She interrupted him. “No, John. The only reason you want to move is because of Anna, and what has been going on around here. I’m not going anywhere.”
It was the first real thing Andrea had said to him all day, but it was not what he wanted to hear. “You’ll have to face the facts one of these days. This can’t go on forever.” He fled to the living room, leaving her staring out of the window.
****
Soon the darkness of night began to close in on Andrea. The sun slipped below the horizon, and she began to think about sleep and dreaming about her lover.
John was quiet when he came up to the bedroom. He said nothing to her as he prepared for bed, apparently deep in thought. Andrea stayed in the chair by the window. After a half-hour, John sat up and looked at her. “Are you coming to bed?” A long, silent moment passed while he waited for her to answer. “Are you coming to bed?” he asked again.
Without saying a word, she stood up and walked to the closet. She stepped on the clothes lying on the floor. In a robotic motion, she took her clothes off and tossed them into the closet, where they landed on the floor. Then she went to the dresser and took out a nightgown from the drawer. For a few moments she stood still, holding it. Then she held the nightgown above her head and pulled it over her body.
Instead of going to the bed, she walked back to the chair at the window and sat down again. Aware of his desire to talk, she told him only to switch the light off. John reached over to the lamp on the bed stand and did just that.
In the silence of the darkened night, he soon fell asleep. She was pleased that he wouldn’t bother her anymore, at least not until morning. She had made up her mind — she would never leave the house, and he would never talk her into it.
After a while, she went quietly to the bed and lay down. A dream started the instant she closed her eyes. This dream, the best one of all, began with her lover making love to her. The heat of his breath touched her cheek as he whispered romantic things in her ear. “You are so beautiful, so lovely, my little one. I love you.”
They lay on the bed in an embrace. Andrea could not remember ever feeling such pleasure. He began to tell her of a wonderful place, painting a picture in her mind. A place so beautiful, with trees and a river running deep into the base of the mountains surrounding it. Colorful flowers. A river with water as clear and blue as the sky above it. Puffy, white clouds floated by. The vision was marvelous. She wanted to stay there forever.
Happiness flowed through her just being with him, but every dream came to an end with that woman crying. This one was no exception. The sound of the woman’s weeping overwhelmed Andrea, and she woke up. She wasn’t sure anymore if the sobbing woman was truly Anna. The only thing she knew for sure, she wanted it to stop interrupting her dreams—to stop coming between her and her lover.
****
In the days that followed, Andrea became more and more distant. Every morning John would get up, make the coffee, get dressed, and go to the office while she stayed in bed. When evening came, he would come home and fix dinner. He would try to talk to her, but his efforts were in vain. She would not listen to him or answer anything he asked. She wouldn’t answer the phone or take care of any of the household chores. Several times John came home in the middle of the afternoon to check on her, only to find her sleeping, or sitting in the bedroom by the window in a trance.
He was tremendously worried about her. Often, he asked her, “What’s wrong? Talk to me. Andrea, say something.” Only after he’d insisted for a long period of time would she utter a few words of resistance.
She wasn’t eating much, just a few bites of food at a time. Her condition worsened. She looked pale, and she’d lost weight. Dark circles framed her eyes. John knew he would have to seek help for her if she didn’t snap out of it soon.
On the second of August, a Sunday morning, John tried to talk her into going to church with him. “Come on, Andrea, we haven’t been to church in several weeks. The last time we went was when Peg and Tom were here. We used to go more often when we lived in Chicago. Since we’ve moved here, you’ve been so wrapped up in this house, you don’t even think about anything that once was important to you.”
John had never been a very strong churchgoer, but he felt compelled to attend Mass that morning, preferably with his wife beside him. He had high hopes that if she went, it might help the situation. He’d thought he could get her to go with him, but when he insisted on an answer she shook her head, ignoring his pleas.
Before he left, he brought her some toast and coffee, and said a little prayer that she would eat some of it. He set the tray down on the table next to the bed. “Andrea, here’s some breakfast. I’ll be home right after church is over. Try to at least eat the toast. You need to gain back some of your strength.”
****
He arrived at the church early and was able to park right in front. As he walked up the stairs to the entrance, he thought of what a beautiful morning it was, and how nice it would have been to have Andrea with him. The church filled up fast. The bells tolled three times, signaling the start of Mass.
When the service was over, he noticed the young priest who’d said the Mass standing in the vestibule, talking to people as they were leaving. John walked up to him. “Father?”
Father Clancy, a tall, slender man with thin blond hair, extended his hand to John. “Hello. You’re new here, aren’t you?” he asked as they shook hands.
“Yes, and I wanted to talk to you…”
A lady with a young boy beside her walked up and interrupted. “Father, you’ll be glad to know that Billy is going to summer school now and is doing much better.”
Father Clancy smiled at them. “That’s good news, Billy. I hope you study hard. It will pay off for you.” Billy smiled and trotted along with his mother out to the parking lot. Once again the priest turned to John. “We’re happy to have you with us.”
“Father, my name is John Devon. My wife and I just moved here from Chicago.”
