The Ghosts of Miller's Crossing Read online

  He understood what Father Murray said. “So, this energy, some kind of electromagnetic field, makes you think you are seeing things? If so, I am familiar with that. I read about several studies that pointed to EM fields causing most paranormal experiences.”

  “Well, not exactly Edward. You don’t think you see them. You really see them. They are really there. The energy attracts lost souls and, simply put, we have to help them find their way.”

  Edward thought for a moment. Something Father Murry just said brought clarity to his confusion a week ago in church. He asked, “The sermon?”

  “Yes, last week’s sermon was about this responsibility we have. Those that live here. We have that responsibility to the souls that are lost to help them move along and find their way. It is a responsibility we have not been as diligent about as we should. If we don’t help them, they will continue to search for all eternity at best and, at worst, terrorize us all. Not all spirits are kind and gentle. Those that are kind and gentle pass through our world and do no harm. Those that aren’t can be more dangerous than you can ever imagine.”

  “Wait.” Edward shook head while he rubbed his eyes, remembering back to the first night back in his family’s home. “This isn’t just a prayer-type thing, right? This is really confronting the spirits and moving them?”

  “Oh yes, this is a lot more than prayer.”

  “Did you have to move any about two weeks ago out here?”

  Father Murray looked over at Sheriff Tillingsly, who answered for the both of them. “Yes, we had two spirits that didn’t want to cooperate. I thought I saw a light turn on in the house when we were out in the field. We tried not to wake you.”

  “So that is what I saw that night? You were helping lost souls?”

  “We were there, along with others to make sure everyone in Miller’s Crossing was safe that night and to ensure these souls moved on. The group you saw that night is known as the town elders. Each sworn to take this responsibility, no matter the sacrifice. Your father was one. So was your grandfather. Even your great grandfather was one. Your family is one of our town’s founding members going back almost two hundred years.”

  “That’s why my father left those nights.”

  Sheriff Tillingsly finished taking a sip of coffee. “Yes, Edward. Each of those nights, your father was out helping us. Tonight, we were out following a group of the less kind, but not very evil type when we ran into a group of teenagers. Your daughter was with them. Her friends assumed, because of her age and who you were, that she knew our little secret. So, they took her out hunting spirits. She wasn’t ready for it. Not all female descendants are born with the gift.”

  Edward was about to ask a question when the Sheriff stopped him. “I don’t know what or if she saw anything. It is possible she just freaked out sitting in the woods as all of her friends tried to tell her there were ghosts out there with them. I tried to talk to her a little on the ride back, but she didn’t say much.”

  Father Murray said, “I can talk to her if you want.”

  “No, Father, I can handle it. I need to be the one.” Edward sat back in his chair and mouthed the word “WOW.”

  “It is a lot to take in, and I admit it may be hard for you to believe.”

  “Actually, Sheriff, it is not as hard for me to believe as you think. I spent years thinking I was crazy.”

  Father Murray patted Edward on the shoulder. “That is my fault, my son. The sheriff and others wanted to tell you, but I thought you were too young. In most children, the gift doesn’t show until the early teen years, and you were only seven. I am sorry. If I could go back and change the past, that is one of several things I would change from that night.”

  “It’s late. I’m sure your daughter feels very confused right now. If you’d like, we can talk to her.”

  Edward insisted. “No, let me. Even though I still need to understand things myself, I am her father. It should be from me.”

  Father Murray stood up and slid past Edward while Tillingsly rinsed out his coffee cup in the sink. While grabbing his hat off the counter, Tillingsly remarked, “We should be going, so you can get to that conversation.”

  Edward only nodded. He wanted to seem confident in his ability to speak to his daughter about this, but inside, the butterflies and self-doubt created a hurricane of nerves.

  “One more thing. I would like for you to come out with us tomorrow night. Take your father’s place with us.”

  “Lewis!!!” exclaimed Father Murray.

