Raising the Dead Page 4

  “I think it was a man. I think he was hanging around while we were there.”

  “You think he was watching you? Creepy.”

  “This kind of thing always brings out the psychos.”

  I ignored my internal voice, which pointed out that my parents had been immediately drawn to the situation and so had I. Maybe I was the psycho one, and the mysterious man was simply a guy surveying the damage to his neighborhood.

  “It was probably nothing,” I said. “He didn’t bother us. He could have been a concerned citizen.”

  “Because concerned citizens like to inspect local cemeteries?”

  She had a point. Why would someone hide behind trees and spy on people? If he was worried about making sure we were working, he could have approached us and asked a few questions. Something was not right.

  The thunder grew louder and Dante’s barking became so insistent that Avery had to get off the phone. I turned off my computer and got ready for bed.

  Silent lightning illuminated my dark room. I watched the walls, waiting for the bright flashes, then counted the seconds until I heard a rumble of thunder. The storm was getting closer. I hoped it would hit and move on quickly.

  There was a light knock at my door. “Still awake?” Mom asked.

  “Yeah. Come on in.”

  She walked over to my bed. I scooted over so she could sit next to me. “I just wanted to check in,” she said.

  “I’m not afraid of the storm,” I told her.

  “I know.” She leaned back against my headboard. “You’re not really afraid of anything, are you?”

  “Only rabid dogs. Or rabid raccoons. Anything rabid, really.”

  Mom chuckled. “That’s a perfectly logical fear.”

  We were quiet for a while. Random flashes of lightning brightened my room, but the following thunder was softer, more distant.

  “Do you think a lot about what we saw in Charleston?” I asked.

  “Yes. Do you?”

  “Yes.” I sat up against my pillow. “I’m not sure what I was supposed to take away from it. I don’t know how to interpret it. And Dad says it was nothing, just a weird natural phenomenon.”

  “Is that what you believe?”

  The dead girl. The way she spoke and moved, the way the world was darkening around her. It had happened, I knew it. But if I been on the other side, shouldn’t that have changed me in some way? I was exactly the same person. Or was I? I wished there was a test I could take to see if I now possessed the ability to wander across the boundary between the living and the dead. I would talk to my grandmother. I would solve mysterious murders. I would chat with the people whose faces I saw in the pages of my history book. Emily Dickinson could write my English research paper for me. If I had crossed over once, did that mean I could do it again?

  “I don’t know what I believe,” I said.

  “Well, I was there, and I say that something happened.” Mom patted my knee. “And I think those dreams you had were real, too. I think you did something truly remarkable, Charlotte, I really do.”

  She got up from my bed. “Get some sleep, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I listened to her footsteps as she walked down the stairs. I heard Dad’s voice, asking a question, and Mom’s low reply. Their conversation continued for a while. I couldn’t make out the words, but when their voices got louder, I knew they were having a disagreement. Unable to sleep and wanting to hear what they were arguing about, I got out of bed and crept down the hallway so I could stand at the top of the stairs. I leaned forward, one hand on the banister. I couldn’t see my parents, so I guessed they were in the living room. Their voices carried, and I could hear them clearly.

  “How can you possibly rationalize this?” Dad said angrily. “Encouraging her to grab onto a paranormal explanation is destructive.”

  “Destructive how?” Mom’s voice was equally angry.

  “Karen, we have a duty to examine all rational, natural causes to an event. We can’t have our daughter thinking that she saw ghosts.”

  “She can think what she wants to think, Patrick. And so far, I haven’t heard you come up with a single plausible explanation for what happened that involves natural science.”

  Dad’s reply was terse. “I’m working on it.”

  “Fine. While you’re working on it, Charlotte and I will go with our guts. We saw the lights, and we believe it was something paranormal. Until you prove us wrong, that’s what we’re going with.”

  “I want to talk with her.” Dad began walking toward the staircase. I immediately backed away.

  “She’s asleep! It can wait,” Mom said.

