Mike backed the truck up close to the entrance. Barb stood on a small hill directing him. When the tailgate became even with the hill, he put it in park and got out.
“How’s it look back there?” he asked his wife whose attention wandered from the crowd coming in and out of the fairgrounds.
She gazed off. “Uh huh, okay,” she replied.
Mike stormed to the back of the truck. “Yo, earth to Barb! We have a crap load of furniture to set up, so I suggest you get your rumpus in gear and help me. Otherwise, we’ll be out here all freakin' night.” Mike looked pissed.
Barb gave him her full attention. “Wait, Mike, I don’t think I can do this,” she said, feeling queasy as she slumped to the ground. “I'm not over Claire’s passing, and I see her face all over this place.”
Mike threw up his blistered, work-worn hands and sighed. He shook his head, while he sat down next to her on the grassy knoll overlooking the graveled parking lot. “Listen, we may not have Claire with us in the flesh, but she’ll be here in our hearts,” he whispered. “I know this is difficult Barb, but we can’t stop living just because our daughter passed away. She of all people would tell you the same thing.”
Barbara gazed into his blue eyes and cracked a nervous smile. She had to learn how to live again, and beating herself up like this was not the answer. “You’re right, Honey. Claire would kick our ass for acting this silly. Okay, I’ll bend a little and help. You have to understand what I’m going through,” she explained. “This is hard for me.” Tears rained down her face even through her tremulous smile. Everything Mike said made sense to her; but she couldn’t shake the emptiness inside.
As he started offloading the cabinets, she helped him by grabbing hold of the other end and helped carry it inside to their booth. Mike looked around with a smile. “That’s the spirit, Honey. I’m glad to see you’re bucking up.”
Barb grinned from ear to ear and chuckled under her breath. It seemed funny to hear her hubby pay her a compliment. The furniture-selling business might not make life entirely bad after all. At least Mike included her.
***
Walking upstairs with a food tray in his hand, Steve hoped he could get Cindy to eat it. He laid the tray across her lap. She sat at the foot of Jennifer's bed with her head tilted against the padded footboard. Her eyes looked swollen from crying. He stood staring at his pitiful wife because he didn't know what to do to make the situation better for her. She hadn’t eaten much for two days and he knew if she didn’t eat, she’d become as deathly ill as their daughter.
“Here, Sweetheart, I thought you might be hungry.”
She slid the tray across the end of the bed and rested her forehead against her hand. “I don’t want anything, thank you,” she replied faintly.
“Are you sure? You’ve got to eat something, Cindy, or you’re going to make yourself sick,” he added, rubbing his hand on her back.
Cindy jerked away from her husband and lay down beside her comatose daughter. “Oh, please, I don’t need comforting. What I need is to get the hell out of Wisconsin, so we can move on with our lives. So stop babying me, will ya?”
“Honey, please talk to me. I’m as scared for her as you are. But hiding away in your own world is not going to bring her back,” he whispered.
She turned away to hide her face. He inched closer to touch her arm, and she smacked his hand away. Steve got up from the bed and left the room.
When Cindy heard the bedroom door close, she jumped up and walked into the bathroom to get a cool washcloth to wipe Jennifer’s sweaty face. She wanted Jennifer to wake feeling clean. So she did what any mother would do, she combed her hair and braided it. As she primped her daughter, she kept up a monologue. Maybe she’d open her eyes like last time.
“Sweetie, can you hear me? Please open your eyes for me, Jennifer; I need you to open your eyes. Tell mommy where you are, so I can get you home,” she cried. No response. She felt ridiculous continuing to beg. If Maddie Ann had her mitts on her, she might never have a life with her daughter again.
Cindy opened the windows to welcome in the pleasant afternoon sunshine and the cool, crisp fall air. The room became brighter and filled with the scent of nature. She watched Jennifer’s beloved face glow. With rosy cheeks and pink lips, she looked like a perfect angel lying there. Lately Jennifer had stayed constantly getting sick and spending days in the hospital. The trauma she suffered since Halloween had devastated the entire family. Despair struck at Cindy's heart, prompting her to find out more about Old Creek Cemetery. If she wanted her daughter back, she needed to know what to do to fight for her. She grabbed her clothes from the floor, hurriedly put them on, and ran a brush through her matted hair.
Leaning over, she whispered in Jennifer's ear, “Mommy’s going to find you and when I do, I’m bringing you back. You might not understand me now, but you will. I love you Jennifer, don’t be afraid. If a mother's love can't save you, I don't know what will.”
Cindy kissed her on her forehead, and quietly opened the door. She snatched her purse from the landing, and darted down the steps. Steve sat watching TV in the family room.
“Where are you going?” he asked, getting up from his chair.
“I’m going to get Jennifer back because if I sit around and do nothing, she’ll be gone forever,” she said, yanking open the door.
