He must not have realized she could still see, still comprehend when her best friend Lucia had come and sat with him all those months ago, at first crying and shaking her head at the injustice of it all, looking at Michael through her tears while he had sobbed and told her how guilty he felt that he was still here and she was laying in the bed, barely holding on. Neither of them must have realized the agony she had felt the first time the tears and guilt and sadness turned into a kiss, an embrace, a heated moment, with Michael grabbing Lucia right up out of the chair and lifting her against the wall as they kissed and moaned and fondled each other right there in front of her. Right there where that dent in the wall was, the dent that had come from Lucia’s high heel as he had banged her against it while she was reaching down and grabbing him through his jeans. Neither of them cared enough to see the tear that had leaked out of her eye as they’d hurriedly grabbed their things and left together that night.
Michael now came infrequently and Lucia not at all, and when he came, he stayed a few minutes, said what he imagined he was his duty in a situation like this, and then bent over and brushed her forehead with the barest whisper of a kiss, and left again. Left again leaving her to stare at that spot and remember. Remember what they had done to her imprisoned mind. Maybe if she could, she would thank them. In the beginning all she could remember and think about was the accident, the two of them zooming down the highway, taking the exit that would get them home. Her clutching on to Michael as they flew like two birds in the wind on his new motorcycle. She had never felt so free! The air surrounding them like they were in the middle of a storm, ravaging the hair that hung out the back and sides of her helmet and whipping it back into her face. She kept letting go of Michael to brush it back and to try to tuck it in under the helmet.
Three blocks from home, she’d caught the movement to the right, out of the corner of her eye, a black SUV coming straight for them, the driver singing and fiddling with the radio, not even pausing for the stop sign she’d just run right through. She’d forgotten about the hair in her face then and she’d had just enough time to grab back onto Michaels black leather jacket and scream. The next thing she knew she was slammed against the SUV, glass was smashing and flying everywhere, tires screeching as brakes were practically thrust through the floorboards in a last ditch effort to avoid the calamity. She felt her grip being ripped away from Michael, taking a small piece of his jacket with her, clutched in her hand so tightly she had heard the doctor say her fingernails had embedded themselves in her palm, as she flew through the air. She didn’t remember the moment of impact, when her body slammed against the windshield of the SUV, nor did she remember rolling down and off of the hood on to the pavement that was hot enough to cook on, but she did remember laying there, in shock, looking into the eyes of the driver who lay practically beside her after being thrown from the vehicle she hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt in, watching her pupils get as big as the eraser of a pencil and the feeling of utter horror she had felt as she’d seen the shadow come for her. It was a black, ugly shadow that had smelled terrible, like three day old meat left in the sun. She’d watched as it became airborne and flattened itself out and hovered over the driver, watched as it made eye contact with the woman and watched as it turned her head with its long black finger and seemed to inhale the essence of the driver right out of her body. She watched as the peaceful face took the place of the agonized one and watched as the woman’s body relaxed in death and was done. It had turned then, death had, and looked straight at her. And it had smiled. Smiled dammit! There had been many, many nights she had gone over it time and time again, detail by detail, wondering why death had taken the driver and had left her alone, her skin already blistering and peeling off in layers from the heat of the road. Wondering what kind of deal that driver had made with death to be released from the agony, what kind of deal that Pietra had not thought of that had released her into the forever after.
Tonight was yet another of those nights. A night she couldn’t let go of the jealousy; couldn’t stop thinking of how to call death to her bedside and ask, no… BEG it to take her. She was not afraid of what would happen after she died. It couldn’t be as bad as what she was suffering through now. Suffering from a broken neck and back and living a nightmare in her mind. Crying in torment, pain no one else could hear or see or even care about. Self-pity had become her only friend and she longed to be free from it all. She had never wanted anything so damn bad in her life. She tried to move her eyes to the doorway, sensing movement and hoping it wasn’t her husband or her best friend coming to fulfill their self-imposed duty. It was such a relief to see it was the nurse, coming in before her shift ended and hopefully going to turn her on her side so she could at least have relief from seeing that dent in the wall. She didn’t get pain medication because she was paralyzed and felt nothing anyways. Hmph! What did they know about pain? All of the pain she felt was called “phantom pain”, pain of the imaginary kind. Well nothing physical at least, so Pietra was surprised when the nurse pulled a syringe out of one pocket and a vial out of the other. She watched as the nurse shook the vial and inserted the tip of the needle into it and pulled back on the plunger watching the clear liquid completely fill it. She didn’t bother to flick it with her finger the way Pietra had seen other nurses do, only turned and silently slipped the needle into the IV tube. Pietra’s eyes grew wide as she recognized the face of the nurse and in the seconds it took her to die, hoped that her husband enjoyed living the rest of his life living with a murderess. As she slipped away and took the hand of the black entity that had stepped around her best friends side as she’d slipped the needle into the IV, she wished she could have just said two more words. She would have looked at her best friend, this woman she had known since they were both little girls, and said … thank you.
