The Mystery of the Screaming Elms (Eden Patterson: Ghost Whisperer Book 2) Page 2

  He kissed my forehead and I snuggled in closer.

  I must have fallen asleep because suddenly Luke jumped up and I fell backward. “What is it?” I asked trying to see through the slits of my eyes.

  “Sorry Eden,” Luke whispered as he looked into the forest. “Thought I saw something. Probably just an animal.”

  The noise must have awakened the others as Syd poked her head out of the tent. “What’s going on?”

  Luke put another log on the fire. “Thought I saw something but it was nothing.”

  “You ready for the lights?” I heard Matt call out from inside the tent.

  “Yeah, go ahead and get up and let’s get to rolling,” Luke answered.

  It didn’t take long for Matt, Luke and Goog to get the few low lights set up and cameras rolling. We sat around the fire for 30 minutes waiting for something to happen, but even the forest animals had either left or went to sleep as well. Then I heard a slight rustling in the trees as the wind picked up. I looked over at Syd to see if she heard anything. While some people had heard what they thought were screams from the elm trees, it could have just been the wind making a whistling noise. I’d only be convinced if it came straight from Syd.

  I could tell she was listening as she tilted her head. I didn’t want to break her concentration, despite wanting to know if she heard anything. The wind picked up and as I looked towards to the top of the elm trees I could see the branches swaying back and forth. We all strained our ears to see if we could hear what others had heard. All of a sudden I heard the high pitch of a sound that only lasted a few seconds. I looked at Syd and she sat upright.

  “Did you hear that?” I whispered.

  “Yeah, I did,” Syd answered.

  “I didn’t hear anything but the wind,” Matt replied. “Are you sure its not just the wind through the trees.”

  “Not this,” I said, straining my ears to see if it would come again. Suddenly the noise came again…low at first, almost like a moan. Then out of nowhere it cranked up in volume to a piercing scream. Syd and I both jumped up.

  I looked at the boys. “Can’t you hear that?” I yelled so they could hear me over the screams.

  “Why are you yelling?” Luke asked as he stood up. Syd and I looked at them. They couldn’t hear it, but it was ear-splitting to Syd and me. We grabbed our flashlights to follow the sound. I could hear Luke yelling for us to wait, but I was afraid the sounds would stop. Syd was ahead of me as we through the woods, winding around the trees. Suddenly Syd stopped and looked straight up. I followed her gaze to the tops of the elm trees. A light danced across the tree tops. It had an ethereal glow, golden in its appearance. By this time the boys had caught up with us. They looked straight up and I could tell by the look on their faces they could see it too.

  “What the frick,” Matt said as he gazed up at the light. “Has to be some kind of reflection.”

  “Reflection from what Sherlock?” Syd asked as she continued to look straight up. “From our campfire? Me no think so.”

  “Syd…do you still hear the screaming?” Ever since we saw the light I no longer heard the screams.

  Syd shook her head. “No, don’t hear it.”

  “What screaming?” Luke asked. “None of us heard it, right guys?” Matt and Goog nodded.

  “Too much testosterone I guess,” Syd answered. “Only those of us with ovaries could hear it.”

  I could tell Goog was entranced by the light. “If that’s the rite of passage to hear it, I’m glad I don’t have any oberries.”

  Syd snickered although she, like the rest of us, couldn’t take our eyes off the dancing lights. And as quick as it came, the light went out.

  “Dang it,” Luke remarked. “What’s going on?”

  And then we heard a roar. Our flashlights cut this way and that through the dense darkness searching for the source. Then I saw it.

  I’ve seen them before…like mini or baby tornadoes as Grandpa Winky use to call them. It was a tiny whirlwind that had gathered dust or leaves. They were harmless and as a child I wanted to run into them but Winky taught me not to. He said it was a spirit that was confused about where to go that’s why it spun here and thro. Better to let it find it’s own footing than to cause it anymore chaos by a person running into it.

  Although the mini whirlwind was short in stature, the velocity was high. I could see dirt, leaves and even acorns within its mass. While I could normally see right through normal whirlwinds, this one was so thick with debris and turning so fast there was no way to see through it.

  “Now what?” Goog stood a little bit behind Matt as we all shone our flashlights on the churning whirlwind. Although the wind within the mini tornado was traveling at a high rate of speed, it stayed in one spot.

  “Reminds me of the Tasmanian devil,” Matt said staring at it. “Is Daffy Duck going to peak out from the bushes next?”

  I remembered what Winky told me about the strange whirlwinds being confused spirits. “Hello. Can I help you?”

  “This isn’t a drive-up window Eden,” Matt replied. “You think it wants a burger and fries?”

  Matt could be a pain sometimes. “I’m trying to speak to the spirit within it.”

  “There’s nothing in there but air. I’ll show you.”

  Before I could stop him, Matt pushed his arm through the whirlwind, dissipating it. “See, told you.” Suddenly he dropped the flashlight and held his ears. “Crap! I must have grown an ovary! Tell her to stop screaming!”