“What do you mean you’re going to find her? She’s upstairs in bed.”
“No, you’re wrong. Maddie Ann has her, you know it, and I'll do whatever it takes to get her back. You know what Jennifer said and don’t act like it isn’t real,” she shouted darting toward the car.
He grabbed her arm and forced her back into the kitchen. “Are you crazy? You're trying to pull her in all kinds of directions, because you think you know what is going on. The truth is you don’t know what you’re doing. There is no way I’m going to let you drive off to kill yourself or God only knows what,” he said, giving her arm a good shake.
“Get your hands off me. Are you finished or do you want to continue to yell at me?” She jerked her arm back. “I refuse to sit and watch our seventeen-year-old daughter lay there and suffer. She has her whole life ahead of her and I’m going to make certain she gets well whether you want to help me or not,” she argued.
Steve shook his head at her. He walked over to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and sat back down. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think this has anything to do with spirits and demons. I think she’s sick because of post-traumatic stress disorder. She was lost in the countryside for four days, and then kidnapped. This is how she got this way, but you can believe what you want.” He threw his arms up in disgust.
“You don’t believe Maddie Ann's curse and all the other stuff she told us is true do you, Steve?” she asked, trembling. “You think she's lying to us. Well, I have to find out.”
“I don’t know where you think you're going, but hey, go for it. I don't want any part of it.”
Cindy lashed back. She snatched a glass resting on the counter and pitched it against the wall, watching it shatter. “All I ask of you is to keep an eye on Jennifer until I get back. Out of the goodness of your heart, you could at least show concern for her, but I can see your heart has turned as black as Maddie Ann's has. So I’m going to do it myself and I'll see you when I return.”
Sitting in the chair with his mouth in a tight line, he didn’t say another word. Cindy grabbed her purse and rummaged for her prescription sunglasses. When she found them wedged down in her checkbook, she stormed out the garage door.
***
After Cindy took off in search of some information about the cemetery, Steven decided to lie down beside Jennifer in case something happened. Lying prone with his hands stroking her back, he noticed her shallow breathing. He watched her sleeping eyes wander beneath their translucent lids. A frown scowled her face. He touched her soft cheek then yanked his hand away from the bitter cold of her skin. As he placed her hand against his face, a message etched in the palm of her
hand.
“I am where I belong.”
He stood frightened and confused. The bed shook, jerking Jennifer around on the mattress. Pinning her down, he yelled at her, hoping she’d hear his voice. “Sweetheart, it’s Daddy! Follow my voice and I'll find you, I promise.” Steve had no control over Jennifer's life or her death. He knew why, too, but couldn’t say it aloud, for he knew what could happen to him and his family. Not one word of it could part his lips.
Steve had a history of his own with the Watsons, one he didn’t want anyone to know about. Even if his family cared to listen, they probably wouldn’t believe it. Many things about him he kept a secret from his family to protect them. He’d lived through many more frightening episodes than Jennifer would ever see in her lifetime. She wasn't responding to anyone now, lost in her own world, but he knew her mind functioned in there somewhere.
***
Driving toward town, Cindy decided to try the library first. Old Creek appeared like a ghost town out of an old western. She'd forgotten about the Holiday Festival going on. With almost everyone in the Town Square, she pressed her luck the library would even be open. Sure enough, when she pulled into the parking lot, strings of cars parked along the building. Great, she said aloud and got out. Pushing the heavy door open, she walked in, heading straight toward the back.
Cindy made her way through the aisles of books to the card catalog. She flipped the cards impatiently, but didn’t see anything listed about the cemetery, so she turned to ask someone. As she turned the corner, she bumped into the librarian, scaring her out of her skin.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ma’am,” she said, holding her chest.
“That’s all right, Dear,” said the librarian with a smile.
As she watched the older woman placing the returned books on the shelves, Cindy interrupted her. “Ma’am, I hate to bother you, but I’m desperate to find history on Old Creek Cemetery,” she explained.
The old woman’s hands trembled, dropping two books on the floor. Her face slowly turned white as powder as she broke out into a sweat.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” Cindy asked with concern.
She reached for the cart to keep her balance, pulled out a piece of paper and jotted down something.
“Thank you, ma’am, this means a lot to me,” Cindy told her, heading to the back of the library. A strange feeling came over Cindy. She crept down the narrow circular staircase to the storage room. Glancing back, the librarian shook her head at her foolishness. She wasn’t too concerned whether the woman liked the idea of her research project. Jennifer needed help.
She flipped on the light switch at the bottom of the stairs, and saw boxes of newspaper clippings lining the mahogany shelves. A big maple table sat in the middle of the room. Opening one box after another, she thumbed through them so she wouldn’t miss anything that might be of importance to her. As she sat in a chair, a red box placed on a high shelf jutted out at her. Out of curiosity, she slid the chair against the bookcase and grabbed the box.
