Gabby hesitated at the gates of the Magnolia Cemetery. She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head to get a clearer view of the graveyard. The afternoon sun caused the tombstones to throw shadows on each other. In the far right corner, a white mausoleum rose above the other graves. Ice dripped down her spine, and foreboding eased into her soul.
As the Baton Rouge native stepped through the black wrought iron gate, she rubbed her arms, wondering why she was here. All her life, Gabby had driven or been driven around the little cemetery. Her mother, when she was alive, loved to drag her down to the Maison Blanche on Main Street. Now the store was an empty shell, a memory of what it once was. Gabby wondered if Joseph (or was it Hans?) Sternberg, the long deceased owner, roamed the old mile long building. She wondered if his mother was still alive.
Slowly, Gabby moved among the graves, reading the names but not really paying attention. She silently mourned the loss of her mother. It had been three years ago, but there were times when Gabby couldn’t help but miss her. One never stops loving even though the person is gone.
Gabby’s eyes welled up with tears, and she sat down on a bench to get control of her emotions. A shadow fell across her, and she looked up to see who blocked the sun. There was no one there. At least, no one she could see.
The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Her heart skipped a beat as the word ‘ghost’ popped into her head. Frantic, she looked to see if anyone else was around, but there was no one.
The next instant, the sun’s warmth touched her skin. Relief flooded through Gabby, and she chided herself for getting spooked so quickly. She felt like an idiot and was desperately glad no one had been around. She closed her eyes and silently told herself to chill out.
A cold hand slid over her fingers. Gabby’s eyes popped open, and she screamed as she snatched her hand to her chest. Sitting next to her was a handsome young man with black hair and blue eyes. Instantly, Gabby felt stupid for being such a ninny ... again.
The man smiled, sending a warm, fuzzy feeling straight to Gabby’s heart. She smiled in return.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” Gabby stammered. “I shouldn’t have screamed. This place has me spooked out.”
The man nodded. “I can understand that.” He leaned closer to her. “It’s really not a place for the living.”
Not knowing what to say, Gabby looked down. “Do you come here often?”
“You could say that,” he mumbled.
They both became silent, lost in their own private worlds. The scream of a car horn jolted both of them back to their senses. The man held out his hand.
“I’m Brett.”
“Gabby. Nice to meet you,” she replied. Accepting his handshake, she was startled at the coldness ... and at the familiarity of it. Brows furrowed, she raised her eyes from their hands to his face. A question died on her parted lips as their eyes locked. A century old memory surfaced in Gabby’s mind, merging the past swiftly into the present.
*
Gabrielle held Brett’s head on her lap. Blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth, soiling her last good ballroom dress. At that moment, she didn’t care about it. The love of her young life was dying.
Brett had used every ounce of energy left to get to Gabrielle, his beloved. A flame danced above a plain white candle, doing little to light up the kitchen. The rest of the plantation was quiet. No one but Fannie, the cook, knew he was here. She was the one who had let him in and fetched Miss Gabrielle from her room. Fannie had no idea that the girl had been waiting for Brett ... to elope with him. The old woman’s heart broke as she watched Miss Gabrielle.
Sobbing, Gabrielle asked, “What happened?”
Barely able to whisper, Brett explained. “I was coming for you, my love. I had just left my father’s plantation and was passing through the woods that bordered Baton Rouge.”
Brett closed his eyes and fearfully licked his lips. “I stumbled into Hell. Soldiers were everywhere. Thank God I had my sword. Confederates mistook me for Union, and Union thought I was Confederate. I was attacked from every side. No friends. Only foes. I dove into a nearby bush and hid ... hoping ...”
Brett had unwittingly blundered into what would come to be known as the Battle of Baton Rouge. Around 4 am on August 5, 1862, Confederate Major General John C. Breckenridge led his troops against Brigadier General Thomas Williams and his Union soldiers in an effort to take back Baton Rouge, Louisiana. His attempt failed, leaving 168 dead, 581 wounded, and 90 soldiers missing.
Suddenly, Brett gasped for air. His body convulsed, and more blood gushed from his mouth. Gabrielle became hysterical. She wanted to help him but didn’t know how. All she could do was rock him back and forth with his head against her chest.
“Brett,” she cried. “Don’t leave me.”
As if in answer, his body stopped thrashing, and his dulled blue eyes looked imploringly up at her. Then they looked past her, glazing over as he passed into the next world.
The 19th century kitchen door flew open behind Gabrielle. Startled, she looked over her shoulder and saw a man standing in the doorway - a Union soldier. Fannie screamed as Gabrielle jumped to her feet. Yet she found herself not in the year 1862 but back in 1999, standing in the graveyard. Brett looked up at her from the bench with heartache in his eyes.
The impact of emotions sent Gabby to her knees. Covering her face with her hands, she sobbed uncontrollably. Brett placed his cold hand on her head and ran his fingers over her hair, trying to comfort her.
Gabby finally stopped crying and looked at Brett. Her eyes were red and puffy. “I don’t understand. Was that I? Am I that 19th century woman? Were we lovers long ago?”
Brett nodded. “Jealous Fate ripped us apart.”
“I still don’t understand. Why are we together now? Why did it take so long? Are you alive? Am I dead?”
The questions spilled from Gabby’s mouth the second she thought them. Brett simply smiled sadly. “If I knew that, wouldn’t it be a miracle?”
Gabby suddenly looked at Brett as if for the first time. She took in his appearance — right down to the bloodstains on his 19th century shirt, and it sunk in with sudden clarity. He was a ghost.
Her heart hammered in her chest. A little too fast, she jumped to her feet and stumbled back from Brett, nearly tripping in her effort. She clutched at the cross around her neck and whispered a silent prayer for help. Apparently, she was losing her grip on reality.
Brett smiled at her. “I’m not a vampire, Gabrielle. I won’t hurt you.”
Her cheeks flamed red when she realized she held the cross between her and Brett like a talisman. She quickly let it go, feeling the weight of it tap lightly against her chest.
Not knowing what else to do, Gabby turned and ran from Brett. An unreasonable fear coursed through her as she raced around the tombstones. All she knew was that she had to get away. She soon found herself hesitating at the gate of the cemetery, mesmerized by the scene before her.
People were everywhere - nosy onlookers. The police had blocked off North 19th Street from all directions. Teams of EMS people were trying to revive someone who was laid out beside a little tan car. Gabby recognized the person. It was her father.
Seconds later, they cheered as he was brought back from the brink of death. Gabby released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She took a step forward to go to her father’s side but was instantly slammed back into the cemetery. She landed roughly on her butt.
Extremely confused, Gabby looked up at Brett, who smiled woefully at her. He extended his hand and helped her up. Once again, Gabby approached the gate. This time, she did not try to venture past. Curiously, she looked at the car wreck before her.
Her eyes fell on a body covered by a white blanket. Blood had already seeped through, staining it from a light pink to a deep violent red. Gabby knew in an instant whose body that was and why she couldn’t leave the cemetery.
A soft cry stuck in her throat as she threw herself into Brett’s arms. Oddly, his presence no longer terrified her. It became more of a comfort than the threat she not so long ago had perceived it to be.
In his arms, she trembled. She cried. She grieved for her short life on earth, and when it was over, Brett took her by the hand and led her into the Promised Land.
The End
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