Soulmates Read online

  Chapter Two

  “It’s not really a ghost story per sé. It’s more like a legend that actually happened right here on this very land,” Presley said, lowering her voice and raising her eyebrows slightly.

  “Everyone sit down!! This is so great. Is everyone ready? Okay, Presley, go . . . tell it . . . seriously I’m ready!” Samantha rambled excitedly.

  “Okay, Sam, calm down,” Presley giggled. Tyler and Ryan rolled their eyes as they reluctantly sat beside the girls.

  “My grandmother told me this story when I was young, probably to keep me close to the house and not wander off too far. She swore to me that it was true and I never knew my grandma to lie,” she began.

  “Okay,” Samantha said growing impatient, “get on with the story."

  “Alright,” laughed Presley. “Back in 1954 there was a family who lived about a half mile down the road from this barn. They were the closest neighbors that my grandparents had. My grandmother went to their house once in a while to visit and have iced tea with the mother, until this tragic day. Sorry, I don’t remember the mom’s name but the daughter’s name was Paulette . . . Paulette Shepard. I believe she was fifteen years old at the time. Anyway, one day Paulette’s mother was hanging clothes out on the line and her older brother had run to town to pick up some parts for their dad’s old truck.

  “Paulette had just finished her chores, you know, washing the dishes, feeding the animals, wringing out clothes for her mom to hang. Anyway, it was a beautiful May day, much like today, and she decided to take a short walk. She told her mom she would be back to help get lunch on, saying she wouldn’t be more than a half hour or so. Her mother watched Paulette as she strolled down the dirt path, humming a tune and admiring the newly bloomed spring flowers. As she leaned down to pick one she turned ever so slightly and gave her mom a big smile. Her mom watched her as she walked around the bend and out of sight. That was the last time her mother ever saw her and that vision was forever burned into her memory.

  “Paulette’s brother returned home just in time for lunch and Paulette was still gone. Her mother’s anger quickly turned into anguish when it began to get later in the afternoon. She sent Paulette’s brother out to look for her to no avail. Paulette’s father returned home from work that evening and desperately organized a small search team, including my grandparents. The team had searched half the night and my grandmother tried to comfort Paulette’s mother the best that she could. Paulette’s mother was absolutely distraught and spent most of that night crying uncontrollably.

  “They never did find Paulette. It was like she fell off the face of the Earth. There were no clues, no body, and no evidence. It was as if she was home one day and then she just . . . vanished."

  “That’s it?” whispered Samantha. “So, why didn’t they keep searching? They just gave up?” she asked.

  “Times were really different back then,” Ryan replied with a condescending tone.

  “They didn’t have twenty-four hour news coverage and resources like the internet like we do today. Tyler was visibly irritated by this point. He was becoming increasingly bored with this immature anecdote and had envisioned the night significantly different from what it had been thus far. Presley saw lightning off in the distance and a huge crack of thunder shortly followed. Presley’s muscles began to tense up. She continued the story to get her mind off of the storm.

  “Not only were the times different, but Paulette’s family was African- American. The story didn’t receive any national press and little local attention. Most speculated it was a white supremacy hate group that had been tormenting the family for years. They burned crosses in their yard and hung nooses in their trees, not to mention racial slurs and emotional anguish they caused the Shepard family. It was also a possibility that she could have encountered a transient passing through the area, maybe a serial killer. The possibilities are endless.”

  “They never found her body?” Tyler asked, becoming more engaged in the story.

  “No. That’s what makes the story so strange,” answered Presley. Suddenly the rain began to come down, starting with just a few drops, then quickly turning into a fully fledged thunderstorm.

  “My hair is getting wet. Let’s go!” Samantha screamed as she shielded her hair with her hands. The barn didn’t have much of a roof anymore. The rain came pouring in, causing most of the candles to burn out.

  “This is just great!” Tyler yelled in disgust as he picked up the wine and glasses. They all stumbled through the dark back to Ryan’s truck.

  “Where’s Tyler?” Presley asked once she was inside the truck. Then she realized that Tyler was speaking to Ryan out in the rain. Tyler ran around the front of the truck and jumped in beside Presley.

  “Man, I got drenched,” he said.

  “What were you saying to Ryan?” Presley asked.

  “I’ll tell you later. Let’s go back to your house,” he smiled as he stretched his arm around the small of her back.

