Death at a Seance by Carolyn Marie Wilkins

Author:Carolyn Marie Wilkins [Wilkins, Carolyn Marie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781683132141
Publisher: Pen-L Publishing
Published: 2019-11-30T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

From the moment we boarded the train to Claxton, Ralph kept me amused with story after story of his adventures. He’d moved to Aronsville after his family lost their farm, just like me. And like me, he’d lost both his parents. Unlike me, however, he’d taken to city life like a duck to water, at least in part due to his boundless self-confidence. In every chapter of his life, Ralph Barnes was the conquering hero, defeating villains and winning the day. When I asked him if he thought of himself as cocky, he laughed.

“Gotta be, honey. Act like you know what you’re doing and people will believe you. If you don’t believe in yourself, no one will. That’s how I made it through the Battle of the Marne. White folks said when the Huns came at us, we Negroes would run the other way. The American Army wouldn’t even let us carry a gun. But when the French gave us a chance, we showed ’em.”

“You were in the Harlem Hellfighters?” I didn’t want to give Ralph an excuse to swell his head bigger than it already was, but I had to admit, I was impressed. The all-Negro 369th Infantry Division had been decorated by the French government for their heroism during the Great War.

Ralph grinned and flipped me a mock salute. “Sho ’nuff, pretty girl. No one believed in us, but we made our mark just the same. You gotta have confidence. There’s enough folks out there tryin’ ta bring you down. You sho ’nuff don’t need to help them. Don’t you believe in yourself?”

I shrugged. “Never really thought about it. Seems kind of vain to me. You know what the Bible says about pride going before a fall.”

Ralph laughed. “You’re the last person I’d expect to be quoting the Bible at me,” Ralph said. “What with you being a hoodoo woman and all.”

“I wish people would stop calling me that,” I said. “Sister Marie says that I’m a Seer, that I have a gift. But so far it’s brought me nothing but trouble.”

Ralph nodded. “I suppose it doesn’t help that you are so Indian-looking,” he said. “People always trying to figure you out. Must be annoying sometimes.”

“It is,” I said with a sigh. “I probably would not have gotten mixed up with Mrs. Mason at all if I’d looked like an ordinary Negro.”

“True,” Ralph said. “Sam Kerchal wouldn’t have written you any poems either.”

“I try not to think about it too much,” I said softly. “But I s’pose you’re right about that one too.”

“Can you really see the future?”

“Only sometimes. When I get a buzzing in my ear, I know my spirit is talking to me. And before you ask—yes, I really did see a black cloud around that reporter. As clear as I am seeing you right now.”

“My, my,” Ralph said, flashing his trademark grin. “You are really something, Miss Carrie. You really are. Easy to talk to and easy on the eye as well. Now that

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