Wearing nothing more than a thin, cotton nightdress, she got up and slowly made her way over to the closet. The bifold door was still ajar and all she could see were the dozens of shoes lined off neatly inside and clothing hanging from the steel rod. Then, as she went to turn, something caught the corner of her eye and she faced the closet again, focusing downwards towards the rows of shoes, specifically, her sneakers. For a moment, she wondered if her eyes were deceiving her, as slowly, but surely, she saw the tied laces she never unties before taking off her sneakers, simultaneously untie themselves. She gasped; her eyes glued to the action in front of her. Then, one by one, she saw the laces being re-tied into even neater knots than before. Perfect, little knots. Terrified, she screamed, yanked open the bedroom door and ran for her parents’ room. By the time she arrived, her father was attempting to get out of bed as he’d heard her scream and her mother was sitting up.
“Dad! Mom! There’s something freaky going on in my room!” Ashley exclaimed.
“What are you talking about, child?” Cindy appeared to be more annoyed than concerned.
John went to his daughter and held her. “What happened, Ash?”
“I heard the voice of a woman whisper in my ear while I was asleep! It’s the second time I heard that same voice. I heard it earlier today too. Then, my closet…my sneakers…”
“What about your sneakers, Ashley?” Cindy got up.
Ashley looked into her father’s eyes. “The laces were all moving by themselves!”
“Nonsense!” Cindy abruptly raised her hands.
“It’s not! I saw the laces being loosed, then tied again and I wasn’t the one who was doing it!”
“Who was it then?” Cindy’s arms were now folded.
“It happened all by itself. Honest, Dad! I’m not lying.”
Not knowing what to make of his daughter’s claims, John walked with her back to her bedroom and Cindy reluctantly trailed behind them.
John flipped the light switch on and looked around the room. Then, he walked over to the closet and looked at the shoes. “What did you say happened in here?” he asked.
“My sneakers’ laces were moving as if someone was untying then tying them again. It was freaky, and it’s the truth! I swear!” She glanced at her mother before turning to her father again.
“You sure you weren’t dreaming?” he asked.
“I was wide awake and I know what I saw!”
He moved away from the closet and looked around the room again; even knelt down and checked under the bed for God knows what.
Standing up again, he arched a brow. “Well, there’s nothing here, Ash. All I can think is maybe you thought you were awake, but were really dreaming. Why don’t you go back to bed and if you want, just for the night, you can keep the lights on?”
Ashley wasn’t sure what to think or how to respond.
Cindy sighed. “Let me go back to bed. I can’t afford to lose any sleep. Ashley, go back to bed and get this nonsense out of your mind.”
She walked out of the room, leaving Ashley and her husband standing there.
John put his arm around Ashley’s shoulder. “Get some sleep, honey. There’s nothing for you to be afraid of. With the stress of the move, anything is possible, you know?”
She slowly nodded.
“I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” He kissed her forehead.
“Okay, Dad.”
Thinking that her father’s assumptions might be right, Ashley tried to dismiss what happened and decided to focus on getting back to sleep.
After flipping off the light switch, she realized the room was not as cold as it was when she’d woken up. She went back to bed, leaving the lamp on, and pulled the covers up to her chest. Taking a deep breath in, she closed her eyes and invited sleep to come her way. The only sound she heard was the quiet buzzing of the standing, oscillating fan on her left.
After a few minutes, she felt herself drifting off again, when suddenly, right out of the blue, she heard that voice again—nothing but a whisper. But this time, she felt its breath, and even smelled it. It bore the stench of a damp rag or something of the sort. Ashley opened her eyes, instinctively looked to her right and beheld a blonde woman lying next to her. She had long, straight hair and wore a little beige dress with rips throughout. The woman appeared to be looking up toward the ceiling. Then, as if she’d felt Ashley’s horrified stare, she slowly turned and looked her way, exposing a dark, gaping hole where her left eye should’ve been and a right eye swollen shut. Her pasty skin was discolored by something resembling mud and her lips were cracked and slightly bleeding.
