The Death of Addie Gray

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The Death of Addie Gray Page 12

by Amy Cross


  ***

  Somewhere in the distance, just for a moment, I think I hear Rob's voice calling out to me.

  Sitting up with a sudden jerk, I realize I must have nodded off again. I look around the room, but I'm alone in the kitchen and the house is absolutely quiet. After a few seconds, however, I realize that I can just about hear a faint pitter-pattering sound nearby, and I turn to see that light rain is falling against the window.

  “It's okay, Mommy,” Addie says suddenly.

  Spinning around, I find that she's sitting on a chair right behind me, in the gloomiest part of the room.

  “It's okay,” she says again with a smile. “You can nap if you want to. It's good for you to sleep.” She's holding my phone, and after a moment she looks down at the screen. The phone's light catches the side of her face. “It says here that it can take up to two weeks for the full effects of those tablets to get out of your system. So it might take that long before you have a real, proper night's sleep without any interruptions. I think that would help him get through into your mind.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, although my head feels extremely tired and heavy. “What time is it?”

  “Just sleep, Mommy,” she says, leaning closer and kissing me on the cheek before sitting back again. “No-one's going to disturb you. I'll be quiet as a mouse. You have to sleep. Now!”

  ***

  “Erica!”

  “Rob?”

  Lifting my head suddenly, I find that I'm in the kitchen again. The lights are off and night has fallen outside. I turn, but Addie isn't on the chair behind me, and when I glance at the window I can just about see rain glistening in the moonlight.

  “Rob?” I whisper, getting to my feet. My knees and back ache, and I wince slightly as I make my way unsteadily toward the fridge. I feel as if I'm about to collapse, but when I pull the fridge open and reach inside for one of my caffeine drinks, I find that they've been cleaned out. I pause, trying to work out where they could have gone, but then I head to the trash can and look inside.

  Sure enough, there are lots of empty cartons, as if Addie poured them all out into the sink. She must really, really want me to sleep.

  I turn and look across the dark kitchen, but for a moment I feel almost too weak to take another step. It doesn't help that the entire room seems to be slowing turning around me. Leaning back against the counter, I try to work out whether I've somehow slept the whole day through. I have vague memories of waking a few times and talking to Addie, but it's as if there's a kind of fog in my mind and the whole world – my body, the house, even the sky outside – is upside down.

  All I really remember is Addie constantly telling me to rest.

  “Go to sleep, Mommy.”

  Those same words, over and over.

  “Go to sleep, Mommy.”

  “Go to sleep, Mommy.”

  Even whispering in my ear while I was dozing.

  “Go to sleep, Mommy.”

  Finally, figuring that I need to make sure she's okay, I struggle through to the corridor. I can hear a voice now, at the other end of the house, and as I make my way toward the farthest door I realize that Addie seems to be talking to someone. My first instinct is to call out to her, to ask what she's doing, but instead I make my way slowly to the door. So far, all I can tell is that she's speaking quietly, almost whispering. At the same time she sounds keen, as if she's excited.

  Just as I reach the door, however, she stops.

  I wait, hoping that she'll start again at any moment.

  Seconds later, the door creaks open and she appears, staring up at me. For several seconds, she simply looks straight at me, as if she's trying to work out what to do next.

  “You're awake,” she says calmly.

  “Did I sleep all day?” I ask.

  She hesitates, and then she nods. “It's good for you. Go back to sleep, Mommy.”

  “Were you talking to someone?” I continue, reaching out and pushing the door open to reveal her bedroom. There's no sign of anyone else, of course. “I thought I heard your voice.”

  “I was just...” She pauses. “I was praying.”

  I frown. “Why?”

  “I don't know. For Daddy's soul. I was praying that wherever Daddy's soul is, he's at peace. Isn't that a good thing? Should I not pray for him?”

  “If you want to,” I tell her. “It's just... You've never really seemed like you care about that sort of thing before. We've never been a religious household.”

