown hair. “It means that we’re going to the top of that mountain to bury him, doesn’t it?”

I nodded, trembling from the inside out.

C
hapter Seven

At some point during the early hours, Logan and I both dozed off. He used his jacket as a pillow on the floor and I had read through some additional articles before finally giving in to the heaviness of my eyelids. I didn’t want to sleep. I thought that just maybe if I stayed awake, Ty wouldn’t visit me in my dream and I would have bought myself more time. Not the case.

His dark eyes haunted me again. This time, I paid closer attention to my surroundings in the dream. It first appeared that I stood at my window, but then, I stood on the top of the mountain, snowflakes falling on my hair. Ty knelt fifty feet from me as he gazed pleadingly up at the individuals who stood around him.

I’d never seen this part of the dream. Each time he’d visited me, I only saw a close-up of his face. But this time, I stood at a distance, watching a scene unfold. My heart raced for him with a trembling inside that made me want to call out to the men who stood over him and tell them to stop. Something pushed me to do just that, knowing they wouldn’t hear me.

I stepped forward, my heart aching for Ty. I yelled, “Stop!”

The townspeople turned toward me.
They heard me?
I sucked in my breath and thrust myself straight up into a sitting position on my bed as my eyes opened. I glanced around my room. It took me a few minutes to gather my bearings. When Logan sat up, rubbing his neck, he squinted up toward me and murmured, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

I glanced at the time.
6:00 a.m.
“Logan, you have to go. Everyone in my house will be awake in an hour.” I jumped off my bed, grabbed the papers spread out everywhere and threw them in the box.

Logan swiped his jacket from the back of my desk chair, tied his shoes and ran a hand through his brown hair. “Are you okay?”

“I am.”

“You had the dream again, didn’t you?”

“I did.” I shoved the box of papers into his arm and moved to the window to open it. “Call me later.”

“Wait. We need to discuss what we found out last night.”

“I know. Later. Right now, you have to get out of here.”

With one leg out the window and the other on its way, Logan stopped, leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. His lips were warm and soft and the random gesture shocked me. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I nodded and smiled. In reality, I had no idea what
he
could
do to stop my death in five days, but I sure wasn’t going to discredit his desire to help. “Call me this afternoon. We have a lot to figure out.”

His grin made my heartbeat quicken. Logan tossed the boxes onto the soft snow before he climbed over the small balcony and managed to grab a nearby tree branch as he shimmied down the tree. I watched him pick up the boxes, take off through the snow and head around the corner toward his truck.

When he was out of sight, I jumped in the shower, got dressed and went to the kitchen for breakfast.

Uncle Ernie poured himself a bowl of Lucky Charms. “Good morning, Beth.” He didn’t look up from his bowl.

“Good morning, Uncle Ernie.” I reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a loaf of bread and a carton of orange juice. I spread some Nutella over two slices of toast and joined him at the kitchen table. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” He took his bowl to the table and sat.

I sat on top of my folded leg. “How long has this house been in our family? In my father’s family?”

“I believe since it was built in 1802. Of course, it’s been renovated over the years and relatives in the past added plumbing and electricity.” He shoveled Lucky Charms into his mouth, smacking as he ate.

“Do you know if the room I’m sleeping in was always a bedroom or was it an add-on to the house at some point?”

“From what your aunt told me, this place hasn’t changed except for the modern appliances. Which is probably why you hear those awful creaks in the night.”

I laughed. I’d heard them, but I was used to hearing a house settle in the cold weather. I wondered if Uncle Ernie knew of anything else that might tie the house to Spirit Mountain. “I, um, was wondering if anything weird has ever happened in my room? I mean, someone at school told me that my bedroom is the only one in this whole town that has a window facing the unspeakable mountain out yonder.”
Did I just say ‘yonder’?
I chuckled inwardly.

Uncle Ernie shook his head. “No, not that I can think of. Your aunt has used that room for her dolls for as long as I can remember.” He hesitated, a spoonful of cereal midair on its way to his mouth. “There is one strange thing, though.” He spoke in a muffled voice as he chewed on the crunchy cereal.

“Can you share it with me?” I was anxious to hear what he had to say. At this point, everything and anything could be a clue to figuring out this legend. Even something as simple as my room having some strange anomaly.