  Chapter Three

  “Well that was a hoot.” We’d all gathered back at Aunt Pearl’s place and Syd was making coffee. “I’ve never seen or heard anything like that before growing up here in the boonies.”

  Pearl had graciously allowed us to take over her living room to catch a few hours sleep. Syd and her mother Patsy took the second bedroom while the rest of us slept on the couch and lounge chairs. However, I couldn’t stop thinking about the screaming, the dancing lights, or the strange whirlwind.

  Matt rubbed his eyes. “I could still hear the screaming ringing in my ears last night.”

  “Didn’t seem human did it?” To me it sounded other worldly but I knew Matt wouldn’t agree.

  “I wouldn’t say that.” See what I mean.

  “The screaming was coming from the whirlwind Matt.” Syd sat a cup of coffee in front of him.

  Matt poured some cream into his coffee. “You can’t be sure of that. With the wind blowing and bouncing off the hollers, it could have come from anywhere.”

  “Then why is it Goog and I never heard it,” Luke asked. I knew he’d come to our defense.

  “Thank goodness,” Goog yawned. “Screaming would have plunged me over the edge. I kept waiting for the Tasmanian devil to jump out and start salivating at the sight of us.”

  “And you didn’t hear it until you put your hand into the whirlwind,” I said.

  “Coincidence.” Of course Matt. “There’s a reasonable explanation I’m sure.”

  At that moment Pearl and Patsy walked into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for all of us.

  “Mom, you and aunt Pearl don’t have to do that. We can go to town and get something to eat.”

  Pearl took a package of bacon from the fridge. “Nonsense. If you all can get rid of what’s going on up there in the holler, it’s worth more than feeding you.”

  “Actually this is a paying job,” Luke announced. “I got a call from the state land commission this morning. Seems that they’re trying to create a new highway to relieve some of the traffic off the interstate, but the construction crews are having a rough time of it. Seems their equipment won’t work and they’re being spooked, by get this, screams.”

  “They must have ovaries, or as Goog calls it, oberries.” Matt smiled as he looked at Syd and me.

  I ignored Matt. “Anything else besides the screams and non-working equipment?”

  Luke took a sip of his coffee. “Whirlwinds and smoke.”

  “Smoke…why’s that so
strange?” Syd asked. “Lots of people burn stuff around here. We just have to be careful not to start a forest fire, but most around here know that.”

  “I know what he’s talking about,” Pearl said as she turned the bacon. The smell waked my senses, allowing me to think clearer. Food smells, especially bacon, had that spell on me.

  “Have you seen it?” Patsy asked her sister as she cracked eggs into a bowl. “You never said anything.”

  “I wasn’t sure if I was seeing things or going senile.” Pearl poured herself a cup of coffee and put a drop of honey into it. “I was hanging laundry on the line a few weeks ago when a white smoke appeared not three yards in front of me. It had no source or trail, just emerged out of no where. I was transfixed by the sight of it, like it was trying to tell me something. And then it dissipated.”

  “Pearl, it could have come from anywhere,” Matt told her. “The wind can carry smoke long distances.”

  I knew Matt was right on that one.

  “But can these tiny smoke clusters appear to almost 10 men at one time and just hang in the air?” Luke asked as he buttered his toasted sour dough bread.

  “What do you mean?” Goog asked.

  “Apparently around 10 clusters of smoke appeared to about the same number of men. They hung in the air right in front of each of them.” Luke turned to Pearl. “And they all said the same thing as you Pearl…that it felt like the smoke was trying to tell them something.”

  Pearl rubbed her hands on her apron. “Thank goodness. At least it’s happened to others and I’m not losing my mind. But what does it all mean?”

  I took a bite of bacon and savored its rich texture and crunchiness. “That’s what we need to find out.”

  Chapter Four

  There’s many tales that come out of the hollers in this region of Appalachia and it’s difficult to determine fact from fiction. Many of the stories have a bit of truth to them, but peeling back the layers to get to those facts is usually a tricky endeavor. Many people have their own “truths,” stories passed down from generation to generation. Most of the parents, grandparents and great-grandparents worked the mines in these parts until coal mining ran out of steam. Others worked the moonshine stills and some still do. Even the gathering of ginseng is a way of keeping food on the table and clothes on your back. And if you try to pick some of it from someone else’s land, you might get a barrel full of buckshot for your effort, or worse.

  The history in this area was rife full of moonshine stories. One interesting gentleman by the name of Kenneth O’Reilly had a few stories he attributed to the screaming elms and the smoke.

  We were introduced to him by Pearl. He attended the same Baptist church and said he’d speak to us on Monday afternoon. He sat in old brown rocking chair on the covered porch of his bedraggled cabin. His corncob pipe stuck between his thin lips and he didn’t remove it to speak to us.

  “Have a sit,” he said as he motioned for us to sit down on the edge of the porch and steps. There were no other chairs or benches to sit on so we obliged. Pearl made the introductions, then asked him to relay some of his beliefs of the events occurring around the hills and valleys.