As if plastered to the bed, Ashley released a spine-chilling scream which nearly took the roof off the house.
Within seconds, John and Cindy had rushed to her room. Cindy promptly switched on the light and to their surprise, Ashley was lying in bed, gazing up toward the ceiling and appeared to be in a state of shock.
Cindy hurried to her side. “Ashley, what’s the matter?” The girl’s eyes were as wide as a soccer field. John quickly checked the room, then darted out down the stairs to see if there’d been an intruder.
“Mom!” Ashley whispered loudly, not daring to turn to her right again, but instead shifting her eyes in that direction. Paralyzed by fear, she contemplated seeing the dreadful sight a second time.
“What? What happened?” Cindy prodded.
Ashley squeezed her eyes shut just for a moment, then opened them again and said, still in a whisper, “Look at her. She’s lying next to me.”
Cindy looked at the bed. “Look at who? Who are you talking about? Ashley, are you going insane?”
“Cindy!” John snarled as he entered the room. “Would you watch what you’re saying to her?”
Cindy got up suddenly. “You handle her, then, since you’re so good at it! Some people will do anything— anything at all to have their way.” She peered down at Ashley, who’d just mustered the courage to turn her head in the direction she dreaded. “Is this your way of trying to convince your father to return to Colonsboro? Do you miss your friends that much, Ashley? Is that it? Huh?”
“No!” Ashley sat up. “I saw a woman in my bed, lying right there!” She pointed. “She looked…dead.”
John shook his head, then combed his fingers through his hair. He looked exhausted. “You saw a woman? In your bed?”
Slightly trembling, Ashley quickly nodded. “I know how this sounds, Dad, but I’m not crazy and I’m not doing any of this for attention. You’ve gotta believe me!”
He sat down next to her. “Do you wanna sleep in our room?”
“Our room?” Cindy grimaced.
“Yes, our room.” John looked Cindy in the face. It was obvious his patience was wearing thin with her.
“Yes, Dad,” Ashley replied.
Cindy walked ahead of them and returned to their bedroom. Ashley brought along her pillow and blanket, and made a bed on the floor of her parents’ room.
5
_________________
Two days later
Monday morning… 8:20 a.m.
Spiffily dressed for work and wearing photochromic sunglasses, John Morrison backed out of his driveway. He’d left Cindy upstairs having a bath and Ashley fast asleep. After reversing onto the road, he looked to his right at the Cullens’ house and noticed their screen door adjacent to the driveway was slightly ajar. Desiring to do what he knew his wife would not approve of, he glanced back at his own house, then without another thought, drove straight up onto the Cullens’ driveway. He left the car running as he quickly headed to the door.
A whiff of fried eggs and bacon welcomed him as he approached the screen. Though he couldn’t see clearly through it, he could hear light rummaging in the kitchen and decided to knock.
“Who’s there?” He heard a female reply.
“I’m John Morrison. Your neighbor across the street,” he said as quietly as he could, glancing back again at his house. He wondered for a moment if Cindy was right
there watching him through their front window, but quickly dismissed the thought. There’s no way she would’ve finished her bath already. The perfectionist in her usually kept her in the bathtub for a rather long time.
Sara opened the screen door wider. “Mister Morrison. Good morning! Please come in.”
John stepped inside.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Sara Cullen.”
They shook hands.
Sara noticed John seemed a bit tense or in some sort of a rush.
“I’m sorry I missed you the other day when you came over,” he said. “I wanted to apologize for my wife’s behavior. She’s a really nice person; just sometimes doesn’t know how to show it.”
“Think nothing of it. I completely understand.” Sara smiled.
“We have a seventeen-year-old daughter. Her name’s Ashley. I’m sure you’ll get to meet her really soon.”
“That’s good to know.”
