Page 1 (1/2)

Chapter one

I didn’t like Clyde Nunley the first time Iwrong with the exterior of the ular person would dress for the mild winter weather of southern Tennessee, especially considering the task at hand His old blue jeans, work boots, shapeless hat, flannel shirt, and down vest were reasonable attire But Dr Nunley had a sht me here to be an object of derision, said he’d never believed I was anything but a fraud

He shook reat ti the faces of my brother and me, as aited side by side for his directions

Offered under the aegis of the anthropology departht was titled "An Open Mind: Experiences Outside the Box" I noted the irony

"Last e had a ot a scowl for lanced sideways at Tolliver His eyes narrowed slightly, lettingme to play nice

If it hadn’t been for the presence of that asshole of a professor, I would have been brilanced past Dr Nunley at the tombstones, worn and weathered This was my kind of place

By American standards, the cemetery was an old one The trees had had nearly two centuries to s when the denizens of St Margaret’s churchyard had been laid to rest Now they were tall, with thick branches; in the suht now, in Noverass was bleached and streith dead leaves The sky was that chill, leaden gray that makes the heart sad

I would have been as subdued as the rest of the people gathered there if I hadn’t had a treat in store The headstones still upright were uneven, both in lodgment and in color Below them, the dead waited for me

It hadn’t rained in a week or two, so I earing Pumas rather than boots I would have better contact if I took the Pumas off, but the students and the professor would doubtless interpret that as further evidence ofaround barefoot

Nunley’s students were there to watch my "deroup, tere older; one, a wo to bet she’d arrived in thethe other vehicles pulled up to the wire strung bethite posts to separate the gravel parking lot frorass of the churchyard Her face was open and curious as she evaluated me

The other "nontraditional" class member was a man I placed in his early thirties, as dressed in cords and a heathery sweater The thirtiesColorado pickup Clyde Nunley would be the ancient Toyota The four other cars, battered and small, would be those of the traditional students who forh St Margaret’s was actually on the carounds, the old church was tucked far back into the reaches of Binghae, beyond the little stadium, the tennis courts, the soccer field--so it wasn’t surprising that the students who could, had driven, especially in the chilly weather The kids were in the typical college eighteen-to-twenty-one age bracket, and with an odd jolt I realized thatthe usual uniform of blue jeans, sneakers, and padded jackets--

Tolliver’s jacket was froood with his black hair, and the jacket ar ht blue padded jacket, because it iven it to rayness The trees that surrounded the old church, its yard, and its ce of privacy, as if we’d been ham campus

"Miss Connelly, we’re all anxious to see your de in esture with his arle of headstones The students didn’t look anxious They looked cold, bored, or mildly curious I wondered who the ifts

I glanced at Tolliver again Fuck him, his eyes said, and I smiled

They all had clipboards, all the students And all the clipboards had diagraravesites neatly drawn in and labeled Though this information wasn’t on their clipboards, I knew there was a detailed record of the burials in this particular graveyard, a record containing the cause of death of most of the bodies buried in it The parish priest had kept this record for the forty years he’d served St Margaret’s church, keeping up the custom of his predecessor But Dr Nunley had informed me that no one had been buried here for fifty years

The St Margaret records had been discovered three hae library So there was no way I could have found out the inforisters contained beforehand Dr Nunley, who had originated the occult studies class, had heard of me somehow He wouldn’t say exactly how my name had come to his attention, but that didn’t surprise me There are websites that connect to websites that connect to other websites; and in a very subterranean circle, I’ me to be exposed in front of the "An Open Mind" class He thought I considered myself some form of psychic, or maybe a Wiccan

Of course, thatI did was occult I didn’t pray to any god before I got in touch with the dead I do believe in God, but I don’t consider ot it fro So if you think God causes natural disasters, then I suppose God is responsible

When I was fifteen, I was struck through an openof the trailer where we lived At that ti, and they had had two children, Gracie and Mariella Crowded into the trailer (besides that lovely nuclear family) were the rest of us--me, my sister Cameron, Tolliver, and his brother Mark I don’t re Mark was actually in residence He’s several years older than Tolliver Anyway, Mark wasn’t at the trailer that afternoon

It was Tolliver who perforot there

My stepfather gave Ca the ambulance It was expensive, and of course, we didn’t have any insurance The doctor anted to keep ain, or any other doctor But fro strike survivors, I’ve gathered it wouldn’t have done ood, anyway

I recovered--e spiderweb pattern of red onhas episodes of weakness Soht hand shakes I have headaches I have many fears And I can find dead people If their location is known, I can diagnose the cause of death

That was the part that interested the professor He had a record of the cause of death of almost every person in this cemetery, a record to which I’d had no access This was his idea of a perfect test, a test that would expose me for the fraud I was With an alh the dilapidated iron fence that had guarded the cemetery for so in?" I asked, with perfect courtesy I had been raised well, until s