― Ursula K. Le Guin
After talking to Poppy’s neighbour, Gail and I felt unsttled. He told us the story of the drowning that took place just behind the house, in the ‘haunted’ ravine.
No wonder we felt spooked by that place.
”Oh my God, Laird!" Gail was frantic, "there's a grave on the property, not to mention it being cursed as well. What are we going to tell Poppy?"
"Nothing, for the moment, at least. We have to find out more details. No need to worry her in the meantime."
"Do you think she's in any danger?"
Gail's features were the very painting of concern―her face pale and eyes huge and dark with fright.
Sympathy becomes her, I thought, and had to put aside my desire to hug her because that would complicate my emotions.
I needed to be as calm and detached as I could or I'd be no help to either woman at all.
We were climbing back out of the ravine and I had to admit I was glad to be free of the gully and its depressing atmosphere.
"We don't need to check out the basement," I told Gail, "there's obviously a tributary from the dried up river that runs beneath it and becomes swollen after a storm."
"Do you think that's a doorway for this spirit to enter the house?"
I shrugged. "It's a possibility but I need more details about the original house and its occupants before I can even hazard a guess."
As we walked back toward the house I saw thunderheads building in the west. Gail saw them too and they seemed to deepen the lines of concern that darkened her face.
“A storm front’s moving in," I told her, " but don’t worry. We’ll stay with Poppy until it blows over.”
“Thanks, Laird.” Gail smiled, squeezing my arm, “I know Poppy will appreciate the company.”
“It’s not a great hardship,” I smiled back, and the slight flush in her cheek told me she grasped my meaning.
Back in the house, Poppy and Greg were now sitting in the front room chatting amiably but already a lamp was lit.
“A storm’s coming in,” I said as we entered, “I think we should avoid driving and stay here until it passes.”
“I’d love the company,” Poppy said brightly. “I baked muffins and there’s lots of hot coffee.”
“Then we’ll have a party,” Gail laughed.
As the girls busied themselves in the kitchen, Greg peered out the window, marvelling at the sudden downpour of rain.
The wind picked up and we were amazed to hear the pelting of hail as it drummed on the roof and bounced off the windshield and hood of my SUV parked outside.
My thoughts turned to the dark stain in the basement and I wondered how long it would take before it began to dampen and spread.
At that moment there was a great crash of thunder and the power went out.
"Not to worry," Poppy called out. "The coffee's made and we have lots of candles."
"I can light a fire too," Greg called, "it'll take the chill off the room."
I had noticed a cold draft and thought it caused by the dampness and the wind outside, but Greg was right―a fire would help to cheer everyone's spirits.
I couldn't imagine Poppy being stranded in this storm with lights out having to endure the isolation and gloom.
The dreary prospect convinced me we needed to figure out what was oppressing her.
As I confessed earlier, I was not an exorcist, but at this moment, I wished I were.