Struggling with the heaviness of it, she placed it on the table and lifted the lid to open it. I hope this is what I’m looking for, she whispered. To her surprise, old photos revealed a large family with several children, all with the surname of Watson. The pictures had their names and ages on the back. She studied them, and became startled after reading a name she heard mentioned often. That’s Maddie Ann. Cindy’s eyes got big as she swished back and forth in the swivel chair.
She tossed the old picture down on the table, connected the face with the story she'd read and realized this was the child who died when she fell down a well shaft. Cindy dug deeper into the box. She pulled out a locket with a golden blond curl attached to it. She opened it to see what was inside the heart-shaped pendant. A dark-haired woman's picture was inside, as well as one of the blonde girl. The inscription said, “I'll love you forever, Maddie Ann.” Somehow, she knew the locket was important. Then, tucked away at the bottom of the box, she found a cryptic riddle written on an old piece of parchment.
Cindy wrote the riddle down and put the papers and all but the locket back where she found them. Holding the precious message in her hand, she felt bad for reading the family’s secret, but she instinctively knew she needed it to save Jennifer. Before ascending the steps, she folded the paper around the locket and stuck it in her purse. The next move was for her to figure out what the message meant. If she couldn’t figure it out, what purpose did it serve? She knew no one wanted to talk to her about it. Just by saying “Old Creek Cemetery,” people looked at you as if you asked them to sever an arm or something. As Cindy passed by to leave, the librarian looked ill. Running to the car, Cindy jumped in and locked the doors, feeling a chill wash over her.
Cindy remembered once or twice as a child her grandmother taking her to see an old woman named Madam Feline who told fortunes. Thinking she somehow might help explain the riddle, she drove across town to see if she remembered where she lived. Driving along the narrow dirt driveway under large trees shading the property, Cindy came upon the barn-red house with white shutters bracketing the windows.
The tiny yard stood tall with grass and weeds, but she fixed it the moment she mowed it down with the tires on her car. Parking on the far side of the house, she slowly got out and studied the old place. As she walked closer to the rickety front porch, an eye peeked out through the curtains, giving her a creepy vibe. She wanted to turn around and forget the whole thing, but before she had a chance to flee, the door opened.
“Wait,” she heard as she started to walk away.
She turned around to see the face that called to her, and saw a woman about seventy years old. The woman had silvery hair in braids midway down her back with long red fingernails. She wore a full, flowing dress covered in shiny sequins. As she stood speechless, the woman motioned for her to come in, and then vanished. Cindy took baby steps to the door. She peeked around the doorframe to see where the women went.
“Hello,” she yelled, trying to get her attention.
“Come this way, Cindy, I’ve been expecting you.”
With eyes as big as saucers, she slowly crept through the house in search of Madam Feline. Cindy followed the traveling voice into a beaded wall in the center of a room. The moment her fingers touched the beads to part them, the old woman appeared before her. “Come now, I don’t bite.”
She took a seat at a round table and neatly laid her hands in her lap. Something didn't feel right. Madam Feline said she remembered her well.
“How’d you remember my name?” she asked, feeling a bit leery. “I mean, it’s been years since you saw me last.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve known you since you were knee-high to a grasshopper,” she explained. “Besides, I never forget a face or a scent.”
Cindy wanted to leave right then. Who remembered the scent of a person you'd only met once or twice? Not anyone she knew. The creepiness snuck up behind her and she couldn't move—not even an eyelash.
“I'm sure you don’t remember this, Dear, but when you were a child, your grandmother used to visit me for readings. And sometimes she would bring you along,” she said, smiling as she lit an incense cone in a copper pot.
“I vaguely remember. I'm surprised I remembered where you live. So what do you know about me and why were you expecting me?” Cindy asked, afraid to hear it.
“Your energy called out to me. I knew you were in trouble and needed my help. What you're planning is risky and I think you should know what you’re dealing with before you commit to it.”
Stunned, Cindy wasn’t sure if she wanted to go through with this.
“There in your pocketbook are two items I need. I will explain what they mean and then maybe you'll understand where to begin.”
Shocked that the old woman knew about the locket and the paper, Cindy reached in her handbag, pulled the folded paper out, and handed it over. Laying it in a crystal dish in the middle of the table, Madam Feline opened the folds and she received a message.
&nbs
p; Maddie Ann's headstone carries the key, to ending her reign of Old Creek's misery. If her hold on your life you're desirous to sever, put voice to the chant and release her forever.
Cindy couldn’t decide if she believed the nonsense and started to rise.
“Please, sit and let me show you something,” said Madam Feline.
Sitting back down, she knew she should not expose herself to this sort of activity; her religion forbade witchcraft and skullduggery. Cindy offered a quick, silent prayer to ask Jesus for forgiveness.
Maddie Ann s Playground Page 42
