Seven Turns: A Ghost Story/A Love Story

How Sofie Died



Cally put her cell phone on the desk and connected her earbuds to it, intending to transcribe the conversation with the Captain she had recorded the day before. This proved more difficult than she had expected, because the phone had picked up some kind of interference or background noise during the recording. It sounded like a classroom full of unruly children who wouldn’t stop chattering while the teacher was trying to talk, and Cally had a hard time, at points, picking the Captain’s words out from the noise.

She was relieved to have an excuse to look up when a shadow fell across the front door. Ben Dawes from the News Store was peering in through the screen, holding a basket in his arms, smiling at her and saying something that was probably “May I come in?”

“Come in!” Cally said, plucking out the earbuds and pausing the recording. “What can I do for you?”

He came to the desk and smiled down at her. The basket he carried was fragrant with mixed blossoms that spilled over its brim.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Ms. McCarthy,” he said, and then, “I mean, here at the desk. They’ve put you to work?”

“Please call me Cally,” she said, and then “I’ve volunteered. To help Bethany until she gets better.”

“This is for Bethany,” he said, nodding down at the basket in his arms. “Bree put it together for her, from her herb garden. Wildflowers and healing herbs, she says.”

“That was sweet of her,” Cally said, still amused at how fast news traveled in this small town. Looking past the basket to his face, she wondered again at the extremely unusual shade of blue in his eyes. “Kind of like blue moonstone,” she thought to herself.

He bent over the desk and set the basket down. “There’s chocolate in here for her, too, and some magazines from the store. Some of them are even current!” He chuckled at his own joke. More striking than the blue of his eyes, Cally thought, was the way so many tiny lines radiated out from the corners of them, like rays of sunshine. “I hope everything is going well for you, here. Cally.”

“Everything is fine.” She barely heard herself speak. Her heart was beating far too quickly, she noticed, and her body was doing things it had not done in years. She tried to remind it that it was far too old for that sort of thing, and besides, blue was only a color. Lots of people had blue eyes. “Bethany’s asleep right now, I’m afraid,” she said. “The pain medicine knocks her out. But you can leave this with me and I’ll see that she gets it. Thank you so much, and thank Bree, too.”

Ben stepped back from the desk. “I hope you have a wonderful afternoon, Cally,” he said, casting a final smile over his shoulder before pushing the screen door open. Cally sat back and let out her breath. She felt as if she had run a mile.

“Why did you do that?” It was Katarina, calling down from the top of the stairs.

“Do what?” Cally pretended to read over the transcribed text on her computer screen as Katarina ran down to the Hall.

“Just sent him packing like that!”

“What? I told him thank-you!”

“You could have offered to walk with him to take it up to her. Or something like that.” Katarina was grinning hugely. “Something to keep him around longer!”

“Why would I do that?” Cally said into the computer screen.

“Callaghan McCarthy, he’s hot!”

Cally sat up and fixed Katarina with a level look. “I suppose he’s fairly decent-looking, for a middle-aged man with graying hair and a pot-belly.”

“And nice and skinny at the hip,” Katarina added, extending her thumbs and forefingers in a circle to approximate the circumference of a man’s hips.

“Kat!”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“Well, yes. I have. But does Ignacio know you have noticed?”

Katarina giggled. “It’s not too late! He’s still in the shade garden, beside the house. You could go out and invite him to dinner! Tell him it’s my invitation, if you’re too shy...”

“I am not shy. I’m just over that sort of thing. Never again. Anyway I’m too old now for that sort of silliness.”

Katarina snorted, causing her black bangs to fly up from her face. “You are never too old. With Ignacio and me, it just keeps getting better and ...”

Cally put up a hand to make Katarina stop. “Too much information!” she said. Then she grinned. “I am very happy for you and Ignacio. It’s nice to see a couple who are really in love, in this world, for a change.”

“Well, speaking of this nice little couple, Ignacio and I would like to invite you to dinner at our house tonight. No, we insist! I promise it won’t be tacos.”

“Kat, I like tacos.”

“We’ll make you some another time, then. But tonight we are having a nice pozole that Ignacio put in the crock pot this morning. Not too spicy, because we intended to invite you.”

Cally smiled and sighed. “Very well, then, but only if you promise not to say anything else to me about Ben Dawes.”

Katarina crossed herself, but the look in her eye was still mischievous. “I promise.”

