The Discovery (19 page)

"That's a tall order," I say, wondering if I'm truly up to the task.

"We can do it, Kendall," Patrick says softly. "For Farah."

"What is she saying?" Celia asks, and I fill her and Becca in on the deets.

Becca harrumphs. "That's why the damn doll creeps me out so much."

"It's why it creeps everyone out," Celia corrects.

"Da man had to pay for his crimes to all da people, slave an' family alike," Althea says with such passion. "But now he had da power. I try ta stop him, but he too powerful. Massah's stronga than da
lou
dat went into the doll. I no leave dis place fer fear of what'll happ'n."

Loreen has been listening quietly but now she speaks up. "Althea, dear, my name is Loreen and I can see and hear you just like Kendall and Patrick. This story saddens me so because this attachment to your former master and the doll you lovingly made has kept your soul here, earthbound and enslaved by this man. We have to set all of you free. You, Farah, Farnsworth. You should pass into the light and be with your friends and family. Not be stuck here in ... this place."

Celia shakes her head and repeats what Patrick said earlier. "So, Phillip Farnsworth's soul is in this doll and he's the one that causes all the trouble anytime people see the exhibit and don't, what—treat him like the fine Southern master that he used to be?" She turns the doll in her arms and looks Xander right in the button eyes. "You're an ass!You need to get over it, dude!"

As soon as the words leave her mouth, the ground rumbles something fierce, and a sinkhole opens up right underneath Celia. A shriek tears from her throat as she loses her balance and Xander spills onto the floor. He lands on his two feet, and the smile on his cloth face isn't so much a smile but a smirk of pleasure. Celia's gangly arms and legs fly up in the air and she trips, staggers, and falls into the three-foot-wide fissure.

"Celia!" I yell.

"Help!"

Patrick dives to grab her hand as she hangs on to the pit's edge and struggles not to plummet in. "Hold on to me, Celia!"

Becca stoops to grab Celia's waist, and I get her other arm. "I've got you too."

Farah's in the background doing one of the RHS cheers about "hold that line" as we strive to save Celia.

"There's nothing under my feet," she calls out, dirt covering her black hair. "Something's pulling me."

"Quick," Becca says.

Loreen holds Becca and then she, Patrick, and I do a massive jerk to yank Celia out of this situation. It's like we're fighting something though, and I toss a defiant stare over my shoulder at that damned (literally!) doll.

"Oh, we'll take care of you in a minute for doing this to my friend."

"Go, Kendall; go, Patrick; go, Becca," Farah cheers.

One last humongoid tug by all of us, and Celia is up out of the gap, righted, and standing on terra firma again. Exasperated, Celia brushes the dirt off of her clothing. "That was
not
cool." Then she grabs the doll and glares at him. "Your ass is grass and I'm the lawn mower. I don't care if you are historical."

I place myself between Celia and Xander the Doll, wrenching him from her arms. "We have to do this a certain way. Calm down, Cel."

Her eyes enlarge. "Did you
not
just see what happened? That thing is evil.
E. V. I. L.
"

"I agree. And we're going to take care of it." I release her and put down the doll, then shove my hands into my hair and massage my skull as I try to figure out the best way to bring this sitch to a positive close. I'm not exactly sure how to handle it. There are three souls at unrest that need to move on. I let out a long sigh and feel the irritation of it all sting me. I glance at Loreen for guidance. "What do we have to do to fix all of this?"

With no hesitation, she says, "We need to do a spiritual re-lease."

"I don't know how to do that," I say.

Loreen takes my hand. "We'll do it together."

L
OREEN TUGS HER BAG OF MYSTICAL ITEMS
out of the tunnel behind her and begins to set up for the spiritual release.

"Do we need Father Mass?" I ask.

"No," Loreen assures me. "We'll be okay."

As Loreen is setting up candles, stones, and crystals on the floor, I turn to Althea. "Tell me more about the Underground Railroad."

"It be cuttin' right unda da massah's house and property."

"How many slaves were able to escape this way?" Celia asks.

"Oh, two or t'ree dozen."

"At least something good came out of this tunnel," Patrick says. "Althea, I'm sorry you had to suffer the way you did after all you did for the children of the family."