  “Okay,” Presley said, confused by the strong guarded feeling that had suddenly come over her.

  Ryan pulled into Presley’s driveway.

  “Hey guys, I think Samantha and I are gonna road trip for a while. We’ll be back later,” Ryan winked.

  “Alright, bye,” Tyler said while he tried to shield Presley from the rain as they ran from the truck into her house.

  “Tyler, did you ask Ryan to leave?” she asked, trying to figure out Tyler’s secretive motives.

  “Yeah, I thought it would be nice to be alone tonight,” he admitted.

  “Okay,” she said slowly. She was glad he wanted to be alone with her, but yet an unsettling feeling came over her.

  “Sure you don’t want a glass of wine?” he pressed.

  “I’m sure,” she sternly replied.

  “Pres, I need to dry my shirt,” he said, as he quickly stripped it off, rolled it up, and handed it her.

  “Yeah. Sure. No problem. It shouldn’t take long to dry.” Presley took the shirt to the laundry room. After putting it in the dryer, she turned around to find Tyler standing in the doorway.

  “Oh! You scared me!” Presley screamed.

  “Presley, come back in the living room,” he said in a sultry tone.

  As they entered the living room, Presley noticed three lit candles on the coffee table. They sat on the couch and Tyler pulled Presley close and kissed her. She instantly thought about what Mary Carlson said to her after school. She didn’t want to seem like a crazy, jealous girlfriend, but she was curious as to where she stood in their relationship. She pulled away from Tyler. Her longing for him succumbed to the feelings of distrust for him.

  “Tyler, I talked to Mary Carlson today after school,” she finally blurted.

  Tyler looked shocked. He tilted his head to the side and looked down.

  “Why were you talking to Mary? You aren’t friends. I didn’t think you two even liked each other."

  “Oh, no, we don’t like each other. Or should I say she doesn’t really like me, for some unknown reason. Anyway, she did most of the talking. She just told me that you were with her last night. But that can’t be true because you told me you were home studying all night. Right?” she asked, unsure if she really wanted to know the truth.

  Tyler instantly became defensive and then angry. That was his method of operation. He was genius at deflecting his faults and a master at turning the situation completely around and making Presley think she was going crazy.

  “Here we go again. I’m getting so sick of all these accusations!” he yelled.

  “I know I ask you a lot of questions, but why would Mary say - ”

  “A lot of questions, Presley? You’re obsessive! You are constantly smothering me. You think that if I’m not with you every
day, or calling, or texting every hour, then I’m with someone else or doing something I’m not supposed to be doing. It’s exhausting, Presley. You exhaust me!”

  “I’m sorry Tyler. I want to trust you." She apologized automatically without even thinking about it.

  “You should trust me. I’ve never done anything for you not to trust me. Presley, I think that you have abandonment issues that you need to get over, and quit fixating on me so much. Go to counseling or something. You need help from a professional,” he sneered at her hatefully.

  She was visibly taken back by his disrespectful comment. Not only had she felt abandoned by her father, but also by her mother.

  If I don’t shut up right now Tyler will probably end up leaving me too, she thought to herself, feeling physically sick to her stomach. What would I do if he broke up with me? She began regretting even mentioning Mary. Even though Presley and Tyler had only been dating for six months, she truly felt as if she couldn’t live without him.

  “Ah . . . forget it . . . really,” Presley said softly, trying desperately to recant her earlier statement. “I don’t know what my problem is . . . I’m sorry,” she said in a whisper. Presley looked at Tyler hoping that he would accept her apology and that they could change the conversation.

  “That’s okay, babe. You know that I love you, right? I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.” Tyler said relieved. “There’s nobody else I want. Only you,” Tyler kissed Presley as his hands began to wander, making Presley increasingly more uncomfortable by the second. She tried to pull away from him but he kept pulling her back. Soon he was on top of her and things were moving way too fast for Presley.

  She finally whispered, “No, I really don’t feel comfortable with this." Tyler didn’t stop. “No!” she repeated louder this time. Still, he didn’t stop. She put both of her hands on his naked chest, and shoved him off of her yelling, “NO!!”

  Startled, Tyler shouted, “Presley, what is your problem?”

  “I’ve told you before I’m not ready for all of this,” she said again.

