“I would love to, but I just don’t think I can do anything tonight, honey. I think I would just like to go home and lay down for a little while.”
Abraham was a bit dejected, but he understood. “Okay, dear. Let’s go home and get you some rest.”
Abraham went around to the passenger’s side of the car and held the door for his wife, as a gentleman should, and Muriel eased herself into the car. He gently closed the door and got in the driver’s side himself. He breathed a long sigh after he closed the door and made his way around to the driver’s side. He was slowly coming to terms that he might not have much time left with his wife, and it was starting to bother him. She had not felt like leaving the house for several days at a time, and even when she did, it was mostly for church or doctor’s appointments. The doctor’s appointments were especially taxing on her, as they had to travel all the way to University of Tennessee in Knoxville, a good three-hour drive from their home in southeastern Tennessee near the Alabama state line.
Abraham got in the Cadillac and drove home in silence, occasionally glancing over to Muriel to make sure she was comfortable. She shifted uneasily in the seat, her headache getting more and more intense. She turned away from the sunshine that peeked through the clouds, the light aggravating her condition. Abraham sighed again; he knew what the rest of the day meant for him. Muriel would lie down and sleep most of the day and through the night due to the narcotic medication that she would inevitably take. She didn't like the “knocked out” feeling from taking the meds, but at least she could rest and make the day more bearable.
Abraham drove the rest of the way home, parked, and got out to open Muriel’s door. She smiled weakly and placed a gentle hand on the side of Abraham’s face. The crooked lines in Abraham’s face and the gray hair he sported told of a life lived somewhat roughly, especially here lately. He was by no means independently wealthy, but never lacked in money.
“Thank you, honey. You’re always so good to me, Abe. I hate to, but I'm gonna have to lay down for a bit.”
Abraham clasped Muriel’s hand and gave a reassuring pat. “You go rest up, honey. I will be in my office if you need me.”
Muriel moved her hand away from Abraham’s face and grabbed the wrought iron gate at the base of their steps. She slowly ascended the stairs, Abraham watching as she did. Abraham sighed; he would be spending another lonely evening in his office reading, checking bills, and other menial tasks.
He sorely missed spending his evenings with Muriel. They would talk, watch TV, and just generally enjoy each other’s company. They were the epitome of soul mates. Abraham continued his self-appointed assignments for the evening, made himself a small dinner, and sat in his luxurious Lay-Z-Boy, watching the end of an Alabama football game. The Tide were having a good year this year, maybe another National Championship-caliber season.
He ate and watched the game as the minutes piled into hours and the hours ate away at the last slivers of sunlight. Unfortunately, Abraham was all too familiar with watching the sunset by himself. Most evenings he admired the splashes of yellow, orange, and red in solitude, often falling asleep in the very Lay-Z-Boy that he now occupied. Lonely and bored, he slowly dozed off.
It would be the end to the last day of sanity for Abraham Stone.
II
The dishes rattled. The wind chimes melodically plinked together. The earth shook with a low, thunderous rumble. Abraham startled awake, groggily taking stock of his surroundings. It took him a moment to realize exactly what was happening. He was not familiar with earthquakes, having only felt one way back in 1973. That quake shook the University of Tennessee hospital over in Knoxville, plus causing some other minor damage throughout the 2,100-kilometer area that it had affected.
Abraham hastily got to his feet, the ground shuddering underneath him. He kept one hand on his armchair to steady himself. The earthquake lasted only about fifteen seconds, but it was long enough to rattle his nerves. It had been nearly thirty years since he’d felt one, and it reminded him why he never had the urge to move to the West Coast. He stumbled over his footstool and regained his bearings. His heart thundered in his chest from the early morning shake. He took a few seconds to just stand and make sure that the world had stopped moving; it had.
“Good lord!” Abraham swore in a loud whisper.
