The Spirit Tree (2 page)

Memories flooded me as I placed my hand on top of my uncle’s. I remembered being a tiny girl and setting my hand against his, measuring my small fingers against his larger ones, marveling over how pale my skin looked next to his.

My green eyes searching his dark brown eyes, I’d ask, “Am I Cherokee?”

“About half, I reckon,” he’d reply.

I’d crinkle my nose and giggle. “Which half?”

“Your color is white, but your stubborn is all Indian.” He’d laugh in his deep, good-hearted way and kiss the tip of my nose.

I would have given my life to hear that laugh again. “I need you. Please stay with us.”

A soft sound filled the room—a whistled melody that reminded me of both nature and Uncle Charlie. I thought I was imagining it, until I recognized the tune. He whistled it while working in the yard, or when one of the tribe came for healing. I’d never asked about those visits, though I always knew he served as the tribe’s medicine man.

The fluorescents overhead flickered and hummed, causing my temples to throb. I pulled back the heavy drapes, and sunlight flooded the room. I would have opened the window, but it was bolted shut. At least I’d given him sunlight. I knew Charlie appreciated the effort.

The whistling began again. I focused on breathing.
Inhale, one, two. Exhale, one, two, three. Inhale one . . .
I’d seen spirits before, but never the spirit of someone I loved.

A fresh breeze caressed my cheek, and my eyes flew open. I couldn’t see the spirit as much as feel it. I closed my eyes again, and lips kissed the tip of my nose. “There you are.”

“And here you are, little flame.” Charlie’s voice sounded distant, nothing solid to hold on to. Still, it moved with life and warmth. “Your aunt and great-grandmother are in danger. Crows will come for my notebook, to learn my secrets. Our secrets. Go get my cedar box and take it to Dr. Hicks in Gainesville. He will help you.”

“I don’t understand. Who would want your box? What secrets?” I stopped talking and focused on the more important issue. “Don’t leave us. Please. You can’t die.”

“Some things cannot be changed; others can. Listen to me.”

A cold sweat broke out across my brow, and I felt faint. Maybe my blood sugar had bottomed out. I’d skipped dinner in favor of having a flat tummy during the roll in the hay with Ian. The added stress was causing me to hallucinate.

“Tessa, tell Dr. Hicks you’re my granddaughter.” His voice drifted, lost to alarms and beeps.

“What? Great-niece. You meant great-niece, right?”

Doctors and nurses filed in. Dottie clung to the door frame with Mae.

“Dottie?” I couldn’t move, let alone form a sentence.

A nurse ushered us into the hallway, directly into the crush of family. Someone shouted, “Tessa pulled the plug.” Others spoke all at once. By far, Darlene’s voice rang the loudest—my mother accusing me of killing my uncle.

“Come with me.” My great-grandmother tried to shield me from the mob. Dottie wrapped her arms around me, whispering calming words. I couldn’t breathe. I struggled free of the embrace and ran away from my mother’s acrid voice. No matter how far I ran, the continuous monotone beep of the monitor echoed in my ears.

I hit the ground floor in a blind panic. Ian had dropped me off, so I had no car, no way to get back to my apartment. In my rush to get to the hospital, I’d forgotten my purse and cell phone. I needed to think. I needed to be still, but my brain refused to cooperate. I ran out the glass doors and dropped onto a bench.

In the corner of my consciousness, I sensed people watching me.
It’s a hospital. People die here, and families cry and mourn. Big deal! Stare away.

I tried to make sense of Charlie’s warning. I remembered the heat rolling off the men waiting for the elevator. I bolted upright and surveyed my surroundings. Waiting outside didn’t seem prudent, all things considered. I marched to the welcome desk. “I forgot my phone and need to make a call. Please.”

The volunteer’s attitude hadn’t improved. The woman scowled and turned the phone toward me. The old woman made a point to watch as I dialed.

“Hailey, I’m at the hospital on Rollins Street. My uncle died, and I need a ride. Can you come get me, please?” I stopped listening after she said yes.

My gut told me to stay inside. The sane, educated side of me balked, craving sunshine. The entire ordeal had produced some sort of psychosomatic paranoia. Research showed that bereft loved ones often turned to magical thinking of ghosts and mediums in order to hold on to some part of their deceased loved ones. It seemed logical, but the textbooks didn’t account for the scope of sensations and emotions rolling through me.

