Whispers of Death

by Alicia Rivoli

  That wasn’t all that bothered me though; I still couldn’t get the conversation with Mindy’s dad out of my head. His voice had seemed edgy, almost afraid as he thanked me for the doll, and I couldn’t help but still wonder what he was thinking. Maybe I had upset him by giving the doll to Mindy, or maybe he didn’t want me getting close to their family so soon after his wife’s death.

  I shook my head and tried to focus on making breakfast for the kids before we left for church. I stirred the eggs and flipped the bacon. It sizzled and spurted grease all over the stovetop. I really hated making bacon, but it was Hunter’s favorite. I quickly set the table and poured a couple of glasses of cold milk, stirring in a few teaspoons of chocolate syrup, this time to please Abby.

  “Breakfast is ready!” I called down the hall.

  Abby came running toward me first, her pink dress tucked into her tights and her shoes on the wrong feet. I giggled and quickly pulled down her dress.

  “Thank you mommy.” She smiled.

  Hunter sat down at the table and dished himself a large plate of bacon and eggs. He shoveled the food into his mouth so fast you would have thought he had never eaten before.

  “Why the hurry?” I asked.

  Hunter gave me a closed mouth smile and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I want to finish my drawing before we leave,” he replied.

  “What are you drawing?”

  “You’ll see,” he answered mysteriously.

  “Good morning,” Mark said, entering the kitchen and kissing me on the cheek.

  “Gross dad, can’t you do that when I’m not in the room,” Hunter said, making a gagging sound.

  Mark laughed. “Nope, your mother needs to know that I love her, no matter who is in the room.” He winked.

  Hunter stuck his finger in his mouth, pretending to make himself throw up, and Abby laughed.

  Mark tousled his hair and grabbed a plate full of food. He looked so handsome in a suit and tie. It made my heart skip a beat, and I thanked the stars that he was mine.

  Hunter quickly finished his breakfast, cleaned off his plate, and ran back to his room.

  “Where’s the fire?” Mark asked me.

  “Hunter is drawing and wants to finish before we leave for church.”

  “What’s he drawing?”

  “He wouldn’t tell me. He said I would see later.”

  Mark shrugged. “Why don’t you go get ready? I’ll clean up breakfast.”

  “Are you sure? I can do it. I’m almost ready anyway,” I said.

  “I’m sure.”

  I had laid my dress out that morning, and as I slipped it over my head and felt the cool fabric slide down my legs, it gave me goose bumps. I really didn’t like this dress that much, but it was comfortable. As I finished buckling my shoes, Hunter ran in with his hands behind his back. I could tell he had been using the charcoal set to draw this picture; charcoal was smeared all over his cheek. I stifled my laughter.

  “Well, are you going to let me see your masterpiece?” I teased.

  Hunter smiled and pulled the large sheet of paper from behind his back. As he spun it around, my blood froze and the smile vanished from my face. Staring back at me was a tall figure draped in black robes.

  “Do you like it?”

  I couldn’t answer.

  “Mom?” he asked again.

  I blinked. “Hunter what is that?” I squeaked. My heart pounded so loudly in my chest, I was sure he could hear it.

  “I’m not sure. I see him sometimes, walking around. He even talks to me,” he answered.

  The grin on his face stretched from ear to ear. He was very pleased with his work. I tried to smile back, but I still couldn’t seem to function.

  “What do you mean you see him?” I tried to say, without showing how scared I was.

  “Well, sometimes I see him standing outside, but I saw him in the living room on Friday, then he asked me to draw his picture while we were at Aunt Livie’s on Friday night and give it to you,” he said nonchalantly.

  My whole body shook with fear. My son could see and talk with Death. I collapsed onto the bed, my hand over my mouth. Tears began filling my eyes.

  “He spoke to you?” I whispered.

  “Hey Hunter what are you…” Mark stopped, his eyes focused on my face, then on the picture his son was holding.

  “Do you like it dad?” Hunter asked, oblivious to my shock.

