Jillian Chantal

This week the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt active. I am still in my same story with the woman who sees and speaks to ghosts. I am hopeful about getting to The End soon. I slowed down over the holidays and have to get my groove back.

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Lu didn’t really agree some evil entity from another plane was behind the injuries and deaths. The person in the red beanie was definitely alive. That much she was sure of. But perhaps an entity had whispered in that person’s ear. Who knows?

She decided not to argue with Jackson about it though. Easier to pick her battles with the man. And this wasn’t one of them. “That may be true, but perhaps they can identify the person in the red cap.”

“I doubt they can. How will they know a person who is alive now? Most of the spirits are long deceased.”

“I’m surprised you’d say that. Most of the spirits I’ve met are actively involved—at least when they’re in their awareness state—with the living.”

Startled by a tap on the driver’s side window, Lu let out a little screech before turning to see a security guard’s face peering in at her. He made a hand gesture for her to roll down her window.

When she had it half way down, he said, “Anything wrong? You’ve been sitting there a while.”

“No. No. Everything’s fine. I was on a call and didn’t want to be driving.”

He tilted the brim of his ball cap. “All right. Just don’t stay much longer. Parking is tight this time of day.”

After he walked back to his white truck with the logo of his company in the side, Jackson said, “In my day, a gentleman would never tell a lady she needed to move from where she was comfortably ensconced. Some changes in society are not very nice, Lula Mae.” He leaned to the side and looked at the truck. “And what is that nonsense scrawled on his conveyance?”

“It’s to let people know he’s in charge of the parking lot and when he knocks on the car window to scare you to death that he’s not a mad stalker or murderer and that it’s safe to roll down the window to speak to him.”

“That little symbol and the word Security tells you all that?” Jackson raised an eyebrow. “What is stopping some stalker—as you say—or murderer for that matter—from buying such a carriage and having his own sign painted on it? How that decoration makes one feel safe is questionable to me.”

“Good point. It would make a stellar cover story for someone with nefarious intent. I’ll not be so blasé in the future.”

This week the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt Song. I am still in my paranormal story but am close to being done with it. YAY!

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“Lula Mae, I know what you are mulling over. I can see it all over your countenance. You think the detective has been leading you in a song and dance and is not ready for the two of you to be courting. I hope to set your mind at ease with what I am going to say,” Jackson stopped walking at the passenger side door. “I shall ride with you as I tell you. I do not want to wait until we return to your home as I think I know you well enough by now that you will fret over that last conversation with the detective until you convince yourself he will never care for you in the way you desire.”

Lu looked over the top of the car at him. “You’re right. I’m already thinking it.” She opened her door and got in.

Inside, Jackson smiled a sad smile. “Listen to me carefully. The man has two children with the lady who has passed away. They have a deep abiding love that encompasses those children. My Rachel and I did not have any of our own but we adopted several. Those young people, as well as others we took into our home, strengthened the love and admiration we already had for each other when we wed. Nothing can break that. Not even death. But I am convinced—because I have seen him with you and how he looks at you—he is ready to be part of a twosome again and with you. He is a man who is from a family that is loving and he wants that for himself again.”

“How do you know that? Besides, he’s been pushing away from me all week.” She sighed as she turned onto the road. “And you saw him just now. He was extremely upset.”

“Yes, he was. Imagine this for a moment, Lula Mae. Pretend you had a husband you loved very much. A father to your children. You watched him become ill and fight a terrible disease and eventually succumb to it. Leaving you to raise those children alone.” He held his hand up to stop her reply. “I am not finished.”

She nodded at him to go on.

“Now imagine a couple of years later, you meet a man and think you could start over. And then you learn, as a result of your line of work, that a woman has killed her husband and you are tasked with investigating that death. Now, imagine the man you have begun to admire asks you to feel sorry for the woman who chose to end her husband’s life. A lady who didn’t treasure what she had, but voluntarily chose to end that person’s existence.”

Happy New Year! The writer’s of Tuesday Tales are starting 2024 with the word Lights. I’m still doing the paranormal story incorporating real ghost stories of my hometown. 