I wandered toward the windows, telling myself I should look out for Hailey. I scanned the front walkways and the line of shrubs on the other side of the road. Every small movement drew my attention and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I waited for what felt like hours, preoccupied with looking for the boogeyman. I startled when Hailey waved from the other side of the window.

“Thanks for picking me up. Ian dropped me off, and I didn’t think about how I was going to get home. I hope this wasn’t too much trouble.” My words came out too fast.

“Tessa, chill. It’s not a problem.” Hailey put the car in drive. “Are you sure you want to go home?”

“Yeah, I need my car. I have to go take care of some things at my uncle’s.” I sank into the seat.

“I can go with you. I don’t have to be at work until morning.” Hailey reached over to pat my thigh. “Hell, I can call off. It’s not like they’re going to fire me.”

“No, I can’t imagine your dad firing you. Who else would put up with counseling spoiled rich kids?”

“Certainly not you. Seriously, when are you going to grow a maternal instinct?”

“Maybe when I’m thirty.”

Hailey grinned. “I’ll come in. I miss staying up all night talking with you.”

“Thanks, but I want to go alone. I think I need some quiet time to process all of this.”

“Right. Just don’t isolate yourself, or spend too much time with that crazy-ass mother of yours. Neither are healthy options.” Hailey shook her head.

“She was at the hospital. She accused me of pulling the plug.”

Hailey’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “What the hell? That woman makes Mommie Dearest look tame. What happened? I mean, what happened to Charlie?”

I turned toward the window. “Gram Mae called and said he had a heart attack and was on life support. I didn’t get any other details. The second I got there, they took me in to see him. Five minutes later, the machines started going crazy, and he was gone.”

“I’m sorry.” Hailey squeezed my hand.

“Something weird happened. I don’t know how to explain it. I knew something bad was going to happen today, and at the hospital—”

“You’ve always been freakishly intuitive. Tell me what happened.”

I admired Hailey. She was calm and even-keeled until she spat out a slew of curses that would’ve sent Gram Mae running for a bar of soap. Hailey gave the car in front of us the one-finger salute. The guy had almost run us off the road.

“Sorry, Tessa. Ever since I hit ten weeks, my hormones have been out of control.” As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Hailey went wide-eyed. “I planned to tell you. Scott made me promise to wait until after the first trimester. Some ridiculous superstition.”

I snapped my mouth shut. “So this is why you guys have been avoiding going to Fitzpatrick’s with me and Ian for happy hour. I thought you were blowing us off.”

“No, we’ve been avoiding going because we can’t stand Ian.” Hailey smirked.

“Hormones got your tongue again?”

“No, just the truth. The guy is a complete douche.”

“Seriously, Hailey, is that your professional diagnosis?” I snorted in laughter. “He is a douche, isn’t he?”

“You can do much better. I mean look at you? You’re like Jessica Rabbit, with your long red hair and curves. I’d kill for your figure.”

“You have to say that because you’re my friend. Try being five-two with D-cups.” I crossed my arms. “Boobs aren’t all their cracked up to be.”

“I wouldn’t know, but maybe mine will finally blossom now that I’m pregnant.”

I lost myself in my thoughts for the remainder of the drive. When we arrived at my building, Hailey parked outside and cut the motor. “Now that I have that off my chest, tell me what happened that was so weird.” She put on her professional face. “I can see it upset you.”

“Are you going to charge me for this session? I can’t afford your hourly rate.”

“Out with it.” Hailey grinned.

I debated telling her about the ghostly message from beyond, but Hailey never accepted anything except science. She would come up with some well-researched, clinical explanation. I needed to believe Charlie had reached out to me. Besides, if some sort of danger lurked about, I couldn’t put Hailey in harm’s way, pregnant or not.

“It’s the same old family drama, Hailey. Nothing new.” I smiled to cover my lie. “Thanks for the ride. I need to get going, and you need to get to home and put your feet up. Don’t forget, you’re growing a baby.”

After two minutes alone in my apartment, I wanted to call Hailey. The space felt too quiet, too dark, and too empty. Even after I turned on every light, I couldn’t shake my unease. I turned on the television, and the screen filled with coverage of the murdered mother and missing children.

