Southern Ways – Part 16
Southern Ways
The air crackled with energy as the wind gusted around us. Ralph, Liz, Roxanne, and I held hands, reciting ancient spells. The candles we had lit had long since blown out, proving useless, but the sage bundle nestled in the amethyst bowl glowed in red and yellow hues. Smoke twisted and danced to the whims of the wind.
Liz stepped away from the circle and took out her bottle of holy water mixed with Nightshade, Mandrake, Hemlock, cinnamon, Rosemary, and Devil’s Claw. She sprinkled it among the gravestones and the area surrounding us.
“Familiar, you are bound to this earth by no fault of your own. I release you. Go to Summerland, that place beyond the material plane. Wait for your time. Your soul will incarnate when the time is right. Leave these grounds. Be at peace. So mote it be.”
We all chanted along. Some unseen force attempted to break our circle. They tried to silence us by dust devils encircling and throwing dirt into our eyes and mouths, but we continued on. As the wind howled louder, our voices were screaming. I was determined to rid my family of this presence and wouldn’t give up.
The sage bundle pulsed with a blinding light, illuminating the darkness. The ground beneath our feet trembled as the entity fought against the words of release. A cacophony of whispers filled the air, drowning out our chants with haunting echoes of pain and despair.
But we stood firm, united in our purpose with unwavering resolve. The amethyst bowl vibrated violently, sending shockwaves through the earth as the boundary between the living and the dead grew thin.
A blinding flash of light erupted from the center of the circle, forcing us to turn our faces away. We saw a figure standing before our eyes when the brilliance faded – ethereal and shimmering with energy.
With a final, powerful incantation, we called upon the elements to aid us in banishing the spirit from our midst. The sky above darkened. Storm clouds gathered above us, crackling with lightning. A bolt struck the center of the cemetery, illuminating the figure of a woman in tattered white robes.
Her eyes blazed with anger and sorrow, and her voice echoed in our minds. “You cannot cast me out! This is my home, my resting place. I will not leave!”
But we stood firm, united in our purpose. With one last surge of power, we unleashed a wave of pure light that enveloped the spirit. Her form wavered, dissipating into the night, leaving a sense of peace and closure that washed over us like a warm embrace.
As we caught our breath and surveyed our surroundings, we knew that our mission was complete. The entity, which I assumed was Dahlia, had haunted our family for generations. She was the one who allowed earthbound spirits to inhabit Aunt Rosie’s home, our heritage. Ralph put a comforting arm around Liz, visibly shaken but relieved.
I sighed, and Roxanne wiped away a tear. Relief washed over me; a lengthy burden lifted. The souls of our ancestors seemed to whisper words of gratitude on the breeze. Dahlia was at peace. Her arrival in Summerland was clear; there, she could rest, awaiting her soul’s journey.
We left the cemetery as the first light of dawn broke on the horizon. Though I understood our lives would never be free of darkness and danger, I also recognized as long as we were united, we could face anything that came our way. The night’s events irrevocably changed us; hand-in-hand, we left the hallowed ground.
I hesitated at Aunt Rosie’s, glancing back at the cemetery. The air was motionless; and the only sound was leaves the rustling in the gentle breeze. The storm had passed, leaving behind a sense of calm and closure.
Ralph put a hand on my shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze. “We did it,” he whispered.
I nodded. We had faced the darkness head-on and emerged victorious.
Victory and unity permeated the room as we gathered in the parlor, exhausted but triumphant. I popped a bottle of bubbly and poured us each a glass. We clinked them together in a silent toast to our success. The events of the night felt surreal, like a distant memory fading into the past.
In the living room, we each settled into the cozy furniture that had supported our group during numerous nights of research and planning. The adrenaline continued to course through my veins. Liz brewed a pot of herbal tea. The scent of chamomile and lavender infused the surroundings.
Roxanne lit a few candles around the room, casting a warm glow that pushed back the lingering shadows. Liz hummed a soft melody, a soothing tune that eased the tension in the air. Ralph stoked the fire in the hearth, sending sparks dancing up into the chimney.
I broke the silence. “We can’t let our guard down. There may be other entities, other restless spirits seeking to cause harm. We won’t know if Uncle Jeb and Aunt Thelma followed Dahlia to Summerland. Should we head over to their farmhouse in Rincon to be certain?”
Their facial expressions reminded me of cartoon bubbles over their heads. I started laughing. “The looks on your faces! I get it. Realistically, I’d rather not repeat this. If we neglect to, we may regret it in the future.”
Roxanne nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the flickering flames of the candles. “We must continue to strengthen our defenses, to hone our skills in the ancient arts. I vote we go. Sooner than later, while it remains fresh in our memories.”
We sipped our tea and discussed our next steps. I was grateful for these brave people who stood beside me and faced unimaginable danger. Each of them had shown strength, courage, and unwavering loyalty throughout our ordeal.
A soft knock at the door interrupted our conversation. We exchanged puzzled glances before Ralph rose to answer it. A kind, smiling elderly woman waited on the doorstep.
