One Determined Ghost

By Kathleen Fenaughty

Step into the world of 'One Determined Ghost' and immerse yourself in a captivating story that delves into the realms of magic, destiny, and timeless love. MaryAnn Walker's life takes an unexpected turn during the Halloween season when the boundary between the living and the dead blurs, revealing a path to the extraordinary. When her beloved cat, Thunder, leaps through a mysterious portal, MaryAnn is drawn into a quest to reunite lost family souls. What unfolds is a testament to the power of love and the enchantment of fate.

In the midst of the Alhallowtide festivities, MaryAnn and Eugene Bradley find their twin-flame connection put to the ultimate test. Seeking guidance and light amidst their challenges, MaryAnn's heartfelt plea is answered by an unyielding ghost donning a distinctive purple-feathered hat. As a long-lost ruby resurfaces, it triggers a flood of memories and untold secrets.

Guided by an Earth Angel with insight into the ghost's enigmatic existence and aided by a perceptive witch skilled in the paranormal, MaryAnn embarks on a journey of self-discovery. With her loyal orange cat by her side, she sets forth on a path that leads her toward her own North Lodestar—an inner guide. Meanwhile, Eugene grapples with his inner demons beneath the formidable Thunder Mountain.

As their passionate twin-flame love and unwavering determination are put to the test, MaryAnn and Eugene must rise above challenges and uncover the deeper layers of their souls. 'One Determined Ghost' is a tale of love's endurance and the pursuit of destiny, where the boundaries between worlds blur and the mystical threads of time weave a mesmerizing tapestry. Can their connection withstand the trials of their soul's journey and ascend to newfound heights?

Embrace a narrative filled with wonder, magic, and the resounding echoes of love that transcend even the boundaries of life and death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Sep 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798350918984

Book preview

One

What is magic but a secret, supernatural power that miraculously makes the impossible instantly possible. From enchantment and alchemy to transmutation and necromancy, the proper key can unlock the mysterious forces that may alter the course of events. All that is offered here is a perception that there are powerful forces of energy. Some bright, some dark. Some identify as spirit, some as good, others as evil. Indeed, magical beliefs help us deal with difficult situations.

It all started one night on the week of Halloween, around the auspiciously magical Days of the Dead, the celebratory Allhallowtide, and mystical time of the pumpkins, ghosts, witches, and the unseen from the Other World. The moon was totally invisible that night. It was a new moon for the second time that month. That is called a Black moon. Unlike the new moon used for manifesting, the black moon is a time used for processing everything. Since everything is energy and everything that moves on earth is moved by the moon, that kind of moon provided a double dose of cosmic mojo juice, which bolstered everything. As the stars shined brighter against the black backdrop of limitless possibilities, powerful forces were afoot.

That night the magic of believing found its way back to MaryAnn Walker. That belief became her Polaris Lodestar because somewhere deep inside of herself there was a light of infinite possibilities.

It was an early morning shift the next day at the hospital for MaryAnn, so she decided that since neither she nor Eugene had been sleeping well, it was best for her to sleep in the guest bedroom. They were both overstressed by the pandemic chaos. Everyone was. It would be better; she knew it.

MaryAnn Walker had been staying with Dr. Eugene Bradley ever since their unexpected mandatory exit from Arizona. Dr. Eugene Bradley was a leading oncologist at Springdale Hospital. As a nurse, MaryAnn had worked by his side for years. Eugene’s home was more like an estate with acres of property tucked away in the old, wealthy corner of Western Connecticut. But that night started just like every other night for MaryAnn. Sleep was still out of the question. MaryAnn’s heart pounded against her chest as a fresh wave of panic arose. She took a deep breath in and exhaled loudly, lifted herself up and knelt by the bedside, pressed her palms together, and began to pray.

I need your help. I know you are very busy up there in Heaven. But no one wants to talk about this whole mess. No one wants to hear about it. Whom else can I talk to about it? If you were here, I would ask you. So, I am here again asking you for your help. How can it ever get fixed without you? I do not understand it and I do not know what to do. I know I am asking for a miracle but you can do anything. You could make all this better. I believe in you. You can make the impossible, possible. You are the miracle maker.

A year had gone by since MaryAnn and Eugene left Arizona. The grind of each passing day became more intense. MaryAnn tried to believe and imagine living the life Eugene had promised then. She smiled dreamily. It was only a dream, nothing real, she thought. Arrrgghh!

MaryAnn fumed, Listen, I am going to wait here until I hear something. Please say something.

MaryAnn closed her eyes and waited and waited and waited. Nothing is going to happen, she exclaimed. Nothing!

Then she heard a faint sound.

Disbelievers in the magic of miracles deny them as superstitious whether rightly or wrongly but MaryAnn Walker still wanted to believe. She waited for a while longer and just before she was about to give up, she thought she heard what sounded like a small whisper.

I couldn’t hear you . . . say that again. MaryAnn replied, and again waited some more.