The place needed a good scrubbing. I had no one to blame but myself for the piles of dirty dishes, discarded clothes, and books. Maybe I should clean and get a couple of hours of sleep before retrieving the cedar box? A soft pillow and warm blanket sounded good, but even on a good night, sleep eluded me. Insomnia was a long-lasting side effect of my graduate-school days.

I decided to ignore the apartment and pack a bag. I would need my laptop if I had to track down this Hicks guy. The older generation of my family didn’t waste their money on computers. They’d only recently broken down and ordered cable.

The picture of Charlie and Dottie on my nightstand caught my eye. I sat on the bed staring at their smiling faces, remembering the day I’d taken the photo. The entire family had gathered to celebrate Gram Mae’s birthday. Charlie had unrolled a piece of Visqueen on the lawn and set the hose at one end. He was soaking wet after a turn on the homemade slip-n-slide, and had grabbed Dottie for a hug. Their smiles both warmed and broke my heart.

I buried my face in my pillow and willed myself to cry. The tears wouldn’t come no matter how hard I tried. I closed my eyes and focused on my memories of that day. Ribs cooked on the grill and laughter in the air. Would we ever have another day like that—day of easy joy?

I woke in a panic but couldn’t remember the nightmare. My heart raced and my head felt heavy. I had no idea how long I’d slept, but fatigue slowed my every movement. I had to go to Charlie’s and find his cedar box, but my body begged for rest. On some level, I knew grief caused my exhaustion but refused to give in. There would be time to mourn later.

I drove in the dark early morning with the window down. The car reeked of cigarettes. Ian smoked, and though I hated the smell, I’d never bothered to ask him not to smoke in my car. Hailey’s assessment was spot-on. He was a jerk.

I needed to break things off, but how? Calling him would cause too much drama. E-mail? Impersonal. Texting? Tacky. In the end, I decided to play the avoidance game and eliminate the chances of a confrontation. It might be cowardly, but I had enough on my plate without adding a wounded male ego to the mix.

My thoughts drifted from Ian to Charlie to my mother to the murdered stranger to Hailey’s baby. Nothing stuck long enough to matter. My body knew the way to the house in the backwoods without the need to engage my brain.

The car crossed a set of rough railroad tracks and continued onto a dirt drive that ran parallel to the tracks. A patch of green grass grew down the middle of the drive. On each side of the grass, white sand dipped and rose like the hills of a roller coaster. One side rose while the other side dipped, so all four wheels sat at different levels. Gram Mae called them God’s speed bumps.

As I stepped out of the car, a chill ran down the length of my spine. Several sets of tiny black eyes stared. My
snake sense
. No matter how many years I spent in the backwoods of Florida, I never got used to all the dang snakes. Using the light from my phone, I illuminated my feet in time to see a black racer slide under my car. Each step I took, the phone lit up more snakes. “What the fuck?” I glanced over my shoulder, thankful my great-grandmother wasn’t around to hear me use the ultimate bad word.

I thought I’d jump out of my skin by the time I reached the front steps. The stairs consisted of concrete blocks stacked in neat rows. To my dismay, another snake rested on the second step. I shined the light on it, made shooing sounds, and stomped my feet. The dang thing refused to move. Its eyes reminded me of the old woman at the hospital: small, black, and mean.

I set my foot on the step above the snake, expecting it to slither toward my ankle. It didn’t move, except to turn its head and watch me open the door. Once inside, I shook my arms and hopped around to shake the feeling of those beady eyes.

I left the porch light off to prevent attracting a battalion of bugs. Inside, I turned on every light to chase the shadows away. Pipe smoke and Old Spice—the scents of Uncle Charlie—lingered in the second bedroom. A twin bed and a desk sat against opposite walls, with a narrow walkway between the two. A cheap particleboard bookcase contained rows of old glass jelly jars, coffee cans, and the like. Charlie had labeled each container in a language I couldn’t read.

I crawled under the desk to reach the bottom shelf where Charlie kept his cedar box. The hand-carved wood was as smooth as polished stone. I scrambled out from under the desk as a daddy longlegs crawled down the wall. Next to snakes, spiders were my least-favorite creatures.

I sat on the bed, feeling like a little girl getting into something forbidden. I said a quick prayer and opened the box. When nothing exploded and no one yelled, I peeked inside.