Rosie emerged from her bedroom with little Max keenly at her side. The dog had been sleeping in her room ever since he’d become a part of the family. “Morning,” she said, not immediately recognizing the man standing near their kitchen door.
“This is our new neighbor, Pumpkin. Mister Morrison,” Sara told her. She looked at him as Rosie approached. “This is my granddaughter, Rosie.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Rosie. I’m sure you and my daughter, Ashley, will hit it off,” John said. “Mrs. Cullen, it’s been a real pleasure meeting you and Rosie, but I have to go now. This is my first day on my new job.”
“Oh, you don’t want to be late, especially on your first day!”
He smiled.
“And please call me, Sara. My daughter, Mira lives here with us as well. She’s a doctor at Caring Hands Clinic right up there on Soxton Avenue, but she’s away now. Should be back in a couple of days. I hope you’ll get to meet her soon.”
“That would be nice…and please call me, John.” He started out the door. “Bye, Rosie.”
“Bye,” Rosie replied.
John got into his car and pulled away. He felt good about what he’d done, even though he knew Cindy would be miffed. He sometimes wondered what life would’ve been like if he’d listened to his dear mother, who’d passed on four years earlier, when she begged him not to marry “that woman”. She never thought Cindy was the right one for him, though they’d been college sweethearts for two years and graduated together. It explains their rather long courtship, for despite Cindy’s eagerness for marriage, he strung her along for six years after they’d graduated and both landed good jobs. His repeated excuse was “we have to save our pennies for our future together. A wedding lasts a day, but life goes on after that.” There was no telling if she believed his reasoning or not, but he’d procrastinated for a long time due to his mother’s wishes and the constant arguments they had over Cindy’s “unwarranted jealousy”. Then after one of their heated arguments, it was apparent that Cindy might actually walk away for good that time and he quenched her anger with a proposal—on bended knee. Undoubtedly, she was a handful, but John couldn’t deny the fact that he loved her. He loved his mother and respected her viewpoints, but in the end, he knew his mother couldn’t give him what Cindy could; couldn’t make him feel inside the way Cindy did. He needed “that woman”—insanely jealous or not; controlling or not, and he’d do whatever it took to make her stay.
That’s the reason for their abrupt move to Mizpah. All Cindy’s idea. She felt she was losing him somehow—that their marriage was in jeopardy and they were growing apart. She’d given him an ultimatum, but had no idea that he only acceded for Ashley’s sake. She had one more year in high school, before going off to college and he didn’t want to disrupt her life due to selfish reasons. He’d come to terms with the fact that he’d not been happy in his marriage for years—probably from the beginning. But his parents stuck it out for forty-five years before his father died, and he figured if they could make it work, he should be able to hold his family together too.
Sighing as thoughts of Cindy sailed through his mind, he dropped the sun visor and cruised down the highway.
* * *
“Want orange juice or milk to go with that?” Sara asked Rosie who’d climbed the stool at the kitchen counter. A plate of eggs, bacon and toast had been placed in front of her.
“Juice, please.” Rosie took a bite of her toast. “He seems really nice,” she added, as Sara went to the refrigerator. Max was wagging his tail happily as he dove into his bowl of goodies Sara had waiting for him.
“He does. Doesn’t he? I bet his daughter is just as nice.” Sara poured out the orange juice and set it next to Rosie’s plate.
“I doubt that.”
Sara frowned. “Why’d you say that?”
“Because girls can sometimes take right after their moms, like I take after my mom.”
Sara smiled. “That’s not always the case, Pumpkin. My mom and I were very different—almost like night and day. We had almost nothing in common and people always said I took right after my Dad.”
“Was she anything like Mrs. Morrison?” Rosie asked with her mouth full.
“Oh, no! My mom was quite nice. She just wasn’t very forthcoming with her feelings. I guess you can say she was rather reserved. Not that she didn’t trust people or anything like that. I think it was more of a confidence issue. She was raised in an orphanage; never knew her parents. Maybe her identity was lost in the mystery of her past.”
