“Not really.”
“That’s alright, I’m sure they‘ll understand,” with a sigh, Frank sat down next to Benny, “Son, I want you to know if you need to talk about this, I’m here for you. I know exactly what you’re going trough and I-”
“How the fuck could you know what I’m going through,” Benny shouted angrily, “Mom wasn’t murdered.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Frank yelled, matching Benny’s anger. He took a deep breath to calm himself, “I’m just saying I lost the woman I loved the same as you. Whether by cancer or a killer’s hand, they’re both gone, so if you need any help with this, you just let me know.”
Benny returned his gaze to the window without a word. Frank stood up and walked toward the door.
“Dad,” Benny said suddenly, Frank turned back to his son from the doorway and could see he was crying now, “It hurts so bad, will it ever stop.”
Frank looked down at the floor, as if searching for the right answer, then looked up and said grimly; “No, it won’t. It will always hurt, right up to the very moment you take your last breath. Hell, Benny, I‘ve even heard of people dying from the loss of the person they love. The stress is so great it actually weakens the heart. Do you think that‘s going to happen to you?”
Turning back to the window, Benny sighed and said; “I hope so.”
Frank found his comment a little disturbing, but felt anything else he could say would only make Benny feel worse. Instead, he turned and walked out of the study without another word.
Thirty minutes later, most of the guest had left and Benny walked out to the back porch to find Jack sitting in a rocking chair.
“Hey,” Jack said when the door opened, “Dad was looking for you.”
“Yeah, he found me,” Benny returned, “and we had a little talk.”
“Oh yeah, how did that go?”
“Well, you know the Old Man, always painfully hon-est.”
Jack only nodded in response to this, he knew that their father was about as blunt as a lead pipe. Frank wasn’t just his name it was his way of life.
Benny took a seat on the chair beside Jack’s, and Jack produced a large joint from the breast pocket of his jack-et.
“Jesus, that is a fatty,” Benny stated.
“Yeah,” Jack said with a proud smile, “Northern Lights with a little skunk thrown in for good measure.”
“Wow! The good shit, huh?”
“Only the best for my baby brother,” Jack brought out a lighter and lit the end of the joint, inhaled, then passed it to Benny.
“I know it’s kind of soon to bring this up,” Jack said through smoke filled lungs, “but, have you considered what you’re going to do now? I mean whenever you’re ready to start dating again, I know a lot of girls.”
“I don’t know, Jack, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.”
“Well, I know you feel that way now, but eventually you’re going to want some companionship. There are a lot of girls out there, Benny, a lot of other chances for you to find love.”
“That will never happen again,” Benny said with certainty.
“What, love?” Jack asked. Benny nodded his head, “Man, I can’t even remember how many women I’ve loved, or at least told I loved so I could get in their panties.”
“I remember exactly how many it’s been for me.”
“Okay, how many?”
Benny took another drag off the joint, “Just one.”
“Seriously?”
“Those three words are words I take very seriously, you know. I’ve had a lot of girlfriends and I’ve had sex with a few others as well, but I never felt love for any of them, so I never told any of them I loved them. Not until Autumn. With her it was easy to say because I meant it, I could really feel it. We had so much in common and I felt so lonely until she came along. Even when I was in other relationships, I always had this sense of crushing loneliness. I’m sure that sounds a little dramatic to you, but I don’t know how else to describe it. No, I know for a fact I will never love another woman.”
Jack looked sternly back at Benny and said, “So, does that mean you like guys now?”
“No, you fucking idiot,” Benny answered, giggling through his marijuana induced buzz.
“I’m sorry, man,” Jack returned, “That’s cool. I envy you really, I sure as hell never felt that way about a woman. I guess that’s true love.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
Benny and Jack finished smoking the joint in silence as they watched the sky turn purple from the sunset, until Benny finally stood up and spoke, “I got to go, Jack.”
“Where you going?”
“I’m going to go back to the house and get some clothes and stuff.”
