The Ghost Girl - Episode 29

THE ARRIVAL AT RIVERGATE

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

During the whole conversation Cali had been watching the water ahead, and now she yelled, “New current, branches in the Cedar current!”
Sharon steered rapidly about thirty degrees to the left, and that was enough to send the boat sliding downstream as they crossed the river. It was an eerie feeling, as if Sharon had lost control of the boat, but soon she straightened out their course near the left hand shore. “What’s that!” asked Sara, pointing upstream. The river had become two different colors, as muddy water entered from the right.
“It’s the first of two forks,” replied Cali. “That’s Cedar Creek coming in. See? In a minute we’ll go right on by. And wait till we go up the Snake just before we’re home. That’s a real sight.” Sara looked at Cali in admiration. “How did you learn all this? It’s quite a job. I have no idea how you and Sharon manage it.”
“I grew up with it,” answered Cali. “I used to be in Sharon’s Boat Club. She teaches teenagers, and promotes students to be captains. They run a ferry service with a lot of small boats.” They all stared as they passed the Cedar Creek coming in from the marsh. The view opened up. Instead of forest they saw tall pale grasses blowing in the cool wind. Thick gray clouds blocked the sun. Rain was in the air. They were startled as a great blue heron rose from a field of tall reeds, and flapped its enormous gray-blue wings. It slowly disappeared in the distance, heading upstream, flying low over the marsh. Abby noticed three turkey vultures – with their strange red heads and huge, motionless black wings – soar high above. Everyone was silent, watching the wild landscape. Smaller birds and pools of water dotted the grassland to their right.
“What’s that?” exclaimed Sara. “It’s like a giant insect with all those legs!”
“The Highway 71 Bridge,” said Cali. “Looks strange from here, doesn’t it? Kind of doesn’t belong. I think they brought the highway through here because it’s the only pass over the cliffs for miles.” Eight thick pillars held the giant highway as it crossed above the Half Moon River and at least a hundred yards of land on either side. ‘It would take a tsunami to wash that thing down,’ Abby thought. Soon they could hear the traffic – especially the many 18-wheelers – speeding above them.
“You can see the Snake coming in on the right up there.” Cali pointed ahead. “We head up it and dock on the left.” A wide sheet of sluggish water flowed in to join the Half Moon. The river at that point was almost like a small lake.
“And there’s Rivergate!” cried Cali.
Rivergate Island was shaped like a giant boat, with its bow coming to a point at the fork between the rivers. The land quickly rose to a narrow plateau. Abby could see up the lazy water of the Snake to Rivergate Bridge, a much lower two-lane version of the Highway 71 colossus. Even from a distance she saw the high water washing up on both sides to where the bridge hit the land. It was obvious why the bridge was closed. A few small boats were making the crossing from Rivergate to the highway access road and back.
The River Queen labored through the slow dark water. Sharon steered toward the shore as the island grew wider. At the curve of the river a long sand bar appeared, making a small harbor sheltered from the current. Hugging the bank on the left, Sharon brought the boat slowly into calm water. She put the motor into idle and coasted toward a dock, built like a long raft floating on barrels tied to the shore. Abby was amazed at the number of small boats crowding the dock and shoreline for at least a mile. Sharon turned sharply to the left, and slid gently into an empty space on the bank.
“We’re home!” called Sharon. “Thanks for your patience! For those coming back tomorrow, we leave at eight o’clock sharp.” The group cheered and shouted their thanks.

The Ghost Girl - Episode 27

THE RIVER QUEEN

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

As the community council meeting ended and people began to depart, Abby heard a familiar gruff voice behind her: “Do you have a moment?”
She turned to see Sammy smiling at her.
“I thought I might see you here,” he said, and handed her an envelope. “I calculate twenty hours of work… I hope that’s okay, we made a lot of money the nights you worked, and please, come and work at the coffee shop tomorrow if you can.”
“Oh!” she said in surprise, feeling the rather thick envelope. “What a relief! I’m broke right now. Thank you, thank you!” She gave him a hug.
“Let me know your plans, we’re reopening tomorrow.”
“Oh, I wish I could, but I’ll be gone for a day or two visiting my parents in Rivergate. But I’ll come by Thursday or Friday.”
“Don’t take too long now,” he said, and moved off to talk to Stephanie.
Phoebe pulled Abby to the side where they could not be overheard. “Please,” she said, “find out all you can about the real reason for this ‘relocation business’ Pastor Banks was talking about. The state and the corporations, what’s in it for them? I have a guess about that… something we should discuss.”
Abby stared into space for a moment and looked back at Phoebe. “Ah, you’re quick. I can guess too. I’ll get right back to you.”

The following morning early Abby rushed to pack a few things for her journey to Rivergate. It occurred to her that the watchers would certainly notice her departure, and could take the opportunity to search her cottage overnight. The lock on the front door was virtually worthless. The only thing among her few possessions that might interest the Morphy organization was her collection of seeds, so on her way out Abby stopped by Reverend Tuck’s office. He was fine with her plan to visit her parents, and took the bag of seeds to hold overnight. As Abby headed out the gate she noticed the eyes of two men on her. “Okay,” she thought. “I was right. They’ll follow me and see me leave in the boat.” She had to bite her tongue to keep from looking behind her. Like a soldier she marched down toward Main Street, and from a distance saw a group in front of the garden center. Isaiah, Pastor Banks, Ishmael, Cali, and Alison were already standing amid their bags and a wagon of some kind. “There’s my girl!” exclaimed Isaiah. She received hugs all around. 
One of those new super-compact cars sped into the parking lot and came to a stop, skidding on the gravel. Out jumped Sara Williams carrying a huge canvas bag, and ran over to the group. “Just on time,” said Isaiah. “Okay everyone, we’re off. Thank you again, Alison, you’re the best!” Pushing the wagon like an oversize shopping cart, he led the group across the street and down a path to the river’s edge. A few feet of open ground sloped down to the water, and a fair sized boat was aground there, it’s bow wedged into the mud. 
“The River Queen!” yelled Cali, and ran forward. “Sharon!” A tall dark skinned woman in a long-sleeved tee shirt and jeans stood there holding the bow line. Abby noticed she wore a cap identical to Cali’s, with the words Black Hills on the front.
The bow of the boat did not come a point, but formed a flat ramp that Sharon had lowered to the ground, enabling Isaiah to push the cart aboard. Everyone followed and sat on the side benches. Sharon raised the ramp, pushed the boat out into the river, and jumped aboard. In a moment the boat was heading upstream, hugging the shoreline where the current was slow. Soon they passed under the arch of the Main Street Bridge, struggling against the fast water, and then hugged the shoreline again. The branches of willow trees dripped right down to the river, forcing them to duck as they glided through. Pastor Banks sat behind the wheel with Sharon while Isaiah and Ishmael sat on a bench working on the lyrics to a song. Abby and Sara joined Cali leaning against the flat bow of the boat. Cali never took her eyes off the river ahead, and was constantly warning Sharon about floating branches, rocks, unusual currents,and oncoming boats. Abby studied the shoreline and was amazed by the high water, running over the bank and sweeping away anything in its path. They passed small boats on the way, shooting downstream in the center of the current. A man in a canoe yelled out, “Fallen tree, branches, hole on the right! Go left! Left!” In a second he was gone downstream. Cali stopped talking and focused on the water ahead.