Then she heard a familiar phrase, one she had not heard since they left Arizona. It seemed to waft through the air.

Mama Lilla, a recently deceased beloved friend, waved her fingers in the air. She had used her powers before, when she was human. But this world of the ethereal was a new challenge. Mama Lilla was a very determined ghost. Sometimes ectoplasms appear before becoming full-bodied apparitions. Her disembodied voice was faint and very muffled, Miss Mary.

MaryAnn quickly opened her eyes.

The voice seemed so clear and so close as the words believe, be love, beloved wafted through the air just as if she was under Thunder Mountain.

How could it be? MaryAnn thought. Mama? Is that you? she asked.

But the room had returned to a dark quiet.

Mama Lilla? Could it be you?

A thousand and one things rushed through MaryAnn’s mind at that moment. Before she knew what happened, her cat Thunder jumped out of nowhere and up onto the bed. He sat and looked straight past her face. He sat and stared out into seemingly empty space.

You must be psychic. Did you hear her too, your Mama? I think it was her, trying to say something. She spoke quietly to Thunder.

Thunder purred as he rolled over onto to his back and exposed his belly.

Belly rub time. MaryAnn cooed. I just could not leave you out there. Big change for you, huh, boy?

Big change for me too. MaryAnn playfully tickled his front paw.

"Ha, ha, ha." Mama Lilla laughed as MaryAnn extended her fingers and rubbed Thunder’s belly.

One thing must be made clear for the reader. Make no mistake about it, Mama Lilla was dead.

Thunder immediately flipped his body over and sat upright.

Oh my God, did you hear that? MaryAnn gasped.

Suddenly the alarm alert signal beeped on the phone.

Oh no, that late already. Blech, this is it, MaryAnn grumbled.

Most mornings MaryAnn robotically rushed out. But that morning, she sat there and waited beside Thunder while she stroked his fluffy orange fur.

Okay, okay, Thunder. Everything is okay. Nothing to fear. She spoke calmly, almost to reassure herself.

The cat rubbed his face into MaryAnn’s touch and flicked his long, fluffy tail.

We all have ghosts from the past, right? MaryAnn said in an edged tone, And this past year has been a total nightmare. She continued, I mean it could just be my imagination, but I thought I heard her voice. MaryAnn bolstered herself up. Got to hurry up. No need to be late. Probably be my last day. She scurried around quickly with a peculiar restless energy and just as she rushed out to her car, she heard a voice again.

I heard you talk. Mama Lilla? Is that you? You’re dead. How can you talk? Show me something. A sign. Something. Please, she pleaded.

To be honest, the ghost of Mama Lilla had been waiting on the ethereal threshold for some time as she adjusted her powers of intangibility. She was new to being dead. She found that even the manipulating invisible threads of energy challenged her abilities. If she could find a portal, she could quantum tunnel through anything. But this being a ghost was all new to her. In the past, every time Mama Lilla had attempted to appear, she was unable to achieve even a simple mist. But there was something that night about MaryAnn’s plea for help that empowered Mama Lilla with some magical combination that came from love’s eternal heart.

Outside, piercing through the clouds came the familiar autumn song of the migrating Canadian geese. They honked in conversation with each other as they glided through the air in a constantly changing triangular formation like a large V shape in the sky. For MaryAnn, it looked like it could be a sign from Mama Lilla that told her it was time for her to take flight too.

Is that my sign? MaryAnn asked and smiled. She looked up to the skies knowingly. It must be you, Mama. No one ever used that phrase with me before, Mama. Or after, for that matter. MaryAnn reassured herself, I swear I heard her, she thought.

It was time—time for MaryAnn to begin a new journey. It was time to let go of what she had held so tightly. It was her migration, too.

And that is when she noticed an unfamiliar piece of architecture. Erected in the back section of Eugene’s property was an old building that looked like a small castle with a turret showing through the barren branched trees. She felt pulled to a sudden stop. It looked odd in its location, almost out of place, almost mystically ancient.

Never saw that. How odd, MaryAnn pushed her glasses up her nose and squinted through the light. No time now. I need my java. She sighed.

With little time left for her to investigate, MaryAnn scurried into her vehicle.

Not now . . . later definitely, for sure. Got to focus now, she said as she rubbed her eyes.

The road was empty and with light enough traffic before her, she was able to make it to the corner store in less than ten minutes. As she rushed through the automatic doors, she pulled her mask up over her nose. Ten minutes . . . record time today. She gasped. Her words were muffled by the mask.

The face of the woman at the cash register was partially covered by her own face-mask. It was somewhat awkwardly wrapped underneath her chin.

Getting your weekly ticket? she chuckled. Anything else?

Yes. Give me a daily too, please. I am feeling lucky today. MaryAnn gestured with an affirmative nod as she spoke.

Of course . . . of course.

