Maddie Ann s Playground

by Mackenzie Drew

  Jennifer closed her eyes as her hair blew back. A shiver caused gooseflesh to cover her arms. The aroma of the outdoors called to her with its powerful scent of dry leaves and smoke from chimneys nearby. The bright sun peeking through scudding clouds overhead reflected an astounding shaft of light, looking like God's calling card. She had to go outside in the light. She slipped on her tennis shoes her mother bought her to wear home from the hospital, but as she started out the door, she heard her mom calling on the intercom for her.

  “Jennifer, honey, I’ve made us some lunch.”

  ***

  Another endless night approached. Claire made it back to Old Creek Cemetery, armed to the hilt with new spiritual knowledge and light. Her grandmother's voice rang in her ears. Her weary spirit faced yet another challenge. With her head held low, she sensed the pain of the lost souls roaming the repulsive grounds. Every step she took, recollections of her earthly life replayed themselves, like a movie in the clouds of her mind.

  Her parents' faces bloomed in her eyes. She remembered happier times. Jennifer's childish laughter echoed in her ears as they played pranks on their friends. She relived their excursion to this evil place, watched as each of her friends lost their lives. With a sudden wave of intense grief for all she'd lost, Claire’s purity faded and the goodness of her heart tarnished with bitterness. She tried to hold back the tears, but they rolled down her cheeks at will.

  Her soul weakened and sorrowful, she approached the light waiting for her on the other side of those gates. She closed her eyes and held out her hand. A myriad of gentle spirits took her through the portal.

  When her eyes opened, Claire couldn’t identify her surroundings. A defiled mystic world appeared before her. Light ceased to exist. A foul wind blew and shadows smothered the land as if evil swallowed the moon and stars. Her body quivered with fear. She placed her hands over her ears to keep the screams of tormented souls from entering her heart. Rejecting obscurity with all her might, she sensed the love from unseen forces giving her courage. She remembered what her grandmother told her, and vowed to banish the malevolence around her.

  Her arms outstretched, she cast out shafts of light that brightened the sky. Eerie screams flew past her. She became stronger, spreading the goodness to each of the anguished hearts surrounding her. Claire lifted her arms higher. She felt a warm, tingly sensation wash through her. Her eyes closed and a smile on her face, she spun around, the center of the light. It flowed like streams of life-giving water from her fingertips. She relaxed into her chore as nature came alive. The brutal darkness lifted. The stars appeared; the half-moon glowed like a crooked smile on a jack-o-lantern. A gentle breeze dusted her face with the sweet smell of wild flowers blossoming. Children's singing echoed gently over the parched and barren land, replacing evil growls.

  She stood steadfast, spreading goodness and light, and suddenly, she felt a blow to the back of her head. Claire fell straight to the ground. She rolled over to see what hit her. A swift hand struck her face, knocking her back in the dirt. Lifting her arms to cover her head, a familiar voice called her name.

  “Claire, what do you think you’re doing? This place will be evil forever, so you might as well get over yourself. Haven’t you learned by now who we are and the power we hold? Nobody can change us,” she growled. “We're doomed, and so are you.”

  Gazing up, Claire grimaced at the pain in the impure soul's eyes. “Kari,” she stated flatly.

  “What of it?” Kari replied with a rumbling roar. “I see you escaped for a short while, but now you’re back for more punishment.”

  “Why, Kari? Why are you doing this? You want me to embrace you, and you know it. You need to feel the goodness rubbing against your rotting flesh. Look what I have wrought over this land.” She held out her arms. “Our lives are fresh in your mind, and you want what I've achieved.”

  “I do not! I want to stay here and play with Maddie Ann.”

  As they grappled with good and evil, Claire realized using logic on a lost soul wouldn't work. She braced herself. She grabbed Kari's head, pulling her nose-to-nose and giving her a hard stare right into her devilish eyes. Kari struggled as Claire sent a surge of light penetrating her body. Boring into her soul, she cleansed Kari from the vileness that held her soul; set her free from the evil disease that plagued her.

  Claire wrapped her arms around Kari in a giant bear hug and held her tight, refusing to give in. A powerful gust of thick, putrid air hissed from Kari's mouth and tried to wedge its way between them, knocking Claire and Kari to the ground.

  Claire grabbed Kari's face again. Once more staring into Kari's eyes, she watched her pitch-black eyes turn blue again, like sunlight through an ocean wave. Kari’s cold heart melted and came alive, thumping strongly. A radiant glow washed her face. She returned Kari's innocent soul to purity and light; free to soar among the clouds. Weakness riddled Claire when she finally let go of her and they both fell back on the ground.

  Finally able to stand, Kari's miraculously renewed spirit stared into her friend’s eyes and spoke softly, “Thank you, Claire. You were there for me and I'll never forget it. You never ceased trying to save us.” She helped Claire to her feet, placing a gentle kiss on her smooth cheek, then lifted into the air and vanished into a shaft of light streaking across the sky.