The Ghost Girl - Episode 24

THE JOURNALISM STUDENT ENTERS THE SCENE

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

Terrence Williams, standing behind the circle with his daughter Shannon, spoke next: “My daughter and I live in Half Moon and are new to this church, but I want to say that we love what we see. You’ve got something good going on in this town, something we believe in. I’m a lawyer with a few connections, I manage my daughter’s soccer team that has been practicing behind the toy store and the coffee shop, and we will do all we can to support this group.”
The children began cheering as if they were watching their sports team win the big game.
“I’d also like to introduce my niece, Sara Williams, a journalism student from Evansville College. She may be able to present our story to the public in a more accurate way than… some other newspapers…” Laughter broke out around the group, but Terrence went right on, saying, “She may be able to reach out to people by telling the truth. Go ahead, stand up, Sara, let the people know who you are.” He waved to his niece, the new girl sitting next to Stephanie.
Sara rose as people waved to her and said hello. “Hi everyone,” she replied, “I’m doing an internship with Stephanie’s uncle, Freddy Baez, at the Evansville record. You may have seen his article and photos in yesterday’s paper. He’s asked me to follow developments here and write articles for the Record. I’m very interested in all that you’re doing, and I want to win support for the projects planned by this council.” She looked people in the eye and smiled. Her Afro hair-cut was tied up in a red bandana, and her face seemed to glow with enthusiasm. “I’ll be here often over the coming school year and I’m excited to meet everyone.”
People clapped again and a few stood up to shake her hand. Side conversations began to expand around the room, but Terrence had not finished. “One last thing I’d like to say! I think we should ask Phoebe and Gilligan and Sammy and their friends how they’ve been able to draw such crowds and help their stores prosper for all of us, despite the obstacles the powerful have thrown in their way.”
The eyes of the group moved to Phoebe and Gilligan. Suddenly someone yelled, “Hey! Sammy’s here too!” Cheers and yells, questions and comments erupted across the circle as everyone turned to Sammy, who was standing quietly near the door. The crowd gave him a standing ovation. “How’d you get out of jail?” someone yelled. “Is the coffee shop reopened? Congratulations to Sammy!”
The old man had tears in his eyes and waved his hand. “Terrence,” he said, “you and Wyndaman and the other lawyers… and Stephanie, you and your uncle at the Evansville Record, all deserve the credit. We'll be open for business tomorrow.”
“That goes for us too!” cried Gilligan from the other side of the circle. “The toy store will be open, same time, same place.”
Again cheers rang out. Some of the children and teens yelled, “What about the soccer field? What about us?”
“Yes!” Phoebe had to raise her voice to be heard. “Luis and I opened the field today for a couple of hours, and everything will continue as before. Shannon, Nico, Hoel and Geo ran over to talk to Phoebe, and people began to speak in small groups about the news.

The Ghost Girl - Episode 20

THE COMMUNITY COUNCIL BEGINS

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

On his way out the door Police Chief Santiago told Abby, Phoebe, Reverend Tuck, and Geraldine that there was a bright side to recent events. “You’ll be glad to hear that the toy store and the coffee shop will reopen soon, perhaps even tomorrow. The Department of Health has ruled that neither store is a danger to the public, or has done anything illegal.”
They clapped and cheered. “However,” the Chief went on, “they will not allow the greenmarket in the courtyard or the concerts in the coffee shop to continue, due to complaints from the public… so called. It’s not like the town voted. But there you have it. I know you have a church meeting coming up, so I’ll be on my way. Please give my regrets, I’d love to stay, but some people may get the wrong idea. You understand.” In a moment he was out the door.
Geraldine was the first to speak: “Thank God for Daniel Santiago, a real public servant. I love that man… you know what I mean.” Abby and Phoebe laughed. Tuck took a deep breath and reminded them anxiously that they had another complicated meeting coming up. “We probably have guests from Rivergate in the basement already,” he said.
They followed him down to the large recreation room, and could hear the voices of a crowd from a distance. On entering Abby saw a dozen people she knew at a glance. Isaiah Banks was nearby talking to a young woman in a baseball cap. He quickly pulled Abby aside and said, “There’s something you should know right away. Join us, Cali! Meet Abby and tell her your news.”
Abby recalled Isaiah’s habit of being everyone’s parent or uncle or older brother, even for people twice his age. He had a kind of charisma Abby remembered from her childhood, the ability to bring people together and reach out to those needing help. “He must be 25 now, and probably organized this meeting,” Abby thought. She hadn’t seen him for eight years.
Cali barely came up to the tall, thin Isaiah’s shoulder. She had short hair and a multi-colored baseball cap with the words BLACK HILLS written on the front. “Okay!” Cali burst out. “So I was leaving the house today and got introduced to the new people who’ve taken one of the rooms, and they are your parents!” Abby stared, speechless with relief. “They looked fine and everything,” Cali reassured her. “We talked for a few minutes.”
“But how do you know they’re my parents?”
“Because Sonny introduced them and said they are.”
“Sonny Walker? Are they living with him?”
“Well, sort of. Sonny takes care of a couple of houses near his land. He organizes people to clean them up and let’s people move in. It’s kind of a shared situation. Sonny grows food, they share a kitchen, like that. But Sonny doesn’t live there, he sleeps in the shanty.
“Oh! Thank you, thank you!” Abby clapped her hands. “I’ve got to visit right away.”
Abby embraced Cali, who smiled and blushed.
“They asked me to speak to you,” Cali went on. “They had tears when Sonny said you’re here at the church.”
“I’ve got to see them! How did you all get here tonight?”
Cali and Isaiah looked at each other. “The Snake River Bridge is closed as of two days ago,” Isaiah said. “We had to take the boat.”
“The boat! To Middletown? Oh! Tell me about it.”
“Well,” Isaiah continued, “it seems like Sonny foresaw all this flooding, because his daughter and him went to River City a few weeks ago and bought a used river launch, a flat bottomed old aluminum boat with a decent motor. You remember his daughter Sharon – she’s right over there – always a nut about boats and fishing and exploring the swamp. When the high water came she started taking ten people to their jobs Middletown and Half Moon and back in the evening. She brings supplies too. A lot of other people have been ferrying three or four customers at a time across the Snake to the highway ramp.”
“Wow,” said Abby, a little dazed. “I shouldn’t be so surprised. This problem has been growing for years. They’re always moving the docks to higher ground.”
“At first,” Isaiah said, “it just seemed like us poor folks in ‘Swamptown’, as they call us, were getting the short end of the stick again. But then we realized that this is a bigger problem… it includes everyone! That’s our message here tonight.”
“We can all see it more clearly now,” Abby said. “Can I come back to Rivergate with you tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Isaiah replied. “It costs $10, but we got you covered.”

