by Terri Reid
“Thank you, Dr. Abid,” Bradley replied. “Ian had a run in with a door when we were breaking into the house. I was wondering if you could just look at him.”
Ian shook his head. “Really, it’s nothing,” he said. “A few splinters…”
“Can you pull your shirt over your head?” Dr. Abid asked.
Ian reached up, then stopped, his face contorted in pain. “No, I don’t suppose I can,” he said.
“Sit down,” she ordered with a tone that brooked no argument. Ian immediately obeyed.
She went to the door and spoke to a nurse for a moment. Almost immediately a stainless steel cart with medical supplied was wheeled into the room. Dr. Abid picked up the scissors and carefully cut through the arm of Ian’s shirt. When she pulled the cloth away, Bradley gasped.
“Dammit Ian,” he said.
Ian’s arm was covered in an oozing coating of blood, the splinters acting as tiny stoppers so more blood hadn’t escaped. Ian looked down and then turned to Bradley. “It wasn’t a high priority,” he said, and Bradley knew exactly what he meant.
“Well, it is now,” Bradley replied. “What do you think, doctor?”
She shook her head slowly as she examined his arms. “First, I need to get permission from the patient to share this information with you,” she said. She glanced up at Ian. “May I continue?”
He smiled and nodded. “Aye, go ahead.”
She nodded at him, and then her gaze returned back to his arm. “The small ones can be removed with tweezers,” she said. “But there are also larger ones that might have caused muscle or tendon damage. We’ll have to do a CT scan to be sure.”
“I really don’t think this is that big of a deal,” Ian said.
“Perhaps not to you,” she said. “But the splinters are not the only problem. The possibility of infection is also a concern. I would like to start you on an IV of antibiotics immediately.”
“Wait. I have things to do…” Ian began.
Ignoring his protests, the doctor picked up the scissors and cut the rest of his shirt off his body. His torso was riddled with painful looking bruises. “Did this happen today?” she asked.
Ian shook his head. “No, it’s several weeks old,” he answered. “I had a run in with someone who wasn’t happy to see me.”
“Did you see a medical professional about this?” she asked.
Ian smiled and nodded. “Aye, I did,” he said.
The doctor straightened up. “There does not appear to be any new damage to your torso, but we need to extract the splinters as soon as possible.” She studied him for a long moment. “I assume that you would prefer a topical anesthetic than an injection.”
Ian nodded. “I think I’ve had far enough things poking through my skin today,” he agreed. “Topical would be a lovely choice. Thank you.”
The doctor left the room to order the scan and the medications.
Bradley shook his head. “You’re a mess,” he said with a gentle grin.
“Aye, I know,” Ian replied. “And really, we don’t have time for this.”
“We’ll make time,” Bradley insisted. “I’ll call Mary and let her know what’s up. Then, while you have your scan, I’ll check in with Rosie.”
Ian sighed. “You won’t be helping me break out of the hospital like Mary helped you?” he asked.
“No way, man,” Bradley said. “You look like a backwards porcupine. Besides, all I had was a bullet wound.”
Chapter Fifty-eight
The phone rang, and Mary reached for it immediately. “Bradley!” she cried. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he immediately said, chiding himself for making her wait so long. “But I’m stuck here at the hospital for a while.”
“That’s fine. You do whatever you need to do,” she said, leaning back on the couch. “How’s Stanley?”
Bradley leaned back against the tiled wall of the hospital and ran his hand through his hair, surprised to find a few chunks of wood. “He went through surgery just fine,” he said.
“Surgery?” Mary exclaimed.
“He had third-degree burns on his arms and his torso,” Bradley replied. “They had to clean them in order to prepare them for skin grafts.”
“And?” she asked.
“And his heart rate was solid throughout the operation, but he hasn’t regained consciousness yet,” Bradley said.
“What’s the prognosis?” she asked.
“I’m heading down to see Rosie after our call, and I’ll find out,” he said. “I promised Ian I’d report back to her.”
Mary sat up. “What’s wrong with Ian?”
“He had a run in with a door,” Bradley said. “His arm is riddled with splinters, some a pretty good sized, so they are going to run a scan to make sure there’s no muscle or tendon damage and then remove them.”
“Ouch,” Mary said. “But other than that?”
“He’s good,” he said. “He’s fine.”
Mary sniffed back the tears, but her voice was filled emotion. “I really wish I could be there with you,” she said, her voice shaking.
“Yeah, I wish you could be too,” he replied. “But, we both know…”
She nodded. “Yes, I know,” she said. “It’s just what Tony wanted.”
“And we are not going to give Tony what he wanted,” Bradley said, his voice determined.
“No. No we’re not,” Mary agreed.
She was quiet for a long moment, and finally she said. “Bradley, I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetheart,” he replied. “I’m not sure when I’ll be home, but if you need me, call.”
She nodded, a lone tear trickling down her cheek. “I will,” she said, “I promise.”
Chapter Fifty-nine
Mary hung up the phone and placed it on the coffee table in front of her. Then she put her hands on her belly and looked down as her unborn child moved beneath her hands. She took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, Mikey,” she said with determination. “You and I are going to war.”
