Rest in Peace Roz: The R.I.P. Series Book 1

by Kris Johnston

Juanita and I had just started approaching the house when the front door burst wide open and a series of small creatures and two small children came running out, both dressed in jackets and beanies. The older one, the boy, was screaming some nonsense about a dog, a rabbit, a cat, a bird, a toad, a platypus, a caterpillar, and I also thought I heard him shout out a joyful, “Hi Juanita!” somewhere in the mania.

  Juanita chuckled and kept approaching the house as the youngsters ran around the yard. Before we made it to the door, a woman appeared and smiled big at us. She had long, sandy colored hair that was both curly and frizzy, with half of it piled on top of her head into a thing resembling a bird’s nest. She wore cat eyes glasses that were attached to a chain around her neck, and was dressed in faded, ripped up bell bottom jeans, a pastel yellow peasant top, and bare feet. Well, no, not bare. On further inspection, I saw she wore three toe rings on each foot, and one of her feet was almost covered completely with tattoos of flowers and leaves.

  Hippie, much?

  She grinned at me and it was almost like seeing the sun for the first time. It was that bright, that warm, that genuine. I immediately took a surprised liking to the hippie.

  “Juanita!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms around my social worker and giving her an enormous hug. “So glad you thought of us! I'm so happy to see you!”

  Juanita returned the hug and then stepped away.

  “Bonnie Walters, this is Rosalind Pastrano.”

  I stepped forward, clutching my duffle bag and nodded.

  “Hi,” I said softly.

  “Hello, gorgeous!” Bonnie said loudly, and threw her arms around me, too. I was taken aback, I'd never been hugged by an adult before. I didn't know what to do, except stand there awkwardly, and shift my weight from foot to foot.

  Bonnie pulled away and didn't let my lack of a return hug phase her.

  “I just got your room done!” She exclaimed. “The kids helped me. They were so excited to hear we were getting a teenager.” She flashed her grin at me once more, and I smirked/smiled at her.

  Hello, inward cringe. Would I ever stop smirking when I tried to smile?

  Bonnie led me into the house and gave me a brief tour. She explained that her husband, Mitchell, would be home in a few hours and until then, I was welcomed to relax in my new room or hang out with her.

  She led me into the kitchen, which was painted in bold, funky colors of lime green, bright yellow, and navy. There were at least seven potted plants hanging in the large window, each with vines trailing down.

  Next, she showed me the living room, which was also done in bright colors. The furniture itself was neutral, the couches and arm chairs were the color of sand on a beach. But there were throw pillows, braided rugs, bookshelves, and artwork all over the place in every color of the rainbow. Plants hung from all four corners, and then I noticed the far wall had been painted like a mural. It had a pale orange background, and someone had lovingly painted different names with swirls in bright colors all over it. There was the name, “Miranda,” painted in blue. “Isaac,” painted in green, Andrew in yellow, “Vincent,” in red, “Amelia,” in bright pink, “Teddie,” in magenta, and the list went on and on.

  Bonnie saw my stare, and said, “Those are the names of all the children we've been blessed to have in our home. Some of them stay for days, some for months, some for years. But each one gets added to the wall. This way, they're always a part of our home, no matter how long they're with us.”

  My breath caught in my throat. The gesture alone was touching, but the love which clearly motivated this woman astounded me.

  I adored it. Everything about this place was charming and cozy and fun. And so obviously full of love.

  I would never fit in here.

  I had no idea how to do love.

  She showed me where her and her husband slept at one end of the house in the master suite, and then led me through to the other end of the house, where three bedrooms awaited us. One door had the name, “Vincent,” painted on it. Another had the name, “Amelia,” painted on it. The third was blank.

  “I didn't have a chance to add your name to your door yet,” she explained. “We were using this room as a sort of art studio for myself, so it was all I could do to get all my supplies moved out and your furniture moved in. I wasn't sure what colors you liked, and I didn't have time to repaint in here yet. But you have a bed, a dresser, a desk, and, you even have your own bathroom in there.”