“I see.” Rosie nodded. “Maybe you’re right, then. Ashley or whatever her name is, might be pretty cool. Time will tell though.”
Sara stood near the screen door, looking out and sipping her coffee.
6
_________________
Mira took a seat in the departure hall approximately fifteen feet away from where airport personnel were stationed. The boarding call would be made shortly. She rested her leather purse on her lap as Bobby placed their carry-on luggage on the floor.
Noticing a troubled expression on her face, he sat next to her. “Are you okay?” he asked.
She glanced his way. “Sure. Everything’s perfect.”
“Mira, it’s me you’re talking to.”
This time, she looked into his eyes; those eyes of his that seemed to penetrate her soul. Knowing she couldn’t fool him, she sighed. “I think that’s the problem, Bobby. Everything’s too perfect.”
“What do you mean?”
“I guess I’m not used to things–life–being this way. I feel like something’s gotta go wrong to mess it all up.”
Bobby wasn’t sure how to process what he was hearing and Mira could tell.
“It’s just that on the way to the airport, my mind flashed on Dad and how I wish he’d lived to see us make this big step. He really liked you, Bobby.”
He lowered his head a moment, feeling a bit emotional inside. He’d thought of Michael as another father and had come to love him as such. “I know, honey. I’m sure he’ll be watching from up there though.” He glanced up, and smiled.
“Yeah. I also started to reminisce on my and Rosie’s flight from L.A. when we were on our way to visit my parents. She was so excited to see them; we both were. Yet, we had no idea that it would be the last vacation we’d ever get to spend with my dad. He was sick and I had absolutely no idea. When he died, I just couldn’t process it—how he could be here one minute and gone the next; how we could all be so happy one minute and overwhelmed by sadness the next. Our visit home was supposed to be a fun one, Bobby. Everything was perfect for a while, then it’s like things changed in a blink of an eye. Can’t you see what I’m saying?”
He felt her pain. “I know. You’re thinking something bad might happen now that we’re finally at this point in our lives.” He knew how long it had taken them to get there and refused to think it all would be in vain. “That’s your fear talking, Mira.” He took her hand and gently gripped it. “That’s all it is. It’s not reality.”
“How can you be s
ure?” Her eyes pleaded for a reasonable answer.
He placed the hand he held on his heart. “Because I feel it in here.”
What should have been a comforting moment added to Mira’s dread when the vision of the death angel hovering over Bobby in the hospital three years earlier flashed into her mind. She’d seen it around him once after that when they’d gone one night to free the spirits that were trapped inside that house in Newport—what they’d come to know as The Disappearing House. She’d never spoken a word to him about it and never intended to. Instead, she’d blocked it from her mind, refusing to accept it as fate, though it was harder when she saw the death angel the second time. She remembered thinking, we’re all gonna die someday, and maybe she was seeing the entity purely because of her gift—not that it meant Bobby would pass away anytime soon. She’d tried convincing herself that he could live to be a ripe old age before death would ever visit him for the final time. That was the only way Mira could go on without constantly thinking the man she loved would be snatched away from her at such a young age. Surely, the heavens would not allow her to experience such grief a second time around before many more years had passed in between. How could she ever handle it if it were any other way?
She slid her hand away from Bobby’s chest and gazed into the distance. She didn’t want to attract anyone’s attention, as the lobby was packed with waiting travelers.
“Mira…” Bobby said, softly.
With somber eyes, she looked his way and he took her hand again, keeping it on his lap.
“Nothing is gonna go wrong. I want you to trust me, okay?”
To satisfy him, she nodded, but still wasn’t so sure.
“I need you to think positive thoughts and not give in to the negative ones. Believe me, you and I haven’t come this far to be derailed. We’re gonna get married and have a beautiful life together. Think of that gorgeous wedding dress you bought and how stunning you’re gonna look in it.”
The Cornelius Saga Series Box Set 2 Page 21
