box Father Anne held in her outstretched hand. As Father Anne said the words of the burial rite, the shimmer grew a little more visible.
Father Anne didn’t try to say the whole burial service. That wasn’t why we were here. Tad’s mortal remains were long gone. We came to lay his spirit to rest, and from the subtle iridescence that floated just above the velvet box, I had the feeling that Tad was finally going to be able to move on.
“…be with us all evermore. Amen.” Father Anne finished the prayer, and the faint shimmering glow rippled once and then winked out. She looked at me and held out the box. “Do you want to see if he’s really gone?”
I nodded and took a deep breath, then reached out to take the box. I felt a tingle of old power, and dimly, I could sense images from the vision I had seen before. But Tad’s lonely ghost had departed. I slipped the box into my pocket. “He’s gone.”
Father Anne smiled. “Well, that’s my good deed for the day, I suppose. Tad was long overdue to make it home.” At first, we didn’t say much as we headed back to our cars. Then I had a question that I couldn’t get out of my mind.
“If you can lay a ghost to rest, how come Charleston has so many restless spirits?”
Father Anne shrugged. “Monkey’s fist.”
“Come again?”
“Didn’t you ever hear the story about how people trap monkeys by putting a banana in a bottle? When the monkey reaches in, his hand fits. But when he makes a fist and grabs the banana, his hand is too big to come out. Unless he lets go of the banana, he’s stuck.”
Since I hadn’t seen any ghosts holding bottled bananas, I was confused.
She chuckled. “Some of the ghosts are stone tape recordings – memories, not really spirits. A few, like Tad, got lost on the way to that bright light at the end of the tunnel. And probably a few more are actually trapped by something nefarious, like a cursed object. But it’s my bet that the majority of ghosts are here because there’s something they don’t want to let go of – like the monkey’s banana.”
Father Anne shrugged. “They might be holding on to memories, or love, or vengeance, or maybe they just want to be heard. But if that’s the case, then they can get free on their own when they’re ready, by letting go and walking away.”
Put that way, it sounded like the spirits of the dearly departed needed a supernatural shrink more than an exorcist. “Yeah,” I replied. “But do the ghosts know that?”
“Probably,” she said as we came into view of our cars. “How many times have you struggled with something, only to realize that you actually knew what to do all along?” She gave a sad smile. “They might be dead, but they’re only human.”
We had parked our cars not far inside the entrance gate, near where the large central pond divides one side of the cemetery from another. Father Anne gave me a hug and said good-bye.
“Call me if you need something,” she said. “There’s been some strange stuff going on lately. If there’s a way I can help, count me in.”
I thanked her profusely, then waved as she drove off. That’s when I heard something stirring in the pond.
I turned sharply. Nothing moved along the banks of the pond, but I saw a ripple in its dark waters. A sign warned visitors not to feed the alligators. It’s the Coastal South. If there’s water, there’s gonna be ’gators. I watched for a moment, and could have sworn I saw something long and black move beneath the water, but it was there and gone too quickly to be sure.
I decided that now was a good time to leave, so I got into the car and headed out, watching all around me. There didn’t seem to be anything unusual, so I made the turn onto Huguenin Avenue and headed back to town.
The afternoon’s work had done a real number on my mood. Even though we had released Tad’s spirit, I had been struggling with a feeling of guilt that had been growing on me since I arrived at the cemetery. People are going to die, and it’s all my fault. I’m just not cut out for this. My magic isn’t strong enough. If I’d have been any good at this, Jonathan wouldn’t have disappeared. All my fault –