Read Online The Witch is Dead by Shirley Damsgaard - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shirley Damsgaard
Tags: Horror & Ghost Stories
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steps. I had to make her understand. I couldn’t let guilt crush her as it had me for so many years.
I settled Tink in the chair beside my desk and picked up a blue lace agate for wisdom and communication, hoping it would help me find the right words.
Tink watched me with confusion and fear written on her face. Her violet eyes begged me to get to the point.
“Mr. Buchanan was murdered,” I said quietly.
“But—but—” she stuttered.
“Georgia stopped by the library today and told us.” I ignored the shocked look on Tink’s face.
“Message…they were trying to give me a message.” With a sob, Tink raced out of the room.
I ran after her and finally found her outside, underneath one of the trees ringing our backyard. T.P. lay cuddled on her lap. Lady and Queenie sat protectively on each side, like guardians. Picking up Queenie, I slid down next to Tink, our shoulders touching, and for a moment neither one of us spoke.
“It’s not your fault,” I said at last.
“You don’t know that,” she said with a sniff.
T.P., hearing the sad note in her voice, licked her hand as if to comfort her.
“Okay, Tink, let’s suppose you were receiving a message.” I glanced at her. “I’m not saying you were,” I stressed. “But we’ll go with the idea that’s the case. What would you have done?”
“Walked up to him and told him.”
“You would’ve walked up to a complete stranger and told him he was about to die a terrible death?”
“Yes,” she said in a small voice while her hand scratched the puppy’s ears.
“And if you had, what would his reaction have been?”
“He would’ve thought I was crazy.”
“Right…” My voice trailed away. “And as a result, he wouldn’t have heeded your warning.” I picked up a twig and rolled it around in my hand. “How many tragedies do you think Abby’s seen but been unable to stop, for whatever reason, in her seventy-plus years?”
Tink cuddled T.P. to her chest and rubbed her chin on his head. “A lot.”
“Right again.” I broke the twig in two and cast it on the ground. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned—there are some things we can’t change, no matter how much we want to.”
Tink stared off at the woods in the distance. “We should be able to use our gift. We should be able to change the outcome. It’s not right when we can’t.”
“I agree, but you have to accept the reality of it. Or you can let it destroy you.”
“You learned this because of what happened to Brian?”
“Yes,” I said in an even tone.
A tear slid down her cheek. “How can you shrug off failure?”
“You can’t, and I wouldn’t want you to. A person wouldhave to have a cold, hard heart to do that. And we both know that’s not you.”
“So what do I do?”
Reaching over, I took her chin and turned her face until she faced me. “You mourn, and then you let it go. You have faith that next time, youwill make a difference.” I tucked a strand behind her ear. “If you don’t, sweetie, your talent will drive you insane.”
Tink dropped her gaze. “I don’t want to wind up crazy like Juliet.”
I gathered her in a tight hug, squeezing the poor puppy between us.
He yelped and scampered off Tink’s lap.
“Oh sweetie, you could never be like Juliet. She was bad to begin with, and the evil inside her drove her over the edge.” I leaned back so I could see her face. “You do have to believe that what happened to Mr. Buchanan was for a reason.” I caressed her cheek. “Abby and I share in this, too. Neither one of us sensed anything wrong.”
Her brow gathered in a frown. “I wonder why?”
“I don’t know.” I gave her a determined smile. “But I intend to find out.”
Eight
The light on the base of the cordless phone glowed bright as I poured my third cup of coffee that evening. And its glow gave me a strange sense of peace. It meant Tink was at least talking to her best friend, Nell.
Dinner
I settled Tink in the chair beside my desk and picked up a blue lace agate for wisdom and communication, hoping it would help me find the right words.
Tink watched me with confusion and fear written on her face. Her violet eyes begged me to get to the point.
“Mr. Buchanan was murdered,” I said quietly.
“But—but—” she stuttered.
“Georgia stopped by the library today and told us.” I ignored the shocked look on Tink’s face.
“Message…they were trying to give me a message.” With a sob, Tink raced out of the room.
I ran after her and finally found her outside, underneath one of the trees ringing our backyard. T.P. lay cuddled on her lap. Lady and Queenie sat protectively on each side, like guardians. Picking up Queenie, I slid down next to Tink, our shoulders touching, and for a moment neither one of us spoke.
“It’s not your fault,” I said at last.
“You don’t know that,” she said with a sniff.
T.P., hearing the sad note in her voice, licked her hand as if to comfort her.
“Okay, Tink, let’s suppose you were receiving a message.” I glanced at her. “I’m not saying you were,” I stressed. “But we’ll go with the idea that’s the case. What would you have done?”
“Walked up to him and told him.”
“You would’ve walked up to a complete stranger and told him he was about to die a terrible death?”
“Yes,” she said in a small voice while her hand scratched the puppy’s ears.
“And if you had, what would his reaction have been?”
“He would’ve thought I was crazy.”
“Right…” My voice trailed away. “And as a result, he wouldn’t have heeded your warning.” I picked up a twig and rolled it around in my hand. “How many tragedies do you think Abby’s seen but been unable to stop, for whatever reason, in her seventy-plus years?”
Tink cuddled T.P. to her chest and rubbed her chin on his head. “A lot.”
“Right again.” I broke the twig in two and cast it on the ground. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned—there are some things we can’t change, no matter how much we want to.”
Tink stared off at the woods in the distance. “We should be able to use our gift. We should be able to change the outcome. It’s not right when we can’t.”
“I agree, but you have to accept the reality of it. Or you can let it destroy you.”
“You learned this because of what happened to Brian?”
“Yes,” I said in an even tone.
A tear slid down her cheek. “How can you shrug off failure?”
“You can’t, and I wouldn’t want you to. A person wouldhave to have a cold, hard heart to do that. And we both know that’s not you.”
“So what do I do?”
Reaching over, I took her chin and turned her face until she faced me. “You mourn, and then you let it go. You have faith that next time, youwill make a difference.” I tucked a strand behind her ear. “If you don’t, sweetie, your talent will drive you insane.”
Tink dropped her gaze. “I don’t want to wind up crazy like Juliet.”
I gathered her in a tight hug, squeezing the poor puppy between us.
He yelped and scampered off Tink’s lap.
“Oh sweetie, you could never be like Juliet. She was bad to begin with, and the evil inside her drove her over the edge.” I leaned back so I could see her face. “You do have to believe that what happened to Mr. Buchanan was for a reason.” I caressed her cheek. “Abby and I share in this, too. Neither one of us sensed anything wrong.”
Her brow gathered in a frown. “I wonder why?”
“I don’t know.” I gave her a determined smile. “But I intend to find out.”
Eight
The light on the base of the cordless phone glowed bright as I poured my third cup of coffee that evening. And its glow gave me a strange sense of peace. It meant Tink was at least talking to her best friend, Nell.
Dinner
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