The Dunewalkers by Ron Ripley

Author:Ron Ripley [Ripley, Ron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-03-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 30: Jenny, Sylvia, and Jeannette

The three women sat at the table in silence.

Jenny was certain the look on Sylvia’s face mirrored her own.

Jeannette, for her part, filled her cup with tea and calmly sipped from it.

“Leo’s grandmother was your instructor?” Sylvia finally said.

“Yes,” Jeannette said with a nod. She smiled. “I had lost touch with her decades before I met Leo, mind you. And Leo’s last name was his father’s. Thus, I did not know Leo from his father when Leo introduced himself.”

“Was she strong when you knew her?”

“Florence?” Jeannette asked. “Incredibly so. Frightfully so. You see, when I was injured attempting to bind the ghost, Florence stepped forward. She didn’t cajole or attempt to stop the dead with the spell. She grasped the spirit as easily as if it were nothing more than an old shirt. Then Leo’s grandmother stuffed it into the book I used to focus my thoughts upon while trying to help those who had passed.”

“What book?” Jenny asked, her stomach quivering uneasily.

“A Lilliput edition of Shakespeare’s Macbeth,” she smiled. “My husband had purchased the entire set for me when we were dating.”

“Small and red?” Sylvia asked in a low voice.

“Why yes,” Jeannette said, nodding. “I lost it years ago. Oh, good Lord, the last time I remember seeing it was before I became a teacher at the high school.”

“Leo had it,” Sylvia said.

Jenny nodded. “I saw it when he came to our house.”

“Where did he get it?” Jeannette asked, confused.

“The hospital,” Sylvia said. She gestured towards Leo’s journal on the table. “I read about it earlier.”

“How strange,” Jeannette said in low voice. She shook her head. “I really don’t remember losing it. Or getting rid of it. I know I never brought it to the hospital. The last place I remember using it was in a house in Maine.”

Jenny cleared her throat and asked, “Where in Maine?”

Jeannette frowned for a moment as she tried to remember. “Ah. A little town called Wells. Right near Ogunquit. Do you know where it is?”

Jenny could only nod.

“What did you do there?” Sylvia asked, and Jenny could hear the tension in her friend’s voice.

“I helped a woman who lived on the beach. Her husband had been one of my husband’s doctoral professors, and they reached out to us. She, Mrs. Oso, felt there was a ghost in her house,” Jeannette said.

“And there was?” Sylvia asked.

Jeannette nodded. “There was. The ghost didn’t want to leave, though.”

“Why?” Jenny asked.

“He, the ghost had been a young man when he died,” Jeannette said, “told me he was waiting for someone. A woman. He had gotten lost and couldn’t find his way back. When I asked him if he wanted to move on, to leave the house, he told me he only wanted to get back to the woman.”

Before Jenny or Sylvia could ask another question, Jenny heard a car door close. Sylvia got up, looked out the front window and a moment later she was letting Brian in.

Jenny stood up and hurried to him.

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