Celeste Page 7

  .

  She's lying!" Noble screamed.

  I had said nothing to him when we both got up,

  washed, dressed, and went down to breakfast, but as soon as we entered the kitchen to help Mommy set the table. I told her what I had felt and seen.

  She nearly dropped a cereal bowl. "Quiet. Noble," she snapped.

  Then she sat and reached out for me. I gave her my hands. She held them tightly, her fingers pressing so hard they actually hurt. but I didn't complain. Noble stood off to the side, glaring at us

  "If you are lying, Celeste. I will know." she warned.

  "I'm not lying. Mommy." I said firmly. I could feel her eyes moving over my face and even into my brain. Then she nodded and let go of my hands. There were red spots where her fingers had clamped down on them.

  "Tell me about it," she said in a whisper.

  I described how my fingers felt while I was sleeping, and how I had opened my eyes and had seen Daddy standing there holding my hand.

  "Did he speak to you?"

  "No. He just stood there, looking at me and smiling."

  "Yes," she said. nodding. "It is truly the way it begins. That's how I know she's not lying. Noble," Mommy told him, and his angry expression wilted into one of disappointment only. "It's like easing yourself into a hot bath. You don't cross over quickly. First, you see them, and then, when they know you are ready, they speak to you and you hear them."

  "I didn't see him," Noble whined. "Why wouldn't I see him, too?"

  "You will, Now that Celeste has seen him, it's only a matter of time for you," she said.

  "Why did she see him first?"

  "Because she paid more attention to the meditation and she tried harder." Mommy practically shouted at him.

  I held my breath. It wasn't that often that she took my side against him or that she showed her anger at him as clearly and firmly. I was sure it was only because I had seen Daddy's spirit.

  If I hadn't, nothing would change. Despite his failure to fully understand it all, Noble looked like he understood this. He looked down.

  "It's not fair" he muttered.

  "Go into the living room and sit quietly," she told him. "Go on."

  "But I want my cereal."

  "Not yet, I want you to sit and think about what's happened and what you can do to make it happen to you, and I warn you again. Noble, if you should pretend, if you should make up something and not be honest about it, you will drive your father's spirit away from you. He might never show himself to you or speak to you if you are not honest. Do you understand? Do you?"

  "Yes" he said.

  "Go sit by yourself and think" she ordered, pointing to the doorway.

  He threw me an angry, covetous look and went out, his head still bowed.

  "Tell me more," Mommy asked me. "How did he look to you?"

  "He looked younger than I remembered him. Mommy."

  "Yes," she said. "Exactly."

  "And he didn't look unhappy. He looked very happy."

  "That's right," she said. She was so happy I had to go on, think of more.

  "And I felt so warm all over"

  "Protected." she said nodding. "Exactly. You've done it, Celeste." she cried, tears coming to her eyes. "You've done it,"

  She reached out and pulled me to her and gave me the warmest, strongest embrace I could remember before she kissed my forehead and closed eyes. My heart was so full of joy, I thought it might burst in my chest.

  "Have your breakfast," she said. "You have no idea how much has been opened to you now. Every day of your life will bring a new surprise. You should feel better about yourself, about everything, already."

  She was right. Now that she showered so much love and affection on me. I couldn't remember being happier. Nothing I had done had pleased her as much. It was truly as if Daddy's dying never mattered because he would be with me always and I would have Mommy loving me more than ever.

  "Now, we have to concentrate on Noble." she said. "We've got to help him to see, and then, then we will all be closer as a family. Well all have Daddy again," she told me.

  After a few more minutes, she called him back into the kitchen and again told him how he must try harder and do what I had done.

  "You know you haven't tried hard enough. Noble," she told him. "You do know that, don't you?"

  He didn't respond, and she hovered over him with her eyes full of desperation and anger. He glanced up and looked down quickly. I felt sorry for him.

  "You will try harder," she said, and he nodded again.