“Chicago, huh? I have some close friends in the Windy City. How do you like it here?”
“We like it just fine, Father, but I was wondering if I could talk to you… ah… not about the town, but… something to do with my wife, and the house we are living in.”
“Oh, I would like to spend some time with you, but I have a baptism in a few minutes, and I’m invited to have lunch with the family afterward. Call my office tomorrow and make an appointment to come in.”
“Father, please, I have to see someone today. Is there another priest here I could talk to?” John swiped the side of his head with an open hand.
“I’m sorry, but there are only two of us here, and Father Thompson has already gone for the day. He’s visiting his sister this afternoon and won’t be back until late. If you have a problem with your marriage, you should set up an appointment with him. You and your wife should come in together. Please call tomorrow.” Father Clancy smiled and walked away.
John left the church, disappointed and depressed. He’d wanted very much to talk to a priest. Somehow he thought he could get some answers, but how could he tell a priest there was a ghost in his house? What could he say about Andrea and the way she’d been acting? It became clear that he would have to work things out for himself. He had to bring Andrea back to her senses and convince her to move out of that house.
By one-thirty John was back home. Andrea, still in bed, had not touched the toast or coffee. He approached her with a frown. “Andrea, you must be hungry by now. Over the last few days you haven’t eaten enough food to keep a bird alive. I can fix you lunch. Or better still, you could come down to the kitchen with me and help make us a nice roast beef dinner. How about it?”
In almost a whisper, she answered, “No. I’m not hungry. You go ahead.”
“All right then, I’ll fix dinner myself.” He held back from shouting at her, but inside he was very upset.
John had often observed Andrea making a beef roast, so he believed he could do it too.
But before he could start, the kitchen needed cleaning. It was a mess — dishes stacked in the sink, newspapers and mail piled up on the table. The floor hadn’t been swept in over a week, when he had last done it.
He managed to get everything done and put the roast in the oven by three o’clock. Andrea made no attempt to help him. Only once did she come down to the living room to sit on the sofa for a short time, then she went back up to the bedroom.
When the roast was done — not as good as Andrea would have made it, but it passed for edible — John took a plate up to her. “Hey, babe, look at this. Not bad, huh?” He set the tray with the plate he’d prepared on the bed. “Come on, try some of it and let me know how well I did.” He chuckled a little to show some lightheartedness.
Andrea sat up in the bed and looked at the food on the tray. When she started to turn away, John said, “Don’t put up a fuss before you even taste it. I spent the last couple of hours down in the kitchen making this for us. The least you could do is try it. It’s good.”
She speared a small bit of roast on her fork and lifted it to her mouth. Her eyes stared straight ahead as she put the food in her mouth.
“Well, how is it?” John asked when she took her next forkful. “Want some of the vegetables?” He pointed to the buttered peas and potatoes.
Andrea put the fork on the plate and laid her head back on the pillow.
“Andrea, if this keeps up, you leave me no choice but to call in a doctor. I’m getting really worried about the way you’re acting. There is something wrong here. I wish you would tell me what it is. Are you sick, or what?”
“Leave me alone,” she mumbled. “I’m not sick. I’m tired. I want to sleep.”
“Tired?” John shouted. “How can you be so tired when you sleep all the time? I hate to say it, Andrea, but you’re acting just like that crazy stuff we read in the ledger. Look what all of this is doing to you. This is even more reason why we should move out of here.”
Nothing he said seemed to move her. She didn’t even look at him when he spoke to her. Frustrated and feeling helpless, John went downstairs. Worrying about Andrea had become a constant thing for him, and he didn’t know what to do about it.
He left Andrea alone in the bedroom for the rest of the day while he kept busy out in the yard. He came in and checked on her a few times. Usually, she was sleeping. He stood by the doorway of the bedroom, gazing at her in the bed. She looked peaceful, but the thought of her condition brought tears to his eyes. He agonized over the idea of calling in a doctor.
When evening came, John talked her into coming down to the living room. He opened a can of beer and sat in his recliner across from her. “Can I get you something?” he asked. “Maybe a nice glass of wine?”
Andrea only shook her head and stared ahead with glazed eyes. Silence filled the room. John struggled to gain control of his emotions — a mixture of fear, doubt, love, and anger.
Almost an hour went by before Andrea finally stood and started out of the room. “Where are you going?” John asked, but she didn’t reply. She just kept walking toward the staircase and slowly climbed to the second floor, taking the steps in a mechanical way. He was right back to square one with her, and he knew what to expect when it came time for him to go up to the bedroom.
The kitchen needed to be cleaned up from the dinner he’d made, and he wanted to put a load of laundry into the washer. While doing these unfamiliar chores, he thought a lot about the situation and decided he would call a doctor. The only problem was, what would he tell the doctor?
Chapter Nineteen
That night, Andrea’s dream began in a different way. She stood alone near the flower garden, the bright moon lighting the yard. Out of the shadows came the figure of woman, who walked up to her. It was Anna, dressed a long black dress with a high collar and sleeves buttoned at her wrists. A thin veil covered her hair. Funeral garments, from long ago. “Don’t trust that man,” she whispered, looking around as if she searched for someone or something. “He is not what you think he is.”