You know something? Today, I think miracles are possible. MaryAnn exclaimed as she paid her bill and dropped a single bill in the jar on the counter labeled, Pet Shelter.

Yes, Miss, they are. Thanks, you always leave us something for the charity. We really appreciate you. The cashier said with gratitude.

Thanks, I love your coffee, and . . . you know how much I love this shelter.

A loyal customer, Miss, through this whole thing. Seriously, you are our local hero! the woman behind the counter responded as she reached behind the register and lifted a single yellow rose. For you, she said. May this year be better. She handed the cellophane-wrapped rose to MaryAnn.

Thanks. So sweet and generous. MaryAnn smiled as she inhaled the fresh flower’s fragrance, Mm, smells so nice.

We really do still appreciate our healthcare workers. A free rose occasionally seems like very little in comparison to what you have done for so many.

Thanks. Not sure if I will . . . MaryAnn stopped herself from continuing.

Know you will be always a hero to us. The cashier smiled and made a heart symbol with her hands.

Wish me luck. MaryAnn waved her tickets in the air and walked back out to her car.

With little time to waste, MaryAnn arrived at Springdale Hospital. A small demonstration of healthcare workers on strike had picked up more followers. They were lined up along the street on the corner, at the cross street with the employee parking garage. Unexpectedly, there were several police stationed around the hospital as well, which made it more congested than usual.

The parking garage was attached directly to the main hospital. It had always been a freaky kind of place, eerie and dark with a coldness like death that came from the cement walls.

MaryAnn felt in her bones. She had seldom felt comfortable walking through it, but the COVID-19 pandemic magnified that sense of evil. The lower levels appeared to be full and she circled each floor in search of a space to no avail.

Round and round MaryAnn drove up and around, until finally she spotted a small, tight space tucked in the back corner of the eleventh floor. She tried not to bump into the cement column, but she was running late and miscalculated the space. Though her navigation maneuvered around the column, she heard a slight scrape somewhere along the back bumper.

MaryAnn urged herself to ignore the disruption and move even faster. She repeated the familiar phrase, I ain’t afraid of no ghosts, then added, who you gonna call? Ghost Busters! Funny. Could have used them this morning. She nervously laughed and locked the car doors then tried to focus her attention on the elevators.

Ugg, hearing voices, covid nightmare . . . and the police . . . now what? MaryAnn quietly mumbled, as she struggled with her bag to find the back inside pocket. Damn this thing, she huffed as she pulled out her face mask. So much for my loyalty and dedication. Nothing like the geese. Her voice was raspy and exhausted, overworked from endless days, nights and longer shifts.

On her way across the garage, the lighted columns in front of the elevator doors emitted enough light to guide her path. She stopped for a moment, just long enough to catch her breath and balance her emotions once again. Her mind spun, preoccupied with her thoughts and questions about the voice, the geese, and the turret. But then something happened.

A very subtle shift occurred when she heard the cooing sound of a dove. She stood still in her spot for several minutes, immobilized. The thought, the dove brings in love flashed a memory across her mind.

Mama Lilla was there with MaryAnn and though she was still invisible, she was gaining her strength. Her ectoplasmic energies were beginning to develop enough to empower her form into a vaporous cloud of ghostly mist.

Taken aback for moment, MaryAnn turned her head to look. What she saw could easily have been missed by anyone who was in a rush.

If not for the sound of the bird cooing, MaryAnn would have walked past it. But the sound made her stop. When she looked over to find the source, she saw a small golden light beam threaded through the air that pointed down over in the corner; over in the dark shadows, almost invisible, there, a ghostly mist appeared that took the shape of a robed figure.

Just then, the dove’s song called her attention back. When MaryAnn turned and tried to look closer, the mist was gone and the light beam had disappeared with it.

Foibles, again, Mama Lilla muttered.

Seriously freaky, MaryAnn mumbled, and the pull on her spirit ignited within her a sense that there was something or someone there, but with no time for her to investigate, she pulled her mask up, ran to the elevator, and pushed the ground floor button for the hospital chapel.

For eleven floors, MaryAnn felt it. That tug. That intuitive pull on the soul that speaks without words. That intuitive sense. On the first few floors, she felt stimulated by the song of the dove. It started to awaken a sleeping ghost in a repressed memory. Then, Thunder Mountain flashed before her mind’s eye. Thunder Mountain, where she met Mama Lilla and where she lost her too. As soon as the elevator door opened to the ground floor, a very strong nostalgic pull flooded her emotions.

Mama Lilla died for me. She saved my life. Not even a fair goodbye. MaryAnn felt her gut clench.

With no time to waste, MaryAnn moved quickly down through the lobby and slipped through several sets of doors to bypass security. As quickly as she could, she skirted her way through another back door that opened to the side door of the hospital chapel.

It was a small room and as soon as she walked inside, she noticed only a few of the closest members of the team were present.

MaryAnn Walker walked up to the memorial altar and placed the yellow rose in