Seven Turns: A Ghost Story/A Love Story

Cally did her best to maintain a cheerful expression as she presented Bethany with the plate of strawberries. There was no room to set it on the night stand because Doctor Boojums was sitting there, staring fixedly at Cally. She ignored him and put the plate on the coverlet next to Bethany, handing her the tea. “Oh, this is so good!” Bethany exclaimed, taking several deep gulps. “You are an angel,” she added, handing the already half empty glass back to Cally.

“I don’t know about that,” Cally replied, looking for a place to set down the glass without touching the old gray cat.

“I think I drank it too fast, though. Now I feel all cold.”

“No,” said Cally. “It is cold in here, all of a sudden.” She returned Doctor Boojums’ stare. He blinked at her, and Cally could swear she saw color rising in his coat, the way color returns to the face of a person who had been feeling ill. George had been right: Boo was an orange tabby. Cally reached, getting up the courage to see what would happen if she tried to touch him, and saw her breath plume in the air before her. Bethany was trying to tug the covers up to her chest.

Doctor Boojums stood up on the night stand. One paw reached, curling, for the pill bottle, while he looked right at Cally as if defying her to try and stop him. Then with a barely perceptible movement, he knocked the bottle off the stand. Satisfied with his work, he jumped to the floor with a heavy thump and streaked out of the room in an orange blur.

“Why you little... !” Cally set the glass down on the now vacant night stand and dropped to her knees to follow the trajectory of the pill bottle as it rolled under the bed.

“What’s the matter?” Bethany called down to her.

“Darn it,” Cally said, unable to bring herself to swear properly in Bethany’s presence. “It has rolled all the way under the dresser. She crawled to the dresser, but she could barely fit her arm under the carved trim that decorated the bottom. She groped around, hoping she would not encounter anything unexpected. Her fingertips brushed something round and sent it rolling, where she heard it bump rattling into something else.

“There’s a flashlight in the night stand,” Bethany said. “I put one in every room.” Then Cally heard her cry out in pain as she tried to get it herself.

“No, don’t twist and turn,” Cally said, “I’ll get it.”

She stood to retrieve the little flashlight. Out in the hall she could hear the leader of the paranormal team shouting on the stairs. “Something just brushed past my legs. What the hell was that?” She imagined the Captain and Ian must be opening the special Christmas brandy by now.

Cally switched on the flashlight and knelt beside the dresser. “I wonder why it fell so far?” Bethany said.

“Maybe it was some of that famous ghostly mischief,” Cally muttered, causing Bethany to laugh and then yelp. Then she spotted the pill bottle in the flashlight’s beam. No, not the pill bottle. Three of them, all lying on their sides together. “What the hell?” she muttered, echoing the paranormal team out in the hall.

She stood to show an equally perplexed Bethany the three bottles. “Well, I think we’ve figured out where the medicine has been going,” she said. “That cat seems to think these are toys to roll around until they get lost under the furniture.”

“Dear, silly Cyndi,” said Bethany. Cally didn’t bother to correct her.

“I’ll just put this inside the drawer,” Cally said, “so no more adorable feline mischief puts anyone else’s health at risk.” She placed the bottle with the pink heart in the drawer, but held the other two up at eye level, trying to determine if they were as full as they should have been. “Bethany, I have an errand to run. I’ll ask Kat to come and help you when you’re ready for another dose. Please, don’t let anybody give you your medicine except Kat or me. Okay?”

Bethany looked at her quizzically. “If you say so,” she said. “Maybe that’s best. Helps us all to keep track, I guess.” She pushed the covers off herself; it was no longer cold in the room.

Cally left the room to find the paranormal crew standing at the Gallery railing, aiming hand-held instruments all around the upstairs hall and commanding any spirits present to light up the little red lights in order to prove their existence. George was standing at the head of the stairs laughing at them. No red lights were lighting, but batteries were dying right and left. Cally pulled the Daffodil Room door shut behind her and said, “Excuse me. There is a person in that room who isn’t feeling well. Please, if you could, try not to disturb her.”

“Not a problem,” said the female member of the crew. “Hey, have a look at this!” She showed Cally the screen on the back of a small digital camera. It showed a freeze frame of the Gallery railing from the dining room below; a wispy white shape could be seen leaning over the railing, looking down at the camera. “Do you think this is the White Lady?”

Cally thought it looked more like George in a dress, but she didn’t say so. “I don’t know, but if you go into that room right there,” she gestured toward the Wisteria Room across the hall, “they say you’ll have your best chance of seeing or hearing something.” She wondered why Joan wasn’t still with them, telling them where to go and what to look at. “If Joan – you know, the marketing manager – asks where I’ve gone, tell her I’ll be back in a little while.” She ran past George without disturbing his fun, and went downstairs to the dining room where Ian and the Captain sat chatting at the table. “Have you seen Foster?” she asked them.

“Not recently,” said Ian. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Cally decided not to share her half-baked suspicions with them until she knew more. “Just please tell him, if you see him, that I’ve gone into town to talk to Doc about ... something.”