“I was invited to join you at the cemetery,” she began, her voice could soothe the soul like a lullaby. “But I had a family emergency. I brought you a gift for all you brave ones.”
Liz stood up from her chair. “Evelyn, we missed having you last night, dear.”
She held a small wooden box intricately carved with symbols we didn’t recognize in her outstretched hand. Curiosity piqued, we accepted the container and opened it to reveal five shiny rocks of different colors – pulsating with a mysterious energy.
“These are elemental stones,” the woman explained. “Their vibe called to me this morning, and I had to rush them over. They will grant you protection and guidance on your voyage ahead. Remember, the power lies within you.”
“How did you figure out our journey wasn’t over? We were discussing it prior to you getting here.” I turned to the group. “This is a sign. I’ll have Esme make breakfast, and then we’ll head to the farm.”
We thanked Evelyn for help and watched as she disappeared into the mist. I picked up one of the elemental stones, and a warmth spread through my hand, traveling up my arm. It filled me with strength and determination.
Two hours later, we all stood facing the farmhouse.
“The last time I was here, I ran out of the house, scared out of my wits, after a dark-cloaked man approached me. When Uncle Jeb and Aunt Thelma showed up, he disappeared. They are tag team spirits who may come alone or as a unit. Be prepared.” I took out the sage bundle and lit it, spreading the smoke over each of us for protection.
“Ready?” I asked the group before me.
“As ready as we’ll ever be. Let’s get this over with.” Roxanne said.
Ralph led the way. In the foyer, we were hit with an icy blast of air. The smell of smoke hung heavy in the house, but the fireplace had no wood in it. I wondered if the others noticed. No one said anything.
“They’re here,” Liz whispered.
We ventured forth into the unknown. Like before, all the doors were closed off the hallway.
“Let me give the place a once-over before we begin,” Ralph instructed. Liz nodded in agreement.
We could see our breath as we walked toward the back of the house. The cold increased the further we went.
Backtracking, Ralph opened the first entryway he came to. Pushing open the door exposed a room filled with withered herbs. Did we cast the entities to Summerland?
“It looks like the plants aren’t being cared for as before,” I said. “Someone’s been here.” I pointed to the dust on the floor, which revealed footprints.
“We may have weakened the spirits by banishing their leader,” Liz said.
“Let’s get to work, I’m freezing.” chattered Roxanne through clenched teeth.
Liz pulled out the white candle, an egg, and a glass of water she had retrieved from the kitchen. She lit the sage and walked around the room, cleansing the space.
Her incantation differed from last night, but as she recited it, we all picked up on the words and began repeating what she was saying. The elemental stones Evelyn had given the group that morning vibrated in their box. The air grew colder. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two blurred figures approaching us: Uncle Jeb and Aunt Thelma. When they approached our area, they flew back. Our protection was working.
Liz recited the banishing incantation, and we followed her lead. The apparitions slowly dissipated upwards to the ceiling. Tears formed in my eyes with my silent goodbye to my beloved uncle.
When I had entered the house, the smell of firewood burning was prominent. It became more pronounced and the acrid smell of a fire filled my nostrils. I had thought it was the sendoff of my relatives, but when I looked out toward the hall, smoke was billowing into the room.
“Holy shit. Hurry, get out!”
We piled out the front door, racing to the middle of the yard. The farmhouse had flames erupting from all the windows and the roof quickly collapsed onto the structure. A fire must have started in the upstairs bedroom and had been burning the entire time we had been in the house.
The sirens could be heard coming up the lengthy driveway.
“Is everyone out?” one firefighter asked.
“Yes.” We all said.
In my mind, I saw the photos on the hall wall curling and burning, erasing my childhood memories caught on film.
Liz approached, taking my hand. “Honey, you understand this isn’t a coincidence, right?”
“This total experience feels symbolic and surreal. It’s overwhelming.”
She squeezed my fingers. “I know all too well. Having lived in the most haunted city in America my entire life, my grandmother explained it to me as the southern way. Those of us with the gift will forever be indebted to helping the earthbound spirits find their passage home. Your Aunt Rosie passed it on to you, my dear.”
I had some big shoes to fill. With all these wonderful, intuitive people by my side, I was confident I was up for the task. My mother didn’t name me Savannah for nothing. The southern way was in my blood and I planned to do it proud.
* * * * *
That evening, Ken and I sat on the front porch sipping an Old Fashion, enjoying the warm spring night.
“Aunt Rosie died from a heart attack caused by our ancestral ghosts.” I said. “Do you think the police would believe me?”
“Not sure,” he replied. “Best if we keep it in the family.”
I smiled at him. He had been more than understanding through this ordeal.
Ken stared at me. “What is your new title?”
“Guardian of the realm. Why?”
“I’m wondering, when is the next drum circle?” He raised and lowered his eyebrows in fast succession.
Finally, everything was back to normal.
Editor: Michelle Naragon
