A Ghost of a Chance - Cherie Claire (best ebook reader under 100 .txt) 📗

Charlene nods. “With a gash across her forehead, much like yours only in the front.”

“She acted like she didn’t know she was dead. Unless, of course, she’s a live girl and lives down there.”

Charlene smiles at this and I relax slightly. I’m amazed to find my muscles taunt and achy.

“I shone my light at her and she screamed,” Charlene explains. “I was like you, frightened and started backing up the trail to get away. But she disappeared as fast as she came.”

“You saw her vanish?” Oh please, oh please. I so want this crazy girl to be a typical apparition so there’s no question I haven’t lost my mind.

“Poof!” Charlene says with animation.

My shoulders drop with relief and my head even feels better. Charlene isn’t as relieved as I am. She’s obviously disturbed to find a dead schoolgirl in her cave.

“Okay, so we both saw a ghost but who is she?” Charlene asks.

I think back on Uncle Jake and Aunt Mimi and their cave in Alabama and all the soft, comforting hands reaching out to me in the dark. My logical journalist brain wants to dissect all this, providing hard facts to explain the phenomenon but that won’t do. There are no hard facts to prove the deceased walk the earth. Instead, I’m convinced the answers lie in the emotions, because as clearly as I saw the blond schoolgirl holding her head as blood trickled through her fingers, I knew she was dazed and unaware of her death.

Besides, I’m a fan of the ghost reality shows on TV and swear that ghosts have unfinished business. Or they are confused as to why they died, somehow missed the bus to the otherworld.

“I think she doesn’t know she’s dead,” I deduce. “She could have been here on a field trip with her school, got lost, hit her head and died in there and no one was able to find her.”

Charlene nods in agreement. “That would make sense. And no one thought to go down that path because she might have done what you did, leave the group without anyone noticing.”

I feel guilty, like a naughty child. “Sorry.”

Charlene tilts her head and smiles. “No, don’t be. I find Civil War shit boring too.”

This makes us both laugh, which cuts the tension. But in a flash I remember something.

“I believe she was murdered.”

The blood leaves Charlene’s face and I wonder if she owns a psychic nature as well, for she understands me, maybe hoped for the best but silently knew the worst. “I think so, too.”

I sit up more, pounding now back full force and I grimace.

“Shall I get Peter?” Charlene asks.

“Not yet, because you might want to call the police and have them search the cave for bones and I want to give you one last thought.”

Charlene leans in closer, as if the walls have ears.

“The last thing I remember before I blacked out was blood in her lap.”

Charlene shudders as if goosebumps have taken over her body, an intense skittering over her skin. Suddenly, I feel them too and shiver as well.

The door opens and Peter sticks his head inside, which makes Charlene rise and ask for a blanket. “I think our patient is a bit cold,” she tells him.

Peter leaves to retrieve one from the EMT van but Winnie is Johnny on the spot, entering the room and gazing around to see what she might have missed. “What’s going on?”

Charlene doesn’t know what to say, to explain how our little tête-a-tête involved ghosts. I stand and pretend I’m feeling like a million dollars, heading for the door and hopefully a hot bath at the hotel in Eureka Springs.

“We were discussing how that path I stumbled upon was not for public use and how Charlene and Bud are putting up barriers this week to keep people out. I assured her I wasn’t going to write about my misbehavior.”

Winnie senses I am lying — that mother thing again — but she nods. “You really need to do something about that,” she tells Charlene.

“Don’t be hard on her,” I add. “It was all my fault. I never stayed in line in school and I never did what I was told.”

Winnie gives me a look that says I know something more is happening here. As I pass her on the way out the door, she whispers, “You’re going to tell me everything in the van.”

I nod, which makes me wince and I see her eyes widen in my peripheral vision. “Stop, Mom. I’m fine. Really. It’s just a headache.”

“You should go to the hospital,” she says to me as she takes my elbow and helps me outside.

“No way, no how,” I whisper back. “I’m a Katrina survivor, remember? Bad memories.”