She smiles and lowers her eyes.

Farah bounds up to me. "So what are we going to do now?" She's so excited, like an overactive puppy at my feet.

"We're going to do our damnedest to get the spirit of Phillip Farnsworth to leave that doll."

She claps her hands. "Oh, goody! Then Althea and I can go, right?"

I feel a faint smile lift my lips. "That's all I want for you, Farah."

Loreen lights the end of her smudge stick and begins waving the putrid-smelling burned sage around the room. "There's too much pain, negativity, and suffering here."

Celia waves off the wisps of smoke. "We're all going to die from asphyxiation."

"Shhhh!"

We all circle together and sit, per Loreen's instructions. Patrick to my left; Celia to my right. We hold hands, close our eyes, and say the Lord's Prayer for protection. When I open my eyes, I see Farah and Althea standing behind our circle, watching.

Xander the Doll, or rather the physical home of the soul of Phillip Farnsworth, sits in the middle of the circle. "He looks so innocent. Yet he has done nothing but cause pain for people."

"Just like when he was alive; Phillip Farnsworth was a real sadist," Patrick notes.

"Let's all concentrate on the doll," Loreen instructs. "We're here to deal with the issues of grief and loss in this space, of the wounds inflicted upon the slaves and the children of the Farnsworth house and the trauma they may have carried throughout their lives. So unhealthy for anyone in that situation. Such negative energy built up, causing stress, fatigue, chakra blockage, even confusion and emotional and physical pain. We call upon the angels to guide us in our work here to free the trapped souls and lead them to a higher plane."

The energy in the room shifts. Not exactly sure how to describe it, other than it's thick and heavy and hangs above me like it wants to drop and smash me. I protect myself in God's holy light, surrounding myself and my friends in a white bubble that nothing can penetrate.

"Come out of this doll, Phillip Farnsworth," Loreen says firmly, her voice deep and commanding. "Show yourself to us."

"The temperature just dropped twenty degrees," Celia notes, her thermometer in front of her. Her EMF detector is flashing vibrant red, indicating a strong energy.

"Phillip Farnsworth. You have a lot to answer for," Loreen says. "You have a lot of negative emotions that you need to own up to."

My throat constricts and I find it hard to swallow. The normal
tap-tap-tap
of my psychic headache is more like a jackhammer pounding into cement. I wince at the throbbing that also causes my eyes to twitch out of control. "You have a lot to answer for," I say, wondering where the words are coming from. "You've lived a life and afterlife of anger, shame, hurt, judgment, sadness, pain, and torture. You're a bad person, Mr. Farnsworth."

Celia and Becca gasp together and I jump. Xander the Doll falls over onto his side in the middle of the circle.

"He hears us," Loreen notes. "Phillip Farnsworth, we are here to release your spirit from this doll. You have free will to leave it and pass on to the light, where you belong. There, you will be surrounded by your loved ones and those who passed before you. All you have to do is call out to them."

Patrick speaks. "We also send you our energy to cleanse this area, this house, and all those who've passed through this tunnel to freedom. We pray for the spirits that are trapped here and hope you'll find your peace too."

"Amen," Celia says.

I frown at her. "Not yet."

The iciness in the room increases, and we can all see our breath in front of us. Chill bumps cover my arms and my legs underneath my jeans.

Celia's teeth start chattering. "It's ridiculously cold in here."

"Something is definitely happening," Loreen says.

Patrick glances about. "Is that you, Mr. Farnsworth? Are you causing this? Why don't you show yourself to us? Or are you going to hide inside this doll for all of eternity?"

A sharp blast of wind whips up from the floor and encircles us. It's stiff and bitter, filled with the souls of those who died here at the hand of this monster. The breeze takes on a cloudy haze as it surrounds us in a whiplash of power. Dirt blows all around the room, and I squint to see through the particles. My hair is flying about behind me and I feel as though something wants to push me to the floor. I resist, though, fighting off the heaviness by sitting tall and holding on to Celia's and Patrick's hands.

"We're not leaving, Mr. Farnsworth!" I scream.

The floor starts shaking again, and rocks and clods of clay tumble from the walls.

"I'm scared," Becca admits.

"Don't be," Loreen tells her. "Be strong, Becca. We all have to be."