Instead she turned her head, which she could now move freely, and smiled at Death as it caressed her cheek and lovingly bent to kiss her. She let go of it all as it inhaled and drew in whatever warmth remained in her body, and finally she was free.
***
DEATH FINALLY REALIZED that he must help Marissa. If he ever wanted to find her mate, and find the secret to why he and all of the others throughout time had disappeared, he would have to help her get out of this place and follow her when she went looking for him. If it weren’t for that one doctor who was holding out on the others that agreed she was ready to be discharged, he wouldn’t be in this predicament. She would be out of here and probably already at the place she had seen him last. She would never just lie down and accept that he was gone. He could sense it. She would have to be sure he was dead and not just missing, living in the cavern this whole past year, surviving on plankton and the moss that must surely grow on the outcropping of rocks down there. As he realized what he needed to do, he gave her one last look. She lay facing the window, clutching her pillow like a small child would clutch a teddy bear, her face tear streaked and melancholy. Her eyes drifted closed now and for a moment, she almost seemed at peace. He would not torture her with the dreams this time. It was doing no good at all. Instead he would let her find the peace she so desperately needed to begin to heal and get herself out of here.
Floating through the wall like the proverbial ghost, he made his way to Dr. Lamen’s office. He watched in silence as the doctor finished the dictation to his secretary and huddled in the shadows waiting for her to leave. Once the door closed, he made his way to the desk and watched as the doctor closed the book he had been consulting and stood to look out the window of his office. He had been watching this patient closely, convinced now that she needed shock treatment to help her forget the picture of her lover going over the falls. If she didn’t receive it, he was convinced she might go mad. The other doctors, however, disagreed and weren’t convinced that that was the answer. They thought with time and medication she would be fine. Fools! He had been a doctor for thirty five years and he knew the signs. Damn all of these new age doctors who thought valium was the answ
er to everything! He reached up and ran a hand over the five o’clock shadow that inevitably made its way onto his face every day by this time. He turned to grab his electric shaver from the top drawer and plug it in and use it. No sense going home and having to do it before the engagement with his wife at the opera house. Time was something he didn’t like to waste. Who knew how much a person had?
Reading his thoughts, Death smiled. Who knew indeed? Unfortunately for the good doctor, time had run out. As he watched him move closer to the outlet he let his mind twist the wires in the receptacle and when the metal of the plug made contact, the current ran through the cord right up into his body. Death tsk-tsked as the doctors face turned to look and finally see him, realizing who he was and what he was doing there. When their time came to be confronted by him, everyone knew who he was. Some were happy to see him, others were afraid but all were somehow familiar with his face. Death tried to be accommodating with most of the people he visited, tried to appear as a loved one who had gone on before them so the trauma of parting from this world wasn’t as alarming as it could be. Of course there were plenty he assisted that he made it his top priority to make the experience as horrible as he could. The ones who had spent their lives traumatizing others were the ones he liked best. He saved all of his good stuff for them…
As he stared at the doctor until the man realized there was nothing he could do to break the contact with the current now and as smoke began billowing from his clothing, the doctor dropped to the floor, mouth gapping open and his eyes locked in horror with Deaths. As his heartbeat began to flutter and finally to beat its last, Death reached across and took his hand in his and simply led him away.
***
MARISSA INHALED THE fresh air as she stood on the steps of the hospital waiting for her ride to take her to her car. The officer who had found her that day in the park had visited her often, probably out of some sense of obligation that didn’t exist, and had told her that when she was ready, he would come and drive her back to where they had impounded their car. The first frost had visited that night and she could see the icy tendrils of grass everywhere she looked. Winter was going to be long and hard this year. Maybe she would go to Ocean City and just get away from everything. Her best friend had agreed to pack up her belongings, and Daltons, and put it all in storage for her and had told the landlord to go ahead and rent the apartment. That had been a year ago today. It was so hard to believe that Dalton had been gone that long. His body had never been found, not to anyone’s surprise. They had told her then that nothing ever came out of Devils Kettle, nothing. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how devastated Dalton’s sister had been when there had been nothing to bury. Thank God his parents had been gone for years and had been saved from having to go through that tragedy. She pulled the coat she had been given tighter around her neck as the cold wind tried to find passage there. It whipped her hair around her face, stinging as it made contact. She had wanted to pull her hair back but instead sought out the added warmth it would give her by leaving it down. The nurse who worked the midnight shift had been kind enough to bring her the coat, saying it had belonged to her niece who had left it there when she’d moved back to the Bahamas.
“She won’t be needing it down there now will she?” the nurse had said in her singsong voice, “and if she ever comes back, I will take her out and buy her a new one.”