  ***

  Lying in bed under the warm covers, Tom flicked the remote control, looking for something to watch. He tried to distract his troubled mind after all he and Jake had endured that day. Images of the little girl's ghastly face kept flashing through his head, giving him the creeps. Damn, you’d think a person could get some peace in his own home, but I guess not me tonight, he mumbled, irritated.

  As the TV droned on, Tom grew drowsy and realized he needed to get some rest. He had a busy day ahead of him. He clicked off the TV, laid his head against the soft pillow, and fell into a fitful sleep.

  In the pre-dawn gloom, a loud noise shot him straight up from his bed. His eyes went wide and he turned pasty white. Tiptoeing across the room, he watched bold letters appear in the mirror above his dresser, like somebody writing on a steamy window.

  You are a notty boy, Tom Brown. You shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to you. The next time, I will get you!

  Jumping back on his bed, he placed his hand on his chest and took a deep breath. Holy Crap…. When his heart slowed down, he got off the bed, feeling sheepish. He looked over at the clock. It was only 4:30 in the morning, but there was no point in trying to sleep now. “Okay, Maddie Ann, you wanna play that game? Bring it on, sister,” he uttered, feeling ridiculous. He grabbed his gun, in case he needed it.

  He snatched the phone and called Jake. After four rings, he heard a faint voice.

  “Hello,” Jake answered, obviously half asleep.

  “You’ve got to get over here now,” Tom hollered, scratching his cheek.

  “Tommy, is that you?”

  “You are not going to believe what happened.”

  “What, man? It's four-thirty in the morning.”

  Tom knew Jake hated his sleep disturbed, but this was important. “Maddie Ann is after me. She was right here in my room and she left a message on my mirror.”

  “Listen Tommy, I’m tired as hell. Can’t we discuss this in the morning?” He yawned broadly.

  “No, it can’t wait.”

  “Okay, okay. Let me get my pants on, and I’ll be right over,” Jake moaned, responding to the panic in his partner's voice.

  Tom hung up the receiver, jumped up, and grabbed his jeans off the foot of his bed. He walked to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, absently scratching the left side of his face where a sharp itch tickled. He paced the floor waiting for Jake, and pondered what it all meant. How in the hell do you fight a ghost? Plopping his butt down at the table, he sipped at a cup of java, burning his tongue when he heard a loud rapping sound at the door.

  “Hey, let me in man. It’s Jake. I’m freezing my tail off out here,” he yelled. “I come bear
ing gifts.”

  “Keep your shorts on, I’m coming.” Letting him in, Tom was surprised to see him drop a pink box of Krispy Kremes on the table. He led him straight back to his bedroom and pointed at the writing on the mirror.

  Baffled, Jake asked, “What do you want to show me? I don't see anything but a bed, a dresser and a mirror.”

  Tom wondered if the boy had gone blind. The writing was in bold black letters. Anyone standing a yard a way could see what it said. “Right here, on the mirror. Look what it says,” he said poking his finger against the glass.

  “Where, I don’t see anything but my reflection,” he replied.

  “Look right there. You mean to tell me you can’t see the black letters?” He pointed at the mirror's surface. “Look sideways a little.”

  “No, what am I supposed to be looking at?” Jake asked, tilting his head.

  “It says: You are a notty boy, Tom Brown. You shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to you. The next time, I will get you! And she misspelled 'naughty'. It has to be the kid.” At this point, Tom wasn’t too sure of his sanity. If Jake couldn’t see the writing, how was he to convince him? Patting him on the back, Jake turned around and went into the kitchen.

  “Wait!” Tom shouted. “It just appeared on my mirror out of nowhere.”

  “I’m getting a cup of coffee and I’m stuffing my face with doughnuts. You're delusional and need to get some sleep.”

  Tom walked dejectedly behind him down the hall, scratching his cheek in bewilderment. Sitting at the table with Jake, pain rocketed through his temples. Tom rubbed his forehead to ease the tension.

  “What’s the matter, got a headache?” he asked.

  “It feels like a migraine coming on, but maybe it’s from not eating. I haven't been hungry until now.” Tom grabbed a doughnut and shoved it in his mouth.

  “Feel better?”

  “I’m getting there, but I’m still shaky,” he replied, swigging down a gulp of tepid coffee.

  “Well, hey, if you’d rather stay home today and get some rest, I’ll cover for you down at the station,” Jake told him while munching down his second doughnut.

  “Nah, I have to go in. I’ll be fine once we leave,” Tom replied, heading for his bedroom to dress. He returned ten minutes later looking like a detective should—navy blue suit, white shirt, black shoes. His uniform. “Let’s go then. You're driving today.”

  Shutting off the coffeepot and all but one of the lights, they walked out the door. As they got in the car to drive away, a flash of light bolted through Tom’s window, temporarily blinding him. “Hey, do you mind if I roll down my window? It’s stuffy in here,” Tom asked, feeling rather flushed.

  “Go for it. It’s not that cold out. After all, it’s a shame to miss such decent morning air,” Jake grinned at him.

  ***

  Cruising along the early morning countryside, Tom glanced over to comment, and Jake’s smile faded. “What?” he asked.