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To her shock, Lu suddenly spotted a woman, in a fancy gown from probably the 1700s, with no head walking toward her. A spirit for sure since there was no way anyone could be alive in that condition. Sometimes on the street, it was hard to tell who was living and who wasn’t but this time, there was no mistake.

“Aneto, I wonder why this lady isn’t afraid to be out and about. Maybe things are settling down in the spirit community.”

As they approached the apparition, the head appeared under its arm. “You can see me,” the woman said as Lu drew abreast.

It was weird to see a head talking under someone’s arm. “I can see you. I’m Lula Mae. May I ask your name and what happened to you?”

“I’m Sarah Wharton. We cannot worry about me now. There is a woman in distress over behind that house.” She pointed to an unpaved drive between two buildings. “Back there. I am unable to attract anyone’s attention to help her.”

Lu, full of trepidation, followed behind as Sarah led the way, silk skirts swishing.

Sure enough, just as she expected, there was a dead woman with her head detached from her body. Why me? It’s always me. And Detective Morgan is in the area. He’ll be the one they call. Great. Just great. Why didn’t someone else happen upon this?

She knew why. The house looked deserted and the one next to it was decorated for Christmas but all the lights were off. Perhaps gone to visit family for the holiday. No one would have been in this area but for Sarah coming to fetch Lu.

Lu went to pull her phone from her pocket to call the police station but remembered she’d left it at home. Turned off.

“Sarah, I’ll have to go find a way to call someone to come and take care of her. Are you all right?”

The spirit burst into tears. “No. I am not. It did not happen exactly like my own murder but only because there were no pirates and this lady’s father was not with her or shot.”

“Wait. Pirates?”

“Oh yes. My father and I were attacked by pirates. They shot him.”

“That’s horrible. I’m so sorry. They then killed you?”

“They did but I fought them. Gouged out an eye or two with my ring.” She held her hand out. There was a massive aquamarine on her ring finger. “They took it from my body but I got it back.”

Lu didn’t want to ask about that at all. Eye matter on a ring sounded awful. As did gouging them out of a person. But she guessed when someone was attacked, they fought with everything they had. Including fine jewelry. And pirates. Pirates were really here in town. That ship was probably real at one time.

This the last week of December, 2023, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt End.
I’m still in my story I started for NaNoWriMo. It’s slower going with all the year end stuff I’m doing at the day job,.

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“You’ll let me know if you learn anything, won’t you? We’d like to find that person as soon as possible. We’re worried there may be more attacks,” Lu said.

“I’ll be sure to let you know, but I don’t see much. As you know, I try to stay close here to my house. I can’t let that jerk of a husband who killed me get his hands on it.” She pointed to the house behind her. “I don’t go far from here. Ever vigilant.”

Lu hated to tell her that her husband had undoubtedly been deceased for quite a number of years. They’d had this conversation before and she was sure they’d have it again. Many times.

“I have to go now. I have to take my dog home and get ready for work.”

“All right. I shall see you again next time you walk by. It was lucky I saw you there with your handsome man. We’re all desperate for news.”

“I’m just as eager for news as you. I’ll be sure to be back as soon as I have some to share.”

“Thank you. You are a kind soul.”

Taking that as a great compliment since the Gray Lady should know, Lu walked on with Aneto.

When she got to her house, she decided to go around to the back door to see if George Barkley was around at his property. She wanted to ask him if he had any insight on what had happened up at the church.

She let Aneto off his leash in her small backyard so he could romp a few minutes before she had to leave for work.

Walking down to the end of the street to the fence facing the bay, she called out softly, “Mr. Barkley. Are you around?”

There was no answer. He could be in the water or he could still be resting in his actual plot in the cemetery.

As she turned to stroll back to her home, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something that caused her to turn back swiftly. “What the heck is that?”

Lu squinted toward the bay. “Is that a pirate ship?”

This week, the authors of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt, cream. I fudged a little and used creamy. I thought about having her wear a cream-colored shirt, or adding whipped cream but nah, I am going to be a rebel this week before Christmas. 🙂

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She turned to face him where he stood in the doorway leading to the kitchen. “I thought you left. You disappeared when I came in the house.”

