The Tree Goddess

by Tom Raimbault

  And to add insult to injury, her fiancé's closed-casket funeral would include the most hurtful words from Brian's mother, who did everything in her power to keep from falling apart. But she finally broke down in front of Sara with a seriously damaging accusation, “Maybe if you weren't such a backseat driver, my son would still be alive!” Unfortunately, Sara was the only living witness with no one to defend her.

  Chapter 26

  Seasons passed since Kevin's last visit home, which was the time when Sara advised him of the strange man who often stayed at his wife's house. The death and burial of Sara's beloved Brian had come and gone. And once again, Kevin was on another leave of duty for more sadness at home.

  At one time or another, you might take notice of a female neighbor or coworker who mysteriously develops plumpness along with a certain “glow”. The beauty of being with child cannot be masked, even in the earliest weeks. But are you bold enough to approach your neighbor or coworker and ask if she's pregnant? Consider the embarrassment if you were wrong!

  While home on another leave from duty, Kevin noticed this plumpness and certain “glow” from his wife. Unfortunately the “glow” lacked the appeal of something beautiful as Debbie remained disconnected and somewhat bitter towards her husband. Had it not been for Sara's mention during Kevin's last visit, along with many months of stewing suspicions overseas, he would have never suspected that his wife was pregnant with another man's child. He certainly had this suspicion, now. But there was just not enough evidence. And quite frankly, Kevin didn't want to deal with combat and stress at home. I suppose denial was easier to tolerate.

  For Debbie, she had reached the point in her affair of coming to terms with no longer loving Kevin. But strangely, she was unable to voice this realization to her husband. Only a halfhearted attempt of bitterness and despise would be manifested when she really should have confessed a love that had grown cold. Pregnant with another man's child and very much in love with this other man, Debbie held back the words she had rehearsed over and over again of, “I no longer love you.”

  But why did she hold back? She wanted the end of her marriage so badly! And sometimes the words nearly rolled out of her mouth during moments with Kevin.

  Her announcement was never made during Kevin's brief time home. Seeing her husband off at the airport, she hated him for his strong will and persistence. He gave his Debbie a kiss and reminded her of his love. Most men would divorce a wife who rejected any and all attempts for sex along with continuous animosity. But Kevin was a soldier who played the role very well. There was a war to be fought, and in such times the battle can be felt at home in a marriage. Kevin could go the extra mile; two, three; lengths that the average man could not.

  The scumbag remained supportive for many months of Debbie's pregnancy, citing that he understood the difficult challenge she was faced. It wasn't so easy to simply announce to a husband that a love had ended. For this reason, Debbie's boyfriend had promised that the next time Kevin came home from duty, he would stand beside the woman he loved along with the child they created together. As he worded it, Debbie needed a man in her life to take charge.

  And then one cold, early, winter morning—towards the end of the third trimester—the scumbag's salty Dodge Charger zipped into the driveway. Debbie watched as he approached the door in his leather jacket with sunglasses on. There was something in his walk that Debbie did not like.

  She opened the door to let “Freebird” in, “What's up? Aren't you on your way to work?”

  A “Freebird” has no reason to give explanations. He simply stated a need to move on. He did provide a cowardly excuse that he had ruined a marriage long enough. And although Debbie begged and pleaded while promising to break the news once Kevin returned, the scumbag's mind was made up. He was a real man who maintained his decision. The time had come for him to move on as he relied on partial lyrics from 1970s guitar rock to drive his point in.

  Then he left her, the wife of another man, pregnant and sobbing with an entire world crumbled to pieces.

  So vulnerable and standing in the middle of crisis, the only solution was to realize that she had been wrong. Perhaps this day had been foreseen the last time Kevin was home. Maybe the ignored precognition explained her inability to announce marriage over. Debbie could see it with such ever clarity as her lesson had truly been learned.

  She decided to give birth when the time had come and place the baby up for adoption. By the time Kevin would come home, the affair would be long over and the soldier would be welcomed with open arms.