  Kenneth pulled the pipe from his lips and blew out a cloud of smoke. “There’s a lot of new folk around here…not many oldtimer’s like me. So many of the old tales have been buried with the dead.”

  We were entranced. His voice was gravelly but it had a storyteller’s tone. Grandpa Winky had the same inflection when he told me stories. Like how the small town would gather during the summer months and watch movies on the back of old man Peterson’s white barn. Folks would bring blankets or lawn chairs and a cooler of goodies. Sometimes the reel would stick and people would boo good naturedly. But they all had a good time.

  Or when a flash flood hit the little town and everyone pulled together with their small rowboats to snatch people from tree tops or almost submerged cars. I loved the stories about his community. Everyone knew their neighbors and looked out for them. A scenario much unlike today. But I could tell that Kenneth had lived in such a community up here in the holler and he was about to tell us some of their stories.

  “When you live in a tight knit community like ours, you look out for one another. Sure, many of the neighbors ran moonshine stills, and as a boy I even ran some of the liquid lightening across state lines. It was hard to make a living here unless you worked in the coal mines, and even then you weren’t long for this world with that kind of employment. My mother, God rest her soul, didn’t want her boys dying of lung rot from the mines like my Daddy did, so to her, moon shining wasn’t that bad.”

  He took another puff from his pipe and continued. “We had to find different passages through the hollers to get across the state line. If you used the same passage too often, the Feds would catch on. So my brothers and I would snake out various paths. This was hard work because of the thick underbrush. We’d have to take machetes and whack for miles. We’d get eat up by insects and ticks. It was hard work, but it still beat working in the mines.”

  I looked around at everyone as we listened. No one blinked or barely breathed. Some people have a way of capturing your attention and not letting go. I felt like I could listen to this old boy for hours.

  “We went into areas where no living person had probably set foot in for a hundred years or more. Maybe the Shawnee or Cherokee Indians. Anyhow, one day my brother Jeb and I crested a tall holler and down below in the valley were the remains of what must have been a tiny village. Homes, maybe 30 of them, were situated in this valley. They were made from rocks, which was odd because all of our homes were made from logs. We were curious, so instead of bypassing it, we climbed down the hill to take a peek around.”

  “It appeared as if an earthquake had toppled many of the homes as they lay in ruins, but some of the house walls remained. And this was the entire community, not just one or two homes. They all looked the same. But why hadn’t they just rebuilt? It didn’t look totally wiped out, not at all. It was a curious thing.”

  “No signs of a burial ground?” Luke asked.

  “No sir. Just this small community, lost and forgotten for hundreds of years. It spooked us somewhat. But then we heard the singing.”

  Syd straightened up. “Singing?”

  Kenneth cleared his throat and tapped the tobacco from his pipe. “Yes’m. We heard what sounded like singing, only we couldn’t make out the words. Jeb and I looked at each other. The sound wasn’t coming from around us, but above us. We looked straight up at the giant elms as their tree tops swayed back and forth. We knew the singing was coming from there. Now you’d think that would have spooked us enough to send us flying back over the hilltop. But it was soothing and it calmed our souls.”

  Syd nodded. She understood since she’d grown up hearing those same songs.

  “We sat for a while, just listening, not wanting to leave that tranquil place. It had a mystic about it. As I looked past the stone homes I could see the sun’s rays piercing through the limbs of the elm trees.”

  Kenneth looked past us towards the sun’s rays that passed through his own trees and pointed. “Look at the sun’s rays there, how bright they are. So bright you can see the dust in the air.”

  We looked at the sun’s rays passing through the leaves, and then back to Kenneth. “Imagine that glow to be 50 times brighter. That’s what it looked like in the rock cove, as Jeb and I called it. The light emanated a warmth that made you feel like you were in a cocoon, but nothing suffocating, just like a warm hug. Which was strange because down in that valley it should have been about 30 degrees at that time of year, but it felt like a perfect 72 degrees. And there were no worries, no cares, no pain. I felt like I had entered the gates of heaven and I didn’t want to leave.”

  “But you did,” Matt replied.

  Kenneth nodded. “Yes we did young man. We had no choice.”

  Suddenly the sun went behind a cloud and it became dark within the confines of the large trees. A strong wind started
to blow through the tree tops. It was like Mother Nature knew Kenneth’s story was about to take a bleak turn.

  “I don’t know how long we were there. Time didn’t seem to matter. But as the sun began to set and its rays no longer passed through the large elm trees, a darkness settled in. The feeling of security we had before was gone. The singing had stopped as well. Suddenly, out of no where, we heard what sounded like a strong wind, but it wasn’t coming from above us, it was headed towards us from around the stone homes. I could see peeks of it, a whirlwind like I’d never seen before. It went between the rock homes heading straight for us. But we didn’t move…we were mesmerized by the site of it. It came nearer and then we heard it. The screams.”