staircase this week,” Sunny says proudly as she runs her hand along the banister.
“You’ve done a beautiful job,” I reply truthfully.
She smiles before saying, “I assume you want to see the front bedroom?” I nod as she leads me to a closed bedroom. “Go ahead. You’ll see no one but spiders has lived in that bedroom for over a hundred years.”
I open the door, and find a small oil lamp lit in the corner and a pair of work boots at the foot of the bed. I grab Sunny’s arm. “He’s right there!” I whisper, pulling out a new cell phone from Marina. “In the bed! I told you he was living here! I think we should call the police!”
Sunny’s brows furrow. “Becky Jo, no one’s in that room.”
“Are you blind?” I demand. “He’s sleeping in the bed! He didn’t even bother to take off his work clothes!”
Sunny’s eyes open wide as though she’s had some sort of epiphany. “Maybe I am blind. Describe this man to me.”
“Curly brown hair, brown eyes, handsome, a lot taller than me,” I say irately.
She quietly shuts the door. “And his friends, what do they look like?”
“One is skinny and walks with a limp. He’s the one who’s always singing. The other is huge, like giant huge, and really serious. All three are total jerks. I’ve asked them to stop the singing, and they ignore me, and now one of them is trespassing in your house. Do you think he’ll wake up before the police arrive?”
Sunny’s eyes remain wide as she takes away my phone before I can dial 911. “Becky Jo, this is important. Has anyone ever told you about what it means to be born with the veil?”
“Mama was always going on about me being special because I was born with the veil, but I don’t know how that has anything to do with some guy sleeping in your house!”
“First,” she points at the closed door, “that’s not just any guy. That is Colonel James Blair. And second, it’s his house.”
I shake my head. “He’s too young to be a colonel, and this is definitely your house. I mean you pay the taxes and everything.”
“He’s not too young to be a colonel in the Confederate cavalry, in his day anyway. And yes, it’s my house now, but it was his house first.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Becky Jo, did you know you were born with the veil?”
“I already told you, Mama said I was. She would have known because she was there when I was born. What does this have to do with anything?”
“Some people are born with a sixth sense. Sometimes they have dreams of the future and see the other side. You have this sixth sense, or as many people call it, ‘the sight’. And you can unquestionably see ghosts. I don’t know how much plainer I need to be.”
“But it’s just an old wives’ tale. Mama was always telling me that I had the sight, but I thought it meant I could see the future?”
“Yes, and ghosts,” she says.
“Ghosts are supposed to be white, transparent, and shimmering. And I’ve never ever seen the one haunting Marina’s house. Besides, this guy’s not any of those things. I’ll wake him up and prove to you that he’s not a ghost.”
Sunny stops me from turning the door knob. “Colonel Blair lived a short and sad life. Let the poor man get what little peace he can. This can be settled another way. I have a couple photos of Colonel Blair on the mantel. It’s easier to identify him with them than to make a ghost angry.”
I relent and follow her downstairs. I’ll prove to her, once and for all, the guy trespassing in her house isn’t some dead Confederate colonel.
“Here it is.” She takes a golden frame off her mantel and hands it to me. “This is a glass-plate ambrotype of James as a private when he first entered the Confederate Cavalry with his father, Captain John Blair. It took me a lot of work to acquire this.”
I gasp when I see the photo. I would recognize those haunted eyes anywhere.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” Sunny asks.
“He looks
“You’ve done a beautiful job,” I reply truthfully.
She smiles before saying, “I assume you want to see the front bedroom?” I nod as she leads me to a closed bedroom. “Go ahead. You’ll see no one but spiders has lived in that bedroom for over a hundred years.”
I open the door, and find a small oil lamp lit in the corner and a pair of work boots at the foot of the bed. I grab Sunny’s arm. “He’s right there!” I whisper, pulling out a new cell phone from Marina. “In the bed! I told you he was living here! I think we should call the police!”
Sunny’s brows furrow. “Becky Jo, no one’s in that room.”
“Are you blind?” I demand. “He’s sleeping in the bed! He didn’t even bother to take off his work clothes!”
Sunny’s eyes open wide as though she’s had some sort of epiphany. “Maybe I am blind. Describe this man to me.”
“Curly brown hair, brown eyes, handsome, a lot taller than me,” I say irately.
She quietly shuts the door. “And his friends, what do they look like?”
“One is skinny and walks with a limp. He’s the one who’s always singing. The other is huge, like giant huge, and really serious. All three are total jerks. I’ve asked them to stop the singing, and they ignore me, and now one of them is trespassing in your house. Do you think he’ll wake up before the police arrive?”
Sunny’s eyes remain wide as she takes away my phone before I can dial 911. “Becky Jo, this is important. Has anyone ever told you about what it means to be born with the veil?”
“Mama was always going on about me being special because I was born with the veil, but I don’t know how that has anything to do with some guy sleeping in your house!”
“First,” she points at the closed door, “that’s not just any guy. That is Colonel James Blair. And second, it’s his house.”
I shake my head. “He’s too young to be a colonel, and this is definitely your house. I mean you pay the taxes and everything.”
“He’s not too young to be a colonel in the Confederate cavalry, in his day anyway. And yes, it’s my house now, but it was his house first.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Becky Jo, did you know you were born with the veil?”
“I already told you, Mama said I was. She would have known because she was there when I was born. What does this have to do with anything?”
“Some people are born with a sixth sense. Sometimes they have dreams of the future and see the other side. You have this sixth sense, or as many people call it, ‘the sight’. And you can unquestionably see ghosts. I don’t know how much plainer I need to be.”
“But it’s just an old wives’ tale. Mama was always telling me that I had the sight, but I thought it meant I could see the future?”
“Yes, and ghosts,” she says.
“Ghosts are supposed to be white, transparent, and shimmering. And I’ve never ever seen the one haunting Marina’s house. Besides, this guy’s not any of those things. I’ll wake him up and prove to you that he’s not a ghost.”
Sunny stops me from turning the door knob. “Colonel Blair lived a short and sad life. Let the poor man get what little peace he can. This can be settled another way. I have a couple photos of Colonel Blair on the mantel. It’s easier to identify him with them than to make a ghost angry.”
I relent and follow her downstairs. I’ll prove to her, once and for all, the guy trespassing in her house isn’t some dead Confederate colonel.
“Here it is.” She takes a golden frame off her mantel and hands it to me. “This is a glass-plate ambrotype of James as a private when he first entered the Confederate Cavalry with his father, Captain John Blair. It took me a lot of work to acquire this.”
I gasp when I see the photo. I would recognize those haunted eyes anywhere.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” Sunny asks.
“He looks
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