  “Hunter, what is that?” he asked seriously.

  Mark listened as Hunter explained the drawing. As he listened he watched my face, understanding sweeping across his own.

  “What’s the matter? Don’t you like it?” he asked, pulling his drawing back behind his back.

  “No sweetie, it’s an amazing drawing. One of the best you’ve done,” I managed to squeak.

  His smile returned, and he turned and ran back down the hall. My whole body shook. Mark wrapped his arms around me and held me as I cried.

  “Mark, he is visiting our son!” I sobbed. "Our Son! Why is he here?”

  “Amelia, is that the same man from your dreams?” he asked.

  I nodded, burying my face in his clean white shirt.

  “Why is he talking to my son? What does he want with us?”

  He rubbed his hand down my back and held me as I cried. He didn’t respond to my questions, and I could tell that he was lost in his own thoughts. I think he finally understood that this was more than a nightmare, more than me just having some illusion; it was real, and either I was in danger or someone in our family was.

  I watched as the realization swept across my husband’s face. I was almost relieved that he finally understood. I finally felt like I wasn’t alone. He smoothed my hair and pulled my chin up so he could look into my eyes.

  “We will figure this thing out,” he whispered carefully. “Whatever this is, I promise, we will figure it out.”

  I hugged my husband and wiped the tears from my cheeks. A black smudge appeared on my hand. I sighed; my makeup was smeared all over my face. I walked quickly to the bathroom. As I stared at myself in the mirror I realized how terrible I looked. The lack of sleep and the constant state of fear was taking its toll on me. I was pale, with dark circles under my eyes. My lips were chapped and cracking, and my hair that I had taken so much care into doing that morning was sticking up in every direction. I did my best to smooth it down and then sprayed it with hairspray. I knew the spray wouldn’t last very long, but it was the best that I had. I put a little extra lipstick on and tried to hide my dark circles as best as I could. Satisfied that I had done everything that I could, I walked back into the bedroom.

  Mark was still sitting quietly on the bed. He covered his face with his hands, and I could tell he was having a hard time with this newfound knowledge that Death was after me. I crossed the room and pulled him towards me. He wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug and kissed me softly on the cheek.

  “We need to get going soon,” I told him after a long embrace.

  He nodded and went to get ready. I had to pull myself together; my children couldn’t be witness to the fear that had completely enveloped me. Abby was sitting on her floor, surrounded by her stuffed animals. Her dress was now on backwards, and her shoes were still on the wrong feet. I giggled and quickly fixed her appearance.

  “Mommy?”

  “Yes sweetie?”

  “Why are you crying?” she asked in her sweet little voice. “Did Hunter’s drawing make you sad?”

  “No sweet pea. Mommy is just so proud of both of you.”

  She smiled at me. Her little smile could brighten anyone’s day.

  Church went quickly, and I felt peace as soon as I’d entered the building. Mark hadn’t said much since his information overload this morning. He seemed lost in thought. As his friends talked to him, I kept having to nudge him to get him to respond. They seemed to sense that he wasn’t himself after awhile and moved on.

  “Mark, you need to stop thinking about it,” I told him on
the drive home. “I don’t know what this means, so until then let’s just pretend nothing happened.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You can’t just pretend that nothing happened. This is serious. What are we supposed to do?”

  I reached across and grabbed his hand and glanced toward the back of the car. Hunter and Abby were sitting quietly looking out the window. “I don’t know,” I finally said.

  As we approached the house, we saw an unfamiliar car parked on the curb next to our house. A tall man stood next to it, holding the hand of a little girl. I recognized her immediately. It was Mindy from Abby’s class. Abby saw her as soon as I did and squealed in delight.

  “Mommy look it’s Mindy!” she squealed.

  “Yes I see her,” I said.

  We pulled up, and Abby bolted from the car as soon as we stopped and ran to her friend. “Hi Mindy! Did you come to play?”

  Mindy hid behind her dad’s back and stared at all of us. The doll that we had given her was wrapped tightly in her arms. She didn’t answer Abby.

