The Spirit Room (52 page)

“
On their own?”

“
I think so.”

“
Isabelle?” Wearing a blue wool night robe and cap, Mrs. Fielding rushed across the room. She embraced Izzie and kissed one side of her face, then the other. “What are you doing here, my dear?”

“
I need your help. Clara and my other sister, Euphora, have disappeared. I have to find them.”

“
Of course we will help you,” Mrs. Fielding said. “Of course, but we are leaving on a one month tour the day after tomorrow.”

The need to sit overwhelmed Izzie. She stepped back and fell onto the sofa. Anna and Mrs. Fielding followed her and sat close on either side of her. Izzie untied her bonnet and removed it, settling it on her lap. Shivers were running wild down through her legs and back up.

“
What is it dear?”

Izzie turned toward the husky voice. It was a smiling, short man in a blue wool night robe, a masculine version of Mrs. Fielding’s. He was round with a full brown beard, crinkles at the sides of his brown eyes, and a large red wart on the bridge of his nose. Mrs. Fielding introduced her husband, Roland, and explained to him who Izzie was and why she’d arrived. Izzie was surprised there was a Mr. Fielding. She’d always thought of Mrs. Fielding as a widow.

“
Well, then. Are you hungry? You must be hungry after your journey,” he said.

“
Famished.”

“
I’m off to the kitchen, then. I’ll pile you up a plate.” Grinning, Roland Fielding left them.

“
You must stay here. As long as you like. Mr. Fielding and Katie, our cook, will look after you and you can stay in Anna’s room.” Her pale red and silver hair flowing down nearly to her elbows, Mrs. Fielding looked across to Anna. “That’s all right, isn’t it?”

“
Yes. Yes. And tomorrow we’ll go over the kinds of places you might start looking.” Anna squeezed Izzie’s hand. “You know…it’s a huge city.” Her tone was gentle, but warning.

Grateful and relieved, Izzie took a deep breath. She’d have a place to stay.

While she ate the potatoes and cold roast beef brought in by Mr. Fielding, she filled Anna and Mrs. Fielding in on the past months and days. She explained about Mac’s Upper Falls Water-Cure Institute and how dedicated he was to it and how it was about to open and how she couldn’t expect him to leave and come to New York City. She told them of Mrs. Purcell’s death and her fears about Papa’s cruelty to Billy and the girls, but she did not tell them about Mrs. Beattie’s suspicions, nor did she mention her wakeful nights or the voices she’d heard or the water-cure treatments Mac had been giving her. She was too tired. She knew they’d latch onto the notion of the voices as proof of her potential as a Spiritualist and that would lead to something else, something she couldn’t think about. All she wanted to think about was finding Clara and Euphora and if there was the smallest chance Anna or Mrs. Fielding had genuine gifts, Izzie wanted to make use of them.

“
Could I ask you to make a spirit circle for me tomorrow before you go? Can the spirits tell us where my sisters are?”

Anna put an arm around Izzie’s shoulders. “I don’t know, but I can try.”

<><><>

ON A SOFA IN MRS. FIELDING’S STUDY UPSTAIRS, Izzie restlessly slept through the night. The sofa wasn’t very comfortable, too short and lumpy, and the room was a chaotic whirlwind of papers, books, and journals stacked randomly on the desk and floor. Piles of journals called
The Spiritual Clarion, Spiritual Age, Banner of Light, Spiritual Telegraph
, and
The Sunbeam
made a semi-circle on the floor around the desk chair. It was such a mess there was scarcely room to walk from one point to another. She felt the urge to read a volume or two, but she was too drained.

She hadn’t expected to sleep at all, certain her voices would find her even in New York City, but her voices had left her alone. A blessing. Even so, in the morning she felt sluggish and foggy as she dragged herself downstairs to breakfast. No one was in the small dining room. Katie, the Fielding’s Irish domestic, came in with some eggs and biscuits and explained in her brogue that everyone had eaten. Mrs. Fielding and Anna were upstairs packing their trunks.