  But much to her surprise, it was only hours after Debbie gave birth that Kevin made an unannounced visit! Not sure what to expect in his element of surprise, Kevin discovered Debbie in a very frazzled and worn appearance. And although receiving a most welcome hug and a seemingly change-of-heart since his last visit, Debbie cried much and claimed to be sick with the flu throughout his entire visit.

  It was bothersome for Kevin; some mystery was shrouded in his own home. He lay awake at night with the sensation of something being very wrong. How much more could he take? Was his life at home healthy for him?

  On the morning of his departure back to duty, Kevin rose early, woke his wife and announced his desire to end the marriage. And although she confessed to an affair and promised it had been long over, Kevin could see right through his wife. She was covering something, masking feelings and being untruthful.

  6 months of waiting for some sort of message or indication that he forgave her, Debbie had grown impatient, decided to file for divorce and place the home up for sale. Could those things really be done with the spouse overseas? Whatever the limitations, she felt it was best to initiate the ending of their life together. She hurt Kevin enough and the man would never heal.

  * * *

  Craig sat in his broker's office one afternoon, receiving a good talking to about casually flirting with an attractive, young, female buyer that was met at an open house. The severely, obese broker/owner sat behind his desk, wearing a checkered car salesman suit from the early 80s while puffing a fat cigar. Although corny, cheesy and the type of salesperson one wouldn't immediately trust, Jack Swieley had lived it all in the real estate business and was someone any young agent would want to know.

  He spoke to Craig, “Now, I ain't God's gift to women. I mean just look at me! But there came a time early in my career when a lady seller of mine seemed to take a liking to me. And she wasn't bad-looking either. I thought she liked me because I was a growing star in the business and was starting to make money and drive a nice car and all that.

  Well, one thing led to another and you can imagine what eventually happened. I figured this was just one of the many perks of my job and was going to enjoy it like everything else. Wanna know what happened?"

  Craig was expecting to hear that the woman's husband discovered the infidelity and nearly removed Mr. Swieley's unmentionables with a shotgun blast. So he voiced this.

  “No! Worse! When the time came to accept an offer on her property, she let me know that she wasn't going to report me to the police for rape. Since she was being so kind, she expected me to sell her house for free!”

  Craig didn't find his broker's tale of terror so realistic. “Come on! She could have just gone to the police and said that anyway. I could go to the police and say you threatened my life. My word against yours; who are they going to believe? There's no proof.”

  “Suit yourself if you don't think there's a problem with flirting, getting personal and sleeping with your clients. I'm just telling you that you never, never, never get close and personal with a client. Keep it business and professional. Address them as Mr. and Mrs. Seller. You're not there to be a friend, boyfriend, or anything else; just a Realtor to make a sale. Remember that!

  Oh… evidence? There was plenty on her sheets. Plus if any rumor surfaced out there of me attacking clients, it would hurt my business."

  Although appearing not to believe the possibility of tragic results for sleepi
ng with clients, Craig made an effort to conduct himself professionally. But then he met Mrs. Debbie Cordsmullen, soon to be divorced. She was several years older than him, very attractive and irresistibly sexy. And mindful of his resolution to maintain professionalism, Craig did his best to keep it strictly business, despite how challenging it was.

  “Do you have a baby Mrs. Cordsmullen?” Craig sat at the kitchen table with Debbie (Kevin's soon-to-be ex-wife), filling out the paperwork to put her house on the market. He could hear the sound of a baby crying in the background.

  “No! No baby!” She was unusually worried at Craig's mention.

  But Craig insisted, “I hear a baby crying.”

  Debbie gazed up as if listening. “Oh that? That you mean? That's the neighbor's baby crying next door. It sleeps next to the window and when the window is open, you can hear it crying.”

  Mr. Swieley always stressed the importance of making small talk with clients, just to maintain a casual environment. In addition, Craig wasn't comfortable calling a baby an “it”. He asked, “Boy or girl?”

  Debbie quickly replied, “Boy!”