“You’re wrong!” Andrea shouted. “He’s a wonderful person.”
Anna shook her head. “You don’t know him like I do. You must stay away from him. He will bring great harm to you. Please listen.”
“What do you know? You’re just a ghost trying to frighten me. Leave me alone. I can take care of myself. I know what I’m doing.”
“No, you don’t!” Anna insisted. “You must listen before it’s too late. This man is evil.” She suddenly became very quiet, turning her head to face the darkness behind her. She lowered her gaze, and the veil fell over her eyes. Holding her hands up to her face, she quickly walked away.
Andrea watched her disappear into the darkness. Out of the same shadows appeared a tall, dark figure. Andrea shouted out, “Anna, why are you leaving this way?”
The shadowy form slowly walked toward her. At first she was a little frightened, but as he came into the light, she could see him — her dream lover. She relaxed at the sight of him, her heart filling with joy.
He beamed with delight. “My dear,” he said as he took her hand and pulled her gently toward him. He wrapped his arms around her, looking deep into her eyes. “I don’t want you to listen to that woman anymore. She’s trying to keep you away from me. We won’t let her. I love you, and I want us to be together forever. You are so beautiful, my pet.”
From the shadows came the familiar whimpering. Once again, the dream ended. She woke and sat up in the bed, angry with Anna for intruding on her dream.
Moments later the alarm went off, waking John. He got up and was on his way down to the kitchen to make coffee. This had come to be a routine for him over the last several days. He could not count on Andrea for anything.
It felt a little chilly in the house that morning. John feared another strange freezing episode, so he opened the back door as soon as he came into the kitchen. The cool morning air felt refreshing, and it relaxed him to know it was just cool outside.
While he waited for the coffee to brew, he thought about what he would say to the doctor when he had to explain Andrea’s condition. He wondered how he could get one to agree to come to the house. Maybe he’d have to wait a few days and think this whole thing over again. It would be too hard to explain this to a doctor or anyone else.
After he poured himself a cup of coffee, he poured one for Andrea and took them both up to the bedroom. When he entered the room, she sat up. “I thought you might like some coffee this morning,” he said as he gave her the cup.
She took it and held it to her lips, then blew on the steaming hot liquid before taking a sip of the fresh brew. Turning slowly to her left, she set the cup on the table next to the bed, then got up and went to the bathroom. John patiently stood by the window, drinking his coffee while he waited for her return.
Suddenly, he heard a door open and close out in the hallway. He set his cup on the nightstand and ran out of the room. She was no longer in the bathroom, so he called for her. “Andrea?” No answer. Looking all around, he saw no one. Again he called out as he hurried down the hallway to the attic door. Without hesitation, he opened it. The heat from the attic engulfed him. “Are you up there?”
Everything was quiet. “Andrea!” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement in the hallway. He turned to see his lovely wife walking slowly toward the bedroom.
“Andrea, were you down here by this attic door?” he asked. There was no response. She was already in bed when he came into the room. “I heard a door out there. I think it was the attic door. Did you hear it?” Nothing. “Where did you go?” He waited for her to give him an explanation, but still she was silent.
John began to shout. “Well, are you going to tell me what you heard and what you were doing?”
Andrea laid her head down on the pillow. “I didn’t hear anything,” she said softly.
He couldn’t help thinking maybe he was losing his mind, too. “I swear I heard a door out in the hallway. I know I heard something.
” He turned and left the room.
It was Monday morning, usually a heavy workday. Keeping his mind on his clients was not going to be easy. It didn’t matter, though — he still had to get to the office. He had a lot of paperwork to catch up on for the July reports. And despite his full schedule, he still wanted to make time to see about that apartment. As far as he was concerned, there were no more options. They would move out of the house, even if he had to drag her out.
The day dragged on at what seemed like a snail’s pace. At five, Gale and Judy were ready to leave. John had a few more calls to make, so he told them to go ahead and he would lock up. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
After they’d left, he called the rental office at the apartments to see if they were still open. The woman told him she would be there until six.
He hurried through the first call and then went on to the next one, but they left him on hold so long he slammed the phone down. “I don’t have time to sit on the phone waiting for someone to come back.” He locked up, left the office, and headed for the apartments.
The rush hour traffic slowed him down. When he arrived at the rental office, he found Mrs. Mallac outside the door, getting ready to lock up and go home. “Oh, Mr. Devon,” she said as he walked up to her. “I wondered if you were going to come back. I was just about to leave, but I can take some time to talk to you. Let’s go inside.” She opened the door.
John followed her into the office. “Is that apartment I looked at last week still available?”
“Yes, it is. I did have a young couple call about it this afternoon. They looked at it the day after you did, and they want to come back tomorrow and look at it again. Are you going to take it?”
“Yes.”
She took out a packet of papers and had him sign a one-year lease. While he wrote out a check for the deposit, she said, “I thought you were going to bring your wife to see it. What happened?”
What Happened to Anna? Page 20