The rattled man moved about in his living room until he found his end table. Inside was a small LED flashlight. He clicked the light on and looked around. A few of the primitive decorations that Muriel loved were lying on the floor, knocked from their perch on the wall. A number of family pictures littered the floor beside it as well. He moved forward towards the small staircase that led upstairs. As Abraham reached the bottom of the stairs, he couldn’t help but notice two things. The first was the odd smell in the air. It was an odor that he couldn’t quite place, but it had a distinct smell nonetheless. The second thing he noticed was the absence of activity upstairs. Even in her semi-drugged state, Muriel would surely have woken up from the violent shake.
But no sound came from upstairs still.
Abraham reached for the light switch at the bottom of the staircase. Flicking the switch up and down with no result meant no power. No big deal, TVA should be on that shortly. He shone the small LED light up the stairs to light his way and ascended.
The top of the stairs ended in a spacious loft that served as he and Muriel’s bedroom. Since both children had moved out several years ago, he had turned their former shared loft into a master bedroom. Much larger than their original bedroom, it boasted a gorgeous view of the Smoky Mountains, especially this time of year.
Something rustled above him.
Abraham hurried up the stairs. He was worried about Muriel. As bad as things bothered her – light and sound, mostly – the early-morning wakeup was sure to have jangled her nerves. He shone the light in the loft as he reached the top of the stairs. The brilliant, white light aimed toward the bed on the left. Abraham and Muriel slept in separate beds, but it did not sway their closeness and love for one another.
“Muriel? Honey, are you all right?” Abraham whispered. On the off chance that she had slept through the whole thing, he didn’t want to wake her.
A weak moan came from the bed.
“Abe? Is that you?”
Abraham smiled ever so slightly and knelt down beside her. “Yeah, honey, it’s me. Are you all right?”
Abraham could see – even in the low light – that her color had faded considerably. He put the back of his hand against her brow. Cold and clammy.
“Muriel, honey, I think we need to get you to Dr. Lucas over at the clinic. I don’t think you’re gonna be well enough to ride all the way to Knoxville like this. Let me see if…” Abraham started to get up from the bedside. Muriel gently grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down.
“Not this time, Abe. I don’t have the energy to fight it off any more. I’m in so much pain and the medicine just isn’t touching it anymore,” Muriel said, her eyes welling up with tears.
Abraham began to feel emotion flooding to the surface as well. “What are you trying to say, honey?”
Muriel placed a soft, tired hand on Abraham’s face. “I’m saying that I have loved you since the moment I saw you and I will see you in heaven, Abe. You are the kindest, most handsome man I have ever known and I will love you forever, Abraham Stone.”
And with that, Muriel Stone died.
Abraham clutched her hand for a moment, not sure how to proceed. Muriel had kept a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) order since a year after her diagnosis. If she died quietly in the night, then she wanted to make sure that was how she went. She did not want any intervention to come between her and the Lord once her time came.
Logic was thrown aside. Abraham couldn’t think of anything more in the world that he wanted more than to be with Muriel, and she was no more. He gently laid her hands together across her chest, making sure she was finally gone. He leaned forward and softly kissed her forehead.
; And then Abraham Stone cried.
Rivers of tears flowed from his eyes as he struggled to compose himself. For the first time in thirty-one years, he had no one. There was no one to talk to, no one to share this moment of pure grief and sadness. Abraham already longed for her touch, to hear her voice, but it would never come again.
Somehow in the midst of his mental breakdown, Abraham ended up downstairs. Not entirely sure how he got there, he took a moment to try to collect himself. First things first, he needed to call Bobby and Lucy. They would be devastated at the loss of their mother, and they were amongst the only family that Muriel and Abe had left. Neither Bobby nor Lucy had granted them any grandchildren, with Lucy still being optimistic about her chances.
Abraham got to the land-line phone, tears still falling from his face. He wiped away the wetness long enough to see the numbers. Bleary-eyed but determined, he dialed Bobby first. After a moment, Abe realized the phone was dead and slammed it down forcefully.
“Damn!” he swore, a flash of misplaced anger coming over him.