“I was here. In case you needed me in your sadness over the detective. I was merely doing as you people in your time say.”

“And what is it we say?”

He held his hands up to each side and lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I believe it is called ‘giving you your space’.”

She had to laugh. He really was something. Picking up jargon over the years and learning how to use it. “I appreciate that but I don’t want to wallow in sadness. I think I’ll have some hot cocoa and then put all those layers back on and head to Ever’man’s and get something to cook for my Christmas Day meal. Now that I won’t be going to Malcolm’s and it’s pretty much too late to travel to my sister’s place, I’ll need to cook for myself.”

“That is a shame, Lula Mae. It is with great sorrow that I cannot ask you to the Hermitage to share a meal with Rachel and me.”

“I appreciate the invitation anyway.” She waved her hand to the side. “I hate to ask you to move, but I need access to the kitchen for the cocoa.”

He stepped aside with a flourish. “After you, madam.”

Aneto followed her. She wasn’t sure if he was coming along to help comfort her in her agitated state or if he thought he might get a treat. Doesn’t matter. Both work.

Before she started the pot of milk, she reached into the treat jar and gave Aneto a bacon-flavored snack.

Jackson indicated the pot on the stove with a tilt of his head. “Making it over the fire is the proper way. I have actually seen some put it in that box everyone seems to have on their counters and pouring water in a mix of some sort. Water.” He shuddered. “I cannot even imagine now that might taste.”

“Trust me. It’s not good. If you’re going to have hot chocolate, you need it to be creamy and thick.”

“Agreed. Ladies in my day loved their chocolate pots in the morning before rising. My Rachel was positively adamant she got hers each day.”

Lu didn’t want to think about how Rachel may have been about her chocolate served in bed. She had no idea how the woman might have treated her slaves, but she didn’t want to dwell on what ‘positively adamant’ might mean if she didn’t have it served properly. The only way she could keep her friendship with Jackson was not to dwell on the history of his era but to focus on how he behaved now. To her.

It’s Tuesday Tales day again. This week, we are writing to the word prompt, meet. I am still working on my story where the heroine can speak with spirits.

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Seated beside the bed, leaning forward, Lu held the railing with her left hand. “I wanted to see how you are but I also wanted to ask you a couple of questions about the incident.”

“I’ve already talked to a bunch of psychiatrists or psychologists or somethings.” He tapped his temple. “Head doctors, you know.”

“I’m not here to discuss your mental state—well, not in that way.”

His eyes widened. “You’re not a cop, are you?”

“No. No. I’m a nurse.” She held her hand up at the look in his face. “Not here to treat you in any way. Here to ask some questions that may sound a little weird to you.”

“Lady, you have zero idea about weird. I’ve had me some weird lately.”  He shook his head. “By the way, I’m Rob.”

“Nice to meet you, Rob.” She smiled. “And under better circumstances than last time.”

“For sure.” He indicated the IV. “I’m ready to pull this out and go home. Start living again.”

“That’s very good news. Do you mind if I ask you some questions about what led you down to the waterfront that day?”

“I’m afraid you won’t believe me. It’s bizarre.”

“Like you said earlier, if you’ve had weird lately, I’ve had bizarre lately. I think you’ll find I do believe you. I’ll believe anything you have to say. Trust me on that.”

Rob tilted his head and stared at Lu with a frown. “I don’t know. You tell me something bizarre first and then I’ll see what I can share.”

She sat back. “Fair enough.” Thinking for a second, she took a deep breath. No harm in telling him since they needed mutual trust. “I wasn’t out jogging and I wasn’t coming home late from a night out. I was sound asleep in bed when I was woken to come and save you.”

His eyes widened. “Wakened by what? Are you telling me you’re some kind of psychic?”

Lu had been going to tell him about the spirit of George Barkley but this would be better. No need in telling him the whole story. Her secret about seeing spirits would remain that—a secret.

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

He grinned and ran his hand through his hair. “Cool. That’s cool.” He checked the charge on his phone by picking it up and looking at the screen. “So, you’re just sleeping away and then get this vibe that there’s a dude drowning? It wakes you up? And then you race to the rescue?”

“That pretty much sums it up.”