  Jake reached out and pressed his finger against the infected skin. “Geez, man, have you looked at your face lately? There’s a nasty infection across your cheek.”

  Tom pulled down the visor to look in the mirror. Green puss oozed from the handprint-shaped sore. Red streaks ran all through the side of his face. He touched it gingerly. No wonder it had itched him for hours.

  “It looks bad, Tom. Did Maddie Ann do all that?” Jake questioned. He looked about to barf. “I think you should go to the hospital and have a doctor take a look at it, if you want my honest opinion. You need some antibiotics.”

  Tom grabbed a fast-food napkin from the glove box and held it against his oozing cheek. “Okay, maybe you're right. Drop me off at the hospital and get your ass to work. When I’m finished, I'll call you and you can swing back by and get me.”

  Pulling in at the entrance to the emergency room, Tom got out and went in. He walked through the double doors; the waiting room sat empty. Good. Hospitals made Tom uneasy—people died in here—and the quicker things went, the better he'd feel. His stomach doing flip-flops as he held the napkin tightly to his face, he went up to the desk, signed in, then sat down in the waiting room to fill out four different forms.

  “Tom Brown,” the nurse called ten minutes later.

  “Here,” he answered.

  Tom rose from the seat and headed past the nurses station down a long hallway. After the nurse weighed him, he entered an exam cubicle, removed his shirt, then shivered when a gust of cold air wormed its way up his back. Taking a seat, he squirmed around and debated on whether he should run.

  “Are you, all right, sir?” the nurse asked.

  “Yeah, I’m not too fond of hospitals. They give me the willies,” he said smiling.

  “Mr. Brown, we’re not gonna bite you.” She stuck a thermometer in his mouth and strapped on a blood pressure cuff. The nurse had a smile dancing on the corner of her mouth. Tom caught a glimpse and bowed his head in embarrassment.

  “You have a low-grade fever and your blood pressure seems slightly elevated. Okay, what's going on with you today?” she asked. He heard the flirty giggle in her throat.

  He lifted the napkin away and pointed to his face. Her smile died. “My goodness, that’s a mess. How did you do that?”

  “It's just a scratch. It looks worse than it feels.”

  “I'm so sorry. Please put this gown on. The doctor will be right in,” she said, shutting the door.

  Tom slipped his arms through the paper jacket the nurse handed him. He grabbed a Reader's Digest and sat on the examination table. Before he read two words, the doctor walked in wearing a bright lime green Hawaiian shirt, with matching green pants. It took all Tom had not to comment on the clothes. Or laugh, for that matter.

  “Hi, Tom, I’m Dr. Harris. Can you tell me what happened here?” he asked feeling around the flesh near the wound. He stuck a stethoscope to Tom's chest.

  “Well, I’m not sure how it happened. The other day I was out at Old Creek Cemetery during an investigation, and I somehow scraped it,” he explained.

  “It looks infected, so I’m going to have the nurse clean it out, bandage it and I'll prescribe you with some oral antibiotics. We'll give you a shot to jump-start the healing,” Dr. Harris said, assuring him he wasn’t going to keel over from the infection. “How long has it been since you had a tetanus shot?”

  “Good grief, I don't know. Years, probably,” he said with a surprised look. Tom hated needles.

  “You probably need a booster. I want you to clean and bandage the area twice a day. Be sure to take all the antibiotics, and call if it doesn’t start clearing within a few days.”

  Full of apprehension, Tom wanted to get the heck out of there. After shaking Tom’s hand, Dr. Harris walked out of the room. Sitting there waiting for the nurse to come back with his shots, he felt the weird sick feeling in the pit of his stomach again. He tried to avoid the urge to puke. Tom put a smile on his face just as the nurse came through the door with two huge needles that looked about a foot long to him. She had him bend over the table and lower his pants. She wasn’t exactly gentle as she administered the shots.

  “There you go, Mr. Brown. Here are some gauze pads and an antiseptic ointment, and instructions for using them.” She handed him a small plastic sack. “You can pick up your prescription at the pharmacy on the way out,” she said, smiling.

  “That’s it, you’re done?” he asked surprised at how quickly it went.

  She nodded. “Now make sure you take the antibiotics exactly as prescribed, and take ALL of them.”

  “Will do, and thanks,” he said feeling a sense of relief. Putting his shirt back on, he went out to call Jake.

  Chapter Thirty

  The Monday after Thanksgiving, a blood-red sun crept over the horizon. It looked to be a stormy day, with maybe even a few snowflakes thrown in. Cindy allowed Jennifer to go to the mall while she and Steve had some alone time. It had been awhile since they could actually talk.

  “I hope Jennifer’s oka
y. I’m so worried about her.” Looking over at Steve, Cindy watched as he sipped on his coffee while reading the paper. He never heard a word she said. Grabbing a napkin, Cindy crumpled it and threw it at him.

  “Hey, what was that for?” he asked.

  “You’re not listening to me,” she shouted.

  “What? I’m trying to read the paper. What’d you say?”

  “I said I hope Jennifer’s fine, that’s what. Go upstairs and clean your ears,” Cindy replied sarcastically.