"Thanks, Sonia." Solange was consoled by her words.
5
Disbelief
Taylor was a tall, curvaceous blonde with a face that most men would agree belonged on the cover of a big name magazine.
"Thanks for coming, Taylor," Trent said, inviting her inside.
"No problem at all. Where is she?" Taylor asked.
"Upstairs with the baby."
"I planned to come by anyway since the last I saw of them was at the hospital. Nice place you've got here, by the way."
"Thanks." Trent cleared his throat. "Well, I have to go now; I can't be late for the meeting." His coat was tossed across his briefcase as he headed out the door. "Remember to lock the top latch," he said.
"I will," Taylor said behind him before shutting the door.
"There you are." Taylor smiled, entering the nursery.
Tina had just rested the baby in his crib. "Hey, how are you?"
They both embraced.
"I'm sorry that Trent thought you had nothing better to do than baby-sit me," Tina smirked.
"He's just concerned; that's all. You should be glad you have a man like that who really cares about you," Taylor replied. "Aw… he's so beautiful, Tina." Taylor gently touched the baby's arm. "Is he quiet?"
"Yeah. Hardly ever cries — even at night. He's no trouble at all," Tina vouched.
"Aren't you doubly lucky? Perfect man and perfect child."
"No one's perfect, Taylor." Tina shoved her hands into the back pockets of her skinny jeans and walked over to the couch in the corner of the room.
She sat down first and Taylor joined her.
"This nursery is gorgeous. I like the color combinations — just perfect for a boy," Taylor said, scanning the room.
"Is perfect your new best word now?" Tina remarked.
"I did use that like three times in a row, didn't I?"
"Uh… ya."
"So what's this all about… this episode Trent mentioned you had yesterday?" Taylor asked.
"Episode? Is that what he called it?"
"Not quite. Tell me… how have you been since having the baby?"
"Are you my therapist now?" Tina glared. "Look Taylor, I don't know why you agreed to make such a long drive out here over Trent's unwarranted paranoia concerning me. I don't have post-partum depression, I'm certainly not crazy, and I definitely don't need anyone baby-sitting me!"
"Tina, lower your voice! You don't want to startle the baby." Taylor saw that she was getting agitated.
Tina glanced over at the child. He was quietly sucking his thumb.
"What I don't understand is why you're so angry," Taylor continued. "Trent told me that you blacked out yesterday while he was gone and you refused to go to the doctor. I'm here because he just wanted to make sure that you and baby Foster are fine while he's at the office. He mentioned that he offered to hire help, but you won't allow it. That's why he asked me to come over today since he knew you'd never throw me out of the house."
Tina cracked a smile. "You're right, Taylor. I wouldn’t throw you out of the house. I'd toss you through a window!" She threw her arm across her friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry I snapped at you."
"You are?"
"Yes, I am."
Taylor smiled back. "Then it's water under the bridge, best friend."
Tina removed her arm again, then fiddled with her fingers on her lap. "So did Trent mention anything else to you about yesterday?"
Taylor frowned. "No… Is there something I should know?"
Tina got up and pulled her out of the room. They went into the master bedroom and sat on the bed. "I saw something really terrifying yesterday," she spoke almost in a whisper — the logic of which Taylor, at that moment, did not understand.
"You saw something? Like what?"
"Hooded people," Tina's eyes glared with intensity. "They had the whole house surrounded and then I saw Little Foster levitate from the bed all the way up towards the ceiling. They were doing it."
Taylor scowled. "Tina, I don't understand what you're saying. What hooded people are you talking about and what's this about the baby levitating?"
Tina got up and peered out of the window down at the yard below and then out into the woods. "I don't know where they came from. They just stood around the house for the longest time, then after the baby came down from the ceiling, I guess that's when I blacked out. When I woke up, they were gone. How could I black out like that leaving my baby completely defenseless?" She sought the answer from her friend.
Looking at Tina, Taylor now seriously wondered about her state of mind.
"I know it all sounds crazy," Tina said, rushing back over to the bed and staring at Taylor eyeball to eyeball. "If someone had told me this story, I would've thought they were totally out of their mind, but I swear to you that I'm not crazy. Everything I said was the truth. Trent doesn't believe me."
"Tina…"
"Did you notice anything about Foster today that was different from when you first saw him at the hospital?" Tina interjected.
Taylor thought for a moment. "The only thing I noticed was how well he seemed to be growing."
"Is that it?"
"I… think so."
Tina started to pull her friend again. "Come. Let me show you something."
She led the way back into the nursery and over to the crib.
Instinctively, Taylor smiled down at Little Foster who was looking up at them.
"Look at his hair," Tina said firmly.
Taylor got a closer look. "Wow! It's growing so well! It's almost touching the tip of his shoulders! I knew when I first saw him today that there was something different about him — other than the fact that he's growing well overall, but I wasn't sure," Taylor responded.
Tina looked at her. "Do you think it's normal for a newborn's hair to grow at such a rapid rate?"
Taylor wasn't sure how to respond. "I don't know." She shrugged. "When is he due for his visit to the pediatrician?"