  Noble was as repentant and as cooperative as he could be for days and days afterward. He looked at me differently. too. I could see it in the way his eyes grew smaller, his gaze more intense. He watched me more closely, interrupted his own activities to loiter around me when I planted or weeded our garden, something he had little interest in doing, or when I helped Mommy clean the house. Whenever we took walks with or without Mommy, he paid keen attention to whatever attracted my attention, and he was always asking me whether I saw Daddy and especially whether or not Daddy had said anything to me.

  He hadn't yet. so I wasn't going to say he had. and I couldn't tell him anything more because I hadn't seen Daddy again since that night. and I would never say I had. I took Mommy's warnings very, very seriously: never lie about the spirits.

  However, since I had seen Daddy. I was sure that I began to see other spirits. Sometimes they were just walking about the property, talking softly to each other. although I couldn't hear them. I saw their mouths moving, their hands going. Occasionally they would pause and look my way, always smiling and nodding at me.

  I told Mommy I had seen them and asked her what I should do, and she said, "Do nothing. Smile and nod back. It takes time. They have to get used to you, to believe in you."

  She studied me. My eyebrows were scrunching together. Why would they have to get used to me?Im not the dead one. They are.

  "I see that is odd to you, but yes. Celeste, it's harder for the spirits to believe in a living person being able to see and hear them than it is for a living person to believe in seeing and hearing them. Time has made it more difficult for them to understand what we are and what they were. They can't understand why we place so much value on things that have no lasting quality or why we get upset over trivial matters. It's almost like one of Noble's ants trying to understand Noble," she added. and I nodded. When she explained it that way. I understood everything she was saying. Mommy must have been a very good teacher, I thought. We're lucky to have her all to ourselves.

  "You're very bright," she told me, but she didn't sound as happy about it as I thought she would, "To be honest. Celeste. I didn't expect it to happen this way. I expected Noble would cross over first,"

  "Why?" I asked quickly, maybe too quickly. She didn't turn back to me. She stared out the window.

  "I don't know." she finally replied. "It was supposed to be that way. That's all I know,"

  Her voice drifted off. I hated it when she couldn't give me a reason for something.

  We both saw Noble running about, holding his sword above him and screaming some war cry. To me he looked further away from crossing over than ever. I guess he looked the same way to Mommy. She turned back to me, and her expression hardened.

  "We've got to help him," she said with desperation. "I'm afraid for him."

  "Afraid? Why, Mommy?"

  "I just am," she said. and you should be. too. Remember, you have a special responsibility to watch over him. Celeste. Remember that," she warned.

  Why? What have I done to give me this special responsibility? I wanted to ask. but I thought it would sound too selfish and mean. After all, she had so much on her shoulders, so much responsibility. She had to be a daddy and a mommy all wrapped up in one person.

  Almost a year had one by since Daddy's death. Our lives had taken on a comfortable routine. For the most part. Mommy was able to do every-thing we needed done herself. She had even come to

  understa
nd our oil burner, our circuit breakers, and diagnosed and corrected our minor problems almost as quickly and efficiently as Daddy had. When she was convinced she couldn't solve a problem, and only when she was convinced, she would call for help. Usually she called Mr. Kotes, who came over so quickly, it was as if he had been on his way before she had called.

  When she thanked him, he told her not to and practically begged her to call on him again.

  "No matter how small the problem might seem," he said. "That's very kind of you, Taylor." Mommy told him.

  I liked him. He always had a warm, friendly smile on his face for me. but I could see that Noble did not like him. He resented him.

  "Those are Daddy's tools he's using," he would mutter when Mr. Kotes went to fix something.

  "He needs them to do the job," I would say. but Noble was still distraught,

  "He shouldn't be able to use them. He isn't as smart as Daddy, and he isn't as strong."

