I'd like to think that I own a reliable car. Sure, it's more than ten years old, and it does have more than one hundred and fifty thousand miles on it, but it always starts and it doesn't burn oil. I was surprised as hell when it suddenly just quit running for no reason. I was driving along on a back country road, and it just quit. I saw a good place to pull off the road, so I let it coast for a bit before pulling over to stop. I had plenty of gas, and the starter turned the engine. It wasn't making any bad sounds, but it wouldn't start.
The first thing I did was call my daughter to see if my son-in-law could help me. I figured that if he brought his pickup and a chain, we could pull it into town and to my ex-wife's house without getting into too much trouble. He was home and willing to help, but it was going to be more than a half hour before he could get to my location. I thanked him, hung up, and sat back to wait.
About then, a motion caught my eye and I was surprised by what I saw. I hadn't even considered as I coasted to a stop that I was pulling onto a road-side parking strip for an old country graveyard. I've driven by the cemetery a thousand times and never paid much attention to it. Someone tends the yard year round, but I doubt there are any new burials there. Some of the stones date back to the American Civil War.
What caught my eye, though, was the motion of a woman's arm. The wind had blown the end of her scarf across the book she was reading, and she had moved to pull it back under control. She seemed to be carefully ignoring me and my car.
I was taken with how odd she looked. She might have been in her forties, with long black hair with a touch of gray in it. She was wearing a ridiculously old costume with a heavy Victorian dress and high boots with a lot of buttons. She was sitting on a bench with her feet up on one of the stones, revealing many layers of petticoats under the dress. She had a fancy hat that was carelessly sitting on the grass beside her.
A thought incongruously slid through my head that even though I was ready to put all the bullshit with my ex-wife behind me and find a new woman to dote on, this woman was a whole different level of crazy that I did not want to get involved with. On the other hand, I couldn't just ignore her for an hour, so I stepped out of the car and wandered into the cemetery to greet her.
"Good afternoon," I offered. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but my car quit and I will be here for a bit."
She didn't acknowledge me or my words as she continued to read.
"You have chosen an odd location to sit and read," I ventured, hoping to break through her rudeness.
Her ice-blue eyes looked sharply at me and then back to the book.
"Sometimes the location chooses the reader," she announced. With an edge to her voice, she added, "You have chosen an odd location to pretend your conveyance has failed."
I was almost annoyed by her attitude. I didn't choose to break down here. Trying not to sound annoyed, I said, "I can't help where my car decides to break down."
"Mayhap," she allowed as she closed her book and turned toward me. Her soft blue eyes measured me up and down. "May I ask you an odd question?" she queried.
"Would you like an odd answer?" I teased. I swear all of the available evidence still suggested that the woman was bat-shit crazy, and yet my stupid brain couldn't help but flirt with her.
Her lips quirked into a flirtatious smile as she considered my reply. Finally, she asked, "How well can you see? Can you tell what book I am reading?"
I had to agree that those were odd questions. I couldn't stop my eyebrow from cocking as I let my eyes wander down past the evidence of her modest cleavage and to the spine of the book in her hand.
"That's two questions," I teased. "Apropos given the Dickens' Tale of Two Cities that you are reading."
Her eyes flared.
"Many have stopped," she said, "but few can see."
I wasn't sure what her book had to do with anything. I'm sure I looked puzzled. She pursed her lips and smiled again.
"Some can see a woman sitting alone," she explained. "Most can see the dress, and some can see the face, but few understand the pose, and rarely do they see the book. None, save you, have read the title. I hope there is an omen there, for I should like to ask a favor of your assistance."
"A beautiful woman like you need only smile and a guy like me will trip over his own feet trying to help you," I flirted. "Should you hint at the reward of a kiss, I might give you anything you ask for."
The flirtatious smile returned as she considered how far to lead me on. "Be careful what you offer," she suggested. Then her face turned very serious.
"My name is Kathryn Knowlton," she stated. She took a half step to the side and struck an odd pose. "I was born in rural Pennsylvania in 1813. My family moved to Chicago in 1821 and my father was quite prosperous. I died for a noble cause just before the War Between the States. I was buried here on lands that our family owned."
I have heard of people that take role playing a bit too far. The crazy woman before me obviously had some deep issues if she identified with the name on the gravestone that she was posing with. I glanced up the road to see if there was any sign of my son-in-law because it was time to get as far from her as possible. If only my stupid mouth would have shut up.
"So what can I do for you, Katherine?" I asked.
"Kathryn," she corrected me. "I doubt you can let me take a kiss, so what I need is for someone to help my great granddaughter. I can show you where she will find the key to hidden financial resources, but you have to promise that you will not take any for yourself."
"A kiss is such an easy gift to share," I flirted. My brain yelled at me.
"What's in it for me?" my practical side asked.