The Ghost Girl - Episode 19

A WARNING FROM THE CHIEF

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

By 4:30 Abby was knocking on Tuck’s door, and he opened right away. “I was just coming to get you,” he said. “This has become a bigger meeting than I thought. Chief Santiago brought Geraldine and Phoebe with him. They’re up in my office already.”
“Oh boy,” thought Abby. “Here we go. Why can’t things just calm down a little.”
Chief Santiago was already seated at the head of the conference table, with Dr. Bear and Phoebe on either side. They all rose for a warm hello with shaking of hands and hugs.
“Well, It’s nice to see you folks recovering,” said Chief Santiago. “As you know, it’s my job to clear up unanswered questions about the incident at the abandoned house. I think I’m aware of the basic sequence of events. Abby was living in that house, the mob arrives, Phoebe steps in to fight off a few people bearing burning logs or branches, Abby and Phoebe confront the mob, and then Tuck, Dr. Bear, and Jeremy arrive and the mob flees. Driving up the dirt road, I see their back as they run into the forest. Everyone agree with that?”
The chief looked around the table, and everyone nodded. He turned on a small pocket recorder. Abby wished this meeting were over already. “Now the surprising thing,” the chief continued, “is that not one of you has named or described any of that mob so far. Well, it’s time to go on the record. I’ll be recording this interview unless any of you wish to object. All right with you? Here we go then.”
He began by questioning Tuck and Geraldine, who both replied that they arrived in the dark only to see a crowd with torches on the lawn. The wind was gusting hard and the light was bad, and they could not be sure of recognizing anyone.
The chief then turned to Abby. She described peeking out the door and calling Phoebe to join her and flee through the back of the house. It was only at the last minute when she was sure that Phoebe would stand her ground that she stepped out, and the crowd was far back at that point.
“I’ve left you for last,” Tuck told Phoebe. “You had the best chance to see who was there. You followed them all the way from the church. You confronted them for, what?... At least ten minutes? Who was there?”
Abby was surprised by Phoebe’s composure. In a calm voice she explained that she had to follow the mob at a distance in complete darkness. The storm clouds had blanketed the moon and stars. She only stepped onto the porch when the house was threatened, and people backed away when she appeared ready to swing a heavy branch. Yes, she admitted, she did swing at one man carrying a burning log onto the porch, and yes, she thought she recognized voices and shapes in the shifting light. But she could not be certain, and would not swear by it. A court of law, she noted, is not the place to be guessing.
Chief Santiago was twisting the end of his grey moustache as he turned off the recorder. Wrinkles fanned out from the corners of his eyes as he squinted at the group. “Now if you don’t mind,” he said, “I’d like to give you some advice… No, more like a warning. Needless to say I don’t believe some portions of your testimony – now don’t interrupt!” He held up his palm and looked them in the eye. “I’m not asking for information, or trying to change anyone’s story. I regard you all as friends of mine, and I worry about your safety.”
He looked around the table again. They sat back in silence. “Yes, I do worry,” he continued. “And not only about you, but about all of us. The situation in this town – and in this state and country as a whole – resembles a cold war. It breaks out into violence only occasionally, but it’s heating up. And it’s a war between David and Goliath. When law enforcement and justice fail, the strong usually rule. They take advantage to the situation to get whatever they want. And the weak sufer, and lose what ever they have that the strong want. A billion dollars can buy a lot of power and privilege.”
He let this sink in. “So what’s my point?” he asked. “Just this: you’re all serious risks here. You’ve placed this battle beyond the reach of justice, and that means you’re on your own. Oh, I know you have your reasons, and they may be justified. But I hope you’ve got a plan and the ability to follow through. It’s not going to be easy.”
The chief waited for a moment in silence. “I don’t want to leave you with the impression that it’s just you. We’re all taking risks, all the time. Life is one big risk, but especially now.” He paused. “Any comments?”
No one replied.

The Ghost Girl - Episode 17

IN REVEREND TUCK’S OFFICE

Illustration By Lawrence Tate

Illustration By Lawrence Tate

After Jeremy’s departure Abby made another nut butter and honey sandwich and drank a cup of Breakfast Mixture, hot and full of the flavor of bitter chocolate and mint. She realized that Tuck should know as soon as possible about their decision to refuse to press charges and appear in court over the assault on Phoebe and Abby at the haunted house.
“And I’ll call my parents too,” she thought. She had tried several times over the last two days to reassure them that she was okay, but had received no answer. In fact she hadn’t spoken to them for months, and her feelings of guilt -- and her constant self-criticism -- had been increasing every day.
Abby knocked on Tuck’s door for almost five minutes and was about to leave when he finally appeared. “Sorry,” he said. “I was in the middle of a phone call. What’s up?”
“I need to use the phone too,” she replied.”
“Get a cell phone as soon as you can. We have reception now all the way to the forest. That new Phones and More store on Main Street sells decent used phones.”
In Tuck’s office Abby sat behind his desk and looked out the window. The same two men lounged on a bench in front of the Middletown Standard office across the street. “They must be Morphy’s watchers,” she thought. “Are they really observing the churchyard 24/7? It’s hard to believe… this conflict is still heating up!”
“Reverend Tuck,” Abby said suddenly, “I need to tell you something.”
“Yes?” he said, taking a seat opposite her.
“I’ve been thinking it over, and I really can’t be certain who the men were – you know, the ones carrying the torches Saturday night. The light was crazy, and I was back behind the front door until the very end. And you should know that Geraldine and Phoebe can’t be sure either. I just don’t think Chief Santiago can bring any charges unless there’s some new development.”
“Well, well,” returned Tuck, “You young folks certainly know how to pick your battles.” He smiled. “Don’t forget, I was there too, and I can’t be sure who was there either.”
“And there’s more news I want to tell you,” Abby went on. “I hear that Phoebe and George and Jeremy – and probably Stephanie and Eddy and others – are coming to this council meeting tomorrow night. They want to join as permanent members with me, and we already have ideas.”
“I’m thrilled to hear it! But about these ideas… can I get any advance warning?”
“We’d like to plan fund-raising events for the church and Rivergate both. Maybe a series of festivals with music, food, children’s games, and a tour of the work going on in the churchyard once it’s ready for an audience.”
Tuck was speechless for a moment, and then exclaimed, “This is exactly what we need! We – meaning this church – need help even more than you know. Our finances have been an impossible challenge over the last five years. The Sunday offering pays only a fraction of our yearly budget. We depend upon grants and donations from the very wealthy for the rest. And you may be aware that people with money don’t like us. We usually don’t share the same goals.”
“But that’s what we all admire,” Abby said. “Your courage in the face of the powerful. We’re just copying you.”
Tuck laughed. “We’ll work together,” he said.
Abby dialed her parents’ number, and was answered by a voice recording. She gave Tuck a look of dismay. “It’s no longer a working number,” she told him. “I guess they’ve moved or something.” Her eyes shifted vacantly around the room, seeing nothing.
“I’ll help you,” returned Tuck, trying to make eye contact. “Don’t worry, I’ll find a forwarding address in a hurry. I’ve got the phone numbers and emails of hundreds of people. Promise me you won’t brood over this. I’ll speak to you as soon as I have news.”
Abby walked back to the cottage deep in thought. She lay down and stared into space.

