Ghost a La Mode (10 page)

She stopped in at Mom's Pie House and ordered a cup of coffee with a slice of warm apple pie and vanilla ice cream. She didn't know how long she'd be in Julian but figured she'd be there long enough to sample the goods of all the pie shops. Her earlier vow of prejudice aside, she was fast becoming a fan of apple pie, and since Julian was famous for it, it seemed almost sacrilegious to order any other kind.

Needing to walk off the apple pie, Emma headed up Main Street, past the main intersection, past the Julian Pie Company, and past the Julian Grille. According to the city guide, the Pioneer Cemetery was just up the street. Emma wondered if Granny was buried there and, if so, would she be able to find her grave. She hoped Granny would return to help her.

The Pioneer Cemetery was located at the top of a hill at the edge of the commercial part of town. Its presence was announced by a large, white wrought-iron arch over a winding, uphill path. To aid the steep climb, steps of railroad ties were embedded into the land and followed the path. Alongside the steps was a sturdy railing made of fresh lumber. At the beginning of the climb was a plaque informing visitors that until 1924, when a road access was developed, all coffins were carried up the steep hill, no matter what the season.

Looking again at the simple city map, Emma located the easier road access yet decided to make the climb. It would do her-and the pie in her stomach-good. She also wanted to take the same path Granny had taken when she'd buried Jacob shortly before her own death.

Whether they realized it or not, the inhabitants of the Pioneer Cemetery had a fabulous view of the town and surrounding hills with their lush vegetation and pine trees. Locating a bench under the leafy canopy of a large tree, Emma sat down and looked out, enjoying the countryside that was so different from Pasadena and the bustle of Los Angeles. She wished she'd brought someone with her. Julian was a romantic and peaceful place, yet she knew Grant would never have enjoyed it. Not fast enough. Not trendy enough. Not modern enough. Maybe Tracy, Emma thought. Tracy would have enjoyed this trip and this town, but Emma still hadn't told her friend about Granny Apples. Only her mother and Milo knew that Emma had embarked on a journey into the past with Ish Reynolds. Perhaps she could bring Tracy next time. Who knew, maybe next time she'd have someone new to travel with.

Her thoughts surprised her. Not once since she'd left Grant had she thought about the possibility of someone else. Both her mother and Tracy had made some not-so-subtle hints about Emma dating again, but Emma still felt married. She was still married. In spite of his behavior, Emma didn't feel finding someone new was an option until it was finally over with Grant Whitecastle. Sitting on top of a hill in Julian, California, surrounded by the dead, she wondered if maybe she hadn't buried her marriage yet-if, in fact, deep down, she hoped it could be resurrected like Lazarus and given new life, even with everything that had happened between them.

After taking a deep breath of the clean mountain air, Emma put thoughts of her marriage aside. It was then she noticed the chill. Now comfortable with the feeling, Emma smiled and turned to her right, expecting to see Granny. Instead, sitting next to her on the bench was the ghost of a man.

"Oh my God!" Emma yelled as she jumped up from the bench, catching her foot on a tree root in the process. Down she went to her hands and knees. Like a crab caught on dry land, she quickly scrambled away from the bench. Once she was several feet away, she turned and sat in the dirt amongst the country graves and stared at her new companion.

"I didn't mean to give you a fright, ma'am," the spirit said to her. The image was of a young man, maybe in his early twenties, with a smooth face and dark, unruly hair. He wore work trousers with suspenders, heavy boots, and a plaid shirt.

"Who ... who are you?" Emma had just gotten used to seeing Granny, and now she was seeing a new apparition. Her legs were shaking so bad, she didn't dare get back on her feet.

"Billy Winslow, ma'am."

"How come I can see you, Billy?" Emma calmed herself down enough to be able to get to her feet, but she still kept her distance.

"Not sure, ma'am. I was sitting here like I always do when you came and sat down yerself. Lots of city folks come up here, but you're the first talking to me."

Emma brushed off the seat of her trousers, knowing it would take more than her hands to get the dirt out of the good weave. She gave up on cleaning herself and studied the image. Once past her initial start, she wondered if she should ask Billy if he knew Granny or her family when he was alive. Believing she wouldn't know until she tried, she started phrasing her question when her peripheral vision caught sight of something flitting by her. She looked away from Billy Winslow and glanced around the graveyard.

"Oh ... my... God!"

"MILO, WE HAVE A problem," Emma snapped into her cell phone. "A big problem."

She was still in the Pioneer Cemetery. Across from her, the ghost of Billy Winslow kept his vigil on the bench.

"There are ghosts everywhere," she continued, without waiting for Milo to speak. "I feel like I'm on the Haunted Mansion ride at Disneyland. All I need is the spooky music and mouse ears."

"What do you mean by `everywhere,' Emma? Where are you? In Julian?"

"Yes, in Julian. At the cemetery."

"And you can see them?"

"Yes! Why do you think I'm so upset? I mean, one or two, here and there, maybe I could absorb that idea. But this-this is like a ghost convention."

She looked out across the uneven land that comprised the graveyard. Even though it was daylight, she could make out numerous images, some more distinct than others. Some were moving, some stationary, but all were obviously spirits of the dead. Except for Billy Winslow, none had spoken to her or even looked in her direction. She started counting.

