Chapter 22

Today, he wanted answers. If the pastor couldn’t answer his questions, maybe the ghosts could. He moved swiftly across the grey-blue path, pounding out the distance to the woods and the wishing well. So much mystery. So much consternation. He hadn’t summoned the ghosts. They came to him. What did they want? What did they need? He was tired of not knowing.

Prickling sensations impishly tip-toed around his tattoo. A sinking sense of fear clawed at his mind and slowed his step. He strained to force his sight to penetrate the thickening mist. His senses tingled as a crazy thought floated to the surface of his awareness.

Was the mist alive?

He tried to call Rosa’s name, but his throat was too dry. He swallowed and willed saliva into his mouth. He swallowed again.

“Rosa,” he croaked. He cleared his throat. “Rosa.”

Panic snaked through him. What if there was no Rosa or Hoffman? What if they were hallucinations? Luther told the pastor everything, but he didn’t mention this. What if...? The thought caught in his mind like debris clogs a narrow stream. What if Zeke had lost his mind?

“Zeke.” Rosa’s gentle voice broke his terror-saturated reverie.

There she stood. She was real. Zeke sucked in air and blew out relief. As real as a ghost could be, at least.

“Rosa,” Zeke whispered and stepped toward her. “I ... I need to talk to you.”

“What about?” Her pale blue eyes exuded kindness. She had paused at the edge of the tree line. Her hand lightly rested on one of the slender trunks. Her eyes followed him.

When he talked to the pastor, his thoughts were easy to articulate. Now they were scattered like leaves on a pond. Why the difference?

Then he remembered. The pastor prayed. It wasn’t until after he agreed with the pastor, said Amen, his thoughts aligned.

He held up one finger and spun around with his back to her. Lowering his head, he thought of his mother. Just say what’s on your heart, son.

He whispered as he asked for God’s help. Then he whirled around to find Rosa directly behind him. He couldn’t stop the knee-jerk reaction. He flinched.

Her outstretched hands were inches from his shoulders. As her eyes met his, she lowered her hands and overlapped them against her diaphragm. “What is it?”

He glanced at her hands then returned his gaze to her eyes. “I saw you die.”

Pain flashed in her eyes, then sadness. She dropped her gaze and covered her mouth with her fingers. She inhaled deeply and pressed her shoulders back. As she exhaled, she raised her chin. “Yes, but it was an accident.”

“Paul, too?”

She bit her lip. Her gaze dropped to the ground again and her shoulders rounded.

“He was your true love, wasn’t he?” Zeke gently pushed.

“Yes.” The word escaped her lips, but he heard it like a breeze through the trees.

“And the father of your baby.” Zeke hated the pain he caused, but he had to know. He needed answers.

A tear fell from her eye. “Yes.”

The word echoed deep in the woods.

“Why—why didn’t you go to the other side?”

Rosa’s head shot up. She stared at him, her eyebrows drew tightly together. At last, she said, “I was supposed to. I ... I couldn’t.”

“Rosa...” This was the question he dreaded the most. “You’re Luther’s mother, aren’t you?”

She nodded slowly. “ ... Yes.”

An awkward smile pressed his lips taut. The silence lingered between them. Eventually, he pressed on. “Is ... are you here because of the curse?”

“No. I don’t think so. Although...” She looked around. “That family curse could have something to do with us all being without our true loves. That would explain a lot. At least in my mind.”

All? Zeke glanced at the trees. What did he expect to see? People among them? Who’s this all? He pressed on. “My Unc ... Luther asked me to break the family curse and resolve true love.”

“Hmm.” She pushed out her bottom lip and nodded.

“Is that because he wanted me to help you ... go to the other side?” The words were wrong in his mouth. “Move on to where you belong?”

“I’m sure it does.” Her pale blue eyes glistened with new tears.

He looked deeply into her unforgettable eyes. “How do I help you do that?”

The pink hue of her cheeks drained to ashen gray. “I don’t know.”

“I promise you this much,” Zeke said. “I will do everything I can to figure it out.”

“You’re a sweet boy. You do remind me a lot of Luther.”

“Thank you.” He straightened. “I wish I had known him. It seems he was a good man.”

“He was. But then again, I am biased.” A watery smile stretched her mouth.

But there was something else in her eyes.