The spirits continue to circle, hands, arms, and fingers reaching out in search of—what? The bitter wind spins around us in a hurricane of pressure. The negativity level within this cave is blatant and I feel my heart will beat straight out of my chest.

Then Xander falls over again, flat this time. The earth shifts beneath him, and the air lashes around him, pulling him up off the ground in a tornado effect.

"Oh my God!" Celia exclaims. She tries to drop my hand to reach for the video camera.

"Don't break the connection," I snap.

"But this is
actual
poltergeist activity and I
have
to get it on film."

"We have to pass these spirits on," I say.

"Phillip Farnsworth, in the name of God, I pray for your trapped soul and wish you nothing but happiness and peace," Loreen says, even though we all know that the man doesn't deserve such a kind blessing.

Althea's eyes are wide, but she doesn't seem surprised at what we're witnessing. Xander rises about a foot off the floor and spins around in the air. Suddenly, the loudest noise I've ever heard in my life peals out. It's a combination of a firehouse siren and a bobcat screaming. The wailing rattles my bones and freezes my blood in place. The noise is horrendous, as if someone is being torn limb from limb.

"Leave this doll!" Loreen shouts out over the piercing howl. "Now!"

"I want to cover my ears," Becca says, tears escaping her eyes.

Patrick says, "No! Hold tight."

We're all caught up in the airstream whizzing around us. The whiteness of the mist surrounding us tunnels up to the ceiling and around the room. I don't know whether to follow its path or squeeze my eyes shut from it. It's like that scene in
Raiders of the Lost Ark
when they open the Ark of the Covenant and all of the spirits soar out and melt the faces of the Nazis. I certainly don't want that to happen. I've seen enough skeletal remains for one lifetime.

A roar echoes throughout the chamber. "My house!"

"Is that you, Phillip? Show yourself if you can," I say.

The bellow increases and the walls shake again. "My house! Get out!"

Patrick looks into the swirling mist. "
You
need to get out. We are releasing you from this object. Go into the light."

"There is no light for me!" the voice growls.

Xander the Doll comes crashing to the ground and we're all tossed backwards, breaking our circle of joined hands. A flash of vibrant white explodes from the ground. The figure of a man shoots out and hangs overhead.

"Dat's the master," Althea cries.

"What? What's going on?" Celia asks, sitting up. She and Becca can't see the bedlam surrounding us.

"Loreen, you did it!" I say.

"You're free, Phillip Farnsworth. Now leave this house and go into the light," Patrick shouts.

"There is no light for me!" the voice of the figure repeats gruffly. "Damn you! Damn you for doing this!"

From the hole in the floor, black shadows slip out and envelop the space. Caped arms enclose the specter of Phillip Farnsworth and he lets out a bloodcurdling scream. A chill like I've never felt before covers me and I'm paralyzed from the waist down. Blackness overtakes the room and grasps at Farnsworth's spirit. He struggles and fights, not wanting to go, but they pull him down, down, down with them into the earth, into the dark, and the mist follows all of them into the ground in a long
hissssssssss.

I put my hands to my mouth at the realization of what's just occurred. "Did he just..."

"Get pulled into hell," Patrick finishes.

"There was no light for him," Loreen says, righting herself.

"The temperature is going back to normal," Celia says. She turns to me. "We just missed something really awesome, didn't we?"

I hold on to her arm. "I'll tell you later. I don't know if I'd describe it as
awesome
though."

She shakes her head. "You psychics get to see all the cool stuff."

Shuddering, I say, "I wouldn't call it
cool
either."

I lift the now-lifeless body of Xander the Doll off the floor, dusting off the dirt. I cradle him gently in my arms and kiss him on the head. "Thanks for protecting Robert from his father's abuse. Now you're just a toy again. An old, old toy from a world long gone. You're not going to hurt anyone anymore or jinx them or curse them."

I withdraw the vial of holy water and sprinkle it on Xander's head. I hand the antique back to Celia, who takes him cautiously. Then I turn to the remaining two spirits.

"It's time for you to go now."

"I don't want no endin' like dat," Althea says in a shaky voice.

"You won't, Althea. You're special. You protected the innocent and gave your own life for them. You deserve peace."