The Ghost Girl - Episode 16

SEEDS AND HOT COMPOST

Abby awoke with a cool breeze coming through her window and golden sunlight shining on the floor. After a cup of Breakfast Mixture she walked outside and looked around – at the weather, the grass, the trees, the leaves and branches on the ground. She observed the open spaces that received sunlight, and the spaces in shadow. Soon she hammered a few sticks into the earth, marking off the corners of a garden that she would create in the coming week. The soil was hard-packed with stones, and needed fresh compost. Following this train of thought, Abby walked over to the mulch pile, the mountain of leaves contained in the privet hedge. She carved out a hole with her hands, and found a layer of damp leaves and sticks, mown grass and plants. Going deeper, the soil became a decomposing mixture. Worms slithered out of the way. Centipedes darted into hiding. And deeper still lay pure dark fluffy soil, the most nutritious food for plants on the planet.
“Yes!” said Abby to herself. “I thought so! Oh baby, the things we can do!”
“Abby!” called Jeremy, walking toward her. “I was afraid I’d missed you.”
“Jeremy! Are you coming from the haunted house? Did you find my things?”
“Yes and yes!” he replied. “No problem.”
“Oh, I’m so happy! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

They walked to the tool shed and Jeremy pulled Abby’s bike, sleeping bag, guitar case, and backpack out from behind the canvas and set them on the grass. With a trembling hand she unzipped the backpack and poured an overflowing pile of seed packets onto the unrolled sleeping bag. They both sat down to examine them. Each packet was just a sheet of paper folded into a sort of envelope, and filled with seeds.
“That’s amazing,” Jeremy told her. “There must be at least fifty of them.”
“More than that,” returned Abby. “At least a hundred.”
Jeremy picked out an envelope at random and read the name scrawled on paper. “What’s Old N. Amaranth?” he asked.
Abby hesitated, and finally said, “That’s a very special variety, passed down over… thousands of years. It’s named for the people who lived in the forest. They were a part of the Half Moon People, those who farmed this area long ago.” Abby’s eyes glittered. She glanced up at Jeremy, and felt both pleased and distressed that he was attending to her every word. 
“I’d so like to know more,” he said. “In a way it’s a part of my new education, my studies in the forest. And maybe, just maybe, I could teach you some things too.”
“And what might those things be?” asked Abby with a smile.
Jeremy looked away in confusion, blushing around the neck and cheek.
“Oh!!” thought Abby. “I didn’t realize it would sound like that!” Looking down to ease his embarrassment, she wondered if she’d done it on purpose, and worried that these feelings could soon lead to conflicts.
But Jeremy quickly resumed his normal air of passionate intellectual interest and emotional detachment. “Well,” he said, “I realize you know almost everything about plants and trees. But just as an example, how’re you gonna heat this place?”
“I do have the wood burning stove,” Abby replied.
“That cabin isn’t even insulated. You’ll be freezing on a cold night unless you wake up and feed the fire. Your pipes will freeze and break.”
“So spell it out for me,” returned Abby. “What are you thinking?”
“Hot compost,” replied Jeremy. “All we would need would be a chipper. I think you’ve got enough wood and leaves and greens to make a compost pile, say eight by eight by six. We’ll run a plastic pipe from your cabin at floor level, up through the pile, and turning back into the cabin at ceiling level. The pipe will suck out cold air, heat it as it runs up through the compost, and send it back inside as warm air.”
“Who’s teaching you?” asked Abby.
“It’s the Energy Project in the forest.”
“Let’s try it,” said Abby, clapping her hands. “I’ll learn from you, and I’ll teach you about gardening. God knows I need help. How much time do you have?”
“Whoa, that’s a problem. I really want to do it, but give me a day to think about my job and talk to Jim. And then there’s the band.” Jeremy looked off into the distance. “Very hard choices,” he said.

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

The Ghost Girl - Episode 15

THE THREE MAKE A PLAN

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

A rushing noise came from a distance, and then the trees swayed in the wind. Wispy clouds passed over the moon. The weather was changing.
“I’m glad you’re coming out so strong!” Phoebe told Abby. “We’ll all follow you. By the way, Jeremy and Stephanie and Eddie already begged me to avoid the whole mess. They say the most expensive lawyer always wins. And I’ve certainly got other things I want to do! We need to reopen the toy store and the coffee shop and the soccer fields, and get some kind of leadership going on around here. People actually look up to us! They follow what we’re doing. We have a responsibility.” Her voice scraped and cracked from the constant whispering. Abby’s heart went out to her, expressing such emotion with her face still black and blue.

“And I’m going to need your help,” whispered Abby. “We’re beginning a new campaign at the community council meeting on Tuesday. It’s more important than you know… there’s dangerous issues just two weeks down the road. Please come.”
“We already plan to be there,” George replied. “All of us. And I know Ishmael Banks – the pastor’s son – from hanging around the Half Moon Music Center. He’s the best guitarist I’ve ever heard, and he’s younger than me. And they’ve got a mission too. The bridge to their town is flooded out!”
Abby leaned forward and whispered, “I need your help on one more problem.”
“Tell us,” returned George. “What can we do?”
“Tuck doesn’t let me out of here yet, so I need someone to go to the haunted house for me. I could sneak out but that house will be watched and I’ll be followed. But I need a few things that are hopefully still there. On the second floor in the room just to the right of the stairs there’s a hole in the sheet rock. Reach along the wall to your left and you’ll find a backpack full of small packets of seeds. I need them very, very badly.”
“Got it,” replied George, taking notes.
“And if you’ll reach back there to the right you’ll feel my guitar in a canvas case. I need that too.”
“You play guitar?” asked George in amazement.
“A little bit,” Abby shyly replied. “Just for myself. But I’ll show you sometime.”
“That would be… I mean I would love that.” He was clearly thrilled.
“Oh!” Abby went back to her previous train of thought. “In my basement room – Phoebe will tell you where it is – my sleeping bag is there. I’m going to need it. And under the collapsed back porch is my bike. I know it’s a lot to ask… but I would be very grateful.”
“I’ll do it,” said George.
Phoebe shook her head. “George, I know it’s a pain, but you shouldn’t be seen collecting this stuff and riding back into the churchyard. In a way we’ve been successful by not appearing to be a group. You’ve convinced them that you’re mainly interested in money and moving up in the world, and have no other goals or loyalties. They can work with that. They understand making money and moving up in the world. But as soon as they see you’re all about being tight with us, your opportunities as a spy will be over, and they’ll take revenge. You might need to quit this spy thing soon...”
Abby cut in, saying: “Tuck has stressed these rules to me over and over: no friends in the cottage, no anything that could be photographed and used against us. Tuck is scared. He could lose his job. The old school building looks abandoned, and the church must be broke. And an election for the board of trustees is coming up in two weeks! We’ve got to help raise money for the church and Rivergate both. Don’t forget, I was born in Rivergate, I have relatives and childhood friends there. They are my people by birth.”
Phoebe and George waited quietly. This was a side of Abby they had only seen from a distance, and it had given Abby a cloak of mystery. But now they were seeing her heart close at hand.

“Why don’t we ask Jeremy to pick up Abby’s things?” suggested Phoebe. “No one thinks he’s close with Abby, and he doesn’t work in town where he’s easily watched.”
“I’m fine with that,” whispered Abby. “But remember: this new agreement with Morphy won’t stop them from following us, trying to learn our secrets, and taking pictures they can try to put a spin on. They want Tuck and I out of here. They want the whole town and mining rights in the forest. They’re looking at the kind of money that’s got them foaming at the mouth.”
“None of us will forget,” Phoebe said, and put her arms around them. Their eyes were used to the dark. They could see each other’s faces beaming in the moonlight. Abby led them back down Tiny’s path and unlocked the iron door. Phoebe and George disappeared into the night.