  She winked at me.

  I'm pretty sure my mouth dropped open, and she laughed.

  “This is your space now, Rosalind. You may do anything you like with it. In a few days, I'll let you look at paint samples to decide which color you'd like the walls, if you want to change it, that is. Go ahead and relax for a bit. You've had a long drive. I'll come check on you soon.”

  She left me standing at the door and walked back out to the kitchen, where Juanita waited. I assumed they had things about me to discuss, and I felt so tired, I had no desire to hang out with them anyway.

  But still, having my own private bathroom excited me.

  Feeling like I had just hit the foster family lottery, I opened the door to my new bedroom.

  And nearly screeched.

  This was my bedroom?!

  I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. The first thing I noticed were the walls. Each one was painted a different color from the violet family- a soft lilac, a bold plum, a neutral lavender, and a deep purple. Across the walls were several quotes painted by hand in black. I walked around the room, reading each one.

  Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night- Edgar Allan Poe

  Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple- Dr. Seuss

  I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living- Dr. Seuss

  Dream as if you'll live forever. Live as if you'll die today- James Dean

  The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead- Marilyn Monroe

  If you're going through hell, keep going- Winston Churchill

  As I read the quotes, I walked into the bed, and that's when I noticed it. My bed back in Terre Haute had been a full size, like this one, but it was old and sunken in the center. It never had matching sheets, pillowcases, and an actual comforter like this. This bed, my new bed, did not have a thin bed spread. It did not have a worn, holy blanket. Instead, it had a thick, plush, black and purple comforter.

  “I died,” I whispered. “I died and went to heaven. How does she know I love black and purple? I'm dead. I'm in heaven. That's the only explanation.”

  “You certainly hit the jackpot, Toots!”

  “Ahhh!” I screeched as a voice spoke from behind. I twirled around and was immediately face to face with my stranger.

  Stunned, I stared at him. He looked exactly the same as he had the night he saved me. Blue jeans. White tee. Leather jacket. Messy pompadour. Shades hanging from his neckline.

  For the first time, I realized how absolutely gorgeous he was.

  “Where… where have you been? Why did you disappear? Wait, first, how did you get in here? Did you follow me from Terre Haute?”

  He raised his hands and said, “Relax, Roz. Relax. I'm going to answer your questions as best as I can, alright? Just, give me a sec.”

  He casually roamed around my new bedroom, taking in the desk and computer which sat upon it. He looked up and across the walls, his eyes coming to a stop on one quote.

  “She quoted James Dean,” he said reverently. He raised his hand and traced the words with his fingertips. He glanced over his shoulder at me. “She quoted James Dean, Roz. She's a keeper.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, so? It makes sense, this is Marion.”

  The boy spun around, his eyes piercing me. “Marion?” He asked. “We’re in Marion, Indiana?” I nodded. “Birthplace of James Dean?” Again, I nodded.

  Juanita had happily fed me that little b
it of trivia on the drive here.

  He brought his hand to his chest and clutched it.

  “I need a minute. This… this is huge, Roz! It’s his hometown! James freakin’ Dean!”

  I watched as the boy continued to freak out over being in Marion, much to my utter confusion.

  “Okay?” I asked, clearly not getting it.

  He looked at me, and slowly approached. “He's my idol. I was named for him.”

  Aha! At last! I was finally getting somewhere with my stranger.

  “Your name is James?”

  He grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Call me Jimmy. Everyone else does. Well… they used to, anyway.”

  A hint of sadness reflected briefly in his eyes, but he quickly shook his head and it was gone.

  “Jimmy,” I said softly, “It's nice to finally meet you.”

  He nodded, and his eyes grew dark as he became serious. “I've been waiting for you to see me for a long time, Rosalind.”

  I was confused and opened my mouth to ask him what that meant, when there was a knock on the door.