His chest hurt. The physical pain he felt was compounded by the emotional torture he was struggling with. There was no outlet for his anger, misplaced or not, and there was no one to talk to.
I can’t even get the damn phone to work! Calm down, Abraham, there was an earthquake this morning. Remember?
A flash of clarity came to him and he reached for the seldom-used cellphone he had. The phone stayed on its charger constantly, mostly because it never got used. Lucy had insisted that he and Muriel…
Muriel…
Abe choked back tears again, slamming his eyes shut and choking back a sob. He needed someone to talk to, and quick. He scrolled through the phone’s limited contact list until he found Lucy’s number.
“Hello? Dad?”
“Yes, it’s me Lucy. I need you to come by the house as soon as you can. Your mother has passed away and I need someone here.”
“Mom’s dead?” Lucy asked. She knew by the tone of her father’s voice that it was a rhetorical question. “When did it happen? Is Bobby there?”
“Don’t worry about your brother, Lucy. Just get here as fast as you can.”
“All right, daddy,” Lucy answered, her emotion evident through the phone. “Listen, daddy. They are saying that earthquake a little while ago is causing problems with people. They think there might be some kind of underground gas leak. You take care until I get there, and if you smell something funny or feel bad, call 911.”
“All right, sweetie. I will see you soon,” Abraham said, and hung up.
Abe sat the cellphone down and stood in the painfully quiet living room for a few moments. Muriel dying, the power being out, the phone not working, it felt like his entire life was crashing down around him. The fragile house of cards that was his existence was being blown away with hurricane force. It felt as if the world had stopped for him and him alone. Maybe the power being out was all in his mind, maybe it wasn’t real at all.
No, Lucy said something about it, too. There must be something going on.
Without the TV, Abraham went to the kitchen and grabbed his solar-powered flashlight radio. The radio kept a charge when left in sunlight, and he could crank it if died. Abe turned on the LED flashlight, and then the FM radio.
What he heard on the radio was difficult to understand. Most of the morning talk shows were just getting started, but all were talking about the early morning shake. Reports were trickling in from around the country about different areas feeling the quake. From Pennsylvania to Georgia, folks had woken to the rumble of Mother Earth. As Abraham listened, he came to the conclusion that the power was not going to be coming back on anytime soon. Despite Lucy’s suggestion, calling 911 wouldn’t do him much good either. Most of the folks at the rescue squad knew about Muriel’s condition and knew that she wasn’t to be revived in the event of her death.
Abraham decided to wait until Lucy got to the house before making any more decisions. Most likely, they would head towards the church. Many years of storms, snow, and other natural disasters had made the church the focal point for most everyone in town. The church had plenty of food, gas, propane, and water to make it through the worst of times.
A noise upstairs brought him out of his thoughts.
At first, he didn’t know what to make of it. It didn’t sound like anyone moving around, just more like the blackbirds that would frequent his roof. It was just a small noise at first. It went on for several seconds.
Thud.
The loud sound caught his attention.
“What on earth?” Abraham said aloud. He turned on his heels and headed back towards the staircase. Had he made a mistake? Did have a priceless few moments left with Muriel? His heart ached for just a few more minutes, a few precious seconds with the woman that had been the love of his life. He would give anything just to hear her voice one more time.
As Abraham got to the top of the stairs, he immediately became mortified. The bed was empty, and all he could see were a pair of feet sticking out from the foot. Fear shot through him like a bolt of electricity. Muriel had most certainly stopped breathing, hadn’t she? He knew that it was only a matter of time before she was taken from him, but he had prayed that day would never come. Muriel’s days had been numbered since she was diagnosed, but he never thought that day zero would arrive.
Abraham scurried over to the end of the bed, dropping to his knees when he reached her. At first, it seemed odd, but he swore that she was breathing. Muriel was face down, her arms at her sides. She was definitely moving, though. A gurgling sound emanated from her throat, sounding as if she needed to clear it. The sound quickly became louder and more pronounced.