The Ghost Girl - Episode 13

GEORGE TELLS HIS STORY

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"Is it really you? Oh, I'm so happy! I'm so happy!"
"Is everything okay?"
Abby nodded, locked the door, and beckoned them to follow. Up the narrow path they went in single file. As they entered the mulch pile the sky opened up and the moon shone on their faces. They sat down cross-legged on the dry leaves, making a small triangle. "Talk in whispers," Abby warned them. "The watchers are on duty all night across the street." They looked at each other, waiting for someone to begin.
"Phoebe," whispered Abby, "You saved my life last night. I owe you. I'll always remember the... the way you..." She was at a loss for words. Phoebe embraced her, and whispered in her ear, "It's okay. I wanted to do it. I would do it again."
"I'm your friend forever," Abby replied. It was something she had never said to anyone before. Then she became aware of George, looking on at this emotional scene and shifting away from the girls as if he were an intruder. She turned and pulled him closer by the shoulders, and hugged him. "George, I'm so glad to see you! But... aren't you taking a big risk coming here, with this business of being a spy? They'll take revenge like they've tried with me."
"That's one big reason we're here tonight," Phoebe cut in. "George, you tell it."
He looked at Abby and said, "You should know from the start that we're under pressure. We have to make decisions tonight."
"Go for it," said Abby.
"Well, this morning Peabody came up to me on the sidewalk and said we had to talk right away about what he called 'a very sensitive job'. So we crossed the street to his office, and he walked me into the back room. And who should be sitting there but Milton Morphy, the great robber baron himself! As soon as I sat down he just goes off in that angry voice, saying I betrayed him, sold photos to the enemy, can't be trusted, and they'll deal with me accordingly. I told him I'm not under any contract, and I'd earned ten times more money from The Evansville Record in one hour than I'd made from their newspaper over the last three months. Peabody got all frantic and told me I shouldn't talk to Milton that way, that it could hurt me forever, but Morphy just waved him off and said, 'No, no, I understand, I see the boy has ambitions. He wants to make money.' Then he came to the point and said he had an important job for me, where I could make more money than I'd ever had before."
George took a deep breath. 
"Go on, go on," whispered Abby.
"Morphy said there had been 'unfortunate misunderstandings' last night, and one of his colleagues had been hospitalized with a serious injury. He knew that Phoebe had hit him with a club and broke his arm, and said that she should be charged with assault and spend jail time. But then he added that some people in town had gotten 'a little hysterical'... so Phoebe may have thought she was defending herself. And now the police are trying to identify those people who became hysterical, the mob who thought magic had caused the storm and the car accidents and the blocking of the street, and went to that house in the forest in search of a witch." George saw he had all their attention.
So..." he went on, "Morphy said he'll make 'a little informal agreement', and let the whole thing alone if Phoebe and Tuck and Dr. Bear will also agree to do the same. Then he added, 'Nothing written, mind you! And if my name comes up at all you'll be very sorry, I promise you that!'
"It was really tense," George whispered. "I couldn't come up with a word to say. And Morphy just stares at me and says, 'Well, I'm waiting.'"

The Ghost Girl Blog - Episode 12

A SECRET MEETING

Illustration By Lawrence Tate

Illustration By Lawrence Tate

As soon as Geraldine was out the door, Abby opened her second note of the day. It read: 

Abby, Be There! The back door at 1PM tonight. More important than before. With Love and Hope,
Phoebe

She read both notes twice and then ripped them up and threw the pieces into the wood burning stove and lit them. “There’s got to be some danger for Phoebe to push me like this,” she thought. “It’s like waving a red flag and saying, ‘Look out, look out!’” 
Abby lay down on the bed and stared vacantly at the peeling paint on the ceiling. “I’ve got to get myself together and eat something,” she told herself. “I’ve lost my appetite again. I’m too jittery.” She stood up and paced the room, walking back and forth in the tiny space. “But at least I’m going to see Phoebe! I can’t wait. To think of how she helped me! She believes in me, no matter what I do. Now if only George and Jeremy and Stephanie and Eddy could come too. At least George! There must be some kind of threat.” 
Abby paced back and forth. “Oh! I’m sure they have news for me. Let’s get this new life going!” Finally she calmed down and ate a nut butter sandwich with a glass of apple cider. Then she set her alarm clock for 12:30 and lay down again. Soon her thoughts rushed along like the flow of a river. Pictures from the evening before at the haunted house came back to her. She re-lived the scene there in the dark with a crowd threatening Phoebe and her with torches, and the crazy firelight bending and shifting with the trees in the wind. Abby gasped, breathing rapidly, and sat up on the edge of the bed.“Definitely post-traumatic stress,” she told herself. “Geraldine was right about everything.” Then her thoughts turned into dreams.

The alarm clock rang in what seemed like a moment later. Abby threw cold water on her face, made a cup of Breakfast Mixture and drank it slowly. She felt good, relaxed but ready, eager for the coming adventure. The minutes ticked by. She put on her trademark dark jeans and long sleeved black tee shirt, and paced the room again. Finally she put the key in her pocket and climbed out the back window. She was fairly certain someone would still be watching from the bench across the street. A yellow moon shone in her face, and glimmered on the twisted and broken old apple trees and the high churchyard wall. Nothing moved. The night was still, the song of the crickets the only sound. She passed like a shadow behind the apple trees, and then crawled into a tiny opening at ground level between the hedge and the wall. Pushing up gently through the leaves, she rose into the mulch pile. She waited there and listened for a few minutes in silence. Then she brushed the leaves off her hair and clothes, and continued across the leaves and down Tiny’s path along the wall. In a moment she entered the secret place. Still no sound but the crickets. Abby slipped the key into the lock of the iron door, turned it with a faint click, and then leaned against the wall, listening patiently. In a few minutes she heard steps, the soft pat-pat of shoes on the ground. 
"There’s more than one person!” she thought. “I should have left the door locked!” She moved back a few steps along the wall, ready to run if necessary. The steps came closer, closer, and then stopped. Seconds ticked by. 
"Abby,” came a whisper. “Abby, are you there?” She knew instantly it was Phoebe’s voice! Abby opened the door, and Phoebe burst in with George on her heels, colliding with Abby in the dark. All three wore black, and could hardly see each other. "Phoebe! George!” 
"Abby!” They whispered to each other and embraced, all three at once.

The Ghost Girl Blog - Episode 10

THE GROWN-UPS ALWAYS RUIN IT

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

Abby, Tiny, and Lucy gazed at the lovely new place they had discovered.
“Awesome job exploring, girls!” exclaimed Abby. “Look what you found!”
The space was shaped as a triangle, with the stone walls covering two sides and the long fallen tree covering the third. Abby was amazed that the gigantic old maple tree had never been removed. The result was a virtually impassable cocoon of vines, young maple trees, and thorny brambles. As the slope of the yard received less sun in the shadow of the wall, smaller plants and herbs grew, until in the corner by the door only some thin grasses covered the ground. Except for the locked door to the outside world, only the narrow path from the privet fort provided an entrance to this hidden domain. They walked along the back wall and found a pile of branches and short sections of the fallen tree. Years ago someone must have cut it off the wall. Abby rolled three circular pieces to the open space near the door to serve as seats, and then rolled a larger piece to serve as a table. They sat down to consider their stunning success.