Later in the parlor, Izzie drank warm coffee from a silver pot. By the third cup the fog had burned off from her mind, but now she was restless and nervous. As she paced about the room, she found paper and pen in a desk. Leaning over, she jotted down a telegram to Mac.

“
At home of Spiritualist Mrs. Adele Fielding. 231 West Twenty-Fifth Street, New York City. Mrs. Purcell dead. Billy ran off. Then sisters ran off too. Papa missing. Sheriff hunting Papa. Girls probably here. Must stay to find them.”

Then she sat down and fidgeted. These were precious moments. She should be out looking for Clara and Euphora, not sitting here waiting for Anna and Mrs. Fielding. Sheriff Swift’s advice,
the sooner, the better
, echoed in her mind. There was frost on the windows, but the sky was blue and the sun was shining brightly. Izzie sipped the dregs of her third cup of coffee and poured herself a fourth. The fire coals glowed red. She had been pampered since arriving at this house. But what about Clara and Euphora? Did they have food and hearth?

With shaking hands, Izzie lowered her cup to its saucer and set it aside. The girls could freeze to death if they were sleeping out in doorways or alleys. Why hadn’t she gone to Geneva sooner? Why? What had Papa done to them to make them do something so drastic?
Land sakes
. Had Sam Weston really done what Mrs. Beattie said he did?”

Mr. Fielding swept into the room. “Good news, Isabelle. Mr. Fielding has an acquaintance at the Children’s Aid Society and he can take you there today. They know more about missing children than anyone in the city.”

“
Thank you.” Izzie stood and approached Mrs. Fielding. “I have written a telegram for my husband.”

“
Roland can help you with that, too.”

“
May we try contacting the spirits now? Is Anna finished her packing?”

“
She’s coming down. Let’s go into the other parlor.” Mrs. Fielding strode to a pair of large mahagony doors and thrust them open.

As Izzie followed Mrs. Fielding into the next room, she remembered how Anna answered her verifying question during the spirit lessons over a year ago. Somehow Anna had known, or been told, about Clara being terrified by a white horse in their Ohio yard by moonlight. She said it was Mamma’s spirit that told her or spoke through her. Whatever it was, maybe it could tell her how to find her sisters now.

Mrs. Fielding’s second parlor was like their own Spirit Room in Geneva, but far more elegant. With just one shaft of brilliant sunshine cutting through a pair of slightly open maroon damask curtains, the room was dusky. The smell of lady’s perfumes and men’s cologne tickled Izzie’s nose. A large linen-covered round table with eight simple chairs sat solidly on a huge red and navy oriental carpet in the middle of the room. Countless chairs lined two of the walls and above them hung three long rows of daguerreotypes, portraits of men and women. An armoire and matching chest of drawers painted with white and yellow flowers were the only other furniture. She wondered if there were there trick bells in the walls and knockers in the floor like Papa had put in their Spirit Room.

“
I’m ready.” Smiling radiantly, Anna entered wearing a shimmering white silk reform dress. The short dress, which covered her trousers, was tailored like a man’s greatcoat. Very exotic, thought Izzie.

Mrs. Fielding closed the doors, then the curtains. She lit a single white candle on the table.

“
Let’s see who we can call on to help you, Izzie,” Anna said.

“
Can we call on my mother? Remember how she communicated in Geneva?”

“
I’ll try.”

Mrs. Fielding pulled three chairs some distance from the table, making a small circle. She stood behind one of them and Anna sat in it. Then she gestured to one of the other chairs, inviting Izzie to join.

Throwing her head backward, Mrs. Fielding brushed her hands through the air over Anna’s head, down her back, along her arms. She seemed to be petting Anna as she would a dog, but she never touched her, her palms drifting several inches above Anna. There was a routine to it, as though they’d done this many times before.