J

Cally put the phones into night mode as Katrina had showed her, and took Bree’s gift basket up to Bethany. Bethany was sound asleep, but Cyndi Lauper stood up and sniffed the air when Cally came into the room. “Oh, I hope none of these ‘healing herbs’ are catnip,” she thought, moving things around on the night stand to make room for the basket there. She saw that Foster had, indeed, brought the new prescription for Bethany, but now there were two pill bottles standing side-by-side on the night stand, and though she scrutinized them closely, Cally couldn’t tell the difference between them. The name of the drug typed on the labels was the same, and both had the same date. The only difference was that the tiny print stated different strengths per tablet. Cally made a mental note to ask Foster later if Bethany still needed both bottles, or if one of them should be taken back to the pharmacy. In the meantime, she moved them both out of Bethany’s reach so she wouldn’t wake up in a medicinal fog and accidentally take more than she should.

She made a quick trip to the Rose Room to put her computer on the desk. Locking the door behind her as she came back out of the room, she saw George standing at the end of the hall near the Butler’s desk. He looked like he wanted to say something to her, but Cally didn’t want to keep Katarina waiting. “I’ll be back in a little while,” she promised him, waving as she turned away, and she was surprised to find herself actually looking forward to talking with him again.

Katarina had served dessert for Ian and his family, as well as the Captain and Joan, in the dining room by the time Cally met her in the kitchen. Cally cocked her head back toward the dining room. “Where does Joan live, then?” she asked. “She makes so much of all these moochers and freeloaders she believes are taking advantage of Ian’s good nature, but I never see her leave here, herself.”

Katarina took off her apron and shouldered her purse. “She has a house of her own, down in Charlotte,” she said, “but you’re right, she hardly ever leaves here. I think she sleeps on the sofa in her office most nights. Though if you asked her, she would probably say that’s just because she’s up working on ‘all this paperwork’ all night long!” She laughed. Cally did not.

They went out through the kitchen door into the neat formal garden behind Vale House. Dusk deepened as they walked over the grass to the west end of the property where the little stone cottage stood. “Foster tells me this used to be the kitchen for Vale House,” Cally said.

“Yes, it was! In those days, kitchens were always separate buildings. To keep the house from catching fire if the kitchen caught fire, you see!”

“It doesn’t seem to have helped keep Vale House from catching fire a few times in its history, though,” Cally remarked.

“I’m just glad Vale House has a modern kitchen now,” she said. “I can’t imagine having to carry food from here to the dining room and expect it to still be warm when I get there!” They rounded the gazebo and from there Cally could see a small, fenced vegetable garden. Ignacio was just closing the door of a tool shed that was apparently also the chicken coop. He reached over the fence to pluck some cilantro and a few tomatoes from the vegetable garden as he joined them.

The little stone building that had once been Vale House’s kitchen was nearly swallowed up in overgrown shrubbery and wild grape vines, but its glowing windows peeped cheerfully out over a wide, cracked stone porch. A rich, spicy aroma billowed out in a cloud when Katarina opened the door and ushered Cally inside.

The kitchen was still the biggest part of the cottage, though the rear had been walled off. Cally assumed the back half of the building was now the couple’s sleeping space. Ignacio pulled a chair out from the small wooden table for Cally. “Welcome,” he said, bowing deeply, “to our little home.”

Kat ladled stew from the crock pot on the counter into deep bowls for all of them. It was rich with hominy and vegetables and tender chicken, but if Ignacio had tried to make it “not too spicy” for Cally’s sake, he had overestimated her tolerance for spice. She struggled to swallow the first bite, and Katarina blustered with apologies. “No, it’s fine, it’s delicious,” Cally gasped. She was telling the truth. “I’m just getting used to it...”

“Drink this.” Ignacio poured her a creamy drink which, when she sipped it, mellowed the spice on her tongue. “I can taste cinnamon,” she said of the beverage, and then, braving the stew again, “and lime and oregano. A very good combination. See, I can learn!” she said, still gasping a little.

Cally was glad she had accepted their invitation. Dining with the couple in their humble kitchen was a refreshing contrast to the often tense and pretentious atmosphere in the Vale House dining room, and the way Katarina and Ignacio joked with her and with each other put Cally’s heart at ease. She almost forgot Foster’s warning to her that Ignacio might not be the gentleman he seemed to be, and she had to make a special effort to keep half an eye open for anything incongruous in his behavior.

After the stew disappeared from the bowls, Katarina whisked them away to the sink just a few feet away, and Ignacio replaced them with tiny cups of strong coffee and plates of mango that he peeled and chopped while Katarina covered the pieces with chili powder and squeezed a lime over them. Cally smiled at how the couple worked together so easily, pausing whenever they passed to offer a loving touch or a word of endearment. She would never have this in her life, she knew; that ship had sailed. But it was still nice to think that other people really could have it. She sat back in contentment, picking at her desert, as the window over the kitchen sink grew dark and night noises began drifting in on the soft breeze.