Abraham quickly rolled her over and sat her up. “Muriel? Honey? Are you all right?”
Muriel reached up slowly with her right hand. At first, it looked as if she was going to gently place her hand on Abraham’s face. Abraham smiled as she reached up ever so softly…
And grabbed his hair violently.
Abraham instinctively brought his hand up, flinching at the intense pain. He tore himself away from Muriel. A low growl came from the love of his life, a sound that he had not heard her – or anyone else for that matter – make before. His heart pounded, not from fear, but something else. Abraham felt something awaken in his mind, he couldn’t put a finger on what it was, but it was most assuredly there.
Where the hell is Lucy? Abraham thought. He shook his head, trying to keep the irate feeling inside his mind from taking hold.
Muriel reached up again, this time with more enthusiasm. Abraham held both of her hands down.
“Muriel, dear. What is wrong? What do you need me to do?”
Muriel only answered with a low growl.
The door opening downstairs drew Abraham’s attention away from her. He loosed his grip from Muriel and quickly made his way downstairs. As he reached the bottom of the steps Lucy, his daughter, met him, tears in her eyes.
“Oh daddy! I’m so sorry! I want to see mommy one more time!” Although she was twenty-five years old, Lucy couldn’t help but call her mother “mommy.” Pain and sadness has a way of bringing out the inner nine-year-old child in anyone.
Abraham held his daughter back from going up the stairs. A mixed look of indignation and hurt feelings crossed her face.
Abraham looked his daughter in her bleary, wet eyes. “Something is wrong with her, Lucy. I don’t know what to do with her.”
Lucy frowned. “What do you mean? Was it the gas? What happened to her, daddy?”
Another thud against the floor followed by what sounded like dragging feet made both of them look up. Abraham grabbed his daughter by the shoulders and moved her towards the living room adjacent to the stairs.
“We need to get your mother to the church. It’s too long of a drive to go to the hospital in Chattanooga or Knoxville and the church will have power and medical supplies. Maybe we can find out what is wrong with her there.”
Lucy nodded slow
ly. She looked away, deep in thought. “All right, daddy. Let’s get her in the car and get over there. Did you call Bobby?”
“Not yet. I doubt he will get out of bed for this anyway. You know how much your mother being sick scared him. He doesn’t want to be there for her in this condition. The boy isn’t stable, and I’m afraid this might trigger something in him, something less than appealing,” Abraham said.
Before Lucy could reply, her recently deceased mother came down the steps – the hard way. The body that had once been the girl’s mother and Abraham’s wife came down the steps, her arms and legs not working as she tumbled like a human Slinky. Pictures that were still attached to the wall after the small quake were now smashed and scattered down the steps.
Lucy jumped back, visibly startled. She gasped and covered her mouth. Before she could move forward to help her mother, Abraham held her back.
“See, Lucy. There is something wrong with her. We need to go to the church, right now.”
Lucy kept her hand over her mouth, but nodded vehemently. The thing that had been her mother was slowly getting to her feet. The unstable gait and uncoordinated effort that her mother was trying to master was pitiful. Muriel got to her feet, and was promptly bear-hugged by Abraham.
The distraught father turned to his equally distraught daughter.
“Get the car. Now.”
III
Lucy drove while Abraham tried his best to contain his wife. It had taken them twenty minutes to get Muriel into the car, fighting with her the entire time. Lucy had volunteered to drive, unable to deal with the current condition that her mother was in. Something about restraining the woman that had raised her didn’t sit right with her. Abraham was not entirely comfortable with detaining his wife either, but the church was only a ten minute drive from their home.
As they rode on, mostly in silence, the only noise coming from Muriel’s constant growling and attempts to bite Abraham, they noticed the town coming to life. It was not uncommon to see traffic in town, albeit very light, but it looked as if the entire town was out doing something.
Six Feet From Hell: The Lost Chronicles (Book 1) Page 5