  I tiptoed back to my room. Downstairs, my parents continued to argue, but not quite as loudly. I couldn’t remember the last time I had heard them fight. It had been years. I knew they disagreed about things, but they never fought in front of me or Annalise. It wasn’t like them at all.

  Soon, I couldn’t hear their voices any more. I was tired, but I couldn’t fall asleep and I didn’t want to obsess over my parents’ argument. Images of Noah napping in my bed flashed across my mind in the same way the lightning streaked my room. Had he thought about me as he closed his eyes? Probably not.

  I had to resign myself to the fact that we weren’t meant to be together and move past my crush. There were lots of available guys at school, and Callie was constantly offering to set me up with someone on the football team. It was time to take her up on the offer, I decided. At lunchtime on Monday, I would ask her to introduce me to someone.

  Another bolt of lightning lit up the walls, followed almost immediately by a boom of thunder. The storm raged directly over our house. I snuggled under my comforter and squeezed my eyes shut, then fell asleep fantasizing that Noah was curled up next to me.

  Chapter Six

  I awoke on Wednesday to a quiet house. My parents had left already for the county morgue, leaving behind a note that they would call before lunch. I was in no rush to get ready for the day, so I poured a bowl of cereal and settled on the dining room couch to watch TV in my pajamas.

  Luckily, the previous night’s storm had resulted in only minor damage to our town. A few roads were still closed and some more trees had succumbed to the strong winds, but that was it, and clear weather was in the forecast.

  A perky news anchor confirmed that local schools would be back in session on Monday. She talked over a montage of footage showing cars slowly driving through foot-deep water and people struggling to push grocery carts through flooded parking lots. There was also a shot of a long plank of wood leaned against someone’s garage.

  “A local man made an odd discovery this morning when he tried to drive to work,” the news anchor said. “When his garage door would not open, Shawn Burton investigated and found the lid of a casket had washed in front of the door, jamming it from the outside.” The camera zoomed in on the splintered wood. “Fortunately, it was determined that the lid is from a very old casket—probably over a hundred years old—and it is not expected that the remains which were once interred inside it will be found.”

  Remains that old were probably little more than a few bones and scraps of clothing, I thought. The camera pulled back to reveal a small crowd of people standing across the street from the house, holding umbrellas and pointing. Before the camera panned away, I saw a man in the background. Dressed in a black trench coat, and with his head down, he could have been anyone. But his height and swift strides away from everyone else reminded me of the figure I had glimpsed at the cemetery. I gasped—was it the same guy?

  The news went back to showing the anchor, who shuffled a few papers. “Not a great way to begin the morning, though, wouldn’t you agree, Jeff?”

  The weatherman smiled. “I prefer a strong cup of coffee over a coffin any day, Diane.”

  I ignored Jeff the Weatherman’s amazing wit and turned off the TV. Was it possible that the person I’d seen hiding behind trees at the cemetery was the same man from the news feature? Th
e chances were slim. Many men wore black trench coats. He was probably a concerned neighbor, someone who lived on the street and saw the commotion and walked over to see if he could help.

  I got up from the sofa, took my bowl to the kitchen sink, and decided to shower. I stood under the steaming hot water for a while. My thoughts kept returning to the possibility that someone was strangely interested in William’s cemetery. I couldn’t shake the suspicion that this person was hanging around, looking for something. But what?

  As I got out of the shower, I heard a noise coming from downstairs. I tied my robe around me, wrapped my dripping wet hair in a towel, and made my way slowly down the steps. Before I reached the foyer, a hard knock on the front door startled me. I made sure my robe was secure before unlocking the door.

  “I’ve been standing here forever!”

  “Avery?”

  “Seriously, I was about to give up.” She eyed my towel. “It’s almost noon.”

  I opened the door wider and let her in. “I slept in.”

  “Obviously.”

