Jillian Chantal

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt Water. I’m still sharing from my paranormal story.

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“I thought the entity was restricted to the place it chose to manifest. The old funeral home.”

“It should be. The problem now is the gases that escaped when he had the confrontation with Bernardo. That ice rain was part of it as well as the smoke. You should go and bathe as some of the rain is still on you and in your hair. We do not know what harm it may cause.” As she opened her mouth to respond, he held his hand up to stop her from talking. “Maybe none. We do not know so do not ask me.”

“All right. I’ll do that. I need a hot shower anyway. Maybe it’ll make me less cold. I can’t seem to shake the chill in my bones.”

“I will leave you to it then. I will return later once I have information from Marie.”

“Sounds good. Hopefully soon and hopefully good news.”

As soon as Jackson disappeared, Lu stood and tossed the blanket back on the sofa. “I’m going to take his advice and see if I can get warm.”

She headed to the shower and stood under the hot water for a long time, letting it comfort her. Eventually she stopped shivering and dried off.

Back on the couch, in her flannel pajamas, she wrapped herself in two blankets. “I’m finally almost warm, Aneto. I hope you are as well.”

In a moment, she flipped on the television. A newscaster stood in front of Christ Church. The broadcast had clearly already been in progress as she caught the woman in the middle of a sentence. “…And no one can explain the sudden deluge of cold rain.  The presence of a plume of dark smoke with no evidence of a fire other than a strong smell in the air caused scientists to question what phenomenon could be in play. There are no answers at the moment and law enforcement are requesting that people steer clear of the whole area until more information is available. It is unknown whether breathing in those fumes is hazardous. For now, this is Stacy Fleming. We’ll be back with updates as the situation develops.”

Lu tossed the remote to the sofa cushion beside her. “Looks like the spirit world is invading the living world, Aneto. Too bad it’s seeping over into where the average person may become frightened.”

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?”