She lets it rest and I’m thankful for that. Besides, I’m sure it’s just a bad bump to the head and that martini is sounding better and better. If I’m lucky, my hotel room will have an oversized bath with some signature bath products and I can sip my alcohol and slip into heaven.

As I enter the gift shop I realize my worries about the rest of the group being bored and anxious to get out of there was unfounded. They have been happily exploring the woods and lake, I’m told, or buying stuff in the gift shop.

It’s then that I remember my angelite stone and slip my hand within my pocket. The cool stone remains and for a second I remember the girl’s face, bloody and frightful but also mad as hell. I pull my hand out of the pocket and the image vanishes, much like it did for Charlene.

“Why now?” I wonder. “What the hell?”

I feel a pinch at my elbow. Winnie’s giving me that look again. “Why what?”

Crap, I said it out loud. “Why on my first trip did I have to do something stupid and get hurt?” I say with the best innocent look I can summon. She doesn’t buy it and I pull away from her grasp, looking instead for Charlene, a friendly face who doesn’t think I’ve gone dancing with the fairies.

As I expected, Charlene is right behind me, embraces me tightly and whispers in my ear. “I’m so sorry.”

I enjoy the warm feel of her arms about me, wondering how long it’s been since I’ve been hugged. “Now how would you know the cave was haunted?” I whisper back.

She still looks scared, as if the journalists visiting her this morning promising to put her on the tourism radar have turned into 60 Minutes.

“Don’t worry,” I assure her. “The police may straighten this out.”

Bud joins us, giving me a big hug and I wish I could stay in this sweet little paradise, the crazy dead schoolgirl notwithstanding. Alicia also looks worried, so I figure I should make my speech now.

“It was all my fault,” I tell the others, although Winnie frowns, arms folded tight across her chest. “I left the group and started playing Indiana Jones and went down this really dangerous trail. Believe me, if anyone remains on the trail they are perfectly safe. I’m just a sucker for adventure.”

The Moseleys begin a long litany about how they are working hard to bring the cave up to code and how that area is never open when tourists are here, but we were a small group and they didn’t think we would go exploring (Charlene gives me a guilty look for saying that but heck, it’s true). Finally, Stephanie holds up a hand and shakes her head.

“We’re not going to write about this,” she says which makes both Bud and Charlene exhale, a bit too loudly I might add. “I wasn’t planning on including your attraction until you had it fully functional, since my newsletter caters mostly to families.”

“This was a sneak peak,” Alicia interjects and I’m amazed to find her piping in.

“A beautiful place,” Joe adds. “It’s going to be just lovely when you have it done. Why don’t you let us know when it’s finished and we’ll come back for a visit.”

Bud looks like he’s won the lottery. “That would be fantastic. We can do that. And we’ll put you up anywhere you like.”

I give Charlene one last look and we silently speak volumes across the driveway. “Let me know what happens,” I say and she nods.

We all pile into the van and we’re not halfway down the road when Winnie starts her twenty questions. Only my head is now reminding me bigtime that I slammed it against a wall of rock and even my teeth hurt when I try to speak. I flush down the Tylenol with water Spidey gave me and close my eyes for a few moments of peace, which freaks Winnie out even more. Something about staying awake in case you have a concussion.

“Don’t you remember Peter telling you all this?”

I shake my head, and swear there are things rattling around inside. All I remember is the look on that girl’s face when she found blood on her fingers. The more I run that movie inside my head, the more I’m convinced she has no idea she is dead.

Winnie keeps talking, mostly small talk about her son’s football team and the trouble goats get into while we drive into Eureka Springs. Even Stephanie and Joe get into the act, rambling on about their last trip to Europe and what they had to eat on a barge ride through the Loire Valley. I’m about to scream that I’m in no danger of falling asleep unless they keep talking when we make the turn off the main highway, heading into town, and I’m anxious to see what this eclectic mountain town, founded on a series of medicinal springs, looks like.