  “Well hello Mr. Tate. What a pleasant surprise!” I said, approaching them. “What do we owe the pleasure?”

  “James, please,” he answered politely. “I wonder if I could have a few minutes of your time?”

  “Of course,” I said. “Abby, why don’t you and Hunter show Mindy all of your toys,” I told them. Abby quickly grabbed hold of a very reluctant Mindy and pulled her inside. We followed closely behind and showed James to the living room.

  “I am so sorry to intrude, but what I have to say can’t wait,” James said.

  “It’s no intrusion. What can we do for you?” Mark replied.

  “As you know, several months ago my wife passed away from breast cancer,” he said, not waiting for any more of an invitation. “Her name was Vanessa, and she meant the world to me. The day we found out that she had advanced cancer was a day I will never forget. After many tests, we were told she wouldn’t have more than three or four weeks of life left. We were devastated. The next few weeks, Vanessa struggled. She was in constant pain, and nothing the doctors gave her worked. They eventually put her into a comma to try to ease her pain, however we watched helplessly as she fought the pain even in sleep. At times she would even scream in agony. The doctors were clueless and quickly woke her up so they could attempt other methods of pain relief. The pain became so intense that she lost the ability to speak. The day before she passed away, she motioned that she wanted to write something down. I quickly got her a pen and paper, and she quickly jotted down this small note,” he said, showing me the letter. “I would like you to read it.” He handed me the paper.

  I looked at him curiously. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded, and his eyes began filling with tears.

  I held the note in my hand. I could tell that it had been opened and closed many times and probably was kept with him at all times. I felt strange reading this woman’s last dying wish, and I couldn’t figure out why this man wanted me to. I had never even met him before, and I certainly didn’t know his wife. I opened the paper carefully and began reading the messy script.

  My dearest love,

  A woman will give Mindy a doll. Tell her my story. Tell her about my pain. I love you and Mindy very much. I will soon be leaving this earth, but I will be with you forever.

  I cried.

  Mark looked at the man with an expression of pure shock. “Is this a joke?” he sputtered.

  James watched us, his face showing no signs that this was a joke. “When she handed me the note, she slipped into a comma almost immediately. I thought she had gone crazy. How would she know that someone was going to give Mindy a doll? She died the next morning. The doctors had no idea why she was in so much pain, or why they couldn’t treat her. They weren’t just having trouble with Vanessa either; it was happening all over the hospital. It was like all the pain medicine was useless. Anyway, Mindy and I were left alone. We buried my wife, and a week later I got a job offer here. I thought it would be good to have Mindy start somewhere new,” he explained.

  My mind was reeling. How did this woman know that I would give her daughter a doll? Why did I have to know about her story?

  “A few days after we moved into our new house, I had a dream.” He continued, “It was my Vanessa. She was still in agony. Her spirit wasn’t able to be at peace. She told me I needed to find the woman named Amelia, and then she was gone.”

  I gasped. “She wanted you to find me? Why?” I managed to say.

  “I had hoped if I ever found you that you would know. I have had the same dream every night for the last five weeks. It is always the same, and she always tells me I need to find you. When Mindy came home with the doll, she ran to me and said, ‘look daddy, mommy was right. The angel lady gave me a doll!’ I of course was in complete shock, but I was relieved to know that you were here and we might soon have peace.”

  My mouth dropped, and Mark was no less shocked as he breathed heavily next to me. The room turned cold, and goose bumps began to form on my arms and neck. I knew what this meant. I was familiar with the feeling. A dark shadow crossed in front of me, and Death smiled, knowing that this time, he had me right where he wanted me.

  Six

  I woke up on the floor, Mark and James huddling over me. I felt chilled right down to my bones and shivered several times.

  “Are you okay?” Mark whispered.

  I tried to nod, but my mind wasn’t functioning; it was still in shock. I closed my eyes and tried to remember what happened. I searched through my memories and remembered the letter James had given me. My emotions took over as I felt my heart race.