  We went to the kitchen, where Avery flung open the refrigerator and surveyed its contents. “I’m starving. We were finally able to get out of the house, so Mom’s at the grocery store. She dropped me off here. I figured you’d have food.” She frowned. “I figured wrong.”

  “You’re very cranky when you’re hungry, you know that?”

  “Sorry. It’s a combination of hunger and cabin fever.” She closed the fridge and went to the pantry. “I’m so happy to be out of my house, you have no idea. I’ve spent the past four days organizing my mom’s photo albums.” She retrieved a box of macaroni and cheese. “You mind?”

  “Help yourself.” I got out a pot and filled it with water. Avery sat down at the kitchen table and pulled her blond hair into a ponytail.

  “When will your parents be back?”

  I turned on the stove. “Should be soon.”

  “I can’t believe they’re hanging out at the morgue.” She shuddered.

  “It’s nothing new to them.” I sat across from her while the water heated up. “Most of the remains will be skeletal because they’re so old. It shouldn’t be too bad.”

  “So how will they identify the people and match them to their graves?”

  I explained that they would be examining clothing and any mementos or artifacts left in the caskets, such as letters. They could also use the bones to determine age.

  “In the end, they’ll be making an educated guess,” I said. “But the coroner will help them, too.”

  The water came to a boil. I dumped the macaroni into the pot and searched our cabinets for a strainer. The phone rang, and Avery answered it while I worked on the pasta.

  “Hi, Mrs. Silver! Charlotte’s making me lunch.”

  I grabbed milk and butter from the fridge while Avery talked to my mom about flood damage. “It’s not too bad, really. We’ll need to recarpet the living room, but Mom wanted to put in hardwood anyways. Here, I’ll let you talk to Charlotte.” Avery handed me the phone.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hi, hon. I’m glad you have something for lunch. We’re going to be here longer than expected.”

  “Yeah? Why’s that?”

  “We’ve made a very unique discovery. I’ll tell you about it later. You okay until dinner?”

  “That depends on what you’re bringing home to eat.”

  Mom laughed. “How about Giuseppe’s?”

  “Perfect. Can Avery eat with us?”

  “Of course.” She put her hand over the receiver. I could hear her muffled voice as she spoke to someone. It sounded like she said, “You’re sure about that?” A second later, she was talking to me. “Sorry. Have to go. We’ve found another one.”

  “Another what?” I asked, but she had already hung up.

  “Everything good?” Avery was stirring the noodles.

  “Yeah. They’re bringing home Giuseppe’s pizza for dinner.”

  I could practically see her mouth water from across the room. “And yes, you can stay.”

  “I’ve been dreaming about that pizza.”

  “For now you’ll have to settle for mac and cheese.” I turned off the stove. Avery got out the bowls while I stirred in the neon-orange cheese powder. When everything was ready, we sat down.

  “This is so good. I’ve been living on frozen waffles and granola bars.”

  After we ate lunch, I got dressed and we settled in to watch one of my favorite old movies, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, which Avery had never seen. Then we described our dream houses, which would of course be on a quiet beach like the one in the film.

  “But mine won’t be haunted by a dead sea captain,” I said.

  “No, you’ll get a gnarly surfer dude ghost.”

  I gave her a playful punch. “Gnarly? Did you really use that word?”

  “He’ll wear baggy shorts and nothing else,” Avery gasped between giggles. “And he’ll turn up the radio every time a Beach Boys song comes on.”

  “The horror!” We laughed and watched more movies and turned on the stereo as loud as it would go so we could dance on the furniture.

  Around five, the phone rang. I was expecting my parents to call, so I went into the living room with a finger pressed against my ear to block out some of the music and answered with a perky, “Silver Family Disco. We shake our butts like we’re nuts.”

  “Um. Charlotte?”

  I felt a little flash of embarrassment. “Hi, Noah.”

  “You okay?”

  I was relieved that he couldn’t see me and my lack of dancing skills. “Avery’s here.”

  “Right. Say no more. Listen, your folks wanted me to get your pizza order.”

