Looking for her Lady (Griselda)

Rachel listened but did not interrupt the two of the "dead" talking.

Beryl began drawing in the sand with her fingers. She was quick, she was... good, too. What she drew was the skyline, minus all buildings over 3 stories, a small cemetery and the city was so much smaller. There was no kiddie park, no big roads or highways, no cars... It looked like a small town, overgrown with trees and houses. Not the city it was today. Not by a long shot.

She was watching, moving a little closer. She was trying to see the details, but she was also waiting to see the details of the box itself.

She started drawing the box last. It appeared small, able to be held with two hands. But the way she brought out the detail in the sand was truly a feat. Soon, it was finished, minus the color, of course and Beryl stepped away.

She crouched so she could commit it to memory. In fact, this was probably going to take quite a bit of work to find -- especially if it was that old.

"All right. This might take a little while to find. Is there a way I can contact you so that we can look together?"

She gave a bit of a shrug. "I... I'll be at the cemetery."

She nodded at that and looked at the ghost.

"I think it's not here anymore. Someone, I think, took it. A while ago. Have you seen anyone other than me around here?"

She pointed a long, spindly finger at Rachel.

She nodded.

"Anyone else?"

"No, not that I remember," she shook her head, half sobbing.

She nodded.

"Okay. Okay, Beryl. It's all right."

She nodded, digging in the sand again. "I didn't see my husband's tomb."

She blinked.

"Who is your husband?"

"Thomas... Thomas Browning. I need to find his tomb."

"Okay. When was he born, Beryl?"

"1852," she said, as sand went flying behind her. "He was born in Atlanta."

She paused for a second...then she nodded.

"All right, Beryl. Can you tell me what he looks like?"

"Her height," she pointed again to Rachel. "But his hair was black as night. Eyes as blue as the blue bird. He had features like a bird-- wiry, thin. But he was strong. He was too strong."

Rachel blinked at her words, glancing to Rai but still staying back and out of the way as much as she could.

She nodded.

"All right. Did he ever say or do anything strange?"

"He didn't speak much. But he was unusually strong, full of rage. Rumor had it that he was into hallucinogens or other medications or even alcohol. But, I never saw him do any of that."

She nodded.

"All right. Can you show me where you used to live?"

"It's not here anymore," she said, as she pointed to a bluff over the beach about a mile to the south. "The house was there. But it's not there anymore."

She nodded.

"Can you show me where it used to be? Exactly?"

"Yes," she nodded, looking at Rachel once more. "Bring her."

Beryl turned and began to walk up the beach, only slightly unsteady on her feet. She easily found a path up and back toward the grass from the sand. It was eroded and hard to spot if you didn't know what to look for. And she led them for a mile or so, up toward the rocky bluff.