  “Oh, Presley, come on. This has to be a joke,” he sarcastically laughed.

  “No,” she said confidently, “this not a joke. I’m not ready, and if you don’t understand that then . . . ,” she hesitated as she tried to find the words to finish her sentence.

  “Then . . . what?” he said arrogantly.

  “Never mind. Can’t we just talk?” she asked quietly.

  “Talk?” Tyler began acting almost crazy. “Presley, I’m tired of talking. You’re sixteen and we’ve been dating for five months, and you want to talk?” he shook his head.

  “Six. We’ve been together for six months,” she corrected him.

  “Okay, whatever. Six months, and you still aren’t ready? When will you be ready? What does that even mean- ready?’” He threw his hands in the air, discouraged which made her even more self- conscious.

  “It means that I want it to be special and not rushed, and I don’t know if I can handle it emotionally. It’s a huge step and once I take it, I can’t go back,” Presley said, trying to convince him that she was right and at the same time hoping that he would agree.

  “Well, you know there are plenty of girls that would love to be with me. I can think of a few girls right now that would be plenty ready,” he replied in a haughty tone.

  “What are you saying?” Presley said in a concerned voice.

  “I’m saying that there are girls that are ‘ready’ now, like Mary Carlson." Tyler said with a conceited grin. Presley gasped, feeling as if he had punched her in the stomach. Presley looked up at Tyler. She couldn’t believe what he was saying.

  “So, there have been other girls?” Presley asked.

  “You're so naive, Presley." Gradually his tone changed from anger to being extremely calm and composed. “I love you. I do. You have a lot of great qualities. I love that you aren’t like all the other girls in school. You are different. I like the fact that you are your own person and you are talented. You are so passionate about your music and your writing and I really admire all of that." Presley was confused by his drastic change of character. She couldn’t understand how he could admit to dating other girls, and then have the audacity to profess his love for her.

  “You don’t love me, Tyler,” Presley said quietly.

  “I don’t?” he smirked.

  “No,” she continued sadly, “I’m pretty sure that love isn’t supposed to hurt, and all you have done for the past six months is hurt me. Whether it be breaking our dates or just plain standing me up, do you know how many nights I’ve waited right here at this window? Do you know how many nights I’ve waited and hoped to see your car lights come down the road?” She pointed to the small bay window which faced the front of the house. “I would fall asleep on the couch, waiting for you, only to wake there in the early morning hours alone, and still no Tyler, not even a call! And then I would accept your dumb excuses of where you were - your lame excuses. You know what, Tyler? I think that you’re a lame excuse of a boyfriend. You’re just a self-centered boy. I’ve graciously overlooked your flaws- hoping you would change. I’m seeing now that you won’t."

  “This isn’t going to work,” he chuckled arrogantly.

  “That’s right. This isn’t going to work and it hasn’t been working. I guess the only way this would work is if I were okay with you having other girlfriends,” she said calmly as tears fell from her face. Tyler looked at Presley with a half smile, but didn’t speak. “You would just love that wouldn’t you, Tyler? The bottom line is that you are not the person I wanted you to be, and you never were. And you have been cheating on me all along. Just tell me this Tyler, if you wanted to date other girls, then why didn’t you just break up with me?”

  “Presley, I think you are a little too overbearing in this relationship. If you want to call it cheating then - okay. I have dated a few girls while I was seeing you,” he said nonchalantly.

  “Tyler! That’s called cheating! Let me get this straight. For months I’ve been asking you about various rumors, all of which you’ve denied. How many of your friends knew? I feel like such a fool. You have led me to believe that I had a problem, that I was crazy! What did you just say? Oh, yes, that I had ‘abandonment issues.’ You are so egotistical. Just get out of my house,” she said with disgust. Presley went back to the laundry room and took Tyler’s damp shirt out of the dryer and threw it at him. “Leave now,” she said louder and more assertive this time.

  “Pres, just listen . . . hear me out,” he begged.

  “Why?” Presley said angrily. “Everything that comes out of your mouth is a lie!” As she yelled at him he walked backward toward the door.

  “Presley, I know that you’re mad right now. But I would like the chance to explain,” he said.

  “You just said it was over, that this wasn’t going to work, and now you want to ‘explain’ yourself. And I am the one who’s crazy? Anyone would go crazy trying to figure you out. I want off of this rollercoaster. Tell Mary that she can have you. Get out!” she screamed.