  “No, it’s OK.” Edward was curious about all this and felt a strong need to understand. “I’m in.”

  Edward bided the two of them a good night and closed the back door behind them before going upstairs to talk to Sarah. He noticed her bedroom door was closed, and it appeared her light was off. He cracked the door open and let out a little sigh of relief when he saw her sleeping. Feeling exhausted, he headed to his room and collapsed on the bed but did not sleep much. A few minutes here and there, but that was all.

  Throughout the night, his mind raced between the hundreds of visions he had seen over his life. He saw his parents several times, both trying to comfort and assure him. As he fell to sleep, he heard Father Murray’s words from earlier mixed with his sermon from the previous Sunday. Words like “responsibility,” “duty,” and “salvation.” Edward woke, sitting straight up after a few hours of restlessness and stared at the clock on the table next to his bed. It was just 3:30 A.M. and still dark outside his window. He got up and walked downstairs for a quick drink of water to soothe his dry mouth. Feeling the cool water slide down the back of his throat was very pleasurable. The only feeling more pleasurable at that moment would be drifting into a deep slumber with a calm mind, which he knows won’t be possible tonight. He was so sure of that, he even uttered “yeah right” out loud. What he didn’t expect was the reply.

  From behind him, he heard the stable and supportive voice of his mother say to him, “No need to panic, son. This is who you are.” Edward spun around. He expected to catch an image of the vision he had seen throughout the years, but he only caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye as she disappeared.

  “What do you mean?” Edward asked the empty room.

  He knew asking the question was pointless. Through the years, he tried many times to talk to or communicate with them. Each time resulted in no response. No sign they heard him, or were even aware he was there. This was also not the first time a vision had spoken to him, but this time there was a warm emotion in her words. A feeling that stirred emotions Edward locked up years ago and now emerged as a single tear building in the corner of his left eye.

  Edward stood there, focused on where her image was just a few moments ago, hoping she would reappear again. He did not say a word. For several moments, he didn’t move. With no reappearance, he crossed his arms and leaned back against the countertop, still not taking his eyes off that spot. After another ten minutes, the area was still void of any presence. Edward headed off to bed feeling a touch of heartbreak, now with something new to ponder.

  14

  Edward awoke to the light of a new morning sneaking in around the outside edge of his window shade. Laying across his bed instead of tucked under the covers, he was unsure if he was just that tired or that restless in his sleep. He sat up on the edge of the bed to wake up. His mind raced through the events of the last twelve hours. The feeling one had when a dream lingered beyond the world of sleep consumed him.

  When he pushed himself out of bed, the face of the clock showed 9:00. He opened his bedroom door, allowing in the sounds of his son and daughter talking and fixing breakfast down in the kitchen. Edward headed down to join them and, when he pushed through the door to the kitchen, he saw what appeared to be a normal morning. One look in Sarah’s eyes told him it was not. The play bickering between his two children was an act by Sarah. Even the way she greeted him was forced and unnatural. Jacob may not have picked up on it, but her father did.

  “Mo
rning, sleepy head. Did you stay up watching a late movie?”

  Edward knew Sarah knew what kept him up so late. Her efforts to avoid any direct eye contact with him confirmed it. Edward went along with this for now. He would need to talk to his daughter alone at some point.

  Edward fixed his coffee and headed upstairs to take a shower and attempted to wash the cobwebs out of his head. When he emerged from the steam-filled bathroom, his body felt more refreshed, but his mind was more occupied than ever. While in the shower, he thought about everything he needed to get done that day. That was when the agreement he made with Sheriff Tillingsly and Father Murray came running to the front of the list. Even though he had many encounters with sprits, he had no idea of what to expect. It frightened him a touch.

  The rest of the morning took on the normal routine. Edward cleaned while his children watched television or engaged in other non-cleaning-related tasks around the house. Through the entire morning, he noticed that Sarah was rather clingy around her brother, and did not want to be alone. On a normal day, she would be in her room on her laptop with the door closed or out walking the field, on her phone. He continued to look for an opening to talk to her, but so far there hadn’t been one.