"Not for another nine days," Tina replied.
"Look," Taylor gently gripped Tina by the shoulders, "wait until then and you'll get all the answers you need concerning the baby. If you can't wait 'til then, call the doctor and ask him if it's normal."
Tina slowly nodded.
"As for the other thing you mentioned… I don't know what to say. Did you call the police?" Taylor asked.
"I tried, but none of the phones would work. Surprisingly, they worked just fine after it was all over."
"Well, did you call then? They could've checked the woods or something even after these people you mentioned had left."
"No, I didn't," Tina admitted. "After I spoke to Trent about what happened and he just brushed the whole thing off like I was a nut-case or something, I didn't bother. If he didn't believe my seemingly far-fetched story, do you seriously think the police would have? They probably would've laughed in my face."
"All I can say to you is if you see anyone on this property again that seems like they might pose any kind of threat — hooded figures or not — call the police as soon as you can and don't worry about their snickering. They'd still have to do their jobs and check the surrounding area," Taylor noted.
"I was thinking of getting a gun."
"A gun? Oh, I wouldn't advise you to do that Tina. I, personally, am afraid of guns. You don't want it to turn into a situation where you get so edgy about everyone who enters the yard and then you mistakenly shoot the wrong person. It happened to other people," Taylor said.
"I guess you're right," Tina replied. "But what should I do for protection?"
"Get pepper spray or something."
"Really? Pepper spray? For a couple hundred hooded people?"
Taylor shrugged. "Well, if you think about it… one gun, unless it's a machine gun or something, can't take down a couple hundred people at once."
Tina sighed.
"Don't worry, Tina. Everything will be all right. I don't think you have anything to worry about. You and your fa
mily are totally safe and secure in this house. Okay?"
"Okay," Tina hesitated.
"Try not to focus on that stuff," Taylor added, unsure if she believed the story as Tina told it. She knew her friend well enough to know that she saw something out there or at least believed she saw everything she described. Nevertheless, she would always be there for her — kooky or not; hooded figures and levitation stories or not.
* * *
Trent picked up the phone. "Will, can I see you in my office for a minute?" He asked.
"Sure thing, sir," Will Salstrom replied.
In a matter of moments, the thirty-year-old, husky accounts executive of dark brown complexion — almost Indian looking — entered Trent's office. Trent quickly invited him to sit.
"So how do you think the meeting went today?" Trent asked eagerly.
"I think you clearly laid out the advantages they would realize by investing with us, sir," Will started. "I'm almost a hundred percent convinced they already had their minds made up before they said they were gonna think about it and get back. My theory is they just didn't wanna jump on it so quickly, letting us see that they were elated by the offer. You know how that goes."
"I certainly do, Will. I certainly do." Trent smiled widely, proud of Will's keen observations. He never regretted assigning Will to the senior accounts position that he had so readily and proficiently filled. Someone had to take over some of Peter's responsibilities after his sudden demise. "Look, I called you in here for more than just your take on the meeting," Trent went on.
"Sir?"
"I don’t know if I mentioned it to you, but I had asked Tina to marry me some months back and we decided to wait until the baby came."
"No, sir. I don't recall you mentioning it to me," Will responded. "That's understandable though, considering all the things that's been going on here at the office — the recent tragedies and all. How's the little one doing, by the way?"
"He's doing real fine. Thanks for asking," Trent replied. "Well, I was wondering, if you don't mind, I mean… if it's no inconvenience to you… if you'd be my best man at the wedding." Trent finally said.
Will's face lit up like the sun. "Wow, sir! Me? You want me to be your best man?"
"Sure," Trent answered. "We've known each other for a while and always had a decent rapport."
"Yes. I will, sir! I'm truly honored that you asked," he grinned.
"Will, the truth is… I don't have a lot of friends, but very many acquaintances. Over the years, I've come to consider you a good friend. You've always been loyal to this company and to me, personally. When the others were ready to walk out of here after all the murders — and understandably so — you don't know how much it meant when you came to me and said you were here for the long haul; that this is more than just a job to you. You said it was your purpose. I can't tell you how much your commitment means to me. I really appreciate that, Will." Trent spoke passionately.
Will was silently overwhelmed. He didn’t know that his boss had even noticed. "Sir, I'm always glad to help out in any way I can and I really appreciate you telling me that."
Trent cleared his throat and started to arrange a few files on his desk. "Well, the wedding is scheduled for September fifteenth. I hope that's not too short of a notice for you."
"No, sir. Not at all. That's fine," Will replied.
Trent went on to discuss more details with Will, including the fact that he was going to take ten days off and would need him to handle things until he returned. Trent was relieved that he had secured a best man for the wedding, yet, he couldn't help but wish that things had turned out differently for Peter — that he was alive and they were still best buds. He reminisced on their college years and how they had planned to be the best man at each other's wedding — among other things. However, fate had not permitted it. Peter was long gone.
6
Decisions, Decisions
The warm summer sun pushed through the slight rift in the curtains. Tina could hear the birds chirping outside and the fresh draft on the forest trees climbed up to her nose. She looked over at Trent who was still in dreamland and she smiled. Her prince charming had been at home for almost a week straight and was so good with the baby. He hardly let her lift a finger except for breast-feeding Little Foster who had a ravishing appetite for a newborn.