  Mr. Kotes was a smaller-framed man who, even though he was a few inches taller than Daddy was, probably weighed twenty pounds less than Daddy had weighed and didn't have Daddy's firm build and posture. He had light brown, very close to blond hair he kept trimmed short, and a light complexion with swirls of redness in his cheeks and over his temples.

  He tried to get Noble to accept his friendship, giving him tools from his lumberyard occasionally, or trying to. because Noble would respond with, "Mommy says not to take gifts that will make us forget Daddy."

  "Oh. I don't want you to forget your father, Noble," Mr. Kotes said. "I'm sure he would want you to have these things," he added. "Take them and keep them for when you think it's okay to use them," he urged.

  Battling with his own conscience. Noble did take them and hide them in our toolshed. Sometimes. I would see him use the small hammer or screwdriver set, but always quickly and with lots of guilt. He would try not to let Mommy see.

  Other than Mr. Kotes and some other service people and the postman, her attorney, and her accountant, few, if any, people ever came to our home.

  Even on Halloween, no one brought their children to trick-or-treat at our door, and that wasn't just since Daddy's death. For years Mommy had put out the candy in anticipation, and every year, no one had come. Mommy said it was probably the ride being too long or the driveway being too long. Noble, and even I now, longed to have the company of other kids our age. I often asked Mommy when she would be sending us to the public school.

  "We'll see." was all she would say. Once, she added. When they tell me."

  I didn't have to ask her who they were.

  I came to believe that we couldn't go to the public school until Noble had crossed over. I tried to help him to meditate, to concentrate, but he just didn't have the patience for it, no matter what I did for him or promised him. Finally, one night, Mommy decided to try something else. It had been nearly two months since I had crossed over, and Noble had yet to see a shadowy figure that he didn't invent himself.

  She called us to the kitchen table after we had done the homework she had assigned. There was a single candle burning at the center, a black candle. She had us sit on both sides of her, and then she said she was going to try something new, some other way to help Noble cross.

  We were told to give her our hands and then to close our eyes and lower our heads. For a while that was all we did. Noble squirmed in the seat. and Mommy snapped at him to sit still,

  "What are we doing?" he finally asked.

  "I'm trying to get the spiritual powers to move through me and into you. Since they have already begun to move through Celeste, we have a combined strength that might work," she explained,

  None of it made any sense to Noble. If there was one thing he couldn't do well, it was sit still for a long period, and that was exactly what Mommy was demanding of him.

  "I've got to pee," he declared after another five minutes. Mommy groaned and slapped both our hands at the table. "Ow," Noble moaned. "That hurt. Mommy."

  "Just go to the bathroom." she said impatiently.

  He got up, glanced at me from a lowered head, and walked off. Then Mommy turned to me with the most frightening expression on her face I had ever seen. It was truly as if she had seen something terrible.

  "There is something moving around us, something very, very evil that is keeping Noble from crossing over. Celeste. I want you to be alert and aware. If you feel it, if you see it, you come to me immediately. You understand? There are things I can do only if I know what it is."

  I nodded, holding my breath.

  It might come as an icy feeling on the back of your neck or a dark, dark shadow over your eyes in the brightest of sunlit days, or a shiver in your spine. Something, some way, and when it does happen. I want you to be sure to come to me quickly and tell me. Promise and swear to me you will,- she said.

  "I promise and I swear. Mommy," I said as firmly as I could.

  Still, she didn't look relieved at all.

  Noble returned sheepishly. He took his seat. and Mommy held our hands again, but she shook her head after a good ten minutes and released her grip on our fingers.

  "It s not working. Not tonight, at least," she said. "We'll try again, soon," she promised, and we were excused.

  A few nights later. Mommy had another idea. She had waited for there to be a full moon. It was fall, so the nights were growing cooler and cooler until they were downright cold. We couldn't go out after dinner without putting on heavier clothing. There had already been a few nights of frost.

  All of the beautiful amber, brown, and crimson leaves had been blown off the branches of their trees. The forest had a gay and darker look. Noble called the saplings bones and the bigger trees skeletons, and they did look like that to me, too, especially when there was moonlight shining through them.

  Mommy had yet to take us to Daddy's grave in the cemetery. Because she didn't believe his spirit resided there, she saw little reason to put flowers in front of his tombstone or visit it just because it was something people expected she would do. but Mommy did on occasion stand before her greatgrandpa Jordan's and her great-grandma Elsie's tombstones with Infant Jordan's small stone between them. I wanted to ask her why his and her spirit and the baby's spirit would be at their graves and Daddy's not at his. but I was afraid to ask because it might seem like I didn't believe in what she could see and do.

  Most of the time she visited the graves herself, but this one night she decided to take us along.

  "Noble," she said. "I want you to place both your hands on your great-great-grandpa Jordan's stone and just stand there," she said.

  "Why doesn't Celeste have to do it, too?" he asked quickly.

  It was only on a very rare occasion that he was asked to do something I wasn't asked to do. We shared all our chores in the house. We shared our homework. We shared our room. We ate the same foods. For as long as we both could remember during our seven and a half years, that was how it was, maybe because we were twins.

  "She doesn't have to Mommy replied. "She'll do something else that will help. Now do what I tell you," she ordered, and he stepped forward, gingerly placing his hands on the top of the tombstone. He looked back at me. I saw he was shivering.

  "Give me your hand. Celeste," she said, and I did. Then she surprised us both by falling to her knees and lowering her head. We didn't hear her, but she was whispering a prayer.

  I turned and looked to my left. I felt sure I saw Daddy standing there watching us. I was excited because I hadn't seen him again since that first night, but he didn't look happy this time. I wanted to tell Mommy. but I was afraid to speak. To interrupt her. By the time she was finished. Daddy was gone.

  She looked up expectantly, her eyes on Noble. He had his head down now, and he was visibly shaking.

  "It's cold," I heard him say.

  She looked at me and shook her head. Then she rose slowly, seized Noble's hand, and pulled him away from the tombstone. We walked back to the house. Mommy's face as dire and as gloomy as it had been whe
n we had walked from the cemetery after Daddy's funeral.

  That night after Noble and I had gone to bed and he had fallen asleep. Mommy came to my bedside. She knelt down and stared through the darkness at me. I held my breath and waited for her to speak because she was taking so long.

  "I told you before," she finally said. "For reasons I don't yet understand, the spirits will not show themselves to Noble, will not protect him the way they will protect you and me. Not even Daddy," she said with her voice dripping disappointment, even anger. "It is your special responsibility to protect him and watch over him. Celeste, for you have been blessed and he will not see dangers as you do. I am relying on you for this," she said. "Don't fail me," she warned.

  I couldn't respond. It frightened me to hear her repeat this admonition so vehemently. It was too much responsibility for me. How could I watch over him day and night? Why wasn't that her job, solely her job?

  She saw the questions in my eyes. I Guess, She reached out, stroked my hair, and smiled.

  We are truly a team now," she said. That made me feel better.

  Then she kissed me on the forehead and left our room. I watched her close the door.

  Even though it was nearly pitch-dark. I thought I saw Daddy standing there.

  He looked as troubled as he had out at the gravestones. "Daddy," I whispered. "What's wrong?"

  He started to speak, and then he stopped as if he was listening to some other voice, turned, and left through a shadow in the corner.

  I stared into the darkness hopefully, but soon my eyelids closed like the doors of two safes, locking my visions away for the night. In the morning I wasn't sure if I really had seen Daddy again or if it had been a dream. My mind was so hazy. I thought about telling Mommy and asking her what I should do, but she was very distracted and barely paid any attention to either Noble or me.

  "We're going for a ride," she said. She had opened an envelope and had the letter spread before her on the table. From the way she was glaring down at it. I knew it was something that had made her very angry,

  "Where?" Noble asked. excited.

  Going anywhere, even to the supermarket, was like going to Disneyland for us.