“You’re going to miss all the fun!” the captain called after her.

“I certainly hope so,” Cally muttered as she went out the front door. The pill bottles were still clutched in her hands – she hadn’t even thought to stop and get her purse. Once at the bottom of the porch stairs, she turned into the shade garden along the side of the house and broke into a jog, passing through the rear of the property and out the little white gate onto the street.

She didn’t stop running until she reached the business district. Long late afternoon shadows were beginning to stretch into evening, filling the street with cool shade. Crossing Main Street, Cally slowed to a walk as she passed the news store, trying to catch her breath and, yes, she admitted maybe even a glimpse of Ben. But just a glimpse. She didn’t really have time to chat with him right now.

The news store was still open and Cally heard voices coming from inside. Bree was speaking very sharply to someone about something. Cally paused between the doorway and the storefront window, hoping the old woman wouldn’t catch sight of her passing by.

“Leave her alone!” Bree was shouting. “You have no right!”

“Bree.” It was Ben’s voice that answered, not loudly, but with a patience that seemed to have been somewhat stretched. “She’s lonely and bored. I just wanted to show her a nice time.”

“That’s not all you want to show her, I’ll bet.” She laughed, and it was not a pleasant laugh. “Bennet Dawes, you are the last person on earth who should be breaking up her boredom.”

“Where’s the harm?” Ben asked.

“Shall I make a list?” Cally heard the register drawer and several other things slamming shut. Cally eyed the far side of the storefront, getting ready to sprint for it so she wouldn’t be accused of eavesdropping.

“Please, don’t worry,” Ben was saying. “She didn’t see anything.”

“You don’t think so? She seems to be seeing and doing a lot of things lately that she shouldn’t be able to see or do! And what are you going to do if she finds out the truth?”

At this, Cally stopped herself, wondering, “What truth?”

“Maybe that would be a good thing,” she heard Ben murmur in a tone that was definitely not his usual calm and cheerful one.

“It’s a disaster waiting to happen!”

“A disaster is going to happen one way or another,” Ben said. “Maybe it’s finally time.”

“Oh. Really. You think so? And what is she now? The great star we are all awaiting? The Faerie Queene, maybe? And even if she were, no good would come of it. No good ever comes of any of this!” Her voice finally broke and Cally, looking desperately around her for a way to escape without revealing her presence, could hear her sobbing.

“Hush. Bree. Calm down.”

“Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare patronize me! You can’t take care of me forever!”

“I can, and I will.” Ben’s voice was calm again. Cally pictured him gathering her into his arms. Even though she barely knew him, she knew this was the kind of thing he’d do. “I have told you over and over. I am never going to leave you.”

“Yes. You are.” Her voice had become very quiet. “They all do. Sooner or later, they all do.”

More silence. Cally crouched, thinking perhaps she could duck around the side of the news store into the space between it and the upholstery shop next door. She absolutely did not want to be caught overhearing this exchange.

“Okay. Hush,” Ben was saying again. “If it hurts you that much, I won’t do it anymore. I won’t even show my face when she’s around.”

A sigh. “Now you’re just trying to make me feel guilty.”

“You know I’m not.”

Cally really didn’t want to hear any more, then. Not caring whether they saw her or not, she ran across the front of the open door and slipped around the corner of the building into the parking lot behind it.

---

The sun was well down behind the tops of the buildings, and the Daimler parked behind the store gleamed softly in the remaining light. Cally closed her eyes and refused to admit tears were trying to slip out between her eyelids. She clutched the two pill bottles in her hand and reminded herself of her mission, remembering she had seen Doc’s shingle over the door of the building beside the pizza shop.

When she walked around to the front of the buildings on Railroad Street, she saw the sign in Doctor Tanahey’s office door was turned to read “Closed,” and she swore with frustration. Of course the doctor in a small town would keep short hours. She felt like throwing the pill bottles into the shrubbery and just getting right out of the “pathetic little hick town,” as Joan had called it, for good. There was nothing she could do now, except go back to Vale House and wait for the sheriff to show up. Unless...

She turned the corner back onto Main Street and followed her nose to the Bean Garden. The coffee shop was still open, though it was empty except for Andi polishing the gleaming counter. When she saw Cally in the doorway, Andi smiled and called “Hello, Stranger! Did you bring your laptop this time?”

Cally stepped inside. “I’m afraid not.”

Andi put down her polishing cloth. “It’s just as well. The WiFi thing is down again. Here.” She picked up a white tea cup and held it under the spout of a decanter. “Decaf organic chai. Give it a try.”

But the sight of the cup only reminded Cally of her quest. “No, thank you, not right now. I need to find Doc. His office is closed – can you look up his cell number for me? Oh, and call him for me, too, please. I’m afraid I left my purse behind.”

“Oh, my! Is everything okay?” Andi put the cup down on the counter.

“I hope so,” said Cally. “I just need to ask him some questions.” She shifted the two pill bottles in her sweating hands and Andi noticed them. She fixed Cally with a gaze that required an explanation. “I think...” Cally was sure she shouldn’t be telling Andi these things, but she felt an overwhelming need for a friend just then. “Some of us up at Vale House are worried that ...someone... might be deliberately trying to hurt Bethany.”