She had been sorry there were no gloves or a scarf to go with it but Marissa was grateful for just the coat. No one knew what had happened to all of their things. None of that had ever been found either. The only thing she had been left with was her small overnight bag that held the lingerie she had never had another chance to wear for Dalton. She had taken the ring out and had draped it around her neck, ready to give it to Dalton as soon as they had set up camp and got settled in. She’d had it all planned. As soon as it was dark and they were sitting under the stars by the fire, she was going to confess her love for him and give him the ring. It had never come to pass. She still had the ring, now tucked away deep in her front pocket until she could put it away somewhere safe. She had worn it on the chain ever since that fateful day and refused to let anyone remove it. When the orderly at the hospital had tried, she had screamed bloody murder and kicked up such a fuss they’d agreed to let her keep it. All the while, the gypsy woman’s words echoed in her ears saying how she was to show it to no one. Well it didn’t matter much now. Dalton was gone and she was left to pick up the pieces and carry on. Still, feeling nostalgic, she removed the chain that still held the ring from her pocket, and once again fastened it around her neck so it hung closer to her heart. Part of a final tribute to the man she would always love.
Yes, she thought to herself as she caught a glimpse of Officer Cross’s car coming up the long driveway, Ocean City sounded like the perfect escape. She would make plans as soon as she got to Valerie’s place. The last thing she wanted was to be a burden on her friend.
As Officer Cross drew nearer, Marissa waved at him and smiled and at long last, left the hospital grounds vowing to never ever go back again. She opened the door before Cross could get out and open it for her, and smiled as she thanked him yet again for helping her get back to their car. They made small talk as he drove and stopped for coffee after they had passed the halfway point. She told him of her plans to go to the ocean and he agreed it would do her good to get away. Before she left though, she planned to go to the hotel she and Dalton had stayed at before going to the park, and while she was there she would make her peace with the biggest mistake she had made in her life.
She inquired once again about hiring a rescue squad this long after Dalton was gone and wondered aloud to Cross if he thought they would find anything. He was honest with her and told her nothing had changed. No one would be willing to be that irresponsible and reckless and venture down into that cavern. It was just too dangerous. He was shocked she would even still entertain the idea. They drove to the impound and finally Marissa could get the Jeep. As she opened the door, she inhaled deeply and she would have sworn she could still smell the familiar scent of Polo, the cologne she had always bought for him, lingering in the air. Surely she was wrong, after a year it would be impossible to still smell him… wouldn’t it? Rather than let sadness overwhelm her, she felt comforted by it and as she climbed behind the wheel, she noticed the camera still wedged between the seats where she had left it all that time ago. She picked it up and hit review to be met by the picture of the mother deer standing protectively beside her fawn, the picture she had wanted so badly to share with him and now, never would. She set the camera back down and stuck the key in the ignition and was surprised at how easily the engine turned over. It felt strange sitting in the driver seat. This had always been Daltons chair and she had always rode shotgun. She caressed the wheel with her fingers, tracing the route she knew his strong hands had taken the last time he’d been in there and tried to feel any kind of connection with him. There was nothing. How could something that had been everything, suddenly be nothing? She shook her head and out of the corner of her eye, seen Officer Cross watching her with concern from the booth across the garage. Slipping on the seatbelt and easing the gearshift into reverse, she backed out of the spot and with a wave to Cross, she was off.
The hotel would look so different now, the leaves had all fallen off of the trees and there would be no fall splendor to meet her this time. Perhaps it was for the best. She didn’t know if she could handle that right now. She knew she was still fragile emotionally and she knew this was probably not the best thing for her to do, but the guilt she felt had to be dealt with. It would be about an hour and a half before she got there so she turned on the radio and was met with Steven Tyler singing about sweet emotion. How appropriate. This was probably the song Dalton had been listening to before they had stopped at IHOP that day. She remembered him saying he’d had Aerosmith keeping him company so surely this was what he had been listening to. She had no more tears left to cry, just a sad ache that seemed to b
e a permanent part of her psyche these days. Smiling, she sang along, thinking of Dalton and mentally dedicating the song to him. At long last, as she pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, she noticed that the trailer where she had bought the amazing breakfast sandwiches for them still inhabited the corner of the lot. As her stomach growled, she realized she was falling back into her old habit of not feeding herself. After a year of three squares a day, you would think eating would have become a habit but apparently she was not a creature of habit. She threw the Jeep into park, climbed out and made her way over to inquire about getting another one of those awesome sandwiches and a coffee. Taking her goods to the office, she asked if she could have the same room they’d shared before and was happy to hear it wouldn’t be a problem. It wasn’t like they were busting at the seams with people or anything and she pretty much had her choice of rooms this time of year. She accepted the key and trudged up the stairs eager to get a sip of the coffee and a bite of the sandwich into her mouth. As she unlocked the door and pushed it open, she let out a small cry of surprise and almost passed out when she seen the gypsy woman and her brother sitting at the table beside the window. Sitting there as if they had known she would come, both of them looking solemn and anxious and waving at her to close the door.
Lost Souls Page 9