  Craig checked off the paragraphs to the contract while explaining the terms and conditions; all cancellations must be done in writing, 6% commission for a successful sale, be out in an agreed time with the buyer on the day of closing. As the contract was filled out, the baby screamed louder and louder. Craig took pity on the crying, little one. “Wow! That guy sounds hungry!”

  Debbie nodded her head in agreement. Not open to small talk, it seemed as if she wanted to hurry things up and get Craig out of the house. Craig didn't mind as it was early evening and he just wanted to get home and relax.

  Once all was signed and explained, Craig was immediately shuffled out the door where the sound of the baby was no longer heard. He didn't care. Craig figured that if his client did, in fact, have a baby and was attempting to hide it, the situation was none of his business.

  Chapter 27

  Although Debbie's house was now listed and able to show to potential buyers, there was one, slight problem; a dark horror that remained in the house which needed to be removed. This is why she sat at the kitchen table, drinking an extra, strong glass of vodka and cranberry juice. The familiar buzz followed by mental numbing indicated that all things would soon be possible. When finished, a second glass of straight vodka was poured. It was brought down in the basement along with a garbage bag and small suit case. In the event that Debbie's emotions take over, a few gulps of vodka might put them on ice.

  It had been months since Debbie opened the 4ft x 4ft dry walled enclosure in the corner of the basement. It contained a panel door on the side that was secured by a simple latch with hinges. Opening the door, the sump pump could be accessed. But on this afternoon, there was something else for Debbie to access.

  The latch was disengaged and the panel door opened. Behind the sump pump was the naked and unfinished wall that was constructed by large, industrial-sized bricks. The mortar of one had been chiseled through some months before, so that one of the large bricks could be removed.

  Debbie pulled out the large brick; the rotting stench gave alarm to a crypt which had been disturbed. But the smell was ignored as Debbie's heart ached and her soul was jolted by the saddening realization of her mistake. In a drunken sincerity, she cried and apologized while her mind traveled back to that fateful day in winter when Kevin made a surprise visit home.

  It was in the coldest death of winter when Debbie's water broke which soon followed serious labor pains. No one knew of the pregnancy as she had covered it up quite well with winter coats. And she wasn't about to check into the hospital so that bills would be incurred along with evidence of her mistake claimed to insurance. Debbie planned to privately deliver at home, anonymously drop the baby off at a safe haven and then clean her life up for good.

  Life is filled with irony! Not many hours after delivering, Debbie rested some, cleaned up and was about to leave for the safe haven. But Kevin had surprised her with an unannounced visit and took a taxi cab home! Obviously, the man was suspicious of his wife and saw the perfect opportunity of an inconsistently-timed leave-of-absence to check on Debbie's activities.

  In such an inconvenient irony, Debbie had to wonder why Kevin was given so much ample leave-of-absence. Most families sorely miss a loved one while he or she fights overseas for two or three years while waiting for a much needed leave-of-absence. But Kevin was given time away from war, it seemed, nearly twice a year! What was he doing home?

  What could Debbie do? The baby cried in her arms as the soldier home from duty could be seen through the window, removing luggage from the trunk of the cab!

  The child's life was quickly extinguished, body thrown in the 4ft x 4ft dry walled enclosure in the corner of the basement. By the time the front door had opened, Debbie ran upstairs to greet her husband. But somehow he knew; somehow Kevin was aware of things not right.

  * * *

  Months later, numbed by excessive vodka and cranberry, Debbie knelt within the sump pump enclosure, crying before the disturbed crypt at the sight of her exhumed baby. “I'm so sorry; I'm so sorry!”

  Rubber gloves were stretched over Debbie's hands and the decayed baby was pulled out from the wall. The slimy stench was enough to make one gag. The child was now a lifeless skeleton with perhaps a few shreds of remaining organic matter, carrion at most.

  And then the stiffness of tiny bones suddenly creaked as it gave the appearance of self movement. The skull partially covered in wasted tissue turned on its own so that the shriveled, rotting eyes looked directly at Mommy. The skeleton's jaw opened to produce the shrilling sound of an angry baby, crying!

