"Big Bill, if you know what's good for you, you'll change the way you're lookin' at me right this minute!" declared Aunt Cathy when she had finished telling her part of what happened the day she fell. "You've spent your adult life runnin' from it, but you know as well as I do that you have got a touch of the Sight' yourself."

Big Bill started to sputter a denial, but his son leaned over and put a hand on his thigh. Billy looked over uncertainly at his grandmother. Her pale blue eyes met the same blue eyes of her grandson, and she studied him for a long moment. No one spoke. Then, she nodded as if satisfied and leaned back on the pillows propped up behind her on the bed.

"Dad, I've heard Cassie playing her flute, up there in the graveyard. Not often, maybe only 2 or 3 times in the ten years since she passed over. And I have sensed her presence there at Aunt Cathy's – grandmaw's – many times since she died. And you have to. I know this because you talk in your sleep."

"Funny that you have never mentioned it before," Big Bill retorted.

"I'd a been a fool to talk about it to you, Dad, the way you have always ranted when I've tried to tell you about such things.