After surveying the scene in silence, Lucy said, “We need to bring cups and cider.”
“And chocolate,” added Tiny.
“It’s a secret place, only for us,” said Lucy, looking at the others to emphasize her words.
“Can we tell Glenda?” asked Abby.
“Only Glenda,” said Lucy generously.
“I have a few friends who help me,” said Abby. “They know how to keep secrets.”
“Phoebe is one of them,” said Lucy.
“How do you know?”
“Chester said that Abby and Phoebe won the day.”
“Dawn said that Phoebe’s okay,” said Tiny.
“That’s all right then,” conceded Lucy. But she turned to Abby and laid down the law, saying, “You and your friends have to promise to not let them ruin it.”
“What do you mean? Who’s going to ruin it?”
“You know, they always ruin it. The grown-ups don’t like these places. They never let them be. You’ve got to promise!”
“Whew!” whistled Abby. “That’s a tall order. I’m supposed to be the gardener here. They’re going to want me to clean up this place.”
“See! See!” returned Lucy. “They never understand! Never! You can’t say anything to them! What good are you and your friends? I thought you were on our side.”
“Dawn says she wants you to promise," declared Tiny. "Where’s Emily going to play? That’s what Dawn wants to know. Someday Dawn’s coming to Middletown, and Emily is going to play here.”
“Oh my,” muttered Abby, “this is all more serious than I thought.” Some water in her eyes ran onto her cheeks as she shook her head. “I wonder what Reverend Tuck will think if I tell him we can’t touch this…”
“Well, maybe you can touch it,” said Lucy, willing to compromise a little. “But you can’t ruin it.”
“Okay, hopefully we can manage that. I promise to do my best. And my friends will promise too, I know they will. We already promised to protect the forest.”
“That’s what Chester said,” Lucy told them.
“But I need you girls to understand,” warned Abby, “I am not the king of the world. Sometimes I have to change my plans. Like for instance I notice a lot of poison ivy over there. Do we want children to play here and get poison ivy?”
“No!” They exclaimed. 
“And what if they want a path to this door so people can walk through and see the birds? But I promise to do the very best I can to protect this place and make the world as good as I can.”
Lucy looked at Tiny, and Tiny nodded. “Okay,” said Lucy. “That’s fair.”
Deep shadows were growing around them. Mosquitoes and fireflies roamed around them. Abby jumped up and said, “What will Glenda think? It’s getting dark. She’ll have no idea where we are.”
And in almost no time they were filing out of the privet fort and walking to the cottage door.

The Ghost Girl - Episode 7

THE PRAYER OF ALL LIFE

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

THE PRAYER OF ALL LIFE, illustration by Carlos Uribe
Back in the tiny churchyard cottage, Abby’s mind was flooded with too many questions to think clearly. She needed someone to talk to. Suddenly she felt very alone and scared, practically imprisoned in the churchyard, isolated from her friends. She began to pace around the room, disturbed by a feeling that she was missing something. With a sudden inspiration she remembered the envelope from the grocery bag brought by Geraldine, and her hand flew to her pocket. There it was, plain and small and thin, with her name written boldly on the front in pencil. She tore it open and discovered a note from Phoebe. Feeling her heart pounding, she read:

Abby -- I miss you already! I’d like to give you time to get settled, but things have come up that we should talk about right away. As you know, Tuck is not allowing us in the churchyard, and you will be watched and followed wherever you go. The men from that mob last night are likely to be pretty nervous about the outcome of all this. I’m sure George wants to see you, but I think it’s too risky for him. But I will come to the back door of the churchyard, tonight at 1AM. I’ll continue to send notes through Geraldine, who is very cooperative.
With Love and Hope,
Phoebe

“Ah!” thought Abby with relief. “That helps. But why does Phoebe need to see me so badly? And why is it especially dangerous for George?” She began to pace around the tiny cottage like a caged animal. “And where is Reverend Tuck?” she wondered. “This Church Council meeting seems to be going on for a long time.”
Abby recalled everything she knew about the Church Council. The picture that came to mind was not reassuring. The Council would be voting, maybe at that very moment, on whether or not to allow her to be the church gardener and live in the cottage rent-free. She had moved heaven and earth to achieve this change, and was already planning the gardens and orchards she would plant, a dazzling array of vegetables, fruits, and flowers, all from Wendy’s seeds and cuttings.
“My seeds! Oh my God, I don’t have my seeds!” She remembered in a panic that her seeds were carefully hidden behind a decaying sheet rock wall on the second floor of the haunted house. Her guitar and whistles were back there too. And her bike was under the floorboards of the broken porch. Abby felt certain that the haunted house would be thoroughly searched sometime soon, if it had not happened already. Her seeds had been carefully chosen over years of planting in Wendy’s gardens. They were an irreplaceable treasure. Worrying frantically about the council meeting and her prized possessions, Abby could not sit still, and felt her heart race. The loss of her new home would leave her with nowhere to go. It was all more than she could bear.
“Help me! Help me!” In her thoughts she called out, looking for the voice of her inner friend, the green being from her vision. 

Thumbing through her copy of Black Elk Speaks, she was reminded of a strange idea that had grown in her heart since childhood. Many times she had been moved to tears by the words near the end of the book, the part where Black Elk says, “And I, to whom so great a vision was given in my youth – you see me now a pitiful old man who has done nothing, for the nation’s hoop is broken and scattered. There is no center any longer, and the sacred tree is dead.”
And then Abby turned to his last words in the book, where Black Elk prays from a mountaintop, crying aloud:
“It may be that some little root of the sacred tree still lives. Nourish it then, that it may leaf and bloom and fill with singing birds… In sorrow I am sending a feeble voice, O Six Powers of the World. Hear me in my sorrow, for I may never call again. O make my people live!”

Each time Abby read these words, she thought of the urgent sadness in the eyes of the green being, her earth angel, and she imagined that Black Elk and the angel were the same being, that an angel had been born as Black Elk, and became an angel again when he died, a guardian of souls, and of all life. And his vision, his dream of helping the sacred tree to live – that dream was not dead, but was fought for by angels, and lived in the heart of humans. Wendy had taught Abby that this is the prayer of all life.

“Let it live! Let it live! Let it live!” came the voice, surging with fierce energy inside her. 

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Mysteries arise as Phoebe unravels the secrets in her small town. Deep in the marrow of her bones, she feels that all her hopes are in danger of being lost. A powerful gem called dreamstone appears at the heart of the mystery.

The Ghost Girl - Episode 6

THE CHALLENGE OF OUR TIME

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“Ladies and gentlemen, members of the congregation!” announced Reverend Tuck. To Abby’s surprise, he was speaking without notes, just in front of the first row. He even paced back and forth and up the aisles, talking to the enormous crowd in a conversational tone amplified by a small microphone around his neck. “I know that our church is in the midst of controversy,” Tuck began. “We have caught the attention of the wide world. I am grateful for this opportunity to discuss the problems we face today. First of all, I know that many disagree with my call to make the stewardship of the earth and the fight against climate change a major commitment for our congregation. Many have argued that climate change is a matter for science and politics only. I have responded by insisting that the lives of our children and children’s children are surely a spiritual responsibility, as can be seen at length in scripture. In fact this is not just a responsibility. It is a matter of urgent and dire need that forces us to take a stand. And there are consequences to taking a stand, consequences that disrupt business as usual and create conflict.

