Ghost on Black Mountain by Ann Hite Read Free Book Online

her a big cold glass. “Here.” I pointed to the bundle. “What did you bring?”
    Shelly smiled. “This here is from Mama. It’s brick dust. If you sprinkle it in front of each door, bad spirits can’t come in. She says you need it with someone like Hobbs.”
    “Thank you, Shelly. Tell your mama I’m beholding.” Brick dust, how silly was that? “Shelly, tell me about the man we saw in the woods.”
    “Has he come back?”
    “Yes, when Hobbs had the fire.” I looked away. “And the other night.”
    “I done told all I knew. He was before my time. He don’t come visiting me. He visits you.”
    “What do you mean?” A chill went through my body.
    “He’s showing himself to you for some reason, Miss Nellie. Ask him.”
    “Are you saying he’s a spirit?” Something familiar about the questions settled in my mind as if it was the last piece to a large puzzle.
    Shelly kind of laughed. “He’s about as dead as one person can be.”
    I held up my hand. “I don’t believe in ghosts. I told you that.”
    “You’re the one who brought him up.” She frowned at me.
    “What does he have to do with Hobbs?” I drank my coffee.
    Shelly took her time sipping the milk. “Don’t know.”
    “Why do you hate Hobbs?”
    “Lord be, ma’am, I don’t hate no one.” Shelly sat the half-full glass of milk on the table. “Mama thinks he killed my daddy, Clyde Parker.”
    My head roared. Jack had mentioned him the day I stood outside the barn listening.
    “Now don’t go fretting over what I think. Mama said Daddy was messing in things he knew better than to mess in.” Shelly was quiet for a minute. “Shoot, I wasn’t but five when it happened. I don’t even remember him.” She shrugged. “You can’t be all sad about somebody you never knew.” Her words were almost a whisper.
    “That would have made Hobbs around seventeen. Mrs. Connor said he killed his stepmama.”
    “Mama says some folks are just born bad. He’s one of them. Just be careful. You can’t figure him.”
    “So what spirits come to visit you and what do they say?”
    “This here needs a good cleaning.” Shelly rubbed on the stove. “He ain’t going to let me come much longer. Things are going to get bad.”
    Fingers of dread walked over my scalp. “He don’t care if you’re here.”
    She stopped rubbing the white enamel. “I’ll be close by ifyou need me. You can go to Mrs. Connor too. She’s nice enough.”
    This made me laugh out loud. What I needed was Mama but I was stuck. If I left and Hobbs came home, he’d throw a fit, chase me down, and punish Mama. How had I come to this knowing? No, I had to stay put to save Mama from getting hurt. And that wasn’t some ghost tale.

Ten

T hat winter on Black Mountain turned out to be colder than any in my whole lifetime. My firewood was running low and still no sign of Hobbs. Christmas was almost on me and this very fact made me sick. Hobbs wasn’t coming home. The thought sat on the very bottom of my heart, right there in the quiet place that I hid from everyone else.
    Jack would have split the wood for me, but I decided I could do it on my own. I had to learn to do things for myself. In the back of my mind, I believed I could please Hobbs. Eventually he would give in and let Mama come to me. I was young and didn’t have a lick of sense. I thought I could turn back time with just a desire. Anyway, splitting the wood showed I could be on my own. Mama taught me how to work for a living. Her laundry business for the fine ladies of Asheville gave me a taste of raw cracked knuckles; one year we even plowed a big field outside of town for a corn crop. We sold it to the farmers for feed. Neither one of us could be called lazy. I could chop wood.
    The temperature was around twenty degrees in the middle of the day. Little sheets of ice formed over the still parts of the river. The snow was as deep as ever, no longer pretty, but dirty and gray in most places.
    The sun showed through the