  She pauses. “Oh. Well, I just...” Another pause, and then she steps forward and puts her arms around my waist, hugging me tight. “I love you, Mommy. Don't ever forget that. I really want you to be able to sleep properly. Those pills were messing you up and giving you the wrong type of sleep.”

  “The wrong type?” I ask cautiously.

  “I read about it on your phone. There are different phases of sleep, four main ones, and then there's the REM stage, which is when you dream the most. Have you been dreaming a lot lately, Mommy?”

  “I... I'm not sure,” I tell her. “I don't remember. Maybe a little.”

  “And you weren't dreaming much before, were you? When you were taking all those pills, I mean.”

  “I don't remember that, either.”

  “You need to dream. It's important. That's when your mind opens up the most and becomes more receptive.”

  “It is?”

  She steps back and looks up at me. “You're going to be okay,” she continues. “I can feel it. As soon as you start sleeping properly, you'll be ready. Maybe Rob was dragging you down a little. You must have been very worried all the time, and I know what you're like. You always manage to convince yourself that nothing's wrong, even if the evidence is right in front of you. Like with Rob and those -”

  “Okay,” I reply, interrupting her, “maybe that's a conversation for another day.”

  “Why?”

  “Have you eaten?” I ask, realizing that I haven't made food all day. I feel druggy, as if I've been sedated, but I figure I can still rustle something up.

  “I had a sandwich.”

  “You made it yourself?”

  She nods. “While you were asleep.”

  Staring at her, I can't help feeling that she seems very independent all of a sudden.

  “I'll go see what's in the fridge,” I tell her, taking a step back. For a moment I feel dizzy, and I have to grab the side of the door to make sure I don't tip over. “Maybe I can make something for dinner. Either that, or we'll order take-out. I think Aladdin's deliver.”

  “I'd like it if you make something yourself,” she replies with a smile. “Let's not go calling people. The most important thing is that you relax and get some quality sleep. Remember how much I slept while I was in the hospital? Sleeping is the key to it all. I felt so much better after.”

  “Sure, honey,” I mutter, turning and heading back to the kitchen. “I'll give you a call soon.”

  Just putting one foot in front of the other is a little tricky. I make my way slowly and steadily along the corridor, although when I get to the far end I glance back and see that Addie is still watching me.

  “It's okay,” I tell her. “I'm fine.”

  I spend a few minutes getting the oven ready before taking some frozen fish from the freezer. After a moment, however, I realize I can hear Addie talking again. I pause, before making my way back along the corridor. This time I manage to stay completely quiet, and she's still nattering away to herself when I reach the door. I lean closer, trying to make out the words.

  “Just one sign,” she whispers, sounding scared. “That's all I need. I've done everything to clear the way for you. I know you're there, so just give me a sign. It's like when I found my way through, it's just like that, and if I can do it, I know you can, even if it's a little harder. I'm sorry she's more awake, but I need to know I'm on the right -”

  She stops suddenly.

  Turning, I make my way back to the kitchen. For a moment, I can't shake
a sense of panic at the thought that Addie is lapsing back into her weird fantasy world, but then I realize that the shock of Rob's death must simply have knocked her a little off-course.

  She'll be fine. We'll both be fine. I just need to stay awake, and I need to find a way to stop that scratching sensation at the base of my skull.

  ***

  “Where are you?” Addie screams, pushing on my shoulders as she holds me down against the bed. “Show me! Where are you?”

  “Addie -”

  “I'm not Addie!” she yells, leaning closer to me with tears in her eyes. “It's me,” she stammers. “It's Serriah... I'm right here, waiting for you! Where aren't you here yet?”

  “Addie!” I shout. “Stop!”

  “WHERE ARE YOU?” she yells. “COME TO ME!”

  ***

  “Stop!”

  Opening my eyes suddenly, I realize that somehow night has fallen. I stare up at the ceiling for a moment, feeling completely out of breath, and then I turn and look over at the window.