  The black figure stood in front of me, blocking James from my view. His smile wide on his face, he held his hand out to me. I looked to see if Mark noticed, but the room was still. Mark’s face frozen in a gaze, his mouth half-open. The sun peaked through the windows, but there wasn’t a sound to be heard. I stared at the dark figure of Death.

  “I’m not going with you. I am needed here,” I spoke with authority, so Death would understand that I meant business.

  Death stared at me, his hand still reaching for me. Another figure came behind him, a woman dressed in white. Her figure was perfect, her long brown hair stretched down the length of her back. She was beautiful. I stared at her, sure I had seen her before. Her eyes held my gaze, and I saw her pain. She struggled with every breath, her movements weak, her countenance inscrutable.

  “Who are you?” I asked, staring at the woman.

  She reached for me. “Amelia” she whispered, “you must help us.” The words came out in agony, sending the message of deep misery.

  “How?” I pleaded, knowing I would do anything to help this woman.

  Death again reached for my hand, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave my family behind.

  “I can’t go with you. I can’t leave my family,” I told him.

  He dropped his hand; still smiling, he bowed, and the woman dropped her head in defeat.

  “Wait, how can I help?” I yelled at him.

  They had gone.

  I opened my eyes and stared at my husband’s face as he tried to console me.

  “Amelia, are you okay?” he asked again.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” I managed to say.

  The woman’s face was burned into my mind, as I searched my memory trying to figure out how I knew this woman.

  “Daddy, is the angel lady okay?”

  The sweet voice came from over my head, and I stared at her. The small child had long brown hair that fell down her back and bounced up and down as she moved. Her blue eyes sparkled, and the white streak down the center made me gasp.

  “James, do you have a picture of Mindy’s mom?” I asked him, sitting up so quickly that my head started spinning. I pushed the feeling aside, knowing that I had just met Vanessa, Mindy’s mother.

  Shocked, James handed me the picture he had in his wallet. The little family stood by a large grove of trees; the leaves were orange and re
d. Mindy was dressed in a little white dress with a red sash wrapped around her waist. Behind her stood her father, James, dressed in a suit with a red and white-stripped tie. The beautiful woman standing next to him smiled back at her, her red dress and white sash complementing her pale complexion. My hand instantly shot to my mouth, and tears flowed down my face, as if someone had opened a faucet. I sobbed as I held the picture.

  “You saw her, didn’t you?” James said somberly.

  I stared at him in disbelief. Mindy watched me carefully. I didn’t know how to respond with her in the room. Did Mindy know about her father’s dreams? Why did she keep calling me the angel lady?

  “Mindy, why do you call me the angel lady?” I asked her through my tears.

  She stared at her dad, who nodded at her. “Because my mommy said an angel would bring me a doll,” she said, holding the little blonde doll in her arms, playing quietly with its hair.

  “When did your mommy tell you this?” I asked her.

  She shrugged. “Daddy can I still play?” she asked him.

  He looked at Mark and me. “Of course princess, go right ahead,” Mark answered.

  She squealed with delight as she skipped down the hall to Abby’s room.

  “Did you see her?” James asked me for a second time as soon as Mindy was out of hearing range.

  I bowed my head and took a deep breath. “Yes,” I said. “Just now.”

  Mark stared at me in disbelief. “Just now?” he questioned.

  I explained what had happened, leaving out the part about Death wanting me to come with him. I wasn’t sure Mark or James was ready to hear that part of the story.

  “How does she expect you to help her?” Mark said angrily. “What can you possibly do? You aren’t a magician!”

  I placed my hand on his arm, hoping this would calm him down, but he stood and left my side.

  “I don’t know,” I honestly said. “I just know that somehow I am supposed to help her.”

  James seemed relieved that I had seen his wife. I wasn’t sure if he was happy that someone knew that his wife needed help and he had found me, or that he no longer thought himself crazy. Either way, we now shared something that neither of us knew how to deal with. Mark was beside himself; he paced the room, once even slamming his fist on a table, rattling the vase that rested there.