If Catfish Had Nine Lives(114)

            But before she could finish, the world shifted. It was as if the light dimmed a little and we were all suddenly inside a walled-in cave.

            “What’s going on?” Vivienne said.

            “I don’t know,” Orly said.

            “Uh-oh.” I looked at Gram and then at Jake. “You seeing this?”

            “Yes,” Jake said. “Totally.”

            Not only did the sights transform, but so did the smells. Suddenly, we were in something like a real station, one from olden times, but without distinct walls, and so were a couple horses—seemingly real horses. The scents that went along with horses, their feed, and their riders were all around us.

            “Miz, what’s going on?” Orly asked.

            “Everyone will be fine,” Gram said. “Just hang on. We’re about to see a show, I think.”

            Gram and I had both experienced something similar with the old bakery, but the other living souls in the room had probably never seen a real ghost or been part of a real ghostly experience. Jake was clearly interested, but his concern for Esther took priority. Esther was having a hard time remaining conscious, and though she was a small woman, was becoming heavier and heavier for Vivienne. Vivienne was just as perplexed as Orly and wasn’t sure where to aim the gun or what to do with the body she was trying to keep hold of. I sidled my way that direction with the hope that I might be able to get either Esther or the gun away from her—or both. Jerome stayed close by my side.

            A loud rumble preceded the arrival of who I hoped was our last ghost of the day.

            “I’ll be jiggered,” Astin Reagal said as he pulled his horse to a strong-reined halt on the open side of the station. The space had become bigger than it would have been in reality and the walls had all but disappeared into a muddy murkiness. He looked behind himself at some of the murkiness and laughed, and then looked at us.

            “Hello,” he said with a blink. “Where’s my man? Where’s the next rider?”

            “Astin,” Joe said as he got off his horse and walked to Astin’s side. “I’m here. I’m here, Astin.” Joe turned to me. “You have a letter, I presume.” At first, I had no idea what Joe was talking about, but then I realized that he meant the one I’d put in my pocket. I nodded. “Read it. Now.”

            I pulled it out. It was in terrible condition, but I carefully opened the flap and reached inside for the small piece of paper.

            I looked around at the confused and concerned faces in the station. I wanted to get this over with, but I saw no shortcuts. I was going to have to read the letter.

            “My dearest Josey. If you find this, I’m sure I will have passed to the great beyond. I fell off the horse, sweetheart. I took a shortcut and somehow the horse’s legs got caught in some bramble and I went down, and broke both my legs. The horse ran off. I’m sure to die if no one finds me soon, and I don’t see that many people will travel this way. I love you and our dear son. I’m sorry to leave you. Astin.”

            Sure to die. They were the few legible words from Joe’s last letter. This must somehow be the same letter.

            I looked up to see Joe removing his hat. His—no, her long black hair cascaded down her back. Her grimy face became distinctly ungrimy and very pretty—that’s what I’d been seeing, a watery version of the beginnings of that transformation.

            “I searched for you, my love,” she said as she looked up at Astin. “I searched for so very long.”

            “Oh, Josey, I’m so, so sorry.”

            “No need to be. I found you now.” Josey looked at Gram. “I couldn’t tell you. It was . . . well, I don’t know why, but I think it was some sort of punishment for abandoning my remaining family, but I just couldn’t say the words. I couldn’t admit to who I was until I did what I’d set out to do. My name is Amelia Josephine. Astin always called me Josey or Joe. I hope you understand.”