What Happened to Anna?

by Jennifer Robins

  She had everything ready and on the table by the time he returned from his shower. She’d even set a plate of oatmeal cookies out for dessert. John ate like he hadn’t eaten in days, but Andrea couldn’t take more than one bite. She set the sandwich down on her plate and got up to get a glass of water. At least John wasn’t talking about moving again. He remained strangely quiet. Having no desire for another argument with him, she refrained from striking up a conversation.

  She felt his gaze on her while she wiped the counter, her back to him. “Doesn’t it bother you to wear that ring?” he asked. When she ignored his question, he went on, ”Not that I believe all that stuff in the ledger, but the ring once belonged to a woman who… a woman who maybe met some wrong-doing… like maybe was murdered. I would think you’d have some reservations about wearing it.”

  “No, John, it doesn’t bother me. Why should it? This ring is very beautiful, and I happen to like it.” She held her hand up to admire it.

  Before John could say another word, a distant roll of thunder brought him to his feet. “I better get the lawn mower in the shed before it rains. We can talk about this later.” He went out the back door. More thunder roared across the darkened skies.

  Almost immediately, the first drops of rain hit the window over the sink. Andrea closed it, then went through the house to close the other windows, ending up in the bedroom. John was wet when he came up. “I knew it was going to rain. It’s been getting cloudy for the last hour. I’m glad I got the grass cut before it hit.”

  John took his wet clothes off and put on a robe. Andrea sat in the chair by the window, watching the rain. He left the room for a moment, returned with a towel, and then sat on the bed and rubbed the towel over his head in a fast and furious motion. It seemed as though he was angry, but his voice had a mellow tone to it. “You know, Andrea, if we had an apartment in town, you could make new friends and get back to a life like you had before. You had a lot of friends in Chicago, and you did many things that you enjoyed.” He wiped the side of his head and down his neck. “You had the church group, the people at the hospital, and others. This is silly that we’re going through all of this. We don’t even know what it really is. Even though I have to admit that something very weird is going on here, I don’t want to hear you talking about ghosts all the time. When I think about the freezing and things you told me, I want to get out of here right now.” He kept babbling on while she continued to stare out the window with her back to him.

  “Let’s not worry about it tonight. We’re both tired and need some rest.” She got up and went to the closet for her nightgown. Taking her clothes off, she walked to the bed.

  He gazed at her naked body, taking in every inch of her. Before she had a chance to put her nightgown on, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down on the bed next to him. “Come on, babe.”

  Andrea felt his passion the second she lay next to him. Her own desire ignited as he pulled her close. The wonderful moments that followed made her realize just how much she loved her husband.

  While he slept, she lay awake for hours. The sound of the rain outside gradually diminished and stopped, leaving it hot and humid. She got out of bed and went to the window to open it, in hopes of some cool breeze that would spare her from having to turn on the air conditioning.

  Sad and perplexed, she sat in the chair by the open window and listened to the sounds of the night. Tears streamed down her face as she thought of her wonderful life with John and how everything happening could destroy their dreams. Maybe John is right. Moving out of the house could be best. She didn’t want to think so, but it could be the only way.

  Tired and more confused than ever, she returned to the bed. Sleep eventually came, but only after lying awake a long time sorting through her feelings.

  Just before dawn, she awakened to find herself standing in the hallway outside the bedroom. It was dark, but she could see the door to the attic was wide open. She stood very still, listening for any kind of sound. It was dreadfully quiet. Slowly, she began to inch her way down the hallway, staying close to the wall.

  In the dense, dark stillness came a voice, softened as if by distance. She backed up against the wall and waited, not moving a muscle. Mumbles reached her ears, but nothing she could make out. Then from nowhere came the same awful crying she’d heard all the other times — clear and distinct, the sorrowful sobbing that penetrated her soul. She knew it had to be Anna. No doubt in her mind. If only John could look at this the way I do. Maybe then he would consider helping me do something for this woman.

  Moving backward while hugging the wall, she made her way back to the bedroom. Shaking all over, she called, “John! John!” She bent over him and said his name in a softer voice. “John.”

  Then, as abruptly as it had started, the crying stopped. Dreaded silence filled the house. Not even the floorboards that so often creaked made a sound. Slowly, she went to the other side of the bed. John never even stirred.

  Dim morning light now came in the window, streaming across the room while the birds outside began chirping. The clock on the bed stand read five-thirty. John turned over, but went on sleeping. She no longer wanted to wake him. Quietly, she went to the chair by the window and sat down. Her thoughts were on Anna. What did this ghost woman want from her?

  Vaguely, she remembered having a dream just before she’d woken in the hallway. She had never sleepwalked before and thought it odd that she had now. Although the dream wasn’t clear, she knew it had been about the man in all of the others. She pictured herself with his arms around her, his strong body against hers, the awareness of his arousal. These images made her feel relaxed, gave her a serene and uninhibited sense of well-being.

