Ghostly Mistakes

Ghostly Mistakes

by

Mary Alice Pritchard

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Ghostly Mistakes

COPYRIGHT  2008 by Mary Alice Pritchard

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

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Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Publishing History

First Faery Rose Edition, The Wild Rose Press-2008

Published in the United States of America

Smashwords Edition-2013

ISBN 9781301899128

Dedication

To my wonderful parents

who've always believed and supported me. To the femailers who pushed me to write and most especially to Nita Wick who never gave up on me.

Chapter One

Lizzy Gordon risked another look behind her as she ran the last few yards to her car.

Nothing…there…nothing there! She repeated the words, not to convince herself, but to keep her mind occupied until she was safe behind glass and steel. There was something there, all right. If she didn’t get into her car now, that something would have her for a quick snack. She pressed her remote as she neared the car; blinking headlights reassured her the doors were unlocked. She slammed the car door closed just seconds ahead of the presence bearing down on her and slid towards the center of the car, jerking as a malevolent ghost crashed into the door.

That was much too close! Realizing they were squeezed shut, she opened her eyes and made an attempt to slow her breathing before she hyperventilated. The presence outside the car was furious and pushing hard against the metal of the door.

Sliding home on your ass again, I see. The amused southern drawl drew a startled yelp from Lizzy before she could stop it.

Damnation, Carl! Don’t do that to me again! Scooting back into the driver’s seat and jamming the key into the ignition, she peeled out of the cemetery, leaving a dust cloud boiling behind her. And why are you here? I told you to keep out of my way!

Aw, Lizzy baby, is that any way to treat your back-up? His smooth southern drawl raised her hackles instead of calming her down as he probably intended.

Carl, I’m not your baby and you are most definitely not my back-up! I’m only in this mess because you can’t keep your promises! Growling in frustration, she risked a look in the rear view mirror at her passenger. Oh, man, he was just as hard to look at as the last time she’d seen him.

Driving faster than was safe on a gravel road, Lizzy willed her pounding heart to settle down.

Gravel turned to concrete a mile from the cemetery as she sped back to the highway, only slowing down enough to make the turn without rolling the car. She headed towards Indianola, Mississippi, the closest decent sized city near Belzoni on her map. She’d reserved a room at a Day’s Inn once she arrived in Belzoni, before going to the first cemetery. It was only a thirty-minute drive between the two towns and she preferred larger rather than smaller, rationalizing she stood a better chance at locating a decent place to eat. Lizzy finally slowed down to just over the speed limit once she was in sight of the Producers Feed Mill lights that signaled the even smaller community of Isola. Taking a deep breath, Lizzy glared at her passenger using the rear view mirror.

Two weeks ago, she was living a fairly normal life in Jackson, Mississippi, managing a small emergency medical clinic. Yes, she had the odd deadbeat to deal with, but nothing dramatic or dangerous. She liked it that way—boring. Instead, here she was sneaking around in the middle of the night in backwoods Belzoni, Mississippi, an angry spirit on her tail and the meddlesome ghost who started the whole fiasco in her back seat. Lizzy felt like she was jinxed when it came to men, and, considering her track record, most people would probably agree. Gripping the steering wheel, she fumed over the situation. It never failed—when she found herself metaphysically bound to a ghost, it turned out to be a whopper of an adventure. Oh, for a simple haunting or displaced body.

Staring into the rear view mirror at her latest male attachment, Lizzie planned to look for a new career as soon as she managed to rid herself of Carl. Something where there would be less chance of hitchhiking ghosts. She could manage a dry cleaners or maybe a bookstore. She loved to read. Anything that paid the bills would do, if it would keep her chances of hooking up with dead dudes to the bare minimum. Nothing like spending all your vacation and sick time looking after a ghost who should have finished his earthly business before he died!

It wasn’t like all of the spirits she’d found bound to her were huge hassles, but lately, most of them were. Case in point, Carlton Taylor. Her most recently acquired spirit knew his time was short and still managed to die without fulfilling his promises. Just like a man to think he had all the time in the world. They could cheat death and lift fully decked out monster trucks over their heads.

Carl, are you sure there’s no one who would remember where your great-grandmother, Augustine Rhodes, is buried? It sure would be a lot easier than exploring every cemetery in the county.

No, there ain’t nobody around who keeps up with all that stuff since Momma died.

Well, your Momma isn’t here, Carl, and that leaves me walking blindly from marker to marker. Since you’re so insistent on hanging around me at all hours, you can take half of the next one and help me look. She’s your great-granny!

I can do that. So long as there ain’t no protection around the place. I can look as good as you.

I doubt that, Carl, you’re about two weeks gone and starting to get ripe. She couldn’t help throwing it in his face. He’d been a thorn in her side nearly every day since he’d had the nerve to die in the medical clinic she managed.

