Chapter 21

Zeke focused on the man Uncle Luther had trusted with his soul. He considered his next question. Who else could he ask? It made sense to talk to a spiritual leader about spirits. Were they haunting the land? Were they trapped by the curse? The one thing he did not need to ask was who they were. That much, he knew.

“Is there something else?” Pastor James leaned back. He looked so relaxed. Unlike Ms. Rivers, this man was prepared to take as much time as Zeke needed. It gave him the nerve to forge ahead.

Zeke lifted the water bottle to his lips. He drank deeply and tried to steady the tremor. “I’m not sure how to ask this.”

Pastor James nodded but said nothing.

Zeke reached deep within himself for strength. Originally, he wasn’t going to talk about this or his tattoo bleeding. But the pastor knew about the tattoo. Maybe he already knew about the ghosts.

“What...” He cleared his throat. “What about the ghosts?”

Pastor James held eye contact. Then he blinked. His eyes darted to the left and his eyebrows pulled together. He looked back into Zeke’s waiting eyes. His mouth curled into a half smile. “Ghosts?”

“Yes. The two ghosts at the well.” Zeke clenched his jaw and pushed his chin up.

“Hmm.” Pastor James sucked in his upper lip. Eventually, he said, “I ... I don’t know about any ghosts—at the well or otherwise, Zeke.”

“Look I may be losing my mind, or ... hallucinating, but—” He paused and rubbed his skin-slick head.

The pastor’s emotionless mask of tolerance had been firmly locked into place.

“I ... when I go out to the well, I see a woman named Rosa Lehman and a man named Otto Hoffman. And I read in Luther’s family Bible about a Rosa Lehman who was Luther’s birth mother.” Zeke swallowed hard. He no longer could make eye contact with the patiently listening pastor. He swigged a drink of water. “And ... Hoffman— Zeke hesitated. Should he tell this part? He’d waded out this far, he might as well go for a swim. “I leaned against the well and I swear I had a vision.”

Zeke’s glanced at the pastor.

Pastor James’s unchanging expression gave him permission to continue.

“I saw this man, Hoffman, kill an Indian man and I just knew he was Paul, Rosa’s true love. Then...” Zeke paced in front of the couch. “Hoffman killed Rosa. It—it was an accident. At least it seemed like it was an accident.” He rubbed the back of his head and neck. “But he pushed her and she fell into the well.

“Then I read in the Bible that Luther’s biological father was Paul Two-Rivers.” Zeke searched the pastor’s face.

Nothing.

“Am I crazy, Pastor?” He loathed the plea in his tone.

“No,” the pastor said kindly. “I ... don’t ... Luther never mentioned anything about ghosts. He did have an unusual attraction to the well, however. Give me a minute.”

The pastor lowered his head and mumbled to himself.

He couldn’t hear what the pastor was saying but knew he was praying. Zeke shifted his weight, lowered his eyes, and waited.

Eventually, the pastor raised his head and met Zeke’s eyes.

“Zeke, there is mention of speaking to dead spirits in the Bible. But it’s never a good thing. We are told not to summon the dead.”