“Your aunt used to put her most prized doll up on the bay window shelf facing the mountain. Sort of like a showcase of her favorite, and each morning when she’d go inside to open the drapes, the doll would be gone.”

“Gone?”

“Yes, disappeared without a trace.”

I laughed. “Maybe she forgot to put the doll on the windowsill. Is that possible?”

“No.”

“Maybe the dolls fell with the wind?”

“Doubtful.”

I could tell he wanted to tell me more, but was sworn to some kind of secrecy. “Uncle, what happened? Please tell me. I sleep in that room and I don’t want to worry each night that
I
might disappear.” I sort of dramatized my fear to get him to talk, giving him my sweetest puppy face.

Uncle Ernie leaned forward, smacking and swallowing his last bite of cereal. “We put a camera in the room.”

I narrowed my eyes.
What the heck?

“It’s not there anymore, don’t worry. But we put a camera in the room and placed a doll on the windowsill. Precisely at 7:00 a.m., 2:00 p.m. and 9:00 p.m., whatever doll was on the window that day would disappear before our very eyes.”

“Where did they go?”

He shrugged, taking one last swig of his coffee before moving his saucer and mug into the sink. “No one knows. We stopped putting things on that windowsill, though, and her dolls have never disappeared since.”

“How does that not creep you out?”

“Who said it didn’t?”

I shook my head. “Was that window always a part of the house or was it added on at some point?”

He shrugged, running his fingers over his mouth. “No idea, my dear. You’ll have to ask your aunt about that. I’m going to be late for work. Enjoy your first day of winter break,” he said on his way out the door.

I glanced at the clock. It read: 6:50. My mind raced. Sitting alone at the kitchen table, I wondered if I should sit on the windowsill and see if I disappeared—take my chances and see where that possible anomaly would take me. The attempt was risky. What if it only took small things and crushed me when it pulled me under? What if it only worked on plastic dolls? A million thoughts went through my head, but within two minutes, I had decided that I would risk it all to find out. Taking the stairs two at a time, I ran toward my bedroom.

At first, I paced, watching the clock.
Should I? Where would it take me? What if I can’t get back?
My thoughts circled back to how stupid I sounded.
Things don’t just disappear, Beth. Stop being a scared child and prove your aunt and uncle wrong.

With three minutes to spare, I sat on the windowsill with my back against the part of the wall that stuck out. I turned my head to the left and stared out at the snow-covered mountain. With my cell phone in my hand, I dialed Logan’s number, but reached his voicemail. So I left a quick, probably strange message: “Logan, it’s Beth. I think it might be my windowsill. I’ll let you know when I get back.”

I was about to press the hashtag symbol on my phone to get the prompt to mark the call “urgent” when I noticed I could see through my hand. My heart raced, my trembling hand dropped the phone, and the next thing I knew, I was sitting in a heap of body parts.

Chapter Eight

Okay, so they weren’t body parts, thank goodness. Once I realized that the arms and legs tugging at my sleeves and pants were actually baby dolls, I sighed my relief. They’d inadvertently wrapped into the material of my clothes and tugged on me like desperate babies trying to get back to my aunt.

“Where in the heck am I?” The sound of a waterfall echoed in the distance. An abnormally large tree stood in front of me, its roots sticking out of the ground by at least fifteen inches. A shrub with small glowing white flowers shone like tiny stars in a darkened sky. No longer was there any snow, but instead, the beauty of a mythical land. Enchanted, even.

I stood still, taking in everything about my new surroundings, including the minute details—the way the air smelled like apple pie and how the butterflies danced in the sky like colors of the rainbow. This place was a stark contrast to the winter weather of Castleborough and yet, wasn’t it just outside my window? My brows furrowed as I tried to understand.

“What is this place?” I glanced down at the dolls now at my feet. “These must be all of Aunt Vine’s favorite dolls.” My heart raced.
Is this place some kind of portal? Like in scary ghost stories?

Even more intriguing about this place, its colors were different than the earth I knew. Its insects were intriguing and its trees otherworldly. Each step I took away from the dolls meant I was another step away from the area that would take me back home.

Yet, I had to know—had to find out what this place was and why there was a gateway in my room to get me here. The sound of my own heartbeat filled my ears. My breathing grew erratic and I clenched my hands at my sides. I carried on, placing one shaky step in front of the next.