  “Roz?” Juanita called. “I'm heading out now, can I say goodbye?”

  I looked back to Jimmy who put a cold finger across my lips.

  “I'll be here when you come back,” he whispered. “I'll always be here.”

  Without another word, he disappeared into thin air.

  I fell to the bed, shocked to my core.

  Am I going crazy? Am I hallucinating?

  “Roz?” Juanita called again. “Are you in there?”

  The bedroom door opened slowly, and I turned my head to look at her.

  She saw the expression on my face and immediately crossed the room and knelt before me.

  “Honey what's wrong? Are you alright?”

  I somehow managed to nod and smirk. “Yes, I'm okay, it's just been a long day.”

  She nodded. “You're allowed to feel however you need to. Everyone understands this is a difficult time for you.”

  I swallowed and stood up, willing myself to appear normal.

  “Thanks for everything, Juanita,” I said softly.

  She wrapped her arms around me.

  “You have my cell number, right?” She asked.

  I nodded into her shoulder, and slowly my arms began to creep up on their own and hug her back. Awkwardly.

  “I’ve left the number of a local therapist with Bonnie. It would be a good idea for you to meet with her when you're ready.”

  I nodded, somehow understanding the necessity of seeking therapy, but having no desire to address it just yet.

  “Call me anytime, day or night. I'll be back to check on you in a couple weeks.”

  I nodded again, feeling like I was not only losing my mind, but about to lose the last tie I had to my previous life.

  I should have been happy. Excited. Thrilled with the idea of starting over. But the truth of the matter was that I was terrified, and to top it off, I was seeing boys disappear before my very eyes.

  My gaze fell upon the wall farthest from me, and I saw yet another quote:

  I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity- Edgar Allan Poe

  How fitting.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  After saying goodbye to Juanita, Bonnie suggested we sit on the back deck with an iced coffee and get to know each other a little bit.

  I was so in love with my new bedroom and so grateful for it, I couldn't refuse.

  We sat at a wrought iron patio table with lined chairs and sipped our coffees while two little people played in the backyard before us. I'd learned the boy was older. His name was Vincent and he was eleven years old. His hair was the same color as a carrot and he was covered in freckles. He was lanky and tall, and apparently his favorite thing was soccer.

  “Watch me Roz!” He shouted as he kicked a ball across the grass.

  I gave him a weak smile and a thumbs up.

  The girl was younger, only five, and her skin was the color of milk chocolate. Her dark, curly hair was styled into two short, fat braids on either side of her head, and held together with bright pink bows. Her name was Amelia, and although she didn't look like the sister I had lost, something about her reminded me of Angelina. It made me feel like we were instantly connected in some way.

  Except, however, for the fact that Amelia did not speak.

  “It's not that she can't,” Bonnie explained as we watched Amelia pet one of the family dogs. “It's that she won't. For whatever reason, she decided one day to stop talking, and no amount of prodding or encouragement or therapy will get her to start again.”

  Bonnie took a drink of her coffee and smiled wistfully.

  “I'm not worried. I know she'll speak when she's ready.”

  I nodded in agreement, having no idea what to say about it.

  I looked at Amelia again. She was cute. Her arms and legs were slightly pudgy and she was dressed in jeans and a bright pink sweater. She might not speak, but she exuded happiness as she played with the little dog.

  “How many pets do you have?” I asked.

  Bonnie grinned. “Right now, we have three. Two dogs and a cat. That one,” she pointed to the little tan dog with Amelia, “Is Chester. He's a rescue dog. Well, they're all rescues,” she chuckled, “So we don't know for sure what breeds they are. But we believe he's a terrier mix.”

  She looked out across the yard and pointed again. This time, back beside a tool shed, I saw a larger dog. It was black and grey, and looked a little scary, almost like a pit bull.

  “That's Harley. She's the mama of everyone. She'll protect us all and slobber her love all over you, if you let her.”