“Mike,” she called out. “Mike.”
Immediately, Mike appeared in front of her. He studied her closely and noticed the fire in her eyes that had recently replaced the sorrow.
“No. Whatever it is you are thinking about, the answer is no,” he said.
“I want you to stay at the Brennan’s and watch over Clarissa,” she said, ignoring his words.
“Mary, you can’t take this thing on by yourself,” he said.
Eyes blazing, she turned on him. “Do you know that?” she asked. “Do you one hundred percent know that I can’t beat him? Or are you just saying that because you’re worried about me?”
Mike shook his head. “Well, no, I don’t know one hundred percent—”
“Did God tell you that I couldn’t defeat Tony?” she interrupted. “Did He?”
“No,” Mike said. “But remember, that first night…”
“I was afraid that first night,” she admitted. “But I’m not afraid anymore. I’m mad. I’m really mad. Tony is not going to come floating into my life and mess with my friends and my family. He is going down.”
“Mary, please…”
“Mike, do you trust me?” she asked, and then she shook her head. “No, even better, do you trust God? Because He obviously handed this one off to me.”
Mike opened his mouth and then closed it, shaking his head. “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said softly.
She sighed and nodded. “Me neither,” she said. “I have way too much to live for. But I won’t let this spirit bully and hurt my family anymore. My choice, Mike. My freewill choice.”
He nodded, knowing he was obligated to respect her decision. “I love you, kid,” he said as he faded away.
“I love you too, Mike,” she replied.
Once she knew he was gone, she walked across the room to the hall closet. She pulled out the Louisville Slugger baseball bat her brothers had given her for home protection. She hefted
it up, took a couple of practice swings and smiled. Yeah, she could still knock it out of the ball park.
She walked back to the couch with the bat in her arms and bent to unstrap the mirror. Then she stopped, put the bat down and folded her arms to pray. “Dear God. First let me apologize for being angry with you this evening. I know that you gave us all freewill and choice, and sometimes people choose to harm others. I know it’s not your fault. I was just sad and frightened and angry. I’m grateful for my friends and my family, and I pray that you will watch over them and bless them. Bless Stanley. Help him to heal.” She paused and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Please help me this night, Father. Help me to defeat Tony. Help me to be guided and know what to do. And mostly Father, help me to be brave. Amen.”
Mary bent down, pulled the duct tape away from Ian’s coat and unwrapped the mirror. It seemed to glow dully as it reflected the light in the room. She picked up the bat and swung. The area was too tight. She pushed the mirror out to the middle of the room and tried another practice swing.
Perfect.
She took a deep breath, positioned herself into a batter’s stance and yelled, “Tony. I’ve got something you’ll want to see.”
Chapter Sixty
“Mary. Mary,” Tony’s voice echoed eerily around the living room.
Mary listened, but the fear didn’t come. Confidence and raging fury were her main emotions now.
“Cut the crap, Tony,” she said. “It’s not working anymore.”
He appeared across the room from her. “You should have seen Stanley,” he said. “Burnt to a crisp and lying on the floor.” He laughed, an evil, menacing sound. “I don’t think he’ll live for much longer. You’ll probably want to go see him at the hospital.”
“That’s it,” Mary said, and she swung the bat into the mirror.
CRACK.
The mirrored surface cracked in half.
“What are you doing?” Tony screamed.
Mary shrugged calmly. “Just warming up,” she replied and swung again.
CRACK.
One half of the mirror broke into smaller pieces.
“You can’t do that!” he screamed, coming closer. “I can kill you. I can kill you and your baby.”
Mary turned to him. “No, you can’t,” she said. “You can’t hurt me. You can’t hurt my child. And you will no longer hurt my family and friends.”
A small fire burst in the corner of the room. “Wanna bet?” he screamed.
“Yes,” Mary said, whipping the bat against the surface of the mirror. “I do.”
“Stop it!” he screamed, as the mirror scattered further.
“You can’t hide anymore,” Mary said. “You are going to face judgement for what you’ve done.”
“No,” he exclaimed. “I’m not.”
Another small fire started next to the Christmas tree. “And you are going to burn,” he threatened.
The fires licked at the carpet and the base of the tree. Mary could smell the acrid scent of smoke. She took a deep breath and held firm. “No, I’m not going to burn,” she said, and she struck the mirror again. “You are.”
“Who do you think you are?” he screamed.
She brought the bat up over her shoulder and then whipped it down with all of her might, sending pieces of glass up in the air. “I am Mary O’Reilly Alden, and I am done with you.”
He stopped and looked down at the shattered mirror. Then he looked at Mary and started to laugh, the sound echoing throughout the house. “Oh, you think so?” he asked mildly.
He glanced over his shoulder and smiled. Another fire started in the kitchen. He glanced the other way, and another fire started near the front door. Mary looked around. Every way out of the room was now blocked by fire.
“You’re not done with me,” he said. “You’re stuck with me. I will be with you forever, destroying everything and everyone you love.”
“Like you destroyed your own family?” Mary asked.
He scoffed at her. “Oh, don’t try the guilt thing Mary,” he said. “They displeased me. They were annoying, and they had to die.”