I heard something move. My heart leapt and I took a step back. From the corner around a tree, I saw him—the guy I thought was Ty. I inched toward him, uncertain what he’d do to me. I rubbed my eyes in disbelief.
How could I see a spirit? How could I be standing in the same realm as someone who died a hundred years ago?

“Am I dead?” I muttered to myself.

The closer I moved to the tree, the more I noticed how familiar he seemed—not just from my dreams, but from my family. Ty had similar eyes to my father’s—dark and close-set, but my father’s eyes were blue.

Without warning, he darted out from behind the tree ran toward me. I froze. My legs wanted to run the other way, but I couldn’t move a muscle. Why was he coming at me? I threw up my hands. “I’m not here to hurt you. Please!”

He grabbed my arm and pulled me with him toward the tree. I could feel him—his fingers wrapped around my wrist. He felt real. Once we stood behind the huge tree, he turned on me. “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh.” I didn’t know what to say. Where was
here
? He could see me, touch me, talk to me, and yet, he was a spirit. “Am I dead?”

“No,” he whispered. “Keep your voice down.”

I glanced around at the serene setting. When I gazed back at Ty, something prompted me to reach out and touch his face. He seemed shocked as my fingers trailed down the side of his cheek. “Are you alive, then?”

“No. I am dead. But I’m trapped.”

I stared at him through stunned eyes. “Trapped? What do you mean?”

“Here... in this place.”

“And me? Am I trapped here now?”

“No, Beth. You’re not.”

I nearly screeched. “How do you know my name?”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Beth, you don’t know yet?” He appeared shocked.

“Know what?”

“About your gift.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, staring at the boy who’d died nearly a hundred years ago. Things were beginning to shock me less and less.
A gift? What gift could he be talking about?

“No, what gift?”

He grabbed my arm as a loud growl came from somewhere in the vast forest behind us. “We have to move.”

“What is that?”

“It’s
him
.”

“Wait! Wait.” I pulled my arm from his hand. “I can’t leave. I need to go back. If I get lost, I won’t find my way back.”

“I won’t let you get lost, Beth.” His eyes were soft and loving. Nothing about him stood out to me that he might be a killer. How could he be? He seemed so gentle and kind. “The window to leave will reopen in fifteen minutes. What I need to tell you, I will tell you quickly, and then you must go. We haven’t much time before he arrives.”

“Who’s this
he
?”

“He’s an angry spirit, evil and conniving.”

“I don’t understand.”

Ty grabbed my arms. “Listen to me. Every few generations, in our bloodline, there is one of us who has the ability to see into the future—to know what’s going to happen to others. A hundred years ago, I had that gift. Now you have the gift, too. It materializes six months before we turn seventeen years old. You’ve blocked it out because of your mother’s death.” He shook his head. “But Beth, you saw her die
before
she died.”

I gasped. How did he know about my mother, about the dream I had that showed me exactly how she’d die the very next day? I hadn’t told anyone, not even my own father. “No, you can’t possibly know that.”

“Beth, please.”

I didn’t want to hear anymore. They were lies and trickery and somehow, Ty had found a way into my brain and he was manipulating me. Either that, or I was in denial. Truth was, I’d seen that plane crash in my dream, the night before Dad and I had dropped off Mom at the airport. She’d kissed us goodbye and told us she loved us.
Her last words.
Thinking back to that painful memory, my heart sank in my chest. I’d never forgiven myself for not telling Mom about my premonition, for not stopping her from getting on that flight. I hated myself now for thinking it was just the dream of a silly girl who was nervous about flying. I should’ve warned my mother.

The forest roared again, echoing as leaves and branches fell behind us. When Ty whipped his head around to see how close the sound was, I took off as fast as I could toward the pile of dolls on the grass. Recalling Uncle Ernie’s words, I knew I had a window—the portal opened seven hours apart.

As my watch struck 2:00 p.m. and the alarm sounded, I dove across the dolls and landed on the plush softness of my bed. I sat up, patting my body to make sure I was alive before scanning my room. Panting, I noticed my cell phone on the floor where I had dropped it.

The first thought that flooded my mind was,
Did that really just happen?
At the same time, my phone rang.