  Around noon, Jacob headed upstairs, leaving Sarah downstairs watching the last few minutes of a movie alone. When Edward saw her sitting there alone, a lump developed in the back of his throat. Before he could open his mouth and talk, she sprung up from the sofa and headed for the stairs.

  “Dad, a group of friends from school want to go walk around the town center today and look in the shops. They’ll be here in a few. Is it OK?” she asked.

  “That’s fine. Do you have a minute?”

  “Not really. I need to get ready.” She continued up another step on the stairs.

  “Hold up for just a second,” Edward insisted with a tone of voice that caused Sarah to stop in her tracks. She did not turn around. “What happened last night?”

  “It was nothing, really. I know it seemed like something because the sheriff drove me home, but it wasn’t. He said he was heading this way and offered to give me a ride.”

  Edward had seen snowstorms in the past, but nothing like what his daughter just unloaded on him. He pulled out his mental shovel and tried to shovel through it. “You know I wasn’t born yesterday. Sheriff Tillingsly may have been heading this way, and he is an old family friend, but when you came home, something really upset you. What was it?” Edward needed to hear it from her.

  Her shoulders dropped a little as she sighed. “You grew up around here. They have areas out in the woods that can be really spooky. That’s all.” She turned around, looking at her father from the fourth step. “I got a little scared and a few of the people, instead of stopping there, they kept going and I kind of freaked out and got embarrassed.” She stared into his eyes to convince him, but it did not work. “The Sheriff pulled up on us to make sure we weren’t up to any trouble and he saw me in tears. That’s it.”

  Her eyes studied his face to see if he believed her. “Now can I go get ready?”

  He did not believe her, not one bit, but didn’t want to push things. If she saw what Father Murray and the Sheriff said, she had to be confused. “Sure, but be home early. I have something to do tonight.” Before Edward could finish his request, Sarah sprinted upstairs to avoid any further questioning.

  Edward tried to have as normal a Saturday as possible, not wanting to dwell on last night or the night ahead of him. He spent a few hours grading papers, which required complete mental focus, but a part of his mind drifted through what he had learned and events that now made sense. Later on, he and Jacob went outside to toss the pigskin out in their expansive pasture. In between throws, Edward caught himself looking over at the area where he’d seen the group weeks ago. Luckily for him, he looked back just in time to avoid being beamed in the nose like Marcia Brady.

  Sarah’s friends dropped her off just before dinner. She appeared to be more relaxed and more herself now, but not entirely. Edward knew he still needed to sit her down and explain things. Of course, he needed to understand things himself first. He decided it would be best to wait until tomorrow when he understood more.

  The kids were watching a movie when Father Murray arrived just before ten o’clock. Edward explained that Father Murray was hosting a poker game with his friends from the old days, and that he wouldn’t be back too late. At that moment, he flashed back to the times his father had made a similar excuse and walked out the door with Father Murray or then Officer Tillingsly.

  15

  Edward did not ask where they were headed, but the path taken by Father Murray transported him back into the mind and body of a stunned seven-year-old. They pulled into the parking lot of the Miller’s Crossing police station. Edward got out and stood there for a minute, looking around. The building itself looked the same as it did the last time he was there. The sign was different, instead of an old blue painted piece of wood with white letters suspended between two four by four posts, there was a blue sheet of plastic with white illuminated letters: ‘POLICE’.

  He followed Father Murray inside. The station was quiet and empty this time of night with the exception of a few men sitting on the couches in the waiting room. Each of them nodded toward or extended a greeting to their priest.

  “Gentlemen, you remember Edward Meyer, Robert’s boy.”

  An older white-haired man wearing denim overalls and a presence that matched his girth stood up and extended his hand. “Hey, Eddie. John Sawyer. I was a good friend of your pop’s.”