  “Oh.” I looked over at Avery, who was dancing on top of the coffee table. “Sure. But why didn’t they call me?”

  “Change of plans. My mom and I are bringing the pizzas over. Your parents and Shane will be home soon, but I guess they made some great discovery, so they’re heading back to the morgue after dinner.”

  “Do you know what the discovery is?”

  “No clue, but they’re giddy about it. So, what do you like on your pizza?”

  After consulting with Avery and placing our order, I ran upstairs to change out of my sweaty T-shirt and less-than-flattering sweatpants.

  Avery stood in my doorway and smirked. “Any particular reason you’re changing your clothes?”

  I dug through a heap of jeans on my floor. “I’m sweaty and gross, that’s why.”

  “Right.”

  “You can borrow something, if you want,” I offered.

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  I settled on dark wash jeans and a tight-yet-comfortable T-shirt. A quick spritz of lavender-scented body mist and I was good to go.

  My parents arrived before the pizza. Dad immediately went to the computers set up in the living room and began downloading his digital camera. Mom stopped to say hello to Avery. “I’d give you a hug, but I’m afraid I smell like formaldehyde,” she said with a shrug. “It’s an occupational hazard when you spend all day in a morgue.”

  “Please change,” I said. “No offense, Mom, but you reek.”

  “I’m going to take a quick shower. Dad can fill you in on what we found.”

  I was dying to know about their big discovery, but the moment I approached Dad at his computer, I had to cover my nose. “You smell worse than Mom,” I choked.

  “Yeah.” He was focused on the thumbnails of over a hundred pictures.

  “Dad, please wash up before dinner. No one will be able to eat with that stench in the air.”

  “Sure.” But he didn’t take his eyes from the computer.

  “Dad.” I pulled on his arm. “Please.”

  “Hold on.”

  I hated when he became focused like this. Whatever they’d found in the recovered coffins was now more important than personal hygiene or communicating with more than one-syllable words. The doorbell rang and Avery, probably eager to esc
ape the stench of death, rushed to answer it.

  “Dad. Trisha and Noah are here with dinner. You have to change your clothes or disinfect or something.”

  “Right. I’m going.” He reluctantly left his computer and went upstairs. I made sure he was really gone before walking into the kitchen.

  Trisha was standing at the counter, opening the flat pizza boxes. Avery stood next to her, breathing in the hot garlic goodness.

  “Does she always sniff her pizza like that?” Noah whispered to me. He was at my side and watching Avery with a confused expression on his face. I felt tingly with him standing so close to me.

  “Only when she’s been exposed to formaldehyde,” I whispered back.

  Now his confusion was directed at me. I tried to ignore the fact that he looked good. How could he transform a simple blue T-shirt into a statement of casual confidence? He wasn’t allowed to look this perfect. I couldn’t overcome my crush when Noah was sauntering around like a magazine model.

  “Where’s Shane?” I asked aloud, hoping it would break the nervous tension that was building in my brain.

  “He said he needed to clean up before he came over,” Trisha answered. “I don’t know why. It’s not like this is a fancy dinner.”

  “Trust me,” Avery told her. “You’ll be glad he did.”

  We went ahead and served ourselves. I was on my second slice of cheese and meatball when Mom emerged, freshly showered and sporting damp hair, into the kitchen.

  “That smells like heaven,” she sighed.

  Dad was right behind her. His hair was also wet, and I pushed the possibility that they had showered together out of my mind. Although, I reasoned, maybe it was a good sign. Maybe they had gotten over last night’s argument.

  Shane showed up, took a seat next to Trisha, and we were finally settled and ready to hear about their amazing find at the morgue.

  “Most of the coffins had shattered,” Dad explained in between mouthfuls of pizza. “The wood was so old to begin with that it was mostly decayed even before the storm. We were only able to recover shards.”

  “What about the insides?” Avery asked. “You know, the people? What happened to the people?”