  Louder and louder with a fury that would tell the tale of months abandoned, the skeletal remains continued to cry. It was a hellish fright for Debbie, as she dropped it on the floor and backed out of the sump pump enclosure while screaming in a way that only drunkenness could produce.

  Instinctively, Debbie ran up to the main level; the psychological distance of stairs and a closed door provided safety. It was such an unreal phenomenon that called for desperate measures. And it's amazing how one is prepared for such an experience! Debbie flashed open the coat closet where she removed an unused, wire coat hanger. Unwinding it from factory form, she descended into the basement where the reality of something so unreal continued to be heard.

  Imagine bringing oneself to pick up that sort of anomaly! Made possible by a few gulps of vodka, the mysterious life was choked from the screaming, infant skeleton. The wire coat hanger was left around the neck bone as a tourniquet. Debbie placed her baby in the suitcase along with the rubber gloves and zipped it up. By the time it was temporarily placed back in the sump pump enclosure, the possibility of a very, bizarre hallucination was considered. For months she supposed the occasional, heard crying to be guilt-induced hallucinations. But they were so bad that even the Realtor heard them. It would soon be over. Debbie simply needed rest after the experience, along with some hours before driving as drunkenness would certainly result in a pullover by police.

  Awakening some hours later, Debbie laid on the family room sofa upstairs. It was now dark and time to execute the 2nd phase of the plan. A shovel was placed in the trunk of her vehicle. Then she entered the basement in fright and opened the sump pump enclosure to remove the sealed suit case to be carried up into the garage.

  A drive up Mapleview Road, through town, past the Trivelli House; Debbie pulled into the wayside entrance of the Hidden Lake Forest Preserve. Tonight would be a very, dark and lengthy hike through a nightmarish world. Never a fan of walking through the woods, she did recall a time earlier in life of following a path with friends that hugged around a lake and headed west into deep forest.

  Debbie speculated that walking further into the woods would reduce the possibility of the unmarked grave's discovery by hikers and nature lovers. It was a good hour of exhaustive travel, alone in the darkness with the corpse of her child she had murdered, twic
e. Only in the realm of Hell were such symbolic journeys taken. Creatures of the night stirred in darkness while the skeletal remains in the suitcase sometimes felt to have moved.

  Feeling that further travel was no longer possible, Debbie ventured a few feet off the path and began the process of digging the hole. Once large enough, the suitcase was dropped in, dirt covered and then the shovel carried some distance to be discarded elsewhere in the forest. Then she hiked back to the car.

  It was some hours past midnight by the time Debbie returned home. Two bottles of water were guzzled along with some Aspirin for a headache. And while drifting off into slumber, dreams would bring her back to the darkened forest where the skeletal baby's screams echoed throughout the trees. By dawn, she had terrifying nightmares of the skeletal baby, screaming, outside her bedroom window.

  Chapter 28

  Clients receive one or two open houses during their time listed with Jack Swieley Realty. With such a large collection of inventory, it isn't possible for two agents to conduct open houses for every home, every weekend! And today just so happened to be Debbie's Sunday for an open house, hosted by Jack Swieley Realty and conducted by the young agent, Craig.

  Mr. Swieley had taught Craig well. Following the recommended guidelines, the seller was asked to leave for the afternoon; all lights were turned on; all closets opened; and person's touring the home were required to register upon entering. In addition, small talk was made with people and highlights of the home were pointed out.

  But Craig had an additional rule created that was based on observation. Some people enter a home and walk around with eyes focused on windows, room size and usually make comments such as, “We can put the table here…The sofa would look good over there.” These people in Craig's mind were to be approached and treated as interested buyers.

  Then there are people who come in the house and study the furniture, the decorating, family portraits and then make comments such as, “The lay out is opposite of ours…I can't believe they made this room the master bedroom.” In Craig's conclusion, these were nosey neighbors that had no interest in purchasing a home in the neighborhood as they already had one. A simple, “Thanks for stopping by.” was the only thing needed.