  I attempted to smile again, and managed a better one. I'd never had a pet before, and even though I was intimidated by the muscle Harley sported, I liked the idea of a dog loving on me. My heart smiled bigger than my face.

  “And you have a cat, too?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Tobias. He’s all black, you'll know him when you see him. Watch out for him, he'll act like he owns the place if you let him.” She winked.

  We fell into a companionable silence while the kids played. It felt so bizarre, being accepted into this family by this very cool woman, and yet it felt rather nice, too. However, I was afraid to let my guard down too much, in case they decided I was too old for them and they changed their minds.

  In the meantime, I wanted Bonnie to know how thankful I was, so I said, “I love the bedroom. Thank you for that.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “Truly? I thought you might hate the walls. I painted them like that when I moved my art supplies in there.”

  I nodded. “The quotes are cool.”

  She smiled. “The ones from Marilyn and Liz might be a bit too old for you, but I added them to remind myself that even though I enjoy getting dirty with clay, I'm still a woman.”

  I tilted my head. “Liz?”

  “Elizabeth Taylor. Have you not seen that quote yet?”

  I shook my head.

  She grinned at me. “You will.”

  I nodded, and the cat suddenly made an appearance. He strolled past me, not sparing me a glance or acknowledgement of any sort.

  “You said clay. Do you do sculptures?” I asked.

  She giggled. “Did you see the ceramic animals in the front yard?”

  “Those are yours?”

  She nodded. “I make one for each of the children that stay here. They pick out which animal they want, and I sculpt it. Then they decide where it goes in the yard.”

  I felt like such a schmuck. I had inwardly made fun of her yard when I arrived, only to find out she'd been doing something nice and generous with her talent.

  “The peacock is beautiful,” I offered.

  “That was for Miranda,” she said softly, and I detected a hint of sadness in her voice. “Sometimes the children take their ceramics with them when they leave here, and sometimes they aren't allowed to take anything.”

  “Different rules for different f
amilies?” I asked.

  A pained look came into her eyes. “Something like that.”

  ***

  Despite having an iced coffee, I soon felt wave after wave of exhaustion roll over me. It was all I could do to hide my yawns from Bonnie.

  “Go lay down,” she said gently. “You've had a big day. You need to rest.”

  I nodded my thanks and made my way back into the house and to my room. I realized I was moving like a zombie and hoped I made it into my bed before collapsing.

  My bed. I couldn't wait to try it out.

  I closed the door behind me, glancing around briefly to see if Jimmy was around. He wasn't. Soon, he was going to give me some answers, but for now, I was content in knowing he'd likely pop up again.

  I pushed the comforter back and sank into the plush mattress. Heaven! I pulled the comforter up over my weary body and burrowed down into the softness. More heaven! Sleeping on a cloud couldn't have been more luxurious.

  I knew I was only seconds away from sleep when I felt him. I didn't open my eyes, but I knew he was there. There was a sudden chill in the air and it moved around the room until it was beside me on the bed.

  I sighed.

  “Don't disappear anymore,” I whispered.

  An icy, airy hand gently stroked my hair and I basked in the comfort it brought me.

  “I never do,” he replied softly. “I'm always here with you. Even when you can't see me.”

  “You're going to explain all this, Jimmy,” my words slurred together and I was amazed he could make out my words.

  “I promise, Roz, I will. As best as I can.”

  ***

  Something woke me up. I sprang up instantly terrified and awake. Derek! Where was he? He was coming for me. I knew he was. He was going to force me to do things with him… things I didn't want to do.

  He was coming.

  I had to disappear.

  A sob escaped my throat as I crawled out of the bed and ran for my closet. I would hide. I would hide in my closet. He couldn’t find me there. He wouldn't be able to hurt me in the closet.

  I had to get to the closet.

  I yanked on the old doorknob and it came off in my hand. I cried out, clawing at the closet door, trying to force it opened.