Two weeks ago, Carl traveled to Jackson on business. As the president of a cooperative of catfish farmers, he met with potential buyers to market their fish. Since he was very successful in securing lucrative deals, the others were content to let him run that side of the operation. They were all part of the same network of southern farmers leading a roller coaster life in the Deep South. They worked hard and played harder, earning just enough to keep afloat. Their wives and girlfriends sported new cars and designer clothes while the men hunted and fished out of the best that money could buy. Most of it was on credit backed by the next Lent season’s projected sales.

Carl should have waited until after he got back to Belzoni to have his heart attack instead of stumbling into their office right at closing. They had one LPN and one physician left on duty when he walked in, sweating like a prizefighter and clutching his left arm. Recognizing the look, Lizzy pushed the emergency bell at the front window and rushed out to the waiting area in time to grab him before he collapsed. Among the three of them, they managed to haul him to an exam room and an oxygen hook up.

Lizzy called 911 while the doctor and nurse worked on him until the ambulance arrived.

Later the doctor told them the man never had a chance, it was a massive heart attack already evident on his electrocardiogram, but they had done their best. She’d been in charge of keeping the oxygen mask on while they did CPR and administered medications, so she was the last one to look into his eyes before the lights went out. She knew it had been a grave mistake. His spirit latched onto her like a leech the minute it left his body. She didn’t have time to shield before they were bound. Now she was stuck with him until his unfinished business was finished.

You’re just mad ‘cause that little haunt back there scared you. The southern drawl was back in force with a hint of spite.

You bet your ass it scared me! You should be just as worried. If that thing had caught me, you’d not only be stuck in the nether-lands, you’d be chained to it as well. Lizzy shivered at the thought. She’d already endured one nasty possession; she never wanted to repeat that experience again. And definitely not with Carl along for the ride!

Didn’t it just want you to finish something he hadn’t done? What’s the big deal with that? Carl’s tone was softer now and had lost the exaggerated southern drawl. He might even sound a little nervous, but Lizzy didn’t check the mirror again.

Carl, some spirits aren’t stuck here. They don’t want to leave. They want to be alive again and aren’t above inhabiting someone’s body to do that. It’s called being possessed, like in the movies. They take possession of people to use them and, in the process, usually manage to drive them insane.

Oh, Carl barely whispered and was silent for a moment. I didn’t realize that. I wouldn’t have done that, Lizzy. I have to say, though, I was pretty upset when I realized I was dying because I paid that witch to give me another year to set things straight. I wasn’t supposed to die yet!

Carl, you can’t cheat death no matter what she told you. She couldn’t have extended your life a minute longer than you had. It was the second time they’d had this conversation. Carl refused to believe he’d been duped.

For all his weaknesses, Carl believed in keeping promises. That belief being the very reason he’d latched onto her when he realized he was about to die. He’d made a promise to his mother on her deathbed to find the resting place of her grandmother and right a wrong that had been done to her at death. He hadn’t bothered to find out what that might involve, though. Comfortable he had plenty of time to deal with it later, he promptly forgot about it after his mom’s funeral and went on with his life. Then, two weeks before he made the fatal trip to Jackson, Carl had a dream he would die while he was there. He wasn’t ready to die and still had too many things to finish.

He approached Esther Sorez, the local Vodun Mambo or Voodoo Priestess, and bargained for another year to get his house in order, so to speak. She got a thousand dollars cash and his hidden bank account, as well. Figuring she knew her stuff since she knew about the hidden account, he agreed. Esther did whatever she did and said he was fine until a year from that date. Pleased with his transaction, and thankful for the fact he didn’t need to wear any sort of smelly gris gris to make the magic work, Carl went on with his life. When he realized he was going to die, he knew the witch had double-crossed him. Furious, he latched on to Lizzy as soon as he left his mortal body. Spirits always recognized a channel as someone they could use in the absence of their own bodies.

So have you been possessed before?

Yes. Hesitating, cold chills ran up and down her spine just thinking about it. They put me in a mental hospital thinking I was schizophrenic or something. I was only sixteen.

Why’d they do that?

I nearly killed my first boyfriend. Even all these years later the memory was enough to make her nervous. Hands gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white, her breathing quickened with the anxiety the memory produced. Lizzy really didn’t want to think about it right now, but Carl could be persistent when he wanted to be. Damn, girl! Why’d you try to kill him?

I didn’t try to kill him, the spirit that possessed me tried. She hated hearing the defensiveness in her voice. Licking her lips, without much success since her mouth was dry from all the action, she hoped he would leave it at that.

How did you get rid of it? Stifling the urge to scream at him to leave it alone, Lizzy sighed and focused on relaxing the death grip she had on the steering wheel before she broke something.

I don’t actually know if you can get rid of spirits once they possess someone, Carl. I mean I guess you can. Maybe exorcism isn’t that uncommon, and they just don’t advertise about it. Risking a glance in the rear view mirror, she found he wasn’t as gross to look at this time. Obviously he was too busy being nosey to concentrate on sliming her back seat.

Once they committed me to the hospital, and I’d been drugged and shocked, the spirit couldn’t really use me anymore. I was locked up in a hospital where he couldn't have me running around doing his bidding. Since I wasn’t useful, he moved on, leaving me behind paying for his antics. Lizzy shuddered at the memory of those horrible months of confinement. She was eternally grateful she didn’t remember most of the first part.

So, were you born a ghost magnet?

A ghost magnet? I don’t know how you managed to land your wife, because your manners are horrid! Lizzy had long since decided she was a loser magnet, but now she had a new term to use. No, I wasn’t born a channel for spirits. I fell through some ice into a pond when I was young and thought I could ice skate. They said I drowned but they were able to revive me because the water was so cold. When I recovered, there were ghosts everywhere wanting to talk to me, wanting me to tell people they were okay, not to worry. It was scary for a ten year old, I can assure you.

I ended up in a coma for five days and when I woke up, there were spirits and ghosts following me everywhere. I thought I’d died and gone to hell, but I hadn’t.

I guess that was scary. For a kid, I mean, Carl said.

You don’t know the half of it. I learned to keep it to myself because people thought I was crazy when I talked to myself. They thought I was weird anyway. I managed, even though they kept me up all night and chattered all during school, but it wasn’t easy. Then the evil spirit found me and I ended up locked up.

How did you manage to convince them to let you out? She’d nearly forgotten Carl was in the backseat and jerked when he spoke. I mean did they just realize you were okay, you’d been cured?

No, they kept me fairly doped up most of the time until I quit taking the meds on my own. Some of the other patients taught me how to pocket the pills they gave me. They helped me learn how to survive inside. If it wasn’t for them, I probably would have gone insane. The hitch in her voice spoke volumes concerning her feelings about that time in her life. She rarely allowed those memories to surface. They were much too painful.

I didn’t know or really care at the time how I managed to get released. I was just relieved to be free, and able to do what I wanted, and sleep when I wanted. It felt like I was inside for a lifetime. Her voice trailed off as memories, unbidden, surfaced to bring back some of the fear and hopelessness she’d felt back then.

I met a few others like me, channels for spirits. The one positive outcome was I learned more about my abilities. There was an older man who told us all about what was going on. Well, when he was lucid. He’d been possessed so many times he’d sort of flipped out.

"How did he help you? Tell you how to get rid of ghosts? Carl leaned over, propping his arms on the seat backs.

"He helped us realize we weren’t crazy and taught us how to shield ourselves from the evil ones.

He said if you were strong enough you could get rid of wraiths, the evil spirits. He couldn’t tell us how, though. I promised myself that if I ever got out I would learn everything I could about channels, ghosts, spirits, and possession. Lizzy bit her lip thinking about the past and resisted the urge to shiver. Later, I found out they released me when the government cut their funds. Once you showed improvement, you got to try again. No, that wasn’t sarcasm in her voice—bitterness maybe, but not sarcasm.

Silence fell over the interior of the car while Lizzy closed and bolted the door to that part of her life she rarely visited. The memories still carried enough strength to upset her when she allowed them to surface, and right now she had enough on her plate to worry about.

Once we finish settling your spiritual debts, Carl, you have an appointment with your destiny that you better not be late for.

I know, I know. The southern drawl sounded a little more natural and less drawn out. I’m really sorry I got you into this. I was just so angry when I realized the witch had double-crossed me! A deep sigh, followed with a telling sniff, clued her in he was close to crying.

Aw, come on, Carl. You’re a man, for Pete’s sake, don’t get blubbery! Lizzy ran her fingers back through her hair, pulling tightly at the roots to keep focused. I’ll find your great-grandmother’s grave and do whatever has to be done to set it right. Just try and keep out of my way, okay?

The ‘uh huh’ from the back seat was all she got in response, but it was enough for now. Something flashed in the corner of her eye from the road behind her, catching her attention. Glancing at her side mirror, she saw the blue lights about the time it registered she was driving on the wrong side of sixty.

Oh, great! Her hands were already sweating on the steering wheel from her close encounter with the menacing spirit, and her recent trip down memory lane hadn’t helped the matter. Slowing down and signaling she was pulling over, Lizzy blindly grabbed for her bag with her right hand. A ticket is just icing on the cake now.

I’m….

Don’t say a word! Lizzy cut in quickly. Not one word and behave while I handle this. Rolling down her window with one hand, and digging in her bag for her license with the other, she ignored the indignant harrumph behind her. Intent on locating her driver’s license, Lizzy mumbled beneath her breath about crazy ghosts, and nearly screamed for the second time that night when she glanced over towards the driver’s window into the darkest eyes she’d ever seen.

Sorry to startle you, ma’am. I assumed you knew I was standing here. The deep voice sounded warm and inviting, but held just enough amusement to spoil the effect. He’d bent over slightly from the side of the door looking down at her.

I did, I’m just—nervous about being out here at night by myself. Plastering what she hoped was a nervous smile on her face, she did her best to appear normal, if only nervous to the highway patrolman.

The speed limit through here is fifty-five, ma’am. It’s sixty another two miles down the road, though. Taking her license and registration as she handed them through the window, he surprised her when he also asked for her car keys.

My keys? I mean, why? Lizzy’s heart slammed into her throat. What was going on?