Free A Timely Concerto by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy Page B

released her fingers and held up a hand. “It wasn’t. That is just what I thought at the time. I do not know what time I died but what I remember is that I woke up. Sunshine was pouring through the windows and I felt fine, not sick any longer. I thought I was recovering. I got up, feeling light and well.”
    One tear slipped from the corner of his eye but there was no other outward sign of his emotions. “I came downstairs, so happy that I was well again. The first indication that something was not quite as it should be was when I passed the mirror at the foot of the stairs. I could not see my reflection. That was odd but I did not think too much about it. I followed voices into the parlor and there was a crowd of people. Mother, Father, and Miss Julia were on the large divan. Mother and Miss Julia were crying; they had handkerchiefs clutched in their hands. Albert and his wife were there, so was young Lucille. Lucy, as we called here, was staring at something and I wondered what she saw. My cousin, Maggie had come from Illinois along with other relatives and I wondered what on earth they were all doing in the parlor.”
    “Some of the hands from the farm were there, business people from town, friends, and people from church had gathered. I did not know why until I walked through the room and saw what Lucille saw. It was a coffin and I was in it, dressed in my best suit, eyes closed, hair brushed. I screamed but no one heard me.”
    His hands trembled and he put them over his face for a moment, as if he could erase the horror he felt when he realized he had died. Recovered after a moment, he continued,
    “I tried to talk to my parents but they turned away. I believe that Mother heard my voice because she turned pale but she would not meet my eyes. When I tried to touch people, they ignored me or brushed at their sleeves. I could not reach any of them so I stood in the corner and watched my funeral. When it came time to carry the casket outside, I followed but when we reached the side portico doors, I could not go further. I still fail to understand that but it was as if I hit a wall or barrier. So, I stared from the door as the hearse moved away, the horses wearing black feathers, and saw the line of carriages follow my body away to the cemetery. I fear I don’t even know for certain where I am buried but I believe it must be at IOOF cemetery, the one outside town.”
    Howard sighed. “The day of my funeral this haunting began, this cursed half-existence. I attempted for years to reach my mother and my father. Cousin Maggie came to live with them after my death and was my mother’s companion for years. Shugie, I know, could both hear and see me but when she told Mother that she could, Mother dismissed her on the spot. She accused poor Shugie of witchcraft or worse. From then until you came to Seven Oaks, dear Lillian, no one thought of me as more than a ghost, something to be afraid of or to ignore. You make me feel like a man again, a person and not just a vapor. I thank you for that.”
    Lillian choked out the words through tears. “You’re welcome, Howard. I don’t know what to say except “I’m sorry” and that doesn’t seem like enough. I can’t begin to imagine how you felt or must feel.”
    He pushed back the chair and stood. “You care, Lillian, and that means a great deal. I feel that I am fading – at long last, I recognize the signs and so I will go before I vanish before your eyes again. Sometime, maybe tomorrow, we can talk about the things you have learned about spirits and hauntings but I will leave you now. It is evening and almost nightfall so good night, Lillian. Adieu.”
    The last thing she wanted was Howard leaving. Lillian wanted to talk, to continue the conversation into the wee hours of the next day but he was already walking through the kitchen door, his shoulders dimmer than the rest of his body so she could do nothing but call after him,
    “See you later, Howard.”
    The door