“That’s a very serious accusation!”

“I know. I know.” Cally let Andi take the bottles out of her hands, and stammered on while the other woman squinted at the labels. “I try to tell myself it’s nothing, I’m imagining things, or overreacting, but...”

“These are opiates,” said Andi. “For what it’s worth, there is a rumor going around that someone in this town – I won’t name names – is struggling with an addiction to them. Maybe...” She squinted at the bottles and opened one of them. “Well. The labels say oxycodone, but that’s not what these are. Look.” She tipped a few pills out into the lid of the bottle. They were large tablets, oval-shaped and light blue. “I’m pretty sure these are not oxycodone. I’ve had that, back when I had a root canal. And my son had them when he fractured his wrist. Those are small and round. Nothing like this.” With alarm growing in her face, she opened the other one; it also did not contain oxycodone, but clear capsules with green tips. Andi put the pills back into their respective bottles and handed them to Cally. “Yes, I do think you had better go talk to Doc. And maybe the sheriff, too, while you’re at it.”

“Foster has already called the sheriff,” Cally told her.

“Well, Foster...” She cut herself off and shook her head. “Look, Doc is probably just across the street. At the feed store where the guys like to meet up after work to play their old timey music together.” She put her arm around Cally and led her to the door, gesturing up the street to where they could see a car parked in front of the feed store, and three figures just being joined by another on the loading dock. The light was fading, and Cally could hear Merv Arkwright tuning his guitar.

“Thank you.” Cally hugged her. “You’re a rock.”

“Let me know how it goes!”

“Andi, I bet you’ll find out before I do.”

Andi urged her out the door.

Cally crossed the street and approached the feed store to the sound of a six-string and a harmonica trying to settle into a 1960’s folk tune.

“Well, if it isn’t our local celebrity!” Merv called as she climbed the concrete steps of the loading dock. “You’re just in time.” Doc was there, sitting in a lawn chair, as was Jud Thornton from the hardware store and another man she didn’t recognize. Luke from the pizza shop was just arriving with a large box in a warming envelope.

“Do you sing soprano?” Doc asked.

“Alto,” said Cally. “Hey, I hate to be a wet blanket, Doc, but I have a serious question.” She handed him the pill bottles. “What are these?”

“It looks like you’ve found the missing medication. Good for you!”

“No, I mean, what are these?” She opened one of the bottles and showed Doc the contents. His face grew serious. “Foster has already called the sheriff,” Cally said quietly to him, “because something had been dissolved in Bethany’s tea. But he didn’t know about this, at the time.”

“He hasn’t called me,” said the fourth man on the porch. “My pager hasn’t gone off.” He stood and extended a hand to Cally. “Dunn Mahon,” he said by way of introduction.

“I guess Foster decided to wait until after the investigation,” Cally said with no attempt to hide her exasperation.

“You should not be conducting an investigation on your own,” Sheriff Mahon said sternly.

“No, no, I mean,” Cally shook her head. “Vale House is crawling with ‘paranormal investigators’ right now.” She used air-quotes. Everyone nodded their understanding, but nobody was amused.

“Where did you find these?” Doc asked, handing the bottles to the sheriff instead of back to Cally.

“Under the dresser. The cat pushed them off the night stand.” She could see that Doc’s face was drawn with worry. “I made sure to put the new bottle in the drawer of Bethany’s night stand,” she told him. “The correct one, with the pink heart on it.”

He smiled briefly. “But now I’m worried about someone else at Vale House.” To Sheriff Mahon’s inquisitive look he added, “Sorry, patient confidentiality.”

The sheriff shook his head. “Okay, sorry, fellas. I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you after all, tonight.” He dug in his pocket for his car keys. “Someone pay the bass player anyway, eh?”

Luke laughed. “I’ll put it on your bill.” He put the pizza box down on the loading dock and headed back across the street.

The sheriff offered Cally a lift back to Vale House, but she decided to walk. She hoped if she could slip through the back garden and into Vale House through the side door, Joan would not see her and wouldn’t suspect she had gone to the authorities. As she walked briskly back up the street toward the residential district, Ben came out of the News Store and waved, calling her name. She did not look at him and she did not answer.

As she ducked into the cool darkness under the oak trees, she heard sirens behind her. A backward glance showed flashing red and blue lights coming up Main Street from the direction of I-85. Cally thought that was a bit extreme – she hadn’t expected the sheriff to show up with sirens and blazing lights. But when the vehicle rushed past her, she saw it wasn’t the sheriff at all, but an ambulance. Through the trees, she watched it pass all the way to the end of the street and turn in to the main gate at Vale House.

“Oh, god! Bethany!” Cally broke into a run, praying with her heart in her mouth. When she arrived in the front yard, she saw the ambulance parked on the front lawn at the bottom of the porch steps, it’s lights illuminating the house in alternating sickly hues. But the person being carried out the door and down the steps on a stretcher was not Bethany. It was Joan.