“For example, we belong to a world-wide religious denomination, an organization that raises and invests what we would consider a large fortune. Does it make sense that our church is making money by investing in corporations that are destroying the balance of nature? For the science is no longer in doubt. Only the ethics are in doubt, very much to our sorrow. When our ancestors approached the civil war, the great campaign to end slavery, some churches stood on the sideline. When Hitler moved to dominate the world and slaughter minority groups by the millions, some churches stood on the sideline. Do we accept the excuse that these are not religious issues? No, we understand that humanity was in the midst of a great battle against evil, a battle that would determine the very nature of the future of life on earth. Yet even if we accept this struggle, can we really make a difference? The good news is that we have help, help from on high. Wisdom, the daughter of God, is reaching out to us. As we heard today from the book of Proverbs, wisdom is all around us, trying to be heard. She rejoices in the divine gift of life on earth. She delights in the lives of people. Hearing her call is the great challenge of our time. I stand here sharing my heart with you.”

At this point, as if by plan, a large group rose and filed out of the church amid great bustle and muttering. Abby easily recognized some of the men. Indeed, a few were a part of the mob threatening to burn the haunted house with her in it only the night before. Loud comments were heard: “You’re crazy, Tuck, and you’ll soon be gone!” and “We can’t take these insults any longer. It’s over.”
Tuck waited patiently. When he was about to begin again a man shouted from the back: “What are these lies about the daughter of God? You’re not even a Christian!” 
Tuck stood there in silence, and finally said, “All thanks to those of you who have heard me out. I must take a few more minutes of your time to talk about our new gardener, now living in the churchyard cottage, and my decision to rescue her from an abandoned house. I hope that after our council meeting today we will call it our decision, for with your help she will be here in the name of our church as a whole. I know the history of Middletown as well as many of you. Do we want to stand by and see innocent victims burned alive for a second time?”

The audience gasped. Murmuring spread forward and back, like a shifting wind. Abby stared, breathless. Tuck waited a few seconds, and then bowed his head: “Lord, we reach out to you in this world endangered by our own blindness and greed. We need you! We need you! We need you! Help us to find a way into a future for all humanity, for all life, a world that can flourish for millions of years to come. Amen.” 

Tuck raised his head and said, “Before we finish today I want to invite all of you to an important meeting here in the church basement this Tuesday at 7PM. We will receive a visit from our colleagues from the nearby town of Rivergate, and discuss the emergency problems threatening their community. Rising water levels in the Half Moon Wetland have damaged their only bridge off the island. This will be an important opportunity to reach out to our neighbors in distress. We urge the youth of Middletown to attend. I’m told there will be music on the program.”
The congregation buzzed with whispering, and Abby heard someone say, “That’s Swamptown, you know, not a place where people should be living.”
As Tuck announced the final hymn, Abby glided back the way she had come. The future spread out before her. The battle lines had been drawn.

The Ghost Girl - Episode 5

ABBY HIDES AT THE CHURCH DOOR

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Dr. Geraldine Bear entered the cottage, saying, “I hope I’m not disturbing you, dear. I know we’re all exhausted from yesterday.”
“No, no, I’m up and around,” replied Abby quickly. “How are… um, things?”
The doctor looked at her carefully. “Well, things are generally good. But I’ve had to act on your behalf since I saw you last, and I owe you an explanation.”
“I already know,” returned Abby. “You told people I’m suffering from post traumatic stress, and can’t receive guests.”
“You must be wondering why I did this. I know it was presumptuous – after all, I’m not really your doctor. You have every right to be angry.”
“No, I’m actually relieved. You’ve given me an excuse to keep the crowds away. It’s all a little overwhelming.”
“Ah! You do understand! I’m trying to be your friend, unless you really want a doctor. And please call me Geraldine. You need some help here.”
“I’d like to know,” Abby said, “do you really think I have post traumatic stress, or just need a rest?”
“I would say a good deal of both,” answered Geraldine. “There are enormous conflicts here that affect all of us. These matters run very deep, and you probably know more about them than I do.” Geraldine waited for Abby to respond, but she began unpacking the grocery bags and avoiding Geraldine’s eyes.
“That’s okay dear, but if you need to talk, just let me know.”
“Oh, this food is just what I need!” exclaimed Abby, ignoring Geraldine’s offer.
“You have wonderful friends. Just a few minutes ago Phoebe, Stephanie, Jeremy, George, and Eddy all arrived with these gifts for you.”
At the bottom of the second bag Abby found an envelope addressed to her. She folded it in half and slipped it into a pocket of her jeans.
“My goodness!” cried Geraldine in alarm. She was looking out the small kitchen window. “Do you see? The crowd is already on the sidewalk! Tuck will need me. We’ll talk later, don’t go anywhere!” She disappeared out the door.

Abby stared out the window at the action on Bridge Avenue, watching people arrive on foot and stepping out of taxi-cabs. Soon a line of double-parked cars ran up the road as far as she could see, including a WBCS television van. Reporters were interviewing people on the street. Abby found it hard to remain still, and began to pace around the tiny cottage. “What is Tuck going to say?” she wondered. “Is he going to mention me?” 

In half an hour she grew frantic, and exceedingly curious. Soon almost no one was left on the street. Abby opened the cottage door to get a better look, and noticed that the side door of the sanctuary was wide open. Clearly they needed a breeze through the church on that hot day. Abby examined the layout of the churchyard and made a plan. She climbed out the back window behind the line of old apple trees, and then advanced toward the church partly screened from Bridge Avenue by a few large maple trees. Finally she risked a few quick steps to a well-hidden position between the church wall and the back of the large, wide open door. Looking carefully through the opening at the hinges, Abby saw the altar well lit by a chandelier high above. Off to one side stood Geraldine at the podium, reading out loud from the Bible. 

“From Proverbs, chapter 8,” she said.
Abby listened carefully: 
“Listen! Wisdom is calling out. Reason is making herself heard. On the hilltops near the road, and at the crossroads she stands. At the entrance to the city, beside the gates, she calls: ‘I appeal to you, mankind. I call to everyone on earth… I was made in the very beginning, at the first, before the world began… before God made the earth and it’s fields or even the first handful of soil. I was there when he set the sky in place, when he stretched the horizon across the ocean, when he placed the clouds in the sky, when he opened the springs of the ocean and ordered the waters of the sea to rise no further than he said. I was there when he laid the earth’s foundations. I was beside him like an architect. I was his daily source of joy, always happy in his presence – happy with the world and pleased with the human race… The man who finds me finds life, and the Lord will be pleased with him.”
Geraldine bowed her head. “This is the word of the Lord,” she said.