  Tyler stood still, waiting for Presley to change her mind like she had in all their other fights. She didn’t budge this time. At least not yet anyway. Tyler walked outside and Presley shut the door. She watched out of the front bay window, through the downpour of rain, as Tyler stood on the side of the gravel road for a few minutes.

  She saw him talking on his cell phone and figured he had called for a ride. A few minutes later, Ryan pulled into the gravel driveway. Tyler got in the truck and they sped down the road. After realizing that Samantha stayed with them, Presley felt very alone. She sat down on the couch and cried into a lavender throw pillow. Tyler had always confused her and she never felt they made a good couple. She had wanted them to be, but there was something missing, a feeling that she desired but he never filled.
She didn’t want to break up with Tyler, but she couldn’t understand why he lied and cheated on her. In her mind she tried desperately to figure out a way to make the situation okay. She wished he had never cheated on her. She wished that he never admitted it. She wished she never knew.

  She took her song book and guitar and went upstairs to her bedroom. She lay restlessly on her bed, listening as the rain hit the window pane, making a soft, almost sad, rhythmic sound. She rolled over countless times while thoughts of Tyler’s affairs ran rapidly through her tired mind. Frustrated, she rolled out of bed, and went over to her window. She stared at the moon and softly whispered as she reminded herself, “There’s more to life than this small town and these small people.”

  She opened her song book and finished the song she had started earlier that night. Tears flowed freely from her eyes. She cried herself to sleep.

  ≈≈≈≈≈

 

  The next morning Presley woke up and instantly her thoughts went to the night before. Thoughts of despair raced through her weary head. How could I be so stupid? There were so many red flags and I should have seen through him. He was always so secretive about where he was and what he was doing. His cell phone never left his side and he was constantly texting and checking his messages. Anytime I’d ask him who he was talking to he’d ignore me. And I foolishly allowed myself to fall in love with him. I have to get my mind off of this. I need to clear my head.

  Presley got up out of bed, still dressed in the same clothes she wore the night before. Although she could have stayed in bed all day feeling sorry for herself, she decided to go to the kitchen for a glass of juice. She heard the front door open. She peeked around the corner, and saw her mother, Lisa, stumbling toward her. She grabbed Presley’s juice from her hand.

  “I’m going to bed,” Lisa slurred. She gulped down the juice, and handed the emptied glass back to Presley.

  “Yeah, Mom, you really ought to go to bed since it is nine in the morning and I haven’t seen you in two days,” Presley rolled her eyes.

  “Don’t you get smart with me,” her mother garbled. As Lisa went to her room she tripped up the stairs and landed on her side. Presley quickly helped her mother to her feet as she had so many times before. She guided her mother up to her room, and pulled down the sheets to her mother’s bed. She closed the drapes, and gave her mom two aspirin and glass of water from the bathroom. Lisa was a horrible alcoholic. She was clean for six months about two years earlier, but a fight with a boyfriend caused her to fall off the wagon and return to the bottle.

  “Do you need anything else?” Presley asked. Lisa didn’t respond, already passed out and drooling on her dirty pillow. Presley sat on the edge of her mother’s bed and watched her for a few minutes.

  Presley whispered, “I wish you were a wonderful mom. I wish that you weren’t so selfish and I wish you weren’t a drunk," she said feeling alone. She gently rose off of the bed and walked into her bedroom and picked up her guitar. She went downstairs, opened the front door, and looked around.

  The ground was soggy from the rain the night before, which made her think about the barn and the story of Paulette. She decided to take a walk. With her guitar slung around her neck and her song book in the back pocket of her jeans, she took off down the gravel road.

  As she passed the old grain bin and windmill, a crow cackled loudly in a nearby tree, startling her. She glanced up as she momentarily recalled her strange dreams. Her thoughts returned to Tyler, and she wondered if he’d try to call her. She checked to make sure her phone was on. She knew their relationship had to be over now, even though she still wanted to be with him.

  She walked by the old dirt road that once had been used as a driveway for the Shepard family. An uneasy feeling overcame Presley as she grew increasingly more curious to see what their house had looked like. Presley had never seen the Shepards’ house in all of the years she had been on her grandparent’s farm. The Shepards’ house had been abandoned years earlier and Paulette’s parents had moved into a nursing home in town.