A frown of concentration pressed onto her eyes. Her nostrils flared as she stared at my lips. She stepped up close to me and her hands touched my chest. The layers and bulk of her dress had made her seem larger than she actually was. The top of her head was barely up to my nose. Standing so close to me, her eyes burrowed into my neck and jawline.
"I don't know," she murmured. She sounded very sad. She lifted her lips to my throat. I heard her gasp as her soft lips barely touched my skin, but I recall nothing after that.
===
I woke up in a hospital bed. The doctors were pleased that I had recovered, but they were still very puzzled at how I was found nearly frozen to death. Not many people suffer from hypothermia in the middle of summer. They had a long list of symptoms for me to watch out for and some treatments for the frostbite on my neck, but they were willing to let me go home.
My daughter and son-in-law wanted to know what game I was playing. When they arrived at the cemetery, my car was parked but still running. They found me half-frozen on the ground by the bench. They said there was frost all around me on the ground, but no footprints, not even my own. There were no signs of anyone else being there. I didn't have an answer for that.
They took me home to my apartment, and my daughter stayed to keep an eye on me as the doctors had asked. When everything seemed normal the next morning, she left to go to work. Everything was fine.
Everything was fine except I had doctor's orders to take a couple of days off work. Everything was fine except I had a ridiculous fear of going anywhere near my car. I was not afraid of the car itself. I was afraid that when I got in it, it wouldn't matter where I was headed. I was going to find myself driving to that graveyard, and I could only foresee bad things happening after that.
At the same level that I feared that trip, I also knew exactly what would free me from that fear. I had no idea where that knowledge came from, but I assumed that the crazy lady in the cemetery must have told me. It took all day to work up the courage to deliver the message I had been entrusted with.
It was late afternoon as I walked across town and up to the old Victorian house on Main Street. In my mind's eye, I could see it as it had been, with fresh paint and a beautiful yard. In reality, the place was pretty run down. It had been years since it had been painted, and the roof looked like it would leak. The yard was patchy and the ancient maple tree in the yard was split in two and half dead. Summoning the last of my courage, I carefully crossed the dilapidated porch and knocked on the door.
The face of an urchin appeared in the window beside the door.
"Go to the side door," the child suggested. I looked at the door in front of me and the urchin rolled her eyes as if I were being stupid. "It doesn't open, go to the side door," she explained.
I carefully retreated and walked around to the side of the house. The urchin met me at a screen door there. I could see the kitchen behind her.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"I am looking for the owner of the house," I said carefully.
"Is this about money?" she demanded. I almost laughed. She sounded awfully full of herself for an eight-year-old.
"I guess it is," I admitted.
She turned and yelled into the house. "Aunty Rin, there's a bill collector here for you!"
"I'm not a bill collector," I informed the child.
"That's what you all say," she replied, sounding like she knew she was right.
My heart was pounding in my chest as I feared who would answer the child's summons. I was pleasantly surprised when a good looking woman in her mid-thirties entered the kitchen and crossed the room. Her warm brown eyes gave me a cool appraisal as she approached. I was very relieved that it wasn't the woman from the cemetery.
"How may I help you?" she asked.
"Actually, I am here to help you, I think," I replied. "I have a message for you, but if you have a few minutes, I have an odd story to tell you that might make the message more believable."
She gave me a tired look as she tried to size me up.
"If you're with the ghost people from the Travel Channel, I've already said I'm not interested." she said.
"Ghost people?" I asked to try to gauge if she was as crazy as the woman in the cemetery.
"I'm sure you know the history of this house and just how many of my ancestors have died here," she scoffed. "In spite of the claims made about my mother, and about her grandmother, nothing remotely paranormal has ever happened here, and it never will."
An odd look crossed her face as she said, "I don't care how much money you are offering. I cannot allow strange men to wander around in my house for no reason."
Just then, another woman came hurrying through the kitchen. She looked like a younger version of the woman I was speaking to, with dark eyes and dark hair. She grabbed a purse and keys from the table and was hurrying toward the door before she noticed the two of us standing there.
"Oh, hi," she said with a startled smile. She turned to the first woman. "I need to run to the high school and get Katy, and then Suzy and I are stopping at the store to get that thing for her school project. Do you want me to wait?"
The woman before me smiled and shook her head. "I'll be fine. I believe he was just leaving. Or he will be shortly."
After a quick glance at each of us, the second woman looked at me and said, "Okay. We will be right back."
She grabbed the urchin and they hurried out the door and past me to the car in the drive. I smiled at the implied warning. Our high school is in the next town over. The trip there and back would be at least a half hour. I intended to be long gone by then.
"May I start over?" I asked the woman in the house. Before she could answer, I said, "Hi, my name is John. An odd thing happened to me on the way home from work yesterday, and I'd like to tell you about it."
The woman graced me with an overly-sweet smile and said, "Hi John.