The Ghost Girl - Episode 4

Episode 4


THE CHURCHYARD COTTAGE

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“Have you fallen asleep?” asked Reverend Tuck quietly. He stood beside her in the darkness. “It’s been a long day I know.”
Abby looked up and realized that she was still sitting outside under the stars. She shivered in a cool night breeze.
“I know we’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” Tuck went on, “but for now I just want to mention a few things. Have you prepared a place in the cottage to sleep?”
“Yes, that’s fine, I’m all ready.”
“Okay, I’ll let you go in a minute. Let me remind you that tomorrow we have our 11AM church service, and with all this uproar and publicity it will be packed, and require a response from me. Dr. Bear has taken the liberty of telling reporters and police that you are recovering from a traumatic experience. You already answered a few major questions on television last night, and a video of that little interview has spread over the internet. I think that’s enough exposure for the present. Our job now is to keep you quiet and hidden away, and let this hysteria die down. So tomorrow fix up this cottage, or whatever you like, but stay inside, out of circulation. Dr. Bear will handle the outside world for you. People have offered donations, and she will receive them for you. We will bring food. So stay out of sight. No visits, no interviews…. Any questions?”
“Not now,” replied Abby. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“Then get some sleep. I’ll see you after the morning service. No, it will be a little later than that. I have to meet with the Church Council.”
Abby stood up and looked at Tuck in the faint light from her cottage. “Thank you! I appreciate all you’ve done, so much I can’t tell you.”
“That’s all right,” said Tuck with a smile. “I love my job. We’re glad to have you as a part of our family here.”

Abby awoke in the full light of day to the noise of beautiful blue jays making a ruckus outside her open window. The cottage felt peaceful, a much-needed haven. It was true that it lacked decent furniture and a refrigerator, and needed an enormous amount of work. And despite a night of open windows, the cottage exuded a damp, sour odor. 
“But that’s why no one else wants it,” she thought. “That’s why it’s all mine.”
She thought for a few minutes about Wendy: “Will she be lonely? Yes, most definitely. And I will be lonely without her. But this is my future. I have a mission in the world, as she has told me so many times. And I know she believes it. She proved it by letting me ride Hilda.”
‘Hilda’ was Wendy’s name for the flying stick, the Volador, sometimes called the broom. Abby often wondered about the nature of Hilda, the spirit of the broom. In Abby’s view, Hilda expressed a personality even though she could not talk. Yet she could listen and move and respond. Her movements could express disagreement or annoyance, or even happiness and joy. When Abby asked about Hilda, Wendy had said: “She offered me this favor long ago, when I chose this mission. Always respect Hilda, she is smarter than you.”
Abby had replied, “But she is not a person!”
And Wendy had replied, “She was a person at one time, and now she’s a kind of angel, you could say, a gift from heaven.”
Not to be put off, Abby had asked, “But what are angels?”
And Wendy said, “That’s the last question for today! They are messengers between heaven and earth, the Guardians of all life, our helpers from the other world. You don’t think life could grow up to heaven without help, do you? And you don’t have to call them angels. I just use that name because people here understand it. Your ancestors and mine on your father’s side had other names and ways of seeing them. I wish you knew more about that!”
“I wish I did too,” thought Abby.

A faint knock made her jump as if she'd heard a scream. She opened the door to see Dr. Geraldine Bear carrying two shopping bags.

The Ghost Girl - Episode 3

Episode 3


YOUR MISSION HANGS BY A THREAD

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

Illustration By Carlos Uribe

Abby found herself watching a small, very bright sphere approaching them from above. The golden light was surrounded by sparks or tiny flames, and grew so bright that Abby had to close her eyes. When she looked again a third being stood before her, with a body covered by a golden film. Within the light was the shadow of a very expressive, almost seductive face.

“We are all overjoyed to see you,” exclaimed the red being, and then bowed with the others. “If you have advice from above we sorely need it!”
“I am bringing a message of both hope and fear,” said the new arrival, looking steadily at Wendy. The tiny golden flames flickered and grew around that beautiful head.
“Please,” replied Wendy. “Tell us. I have no secrets.”
The being stared at Wendy as if no one else existed, and declared, “This much I know with certainty: your mission hangs by a thread. The Adversary is free and active, more determined than ever to prove this long experiment a failure – here on earth above all! Whatever help we have provided, humans have not stepped up to the challenge. Over the coming ten years the crisis will come like a flood, and if the tide does not turn, the destruction will become irreversible. But you have a chance of success. Follow through with your plan – your whole plan, mind you – and do not be thrown off course by anyone or anything. I bring you this message: ‘Take courage,’ they said. ‘You are our beloved daughter. This is your hour!’”

Wendy’s face remained hidden in shadow, and with hardly a pause the messenger added in a different tone of voice, looking at the countless lights in the wide circle: “We are taking great risks here. Our presence will be discovered.”
“Do not fear,” replied Wendy. “I am nearly invisible, one of many humans, nothing special. And we are now finished here, my purpose is complete. I am very grateful to all of you.”
“Just a word before we go!” For the first time the green being’s powerful voice rang out, addressing Wendy. “I have served you across the heart-breaking years, and shared your hopes and labors here on earth. My power is limited – the work ahead will need the hand of the Hidden One to succeed. But all I can do is yours.”
Then the green being turned to Abby and spoke: “Little one, I hear an unspoken request in this meeting, and my answer is yes. I will be your guardian.” The strange face looked at Abby and expressed a complexity of identity and emotion that she would know forever, and left her speechless. ‘He will be my inner friend,’ thought Abby.
“Call on me from your heart. You know me.” The being turned back to Wendy and said, “Is that what you had in mind?”
Wendy’s eyes blinked and glistened. She bowed, concealing her tears. “More than I can say,” she answered, trying to control her voice.
In the next moment Abby saw the throng of lights recede into the night sky, back among the swirling billions, the perhaps infinite lights in the vast and mysterious cosmos. All but the green being, who disappeared into the forest.

Abby’s dream-vision ended there. The next thing she remembered was waking in the hospital, breathing through a respirator. Her desperately anxious parents were sitting nearby. She was a very skinny ten year old with chronic asthma, recovering from pneumonia.

PHOEBE COMES HOME (Book I) 
PHOEBE BREAKS THROUGH (Book II)

THE GHOST GIRL (Book III) 

by John KixMiller

THE GHOST GIRL BLOG! STARTING MAY 6th!!!

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TWO EPISODES A WEEK!

Our deepest thanks to all of you from around the earth following our story of a group of misfit teenagers who save the world from climate change. In Books 1 and 2 we saw the action from the point of view of Phoebe, an eighteen-year old girl who returns from college to find her hometown suddenly in the grip of mystery and danger.

In book #3 Abby becomes the church gardener and moves into the old, run-down churchyard cottage. She soon discovers that she is watched night and day by professional investigators hired by the colossal corporation trying to take over the town, and force Abby to reveal the secrets of the forest and the source of dreamstone.

Reverend Tuck, Abby, and their allies form a community council to run churchyard events and gather support for their efforts to engage the church in the fight against climate change. The community in Rivergate, an island in the wetland preserve, and Abby’s childhood home, joins their mission. The struggle with Milton Morphy and his corporate empire reaches a dangerous climax as Abby flees for her life into the forest.

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Goodreads Book Giveaway

Protectors of the Wood #3 by John KixMiller

Protectors of the Wood #3

by John KixMiller

Giveaway ends May 05, 2019.

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