Awakening (Lily Dale #1)(42)

Her head turns automatically toward the bedside table to check the clock, just as she remembers that she unplugged it in the night.

Or did she? It’s flashing 12:00 once again.

Calla jerks upright in bed and grabs the clock. I know I unplugged it. I remember!

She jabs blindly at the buttons on top until the time changes to—and holds at—12:01.

It isn’t 12:01. God knows what time it really is. All Calla cares about is that it isn’t 3:17.

She slowly returns the clock to the table and stares at it.

She read last week that spirit energy feeds on electronic energy to make its presence known. Meaning, spirits can manipulate appliances and electronic devices—according to the author of the book and his pages upon pages of research sources.

Supposedly, spirits can disrupt a radio signal or even send a certain song that has meaning for someone they left behind.

It stands to reason they can also tamper with a clock.

But if that’s the case here, Calla wonders, what are they trying to tell me with 3:17?

“Did you find us a place to live yet?” Calla asks her father when he calls that afternoon.

“Not yet. But I’m trying.” He says that every day. She’s beginning to wonder if he’s ever going to find a place for them. . . and what will happen if he doesn’t.

“I’m going to see a place by the beach tomorrow,” he says optimistically. “It sounds perfect for us, and it’s in our price range, and there’s a great public school. Cross your fingers.”

“I will. But . . . I mean, it’s almost September.”

“Not yet.We’ve got plenty of time to find a place.”

“I hope so.”

“Have you been keeping busy? Hanging around with your new friend Evangeline?”

Surprised her absentminded father remembered the name, Calla says, “A little.”

There’s a pause. “Is everything okay there, Calla?”

She wonders if she should tell him what’s been going on, or pretend everything is fine. In other words, should she stay in Lily Dale another ten days as she’s supposed to, or leave right away? If she tells her father the truth, he’ll yank her out of there before she can say boo.

And then what? He doesn’t even have a place for me to stay in California.

“Dad?” she asks. “What happens if you decide not to do the sabbatical after all? Can you go back to your job in Florida this semester instead?”

“Nope,” he says, “can’t do that. I have to do the sabbatical. It’ll work out fine. Don’t worry. Just enjoy the rest of your time there. You’ll be here with me before you know it.”

That, Calla thinks as she hangs up, will be a relief.

Then again, will it really? Once she leaves Lily Dale, she’ll be farther away from her mother than ever. And she might never know what’s going on in Odelia’s haunted house, or what the ghosts are trying to tell her.

“You’re going to the message circle after all?” Odelia asks in surprise, about to walk out the door the next night, when Calla walks downstairs in sneakers and a jacket. “I thought you said at dinner that you were too exhausted.”

She shrugs, avoiding Odelia’s gaze. “I was, but I splashed some cold water on my face and woke myself up.” That’s all true. What she doesn’t say is that she’s so exhausted because she had the same dream yet again last night, and it woke her at 3:17 again. She knows, because she saw the clock, which she was certain she’d left unplugged when she went to bed.

Maybe if she gets rid of the clock, the inexplicable, silent 3:17 wake-up call will just go away.

She threw the clock into the kitchen garbage, carrying the bag out to the can behind the shed for good measure. Maybe she can’t control her dreams, but she’s finished with the clock.

“Well, I’m glad you changed your mind.” Odelia opens the front door. “It’s about time you saw what goes on here. Come on.”

Calla follows her out into the night. “Why don’t you ever lock your house?” she asks as Odelia merely pulls the door, and then the screen door, shut behind them.

Calla can’t help but think about the girl who was standing out in front of Odelia’s house the other night. What did she want? Was she casing the place, planning to rob it or something?

For some reason, she never did mention it to Odelia. Maybe because she’s not entirely sure she didn’t imagine it. After all, the girl seemed to be there one minute and gone the next.

At least I know she’s real, though, Calla thinks wryly, since she and her mother were here for a reading that first time. Yeah, ghosts probably don’t need mediums to contact the dead.

“Why would I lock the house?” Odelia asks. “Anything I have in there, people are welcome to take, if they need it that badly. That’s one way to clean out clutter, right?”

They head down Cottage Row along the pavement still shiny from today’s downpour, which is apparently over—at least, for now. The sky is charcoal colored, not just from the gathering dusk. A lake-blown gust stirs leafy branches overhead, foreshadowing more rain.

“You know, it really is dangerous to leave your house unlocked,” Calla persists as they painstakingly make their way toward the auditorium. Odelia, she’s noticed, has a hard time moving quickly because of her weight.