Aim to Engage 2023

1 Love's Ghost

The hotel was exquisite. I knew it would be. Pictures online were amazing and the cliff where it stood above the sweeping cove on the Pacific shoreline was sheer. A drop of over three hundred feet to a rock strewn beach with small slivers of pale gold sand.

Far better in person. The breeze was gentle at the moment, and I wondered if the rumors of ghosts were true. How do I contact one? Grandpa's last request was for me to find Lorrel. His sweetheart. The one he lost before they could marry. She died in a car crash along with the rest of her family when her father drove over the side of a seaside cliff.

Grandpa had a picture inside the cover of his pocket watch. She was a beauty. Ink black curls around a heart-shaped face, and lavender eyes with a slight almond slant. Grandma never complained. She says people are capable of more than one love in a lifetime. They just have to learn to say goodbye and let go.

I decided to check in before I went wandering the grounds. Or to look over the cliff. I wonder if Lorrel was there, seeing as she died in such a tragic way on the California shore.

"Mr. Craigie, welcome." The girl at the registration desk smile. Impressive, it really looked like she was genuine. Not the fake I get most of the time. My guess is my reputation as a travel writer preceded me. It usually does. One mention in my blog usually brought huge influxes of visitors.

"Please don't write about us. We prefer to be found by diligent research and need. I don't want ghost hunters and mediums invading us." Her name tag said Kimberley.

"I'll respect that, Kimberley. I'm here to see if I can connect with my grandfather's first love. He's passed on you see, and I would like to let her know she can find him now, if she's here. I hope she is for Grandpa's sake."

"We've had some success in figuring out who some of our ghosts are. A forlorn lot. Their weeping can often be heard on clear nights. It seems they love the full moon best."

"Her name is Lorrel. Lorrel Laurentian. Like the shade of blue. Her eyes were lavender though, just like the flowers," I explained.

"Really? A Lorrel is one of ours. She'll be there, only seventeen, she tells anyone who will listen." Kimberley turned to gesture with a come here wave. A silver haired gentleman hurried out of the office and came over to me.

"This is my own grandfather. Burt, meet Mr. Craigie. He has a message for Lorrel."

"That's a problem. Lorrel hasn't been here for almost six and a half months, sir. She vanished with a giggle, and her last words were, 'I am done waiting.'"

"Do you happen to remember the date?" I asked.

"Of course, it's very rare that one of ours leaves. Usually they stay, and it's their loved one who finds them here."

Burt returned to his office and came out with a calendar. He flipped through the pages, and when he got all the way back to January, he turned it toward me on the counter.

"There." He pointed to the square with the number nineteen on it. "See the notation?"

I nodded. "Somehow that's fitting. Grandpa Craigie passed away at sunset. Grandma's last words to him were, 'Go my love, find Lorrel. I want to meet her when we see each other again.' They knew everything about each other. Lorrel was a legend in our family."

Burt nodded, tracing the words in the calendar square. "Sometimes love transcends time and dimension. Your grandmother is a generous woman."

I pulled Grandpa's watch from my vest pocket. Flipping it open, I showed the miniature portrait to Burt.

His face paled and Kimberley pushed her chair behind him.

"Sit grandfather. You look like you've seen a ghost,"

He reached back and placed a hand on the armrest before collapsing into the leather seat cushion.

"She's my daughter's daughter." Burt pulled at a chain hiding under his golf shirt. Opening the locket there, he produced an identical portrait. On the other side of the locket, a woman who resembled him stared up at us. "Lorrel never told us."

"You didn't see her face?" I thought it should have been an easy thing.

"No, our ghosts are pale, ether really. And she didn't give us her real name. Susie never told us what Angel's legal first name was, we always called her by her nickname."

I leaned my elbows on the counter, my knees a little weak. I wish I hadn't promised not to write about this in my blog. Talk about six degrees of separation.

"Did you know her boyfriend? My grandfather?"

"Daniel? The stories I can tell. They were meant for each other. Daniel's family left barely a week after the accident."

"I'm here for a week. Can we talk?"

"About ghosts and love and laughter. I'll always remember the laughter," Burt said. "I want to share with you. You're family after all."

My eyes teared up. Grandpa always said his Lorrel had the most amazing laugh.

It wasn't until I returned to my home I figured out if his granddaughter was Lorrel, Burt must have been over one hundred and fifty years old. When I called and asked to speak to Burt, I was told he's just one of the ghosts at the Lost Love Hotel.