  “Curiosity killed the cat,” Presley mumbled as she walked down the Shepards’ driveway. As Presley walked closer to the run down old house, she noticed the delicate yellow daffodils and the beautiful purple and white irises surrounding the front porch.

  “First flowers of spring,” Presley said as she inhaled the fresh Midwest air. The hostas were newly unfolded, and the lily of the valley gave off the most amazing aroma.

  In a nostalgic moment Presley began to speak to herself, “Maybe these flowers were planted by Paulette and her mother. Even after the Shepards’ loss these flowers still remain alive and strong all of these years later.”

  Presley was an artist and she could find beauty in any setting, even the old run down house. She could almost feel the agony and sadness seeping from its every crevice. The house was white in color. Attached to the front window was the left over remnants of an old homemade window box, once used to display flowers. Now ratty and tattered, with one slight nudge it would fall apart. To her surprise, with only a little help from the slightest touch of her hand, the door seemed to open by itself. Presley was a little stunned at the creepy noise the door made, and now a slight fear came over her. She wanted to enter the house, but questioned what would happen to her if she got caught.

  “Would it be trespassing, breaking and entering, maybe jail?” she debated her punishment to herself. Finally, curiosity trumped her fears and she entered the old decrepit house.

  The living room was tiny, and empty except for a broken lamp lying on the soiled carpet. It appeared that many rodents had made this house their haven. There was a bird’s nest in the windowsill and mouse droppings throughout the room.

  Although, disgusted, Presley was also intrigued by the history of this old residence, and before she knew it she had wandered into the kitchen. There was still an old plate in the sink, as if whoever cleaned out the house for the last time had eaten something, and in the haste of moving had forgotten to pack up the plate.

  The worn, cracked, white cabinets were empty and there was an old fridge on the east wall. Presley walked over to it. She had never seen one of this model first hand, only in old movies. It was smaller than the refrigerator she was accustomed to and it had a little metal handle.

  As Presley pulled the door open she found an old glass milk jug on the top shelf. There was a small freezer inside, which lent enough room for perhaps a carton of ice cream. As Presley closed the refrigerator door a strange sensation came over her.

  The Shepard family used to eat in here, she thought, as she searched the entire kitchen with her eyes. Presley imagined Paulette’s mother finishing dinner as the kids teased and poked fun at each other, instead of setting the table. She envisioned Paulette opening the refrigerator to grab the jug of milk. As her father entered the room, the kids would have grown silent as they all sat down at the table. Except for Paulette’s mother, who was still at the stove thickening the gravy.

  Presley had always wanted a family like her vision. She often entertained the idea of having a sibling and a father. How different her life would be. Suddenly, Presley got startled by one of the house guests. A little mouse scurried across the kitchen floor and ran directly between Presley’s feet. Presley screamed and ran into one of the bedrooms, quickly shutting the door behind her.

  Presley looked around the bedroom. The room was plain white and there was a big window on the opposite wall. There was a small closet with a few wire hangers left inside. Presley reached up on the closet shelf and felt something. She picked it up and saw that it was a small brown barrette. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized she must be standing in Paulette’s bedroom. Presley had a very strange feeling, and began to panic a bit.

  “This girl that I never knew, she’s dead, and I’m standi
ng in her bedroom, holding her barrette." And with that thought she opened the door, ran back into the living room, and out the front door tripping over her guitar. She hastily picked it up from the porch and ran down the dirt road, the crow following behind her. She saw the clothesline, the one that Paulette’s mother must have been using so many years ago. Presley was walking the same road that Paulette walked that sunny May day, the day she had disappeared. The road hadn’t changed much. Just a dirt road. Now more like a mud road from the rain. If Presley stayed on the dirt path it would eventually merge into the gravel road that would take her back to her house. That is where Presley intended to go, back to her house, until she noticed a path to the right of the dirt road that she hadn’t noticed on her way to the Shepards’ house. Pausing to catch her breath, she examined the pathway more closely. This path intrigued her and she wondered where it led. She stood at the path, deliberating whether or not she should go down it or head back to her house. She reached into her pocket and felt the barrette.

  What happened to you, Paulette? Presley wondered. She took a right and started down the dirt path, possibly the same path Paulette had taken on her last day.