“And Jody? What about Jody?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I was bored,” he said, shaking his head. “And really, she was not much entertainment.”
He glanced at the couch, and a fire started in one of the cushions, the smell of burning cloth stinging Mary’s eyes.
“You have been much more entertaining, Mary,” he said. “It’s too bad, actually, that you’re going to have to die. But I’m sure your power is going to be delectable.”
Mary shivered but didn’t let herself waiver.
The smoke was making it hard for Mary to breathe. “If I die, you won’t get what you wanted,” she managed to say.
He shrugged. “That friend of yours, Ian,” he said. “He will give me what I need.” Then his smile widened. “Actually, he can give me more than I ever imagined.”
“You are not going to win,” she said, praying silently that a solution would present itself.
“Oh, Mary,” he laughed. “I already have.”
Chapter Sixty-one
Mary’s eyes were burning and her lungs felt like they were going to explode as she gasped for air. The heat in the room was increasing and the thick smoke made it impossible to see anything, she had no way to escape.
Dear God, she prayed, I really don’t want to die like this.
Suddenly, the smell of the smoke started to dissipate and a cold breeze whipped through the room. Suddenly she could breathe again. Like a lid over a pot, the smoke was tamped down and she could see around the room. The blazing fires slowed and died. Then, the damage started to reverse itself, as if there had never been a fire.
Tony glanced around the room. “What happened?” he asked. “What did you do?”
Mary hungrily took a deep breath of the fresh air. The scent of pine and vanilla filled the room, covering over any remaining smell of smoke. An instant image of her grandmother standing in the kitchen, letting Mary lick the beaters came to her mind. The vision was so clear, it was if she’d been transported back to one of her favorite Christmas memories. Suddenly, she realized who the second shadow was.
“I didn’t do anything, Tony,” she said, finally understanding. “But there entities far more powerful than you.”
A shadowed figure stepped out from the kitchen, and finally, Mary’s guess was confirmed.
“Hello Mary,” the kindly spirit said, his voice low and deep. “I’ve been asked to help you with this matter.” He turned to Tony. “Do you know who I am?”
Tony’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “I don’t believe in you,” he exclaimed, although Mary could now hear the fear in Tony’s voice. “You’re nothing but a fairy tale.”
The ancient spirit shook his head, his white beard brushing against the fur on his collar. “I’m afraid you are sadly mistaken,” he said. “And I’m afraid that you have a lot to answer for.”
“I’m stronger than you,” Tony screamed as the spirit approached him. “I can control you.”
The spirit laughed softly at the absurdity of Tony’s words. “There is nothing stronger than the Spirit of Christmas,” he said. “Especially during this time of year.”
Laying a red gloved hand on Tony’s shoulder, he sought Tony’s eyes. “You will accompany me now,” he said. “And you will not return to earth again.”
Tony struggled against the hold, but could not move.
“Mary,” the kindly spirit said. “You were very brave.”
Then he and Tony disappeared.
Chapter Sixty-two
Mary made her way carefully through the broken shards of mirror, pulled on her coat and grabbed her purse and keys. She opened the door and was greeted by the first snowflakes of a new snow. She stopped on the porch and lifted her head, letting the delicate flakes land on her face. They were like tiny, celestial kisses, soothing her fire-warmed skin and melding with her hot tears to offer cooling relief.
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br /> She took a deep breath of the cold night air, let it fill her lungs and cleanse the last vestiges of Tony’s smoke from her body. She looked out from her porch. Christmas lights from all of the homes around her twinkled in the night. The snow swirled around the light posts and the bare tree branches, dusting everything with a blanket of white. She felt an overwhelming sense of peace in her heart. She stayed for a moment longer, relishing the tranquility of the moment, then carefully climbed down the stairs and headed to her car.
The emergency room was empty when Mary approached the receptionist’s desk. The orderly looked up from the computer and looked at Mary.
“Stay right there,” he said. “I’ll be right around with a wheelchair.”
“But—” Mary began.
“No buts,” the orderly said, hurrying from behind the plexiglass enclosure and wheeling a chair towards Mary. “Those are hospital rules. Now, is your husband coming?”
“He’s already here,” Mary said.
The orderly was taken aback. “He’s already here?” he asked.
Mary nodded. “He’s been here for hours,” she tried to explain, sitting in the chair.
“Well, he should have brought you with him,” he said. “What was he thinking?”
Suddenly, Mary realized what the confusion was all about. “Oh, wait, I’m not having a baby,” she said.
The orderly backed up a step and looked at her in disbelief.
She shook her head. “No, I mean I’m not having a baby tonight,” she corrected. “My husband, Chief Alden, is here with several of our friends. They were involved in a house fire tonight. I need to see how they’re doing.”
“Oh,” he said with a smile. “Well, that makes sense. Sure, I’ll let you in.” He helped her out of the chair. “The one with the splinters is in room six. The other two have been taken upstairs. I believe Chief Alden is with the woman, up in room three. The other one, the old man, he’s up in isolation.”
He pressed a button, and the doors to the emergency room area opened.