Anna, with a faint smile on her face, closed her eyes and began to breathe deeply. For a few more moments Mrs. Fielding kept at the petting motion and then Anna’s ceaseless smile finally drifted away and her face grew distant. Mrs. Fielding finished with her air-smoothing gestures and sat in the remaining chair. Taking Anna’s hand, she nodded, indicating that Izzie should pick up Anna’s other hand. Mrs. Fielding’s hand was small and cool while Anna’s was full and warm with a slight tingle running through it.

When Mrs. Fielding closed her eyes, Izzie did the same. Anna’s breathing was loud and slow. Izzie listened to carriages rattling by outside and then a series of thuds somewhere in the house, perhaps the trunks being brought downstairs. Muffled voices burbled on and off. A clock tick-tocked. More labored breathing from Anna. More carriages rattling. People talking out on the street. How long was Anna going to take to go into a trance anyway?

“
Someone is here. A man. He’s not familiar to me. He says he’s your grandfather.”

Izzie squeezed Anna’s hand. “I didn’t know either of my grandfathers. Which one?”

“
Father’s. His name is Grady?”

“
Gregory.”

“
He worked on a dairy farm in England. He was proud of his herd.”

“
Yes.” Izzie squirmed forward in her chair. “Papa told me that. Can he help me find Clara?”

“
Ask him.”

Izzie swallowed. “Grandfather, where are my sisters?”

“
They are not harmed.”

“
Where are they?”

“
Everyone is gone. Sons and daughters. Husbands and wives.”

“
But where?”

“
Some far. Some close. Some here. Your mother is here.”

“
Now? Is she there with you, now? Mamma?”

“
No, not here.”

What on earth did that mean? Here, not here. Izzie jiggled her knee up and down a few times, but realized it was disrupting the calm of the circle and stopped.

“
How can I find Clara and Euphora?”

“
They are with you.”

“
Try to be specific, Isabelle,” Mrs. Fielding said.

“
He’s gone.” Anna’s voice sounded scratchy. She held still a moment. “Izzie, ask for your mother to speak.”

Izzie’s hand grew clammy inside Anna’s, which now felt inflamed. “Mamma, can you speak to me?”

More silence. Izzie jiggled her knee once, but stopped immediately.

“
Go on, Henry. Not today.” Anna sounded stern. “We don’t have time for you. We want Isabelle’s mother. No…Maybe later…This is urgent. Please.” She squeezed Izzie’s hand. “I’m sorry, Izzie. He’s very annoying most of the time. I can’t seem to get rid of him.”

Anna resumed breathing deeply again. This time it felt like a half hour. Izzie wanted to dash out into the streets and scream out, “Clara, Euphora! I’m here! Where are you?” Maybe by some fluke, some stray chance, they’d hear her. She sighed. No, that was ridiculous. Anna did truly seem to be communicating with spirits, but the message wasn’t helpful at all—a grandfather boasting about his cows and speaking broadly about the family. She had no use for that. Then there’s this Henry intruding on their efforts. Maybe the spirits were really there for Anna, but it was nothing but hogwash so far. And the day was passing by. Her sisters were out there somewhere.

“
In the gutter.” A man’s voice spoke clearly.

Izzie jerked back her hands. She glanced around. “What was that?”

There was no one else in the room. The candle on the table was flickering wildly as though catching a wind. Anna and Mrs. Fielding, eyes open now, watched her.

“
What was what?” Mrs. Fielding leaned toward Izzie.

“
I heard someone say ‘in the gutter’. Didn’t you hear it?”

Anna’s dark eyes met Mrs. Fielding’s, then she looked at Izzie. “That was a spirit speaking to you.”

“
No. No. It must have been someone outside on the street. I’m a little muddled today.”

“
Anna isn’t having much luck. It may be that the spirits don’t want to tell you where Clara and Euphora are. They have their ways.” Mrs. Fielding motioned toward the ceiling. “Would you like to try to communicate with this spirit you just heard?”