  I'm in bed, flat on my bed.

  Where did the day go?

  I remember making dinner, and I think I remember eating with Addie, and then...

  I think I remember her helping me along the corridor. I was so tired, I could barely walk, but Addie held my hand and got me to the bedroom, and then she helped me into bed.

  “You need to sleep,” I remember her telling me for the hundredth, maybe even thousandth time, her voice echoing through my thoughts. “I need you to sleep.”

  Then there was the dream, where she was yelling at me, and then suddenly I woke up. Sweat's pouring across my face and chest and I feel as if my heart is about to burst out through my ribs.

  “You'll be fine,” I whisper to myself, trying to stay calm. “Just focus. Everything's okay.” I pause for a moment, before realizing that I need to get up and drink some water. The bedsheets are soaked with sweat, so I -

  As soon as I try to get up, I feel something tightening around my wrists and ankles. I try again, and I feel a rush of panic as I realize that thick ropes are holding me to the bed.

  “Don't try to fight it,” Addie's voice says suddenly, from the darkness nearby.

  Turning, I can just about see her in the far corner, watching me from the shadows.

  “There's nothing you can do, Erica,” she continues, stepping forward until I can make out her calm, expressionless face. “I finally figured out what I was doing wrong, and now I'm gonna put it right. I promised him, and when you love someone and you promise them something, you don't ever break your word.”

  “Addie, what have you done?” I ask, trying not to panic as I wriggle on the bed, desperately struggling to get myself free from the ropes. “Addie, Mommy needs -”

  “I'm not Addie,” she says firmly, “and you're not my mother.”

  “Addie!”

  “I wish you had been,” she adds. “Well, kinda, anyway. You seem like a really good mother. I wish my real folks had been more like you.”

  Pulling on the ropes, I find that she's managed to tie them surprisingly tight.

  “I learned on the farm,” she says, as if she can read my mind. “Pa taught me to tie the pig-pen closed. You can't have loose knots when you're dealing with swine. A good knot can be the difference between life and death.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, still trying to wriggle free. “Addie, why have you tied me to the bed?”

  “I promised I'd help him through,” she continues, taking another step forward. “Don't you see? I promised we'd make it through together, but Jesophat slipped and fell. Those nightmares I had, they weren't just nightmares, they were ways for my memories to break through. I didn't want to accept what had happened to him, but now I see that he...” She pauses for a moment, and now her smile seems genuine, almost as if she's excited. “He's just a little way behind,” she says finally. “Not far, but time isn't quite the same in that place. A few minutes there can feel like days or weeks here.”

  “Addie, stop!” I hiss, pulling and pulling on my right wrist, even though I can feel that the rope is tied far too tight. “Let Mommy up from here and -”

  “You should sleep,” she replies, climbing onto the bottom of the bed and starting to crawl toward me. “I need you to sleep. And not like you slept on those pills, either. You need to sleep properly and deeply, like Addie did when -”

  “Addie!” I shout. “Let me up right -”

  Before I can finish, I let out a gasp as I feel a brief burning sensation at the base of my skull. I wince as the sensation passes, but for a moment I feel nauseous. Whatever that was, it felt like the scratching but much worse, and much more intense.

  “Don't fight it,” Addie says, crawling ever closer. “He's coming. I can feel it. Can't you feel it? Can't you feel how close he is?” Above her, the electric light flickers slightly before switching off, plunging the room into darkness. “He's coming tonight,” she continues. “He's so, so close, and all he needs is for you to fall asleep and let him in, the way Addie let me in by vacating her body. That's what I've been trying to get you to do all day, Erica. If you'd just listened to me from the start, it'd all be over now and you'd be in the other place, and you could go find the real Addie. I'm sure she's very scared without you.” She leans closer to me. “You can't fight it. He's coming.”

  “Who's coming?” I ask, trying once again to get free.