  Edward looked at the man’s weathered face and suppressed his shock. He remembered John Sawyer, but the man in front of him did not resemble him. The John Sawyer he remembered was an in-shape, blonde, outgoing man who always acted like a big kid.

  A second man stood up and welcomed Edward as Sheriff Tillingsly walked in announcing, “Mount up boys. That was Larry Mixon. He spotted a group causing a ruckus out around mile marker 23 on route 471.”

  In mere moments, the room emptied, leaving Edward standing in the center. The Sheriff patted Edward on the shoulder as he walked out. “You can ride with me. You ready for this?”

  Edward gave a single nod and followed him out to the patrol car.

  The convoy of three workhorse pickup trucks, Father Murray’s old Caddy, and a patrol car snaked down the old dark road, surrounded on both sides by old growth oak and pine trees. Edward watched as the various mile markers passed by outside the passenger window of the patrol car. Moments after they passed mile marker 22, blinding red brake lights illuminated from the back of each of the cars and trucks in front. The vehicles pulled off the side of the road and parked.

  Edward took a quick look into the woods on both sides and saw nothing. The rest of the men gathered around Father Murray and the sheriff. Standing on the roadside, Father Murray stared out into the woods. At that moment, Edward felt a familiar impulse to turn and look to his right, but when he did, he saw nothing.

  “Where to, Father?” one man asked.

  “This way,” Father Murray said as he headed in the direction that pulled at Edward seconds ago.

  With Father Murray leading the way, the group that reminded Edward of an old-time posse you’d see in the Western movies followed, pushing through the deep and thick woods and underbrush. Edward felt that impulse again, stronger and colder now. To him, he felt it came from farther right of their path. Father Murray turned right as well, leading the group in that direction. What Edward felt differed from anything he had felt before. It usually felt familiar, like the arrival of an old friend. This time, there was a feeling of dread when it arrived, and the feeling grew the further in they walked.

  Father Murray stopped, letting the rest of the posse close ranks behind him. Among the sounds of crickets and the occasional croak of a frog, in the distance there was something that resembled the same sound Edward heard out in his pasture that night. A sound that no animal he knew of could make. Father Murray pra
yed under his breath and the rest of the posse crossed themselves in unison. Edward did the same. As Father Murray took a step forward, he snatched Edward by the arm, pulling him up by his side. Above a whisper he said, “Stand by me the whole time, Eddie. Remember, this is your calling.”

  A few steps forward and they finally came into view. There were four of them intermingled in the forest. Unlike their pursuers, these creatures moved with ease through the dense forest and underbrush. They were unaware the group of men until Father Murray recited Proverbs 28:9 out loud.

  “Whoever turns his ear away from hearing the law, even his prayer is detestable.”

  All four stopped and turned toward Father Murray. He reached under his robe, searching for something. When he found it, he pulled it out and handed the rosary to Edward. “This was your father’s. Hold on to it and repeat after me.”

  Edward took the rosary in his left hand as Father Murray grabbed him by both shoulders. The old priest glared into his eyes from under his black wide-brimmed hat. “And Edward, you must repeat with conviction. Do not let your faith wane, or it will put us in a very dangerous situation.”

  The old priest held up his own rosary and recited, “Glorious St. Michael, Prince of the heavenly hosts.”

  Father Murray paused and looked at Edward who, with a quiver in his voice, repeated the line. “Glorious St. Michael, Prince of the heavenly hosts.”

  “Be strong and repeat what I say, immediately after me,” ordered Father Murray. He continued, “who standest always ready to give assistance to the people of God.”

  Edward repeated, staring straight ahead, “who standest always ready to give assistance to the people of God.”

  “Who didst fight with the dragon, the old serpent, and didst cast him out of heaven.”

  As Edward was about to repeat the line, the four visions disappeared and then reappeared inches from Father Murray. The old priest’s conviction and determination did not waver. “Edward! Repeat the line.”