“Alright, are you going to stay with me again to-night?”
“Of course.”
“Cool, you want me to go with you?”
“No, I’ll be okay. Meet you back at your place later, okay?”
“That’s cool. Hurry back, we‘ll watch Empire or Jedi before we go to bed.”
“Count me in.”
Benny walked into the house and found his father sitting by the fireplace.
“Hey, Dad, I’m going. I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry for yelling earlier.”
“That’s okay, son,” Frank’s gruff voice answered. “I’ll be at the office later, if you need anything don’t hesitate to give me a call.”
Frank stood and walked Benny to the door.
“Thanks for everything, Dad.”
“Don’t mention it,” The Old Man hugged his son and Benny thought it must have been years since he’d felt those large arms around him. “You know, Benny, sometimes part of being in love is watching someone die, but, hopefully we’ll see them again in whatever lies beyond this life.”
“And who will watch me die?” Benny said seriously, “For that matter, who’s going to watch you die?”
Frank shrugged, “Well, we still got each other.”
A sharp laugh escaped Benny’s mouth, the effects of the weed still lingering. “Yeah, I suppose we do.”
“Drive carefully, son.”
Benny walked out into the cool night air and climbed behind the wheel of his little black truck. He turned the key and waited for the CD in the stereo to start. The band was Bright Eyes. They were much mellower than he was used to, but he liked them all the same.
“Man, I’m getting old,” he said to himself. He shifted the gear stick into drive and went home for the last time.
He pulled into the driveway of his house and saw the Halloween decorations on the lawn; the things that once brought him so much joy now only caused a sting of sorrow in his chest. Stepping out of the truck, he scanned the area fear-ing that he would find Autumn’s killer had returned to the scene and at the same time hoping he would find the fiend and catch him off guard.
Walking up to the front door, the gruesome memories of that night flashed into his mind with every step he took. Her limp body on the floor. The large pool of blood that sur-rounded her. Pausing at the door to gather one last bit of cou-rage, he tore the crime scene tape away, and walked inside.
A hard breeze blew the leaves around the yard and Benny heard the old familiar creaks and moans the house always made, like the long dead branches on an ancient oak tree. He remembered how those creaks and moans had often made Autumn feel uneasy in the middle of the night, causing her to move up against him while they were lying in bed. He remembered the warmth of her body, and how good it felt to wrap his arms around her, giving her every assurance that she was safe with him. He knew at that moment, if he closed his eyes and concentrated hard enough he would be able to feel the rise and fall of her stomach as she breathed.
He missed her so much.
He walked upstairs and into their bedroom, where they had made love on countless occasions. The room where she was killed. The blood stain on the floor had faded slightly, the chalk outline, however, had not.
Looking away quickly, he
walked toward the closet. The door was already opened, and the chain to the attic dan-gled in front of him. He pulled the chain, reached up to catch the ladder as it slid down, and climbed up to find the beat up old shoe box that had sat there; untouched for the entire five years they had lived in the house.
If Autumn would have known about the shoe box and its contents she would have never approved, though it may have saved her life that night.
A few minutes later, he was back downstairs sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the box. Slowly, he pulled the lid off and set it aside. Pulling some tissue paper aside with his left hand, he stuck his right hand inside and lifted the revolver out of its hiding place. The gun felt heavy in his hand, but it calmed him. This was the remedy for all his pain. He picked up one bullet and loaded it into the chamber, then put the barrel to his temple and closed his eyes.
At that moment he heard a sound come from the front door.
“Hello?” he said standing up. He looked down the hallway and saw a shadowy figure silhouetted against the open front doorway. Suddenly, he felt his stomach turn and his heart rate increased dramatically.
Thumbing back the hammer on the gun, he asked with a shaky voice; “Who are you?”
The figure started to walk down the hall. Benny be-gan to back up.
When the dark figure emerged from the shadows into the light of the kitchen, the revