The morning passed peacefully after Ken left for work. I showered and dressed before I drove out to the house to do more research. I texted Ralph. Considering his character, it was likely he had already headed to the golf course to play a round before enjoying the rest of his day at the country club, indulging in whiskey sours.

Ralph didn’t like surprises. My primary aim revolved around discovering any information regarding the enigmatic plate-eye creature and its initial appearance in our family history.

Before I headed over, I detoured to Indulgence, my favorite bakery, for a dark espresso and sticky bun. The weather in Savannah brought about perfect conditions this time of year. I suggest people visit in May, September, or October to experience the city’s best months. Sure, we had the occasional hurricane passing through, but nothing too severe since Matthew devastated us.

With the top down on my Jeep and my curly hair pinned up, the sun’s warmth on my face comforted me. With the low humidity, it created a beautiful day for a drive. My skin held onto its summer tan from days spent on Tybee Island, and it rejoiced as it soaked up the Vitamin D my body craved. I cruised down the highway with country tunes blasting through the speakers, playing songs from artists including Blake Shelton and Post Malone. They say music was like a religion, and at that moment, I understood what they meant.

I turned onto the dirt road that led to my aunt’s farm. The massive oak trees, adorned with hanging Spanish moss, and the backdrop of a grand white plantation-style mansion, always left me in awe. This picturesque southern landscape attracted photographers from all over the world. Rosie loved it when she opened the mail, and there would be a royalty check from some magazine or publisher who used it for a book cover. She said, “The house is paying for itself.”

Uncle Jeb sat on the porch as I parked my Jeep. I grabbed my purse and jumped out. He stood up and walked over, giving me his famous one-armed hug.

“I could hear that dang music from the top of the street, and I’m deaf,” he joked with a toothless grin.

“How ya holdin’ up, girl?” His bushy eyebrows furrowed with concern, and he studied my face.

“Pretty good, all things considered,” I replied. Suddenly, an idea occurred to me. Jeb, our longest-lasting uncle, had been around longer than us. Could he provide insight on the Plate-eye?

“You got a minute? I wanted to ask you about something,” I said.

“I can spare a few for my favorite niece. What’s cookin?”

“Let’s sit here on the veranda and talk about what I’ve been working on. Do you want some tea?” I’d forgotten my bag in the Jeep with the sticky bun, and I retrieved it.

“Nah, I’m good. But I would love some of that donut you got there. That place makes the best, aside from my mama, God rest her soul.”

I split the pastry in half and put it on a napkin. “Here you go.” We savored it in silence and licked our fingers when we finished eating.

Looking out over the lush landscape, I told Uncle Jeb only a portion of what had happened. I left out the events of the seances and my travel through the abyss.

“At any point, had you encountered anything unusual on the farm during your lifetime? I asked him.

“Bless your heart, child. Ain’t nobody ever asked me, so I figured it was my imagination. Them women in our family were so darned secretive. One night, something scared me half to death; all they could tells me was to mind my own beez wax.”

“It occurred after your great-granddad passed. I was a little ‘un, seven or eight. Granddaddy always wanted me to weed the graveyard, ya know, keep the ancients lookin’ presentable. I enjoyed doing it because people left me alone inside that fence. Used to bring my reading book with me, and when I was done weedin’, hide behind his mama’s headstone where it was nice and cool and read the rest of the afternoon. I’d run to get washed up when the dinner chime rang.”

“Well, this one day, I had fallen asleep, and when I heard the bell, I jumped up and ran so’s I wouldn’t be late. I musta dropped my book and didn’t remember until my nanny tucked me into bed. Once the house got quiet, I sneaked out to grab it. It was pitch black out. You couldn’t make out any designated path ‘cept in the daylight.”

“Were you frightened?” I inquired.

“That ain’t the half of it.” He continued. “Nothing good happens in the dark. My heart pounded in my chest, but I stood my ground determined to get my book. The gate to the entrance was open, and once I stepped into the cemetery, an icy breeze rushed past me. I froze in my steps, for what I saw toward his headstone was the old man himself. My eyes blinked. I was certain it wasn’t a dream. The voice in my head was tellin’ me to run, but I was stuck, paralyzed.”

“Oh, you poor thing. I can only imagine the emotions you experienced.” Except I knew how he had felt.

Uncle Jeb continued with his story. “My mind remained convinced it was a ghost since I knew granddad was dead. But he stood by his grave in the suit we’d buried him in. I wanted to run over to him and hug him. He had treated me so well and missed him terribly. Then I noticed something different.”

I lifted my head and leaned closer, intrigued by Uncle Jeb’s tale. “What? Another thing?” I exclaimed.

He sighed deeply before he continued, “It’s hard to put into words, as I’d tried to erase it from my memory for decades. It still haunts me in my dreams, especially now I’m older and not long for this world.”

“Don’t say that, Uncle Jeb,” I said, touching his knee. “You are a cherished family member, and we all love you. Has anyone told you what a fantastic storyteller you are? You’ve got me on the edge of my seat!”

“Well, now, thank you kindly,” he replied with a grin. “Where was I?”

“You were about to tell me what else you saw besides the ghost of great granddad.”

“Yeah, right,” he nodded. “In the shadows of the large oak tree, I spotted a white face peeking behind the trunk. It had sunken black eyes, deep wrinkles, and long pencil-thin fingers with sharp, pointy fingernails. At first, I thought it was Dracula himself—I remembered reading a book about a vampire from Transylvania while sitting in that very cemetery. But I reminded myself it was only fiction. The more I gazed at it, the more its appearance transformed. My mind flashed back to stories I had read about changelings.”

“A changeling? But that’s a myth from Irish folklore, isn’t it? A fairy steals a human child and replaces it with one of their own kind. Could you be thinking of a plate-eye?”

“Look, I was frightened. All I can do is tell you what crossed through my head.”

“I’m sorry for interrupting again. It’s a bad habit of mine. Please continue.”

Uncle Jeb took out a rolled cigarette and lit it. “Do you mind if I smoke?” He asked, gesturing toward me.

“No, go right ahead,” I replied with a wave of my hand.

“I sensed it in my gut. Something evil was using Granddad’s image to trick me. All I longed for was my dang book, but I had to pass by both of them. As a small kid, I had no hope against them, so I hightailed it back to the house. I wanted to share it with someone the following morning, but I’d get a whippin’ for being out so late at night.”

“So, you kept it a secret?”

“I didn’t tell anyone until the next full moon. You’re familiar with how the women in this clan behaved differently in private than in public. It became evident at Aunt Rosie’s funeral. Whether you’re aware of it, young lady, these gatherings had been goin’ on for as long as our ancestors have owned this land. They held these ritual drum circles in every lunar cycle in the east field. Liz’s family had been a part of them for a long time, too. Her mama would bring little Liz with her from time to time.”

“Her intuition indicated something had me preoccupied. That evening, she pulled me aside and asked what was troubling me.”

“I’m here for you,” she promised, and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Her gesture gave me reassurance she would keep my confidence or offer support if needed. I recounted the cemetery incident to her when I went for my book. The look on her face made it obvious she grasped the phenomenon that had occurred around the house and grounds. Though relieved to get it off my chest, things got worse for me afterward.”

“In what way?” I asked.

Uncle Jeb hesitated before he looked me in the eye. “Do you think I lost my arm in a car accident? That story sounds more believable than what happened.”

I stared at him with a gaping mouth. Running into Uncle Jeb proved to be better than any paper research.

“I’m all ears.” I made myself comfortable so I wouldn’t miss one word.

Editor: Michelle Naragon