Tina tossed the sheet aside and climbed out of bed. The baby monitor sitting on the night-stand was quiet. Little Foster had only gotten up once that night for his feeding and Tina was feeling well-rested and somewhat energetic that morning.
Upon entering the nursery, she was shocked at the sight of a large, black mass leaning into the crib. The baby was smiling and smacking its lips - seemingly interacting with the shapeless blob.
The shrieking scream that escaped Tina's lungs pierced Trent's dreamless sleep and he sprung out of bed and rushed to find her. When he got to the door of the nursery, he saw Tina standing near the crib, holding the baby closely and weeping uncontrollably.
"What's wrong?" He demanded.
She could barely form the words. "Something…. something was looming over the baby, Trent."
"What?"
"A huge, black mass was leaning into the crib over the baby," she returned, her eyes filled with tears. Someone or something's trying to harm our child, Trent!"
Trent quickly embraced her. "It's all right, honey," he said, looking into her eyes and wiping her tears. "The baby's fine now. I'll take him." He reached for the infant.
"No! He's not fine. They're trying to hurt him!" She held onto the baby tightly; Trent was concerned that maybe a little too tightly. The child started to cry.
"Tina, I'll take him now." Trent reached again and gently took Little Foster after Tina slowly released her grip. "Lie down now and get some more rest. I'll tend to him."
Tina stared back at him — her eyes piercing with fear and angst. "Are you patronizing me, Trent? Are you patronizing me?!"
"I'm not, honey. I wouldn't do that," Trent replied cautiously.
"I tell you that someone is trying to harm our baby and you act as if I told you something pleasant! I'm getting out of here. I'm taking the baby and we're moving away from this eerie place. I never should've agreed to stay here and I never should've given up my apartment either!" She snarled.
"Tina, calm down. You're not thinking rationally," Trent said. "I'm taking you to a doctor — someone who can help you. You haven't been the same since you had the baby."
"I'm not going anywhere, Trent Matheson, except away from here! You can't stop me!"
"Tina, I can't allow you to take the baby. I don’t want us to fight like this, but you need help and in your condition right now, I cannot and will not allow you to take our baby."
"Give him to me!" Tina shouted, reaching for the child. "If you don't hand him over right now, Trent Matheson, I'm calling the police!"
"Go right ahead, Tina. What will you tell them, huh? The same story you told me about the strange people and the black mass, and Little Foster floating in the air?" Trent asked. "Well, go ahead then and tell them. I'm trying to get you to willingly see a psychiatrist, but when they hear your ramblings, they will arrest you and drive you directly over to a mental institution."
Tina continued glaring at him — her eyes glassy again like they were when she first claimed to have seen the hooded figures.
"Please honey," Trent gently touched her arm. "Please go get ready. I will make a couple of calls and we're going to get you some help."
Tina grudgingly conceded, feeling that everything he said about the police not believing her was most likely accurate. Furthermore, she was now beginning to wonder if she was, in fact, losing her sanity — if all those things she saw were just figments of her imagination. Trent watched her head into the bathroom, then he went to their bedroom, rested the baby in the bassinet and pulled out the phone book.
* * *
"It was really nice of Doctor Palenski to see us on such short notice," Trent said while dr
iving down the freeway. Tina was looking out of the window. Her body language indicated that she wished there was much more space between them.
Trent glanced through the rear-view mirror at Little Foster who was quietly seated in the car seat, then back at Tina — keeping the core of his focus on the road. "I'm doing this, honey, because I love you. I just want you to be all right." He touched her knee.
Flinching, she said nothing.
Trent sighed deeply. "I know that right now you hate me for this. What happened back there at the house between you and me… never happened before. I've never seen you act like that, Tina. It's like you were turning into someone I didn't recognize. Doctor Palenski came highly recommended by the hospital administrator. I was told that he's very good in his field. We'll see him and everything will get back to normal soon, honey. I promise."
He couldn't see the tears that had trailed down her cheeks. Turning her head more to the right, she quickly dried them.
* * *
"Mister Fung…" Solange stood in the doorway of Sam's office.
"Come on in, Liza! What can I do for you?" Sam asked, cheerfully.
Solange moved in further in front of the desk. "Sir, I'm very sorry to have to ask you this, but I was wondering if I can leave a couple of hours early tonight," she said.
"Early?"
"Yes, sir."
"Tonight?" He sought clarification.
"Yes, sir. Will that be a problem?' Solange posed.
"No! Not at all. What do you call a couple of hours though? Two?"
"Yes, sir. Just two," she answered.
"What? You don't feel well? You tired?" Sam probed.
"Admittedly, just a little, sir," Solange replied solemnly. "No, sir. That's not quite it. I recently found out that my uncle, whom I was very close to, passed away and I just need a little time to clear my head. That's all."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Sam got up, went around the desk and gave her a hug.
Immortals- The Complete Real Illusions Series Page 22