“Now.” Katarina pushed her plate back purposefully and Ignacio jumped up to get the coffee pot to refill their cups. “You remember, Cally, that I was going to tell you something, last night after dinner. But I didn’t want to talk about it in front of Mr. May or the rest of the family.”

“Yes, I do remember, and I have been wondering what it was.”

“It’s the story of how Mrs. May died,” said Ignacio.

“Oh! No, I’m sorry,” Cally said, sitting up. “You don’t need to tell me that. It’s really not my business.”

“It’s alright,” said Katarina. “Everyone knows it. Well, everyone but you. And you should know.”

“By how everyone reacted to what Joan said, I’m guessing it was a fire.”

“Well, yes,” Katarina said. “But there was much more to it than that. You see, Mrs. May, she... well, she wasn’t well. You know how our Nellie is?”

“Oh, yes, I see. Some kind of mental illness.”

“Something like that.” Katarina’s face was uncharacteristically sober as she curled her hands around her cup. “Nobody knows... well, nobody knew then, what it was. Sofia was – they say – kind of like Nell is. I never met her, but that’s what they say.”

“She was,” Ignacio affirmed. “A very sweet woman, but also very odd. Harmless, but easily harmed. Does that make sense?”

Cally nodded, thinking that would also be an apt description of Nell.

“Well,” Katarina continued, “She had a good man. Ian protected her and they had a good life. They had little Nell. Ignacio met them when he came here on a guest-worker contract. Ignacio and I were just teenagers then. Mr. May was younger then, too, and he grew strawberries and tomatoes for market, here. He did a lot of the work himself. Ignacio would come every summer to help with the planting and harvest, and every winter when he came home he would tell me about how Mrs. May just got worse every year. The doctors tried giving her medicine...”

“They didn’t know what they were doing, back then,” Ignacio said sadly.

“The right medication does help some people with mental illnesses lead a more normal life,” Cally pointed out.

“Well in those days,” said Ignacio, “the medicine only made her worse. Or maybe she was just getting worse anyway. They decided she had to be put away. Ian didn’t like it but they told him it was for her own safety.” He shook his head.

“It was a nice place, though where they sent her to live,” said Katarina. “But it was all the way in Raleigh.”

“I guess it was nice enough,” said Ignacio. “I visited her sometimes with Ian, back then. Everyone was nice to her there. But it was so far away, and Sofie wasn’t happy. She wanted to be home with Ian, and Ian wanted her home, too.” He sat back and shrugged. “Ian made up his mind to sneak down there one night and bring her home. He and some of his friends, guys he had grown up with, they were all in on it. The Captain – we just called him Doug, back then – he had been Ian’s best man at their wedding, and some other guys who had been their friends for a long time.

“I wasn’t really in on the whole scheme, but they didn’t try to hide it from me, either. They talked about it on the porch, on the boat, every time they got together. They had it all planned out: they were going to sneak in and make it look like she escaped, then bring her home here, and if someone came looking for her they meant to show the doctors how much happier and better off Sofia was at home. But...” He looked down at his lap and shook his head.

“The building burned down.” Katarina concluded for him. “Before they even got there. Something about bad wiring. Ian and the guys got there in time to help, so it’s good they had this scheme of theirs, anyway. They helped get everyone out safely, except Sofia. Some say she ran back inside because she knew Ian was coming, and she didn’t want to miss his visit. They never found her body. There is a grave for Sofia over there in the family cemetery by the pond, but there is nobody in it.” Both Katarina and Ignacio crossed themselves, and Cally felt awkward because she had never been religious and didn’t know how to acknowledge the gesture.

“So, Ian was never the same, after that,” Katarina concluded. “I came to work here soon after all this, mostly to help with Nell, who was only a young girl then. Ignacio and I both got work visas, and a couple years ago Ignacio became a citizen.” She looked up at him when she said this, her eyes glowing with pride. “Mr. May has always treated us like family. But I think really he feels completely alone.”

Cally bit her lip. “I’m so sorry,” she said. She was thinking she hoped Nell wouldn’t suffer the same fate, even if it didn’t include the burning part.

“So now Mr. May spends most of his time in his rooms alone,” Katarina said. “And we’re all very thankful young Nellie has Foster to look after her. Ian’s biggest fear was that Nellie would be taken away, too. But Foster seems very devoted to her and makes sure she gets all the proper doctors and medication.”

“He’s a very successful businessman, back in Raleigh where they live now,” Ignacio said. “Nellie will always be well cared for, and that’s a big load off Ian’s mind.”


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