  “Who do you think?” Her smile grows. “Jesophat. He's coming back to me and then we can be together forever. And you'll get to be with your Addie in the other place, so everybody wins.” She pauses, before tilting her head slightly as she stares into my eyes. “I think I see him right now!”

  “Addie, no -”

  “Jesophat!” she screams, leaning closer until her nose is against mine. “Jesophat! I'm right here!”

  “Help!” I shout, hoping against hope that someone outside the house can hear. “Somebody help me!”

  PART FOUR

  HEDDERBURGH, OHIO

  JANUARY 2ND 1975

  Serriah

  Running across the dark barn, I push the wooden doors open until bright afternoon sunlight fills my eyes. Almost blinded, I have to hold my hands up for shade as I look toward the dusty road. Sure enough, I see his truck bumping along the dusty road, headed this way.

  My heart leaps in my chest.

  He's coming.

  The truck kicks up a cloud of dust as it screeches to a halt. Jesophat already has the door open and he quickly jumps down. I run over, although I slow my pace when I see that he's carrying his shotgun. A moment later, I see he's got an expression like pure thunder, and I feel my heart sink a little as I realize something must have happened. Something bad.

  “What?” I ask as he storms past me, heading around the side of the barn. “Jesophat! What's wrong?”

  Hurrying to keep up, I see that he's already started loading the gun as he walks.

  “What is it?” I ask. “Is it your parents? What did they do? Talk to me!” I have flowers in my hand, fresh flowers I picked myself while I was waiting for him, but I don't think this would be the right moment. “Jesophat, what's wrong?”

  Making his way past the rear of the barn, Jesophat stops and aims his rifle at the trees. Trying not to panic, I look at his face and then his arms, searching for some sign that he might have taken a beating. Just as I'm about to ask him more questions, however, he pulls the trigger and blasts several branches from the nearest oak, casting wooden splinters across the ground and sending crows screeching up into the air.

  I pull back. “Jesophat -”

  He fires again, this time blowing an even larger chunk from the tree, and then he immediately starts reloading the rifle. As the crows arc and swoop above the barn, I reach out and put a hand on Jesophat's arm.

  “What's wrong?” I ask, trying not to panic even though there are tears in my eyes. “Just tell me!”

  “Not now,” he mutters, darkly. His hands are trembling as he slip
s the cartridges into the gun.

  I move my hand onto his waist. “You haven't kissed me yet.”

  “Not now!” he hisses, pushing me away and then raising the gun. He fires again, blasting the tree's trunk, and then with his next shot he splits the main part, sending one side creaking and crashing to the ground.

  I step back again, watching as he reloads the rifle. I've seen him angry before, of course I have, but never like this, never absolutely furious. I had a feeling something might be wrong today, though. Sometimes I just get these hunches, these little ideas that make me think a bad thing is going to happen, and I woke up like that today, with a knot of worry in my belly. Still, it's one thing for Jesophat to be mad, and it's something else for him to be in a state like this.

  If I didn't know him the way I do, I'd be scared.

  He raises the rifle and fires again, blasting what's left of the tree. He waits until the dust has cleared, revealing just a pile of broken wood, and then he fires yet again. Taking a deep breath, he sets the rifle down and stands completely still, staring at the damage he's caused.

  I back up toward the barn.

  “Okay,” he mutters finally, turning and walking toward me. As he gets closer and puts his hands on my arms, I smell his sweat, and I drop the flowers from my hand as a shudder of desire runs through my body. “Okay,” he says again, looking down at my lips. “Now.”

  ***

  “We should get out of here,” I murmur as I watch a crow flying high above in the bright blue sky. I'm in a daze, the kind of daze that always hits when I've been with Jesophat, but today it's tempered by an edge of worry. “I've said it before, and I'm right. I know we planned on running the farms, but there are other farms out there. You've got your truck, and I've been saving, I've got a few dollars tucked away. Let's leave and find somewhere else. The whole world is waiting for us.”

  “The farm's my birthright,” he says darkly, as I knew he would.

 

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