"There's about a dozen that I can make out," she said into the phone. "Various ages, both men and women." On the other end of the phone there was a long silence. "Milo, you still there?"

"This is incredible, Emma." Milo's voice was filled with excitement. "The most I've seen at any one time is three."

"What? You think this is a contest?"

Milo laughed. "No, of course not." Another pause. "Emma, is Granny there?"

"Not at this moment. At least not that I can see. Of course, she could be lost in the crowd."

"Emma, listen to me." Milo's voice was stable and comforting. "These spirits are not going to hurt you. Just go about your business. What's up with the cemetery, anyway?"

"I wanted to see if Granny and her husband were buried here. Not sure why. It was just a whim."

"Well, your whim answered our question of whether or not you'd be able to see other spirits besides Granny and your aunt. Did any of them speak to you?"

"Just one. A young man. He introduced himself and apologized for giving me a fright."

Milo laughed again. "A well-mannered ghost."

"This isn't funny, Milo. I about had a heart attack."

"Just relax, Emma. Apparently, these spirits feel very comfortable around you. They trust you."

"What about my comfort level?"

"You'll get used to it."

"I don't want to get used to it, Milo. I want to help Granny Apples, then be done with this."

Milo paused before speaking, taking a minute to weigh his next words. Emma again thought the call had been dropped.

"You there, Milo?"

"Emma, you may not have a choice in the matter. Now that you've opened yourself to the other side, it may be difficult to shut the door. Not impossible, but difficult."

"You mean, I'm stuck with this for the rest of my life?"

"I'm not sure. I've never met someone like you before. But for now, why don't you just go forward with your research for Granny, and ignore the others. Pretend they're not there. When you get back home, you and I can try to figure this out."

"I don't have much choice, do I?"

"Emma, these spirits allowing you to see them is a privilege and an honor. It's not a curse."

"Depends on your point of view."

After her call with Milo, Emma gave Billy Winslow a nod goodbye. He gave her a cordial wave in return.

Even though there was a narrow roadway winding through the cemetery, Emma took a deep breath and started making her way among the graves, scrub grass, and spirits lingering in the graveyard. None of them paid attention to her. The roadway circled a knoll that contained most of the graves. On the far side of the road, facing the town, the land sloped, forming natural graded levels that contained more graves. She decided to explore the central area first.

She noted that some of the graves were arranged in obvious family plots. Others were scattered helter-skelter throughout the place. It was almost as if someone had decided to dig a grave wherever the coffin was dropped, with no eye to order and placement. The dates on the tombstones covered a wide range of years. She spotted some beginning in the mid-1800s and some that were as late as the 1930s. The tombstones marking the graves were just as diverse. Some graves were marked with solid and stately headstones, others with large chunks of weathered wood or large rocks, but most were marked with roughly hewn blocks of stone or concrete the size of a large shoebox. Names on the headstones were either primitively carved into the stone or etched on a small metal plate attached to the stone. Some of the names and dates were easily discernible, while most were difficult to read. Many featured only the name of the deceased.

At the top of the mound of graves was a redwood gazebo with a short, white picket fence surrounding the inside area. Just to the right of the gazebo, the ghost of a young pioneer woman sat under a tree and rocked a baby. As Emma approached, she noted that the woman was cradling nothing in her arms. She rocked back and forth, her empty arms comforting air.

Turning her gaze away from the rocking spirit, Emma stepped toward the gravesite. In the middle was a modern headstone with fine etching. Scattered around it were a few broken and weathered wooden crosses, some little more than dried kindling. The headstone explained that the plot was where babies were buried in the late 1870s. Emma was deeply touched. Over the years, the people of Julian had not forgotten the children of the early settlers and had erected a fitting memorial.

Emma glanced over at the rocking mother with new understanding.

"Three of my children are buried here," a familiar voice whispered from behind Emma.

Emma turned to her left, not surprised to see the ghost of Ish Reynolds. "Three?"

Granny nodded. "Two came before their time. Never had a chance to make it. Another, a girl, died of pneumonia during her first winter."

"I'm sorry, Granny."

Granny looked at the memorial. "That time, this place, was unkind to the weak."

Emma turned back toward the childless rocking mother, but the spirit had vanished.

She moved away from the children's gravesite and started again to wander among the scattered graves. Granny followed and didn't seem either bothered or excited that they were not alone. She took no particular note of any of the other spirits.

"Granny, are you and Jacob buried here?"

In response, the ghost of Granny Apples drifted through the cemetery. Emma followed, dodging scattered headstones and being careful of the uneven terrain and the spirits around her. Granny paused on the side of a small rise, several yards from the top. Emma looked down, scanning the various weather-worn headstones for a familiar name. It took her a couple of minutes before she spotted what Granny wanted to show her.

Two small hewn blocks were set side by side. Emma knelt beside them in an attempt to better read the metal nameplates. Neither displayed a date of death, only names. Close up, Reynolds was fairly clear on both. Touching the warm metal with her fin gers, she traced out Jacob on the grave to the left. She did the same with the plate on the grave to the right.

She glanced up at Granny with a puzzled look. "It says Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth is my Christian name. When I was a girl, my younger brother had trouble saying it. It came out as Ish and stayed Ish."