  Nothing else existed but her mental image of him. He was so wonderful, so intriguing — she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Even the music ran through her mind over and over, the same beautiful Austrian waltz. In slow motion, Andrea stood up and left the bedroom. She wasn’t afraid as she walked down the hallway to the attic door. Her hand reached out for the doorknob. The door opened easily. The stairway leading up to the attic was very dark. She stood still in front of the open door, waiting for something, but she didn’t really know what.

  Suddenly, a hand touched her wrist. A cold chill came over her. Her knees began to buckle, her whole body going limp. Someone lifted her from the floor. The ceiling above her swirled around in a circle. She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t make a sound. Then she lost consciousness.

  John’s voice came loud and clear as his hand touched her cheek. “Andrea? Come on, babe.” She opened her eyes to find the bed beneath her and John standing over her, a worried look on his face. With one hand he stroked her head.

  In a feeble attempt to speak, she asked, “What happened? How did I get here?” She tried to sit up but became dizzy and quickly lay back down.

  “You fainted. Just take it easy and relax. Everything is okay. Can you tell me what happened? Why were you standing by the attic door? Did something happen again?”

  “I don’t know what happened. I just got dizzy. I feel very strange, that’s all.”

  “Don’t try to hide things from me. I want you to tell me what happened,” he demanded.

  She turned away from him so he couldn’t see her face. “It’s nothing. I thought I heard something out in the hallway, and I got up to see what it was. The old floorboards in this house make noises, especially at night. I think that’s all it was.”

  “So why did you faint?”

  “I don’t know why I fainted. I don’t feel good…it might be the flu. Maybe I’m just overtired. You don’t need to badger me with questions like this.” Having said that, she pulled the blanket up and tucked the pillow under her head. Her hands still shook and she felt lightheaded, but she kept her composure.

  As John started out of the room, he said, “I’m going downstairs to make some coffee. Would you like a cup?”

  She looked at him and nodded.

  “Just stay there and
I’ll bring it up to you.”

  The light of the morning sun came flowing through the window. It was cooler this morning than it had been the day before — even a little brisk. She hugged the blanket as she lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. It was hard to believe she’d been sleepwalking during a dream she couldn’t remember clearly. Unlike all the other dreams, which had been vivid and distinct, this one had been vague. The only clear thing had been the handsome man — very frustrating for her.

  All she wanted was to end this and go on living happily in the wonderful old house she loved so much. It might take some time, and she would have to stand up to John about moving, but she was more determined than ever to find a solution to the problem.

  ****

  Downstairs in the kitchen, John started a pot of coffee brewing. He sat at the table worrying over Andrea’s behavior. He was sure she needed to see a doctor, but how could he get her to go?

  When the coffee was done, he poured a cup for himself and one for Andrea, and carried them upstairs. As he handed over her cup, he felt her forehead. “You don’t feel warm,” he said as he looked at her with a searching expression.

  Andrea took a sip of the coffee. “I’m all right. I just need rest.”

  John glanced over at the clock. It was getting late, and he had to get to the office. “All right, Andrea. I’ll leave you be, but if you feel worse at any time today, I want you to call me right away. Do you hear me?”

  Andrea agreed to do as he asked. He dressed and was soon ready to leave the house. He walked over to the bed and sat next to Andrea. Taking her hand in his, he said, “I love you. Take it easy today, and call if you need me. I’ll check with you later.”

  When she heard the car pull out of the driveway, she laid her head on the pillow. In a short time she began to doze off. The cool morning breeze coming in from the window soothed her and helped her sleep peacefully.

  On his way to the office, John kept thinking about his lovely wife. He worried about her so much these days and didn’t know what to do, but he knew he had to do something.

  There was no one at the office when he arrived. He hit the light switch, and then put the coffee on. The calendar on his desk held the day’s schedule. It looked to be a busy one. Judy, the receptionist, came in as he poured a cup of the freshly brewed coffee. She smiled and joked about the fact he was there so early he’d had made the coffee. In her early twenties, with red hair, a freckled face, and a cute figure, Judy had a way of making everyone feel good with her cheerful attitude.

  John wasn’t in a talkative mood. He sat at his desk looking over files, trying to concentrate on work. Judy, obviously seeing that he wasn’t himself that morning, went about her duties without saying another word.

  Soon Gale, his secretary, arrived. She went right to his office. “Did you look over the Johnson file?” she asked as she approached his desk.

  “Not yet. Where is it?” He shuffled the files in front of him.

  She pointed to the top folder. “It’s right there. They want more coverage on that building they put up last year.”

  John started to look through all of the files on his desk as though he had not heard a word she’d said. Gale looked at him quizzically. “It’s the one on top. Right there.” She pointed to the folder right in front of him. “Hello, Mr. Devon? Are you awake this morning? Maybe you should have more coffee?” She laughed.

  Normally John would have taken her remark in jest, but this particular morning he was extremely nervous. “I don’t need your stupid remarks, Gale. That’s not what I’m paying you for.”

  Gale’s face flushed in embarrassment. She turned and scurried out of his office. He regretted hurting her feelings and went quickly to the outer office. “Gale, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come at you that way. It’s just that I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. It’s nothing about the office here, just some personal things. I shouldn’t take it out on you. Please forgive me?”

  Gale nodded as an acknowledgment of his apology.

  The work had been piling up at the office. John knew he had to concentrate on getting things done. He returned to his desk and started to make calls in the order they were listed. By nine-thirty, he just had to call Andrea to see how she was doing.

  She had been sleeping when the phone rang. She answered in a soft voice. “Hello?”

  “Hi, babe.” John thought she sounded terrible. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. I was sleeping.” Andrea swung her legs out and over the side of the bed with the phone held to her ear.

  “I need to know that you’re all right. Please think about this, and what it’s doing to you.”

  Andrea interrupted him. “I feel just fine, John. How many times do I have to tell you? There’s nothing to worry about. Just leave me alone.”

  “We need to talk when I get home tonight. This whole thing is getting very serious. It’s all I think about anymore. I have a hard time doing my job here at the office. Something has to change.”

  After his call, he sat staring out the window for a long time, his thoughts fixed on how to convince Andrea to move out of the house. An idea popped into his mind. He called Gale to his office and asked her if she knew of any apartments in the area close to the square.

  “There are some on Washington Street. They’re located just a few blocks from here.”

  John stood up and walked to the window. “You wouldn’t know if there are any vacancies there, would you?”

  “No, I don’t, but I can check it for you,” she said. “I’ll get the phone directory out and look up the number.”

  “No, that’s all right. I’ll look into it myself. Thank you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Andrea lay back down in bed and watched the curtains flow back and forth with the breeze coming in. Her eyes began to close, though she tried to keep them open. She drifted off to sleep again. Immediately she began to dream.

  This dream was very clear, not fuzzy or confused. Her bed became a beautiful canopy bed with white, lacy ruffles around the top. A matching hand-quilted spread lay folded back at the foot of the mattress. Down-filled pillows were covered with exquisitely embroidered linen cases. The room came alive with flowered Victorian wallpaper, paintings of landscapes and flowers, and olive green velvet drapes on the window. A rocking chair with a handmade seat pad and back cover sat beside the window. Across the room, a large stately dresser stood against the wall, with a long mirror hung above it. The small, round table next to the bed held a vase with flowers in it.

  In the doorway, the tall, handsome man appeared. A warm sensation came over her when she saw him. It was a wonderful surprise to find him standing there with a pleasant smile on his face. Her heart skipped a beat.

  Slowly, the fine gentleman walked over to the bed. He stood over her like a great Viking. Her spine tingled with excitement as she gazed up at him. The flickering light from the oil lamp on the bed stand sparkled in his emerald green eyes.

  Her pulse raced as he pulled his shirt up over his head and took it off. He smiled at her while he continued to undress. His masculine body stood, magnificently strong, next to the bed. With the ease of a cat, he lowered himself down on the bed next to her. Her breath came in gasps. Excitement overwhelmed her.

  He put his arms around her waist to draw her tightly up against him. He kissed her softly on the neck. The heat of her passion rose.

  Suddenly he disappeared. Quickly she sat up and looked around the room. He was nowhere to be found. She rose from the canopied bed and rushed out into the hallway. The grandfather clock she’d seen in her previous visions began to chime. She walked toward the staircase, looking at the paintings on the walls.

  When she came to the stairs, she looked across the hallway at the attic door. Could he be in there? She went to the attic door and opened it.

  One step after the other, she climbed the dark, narrow staircase to the attic. In a shaky voice, she called out, “Where are you? Please come back.” Still, noth
ing but silence as she continued up the stairs.

  The stuffy attic air hit her like heat from an open oven. When she reached the top, she looked around, trying to see something in the thick darkness. Her body moved along, weightless, and she began to glide across the floor as if floating. The air began to grow cooler, but in the silent darkness she felt relaxed and at ease, no longer afraid.

  A loud ringing noise startled her, and she froze. She moved quickly toward the stairs. The ringing continued, and she wanted it to stop. It penetrated her ears like a siren. When she tried to yell, nothing came from her mouth. Her feet moved as though she were running, but she couldn’t see exactly where she was headed.

  With a jolt, she sat up in bed. Trembling all over, she scanned the room. Everything was back to normal. She sat in her modern bed, shaken and unable to answer the ringing phone. Finally, it stopped.

  She scrambled to her feet and hurried out into the hallway. The sunlight flowed in from the long window. The attic door was closed, and everything else was it should be. The phone began to ring again.

  Andrea went back to the bedroom and picked it up. John’s voice came through loud and clear. “Where were you? I’ve been calling. I let the phone ring for a long time. What’s going on?”

  His shouting annoyed her, and she lashed out at him. “I’m trying to get some sleep. Why are you calling me, anyway? You know I wanted to stay in bed for a while. Can’t you just leave me alone?”

  “Andrea, it’s noon. You must have been in a sound sleep. You don’t have to get so nasty. I just wanted to know how you were doing. Remember, you fainted? It left me a little concerned.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me. I keep telling you, I’m all right. I’ll talk to you later.”

  After she hung up, she noticed her bare feet were soiled along the sides and on the bottom, as though she had been walking down a dirt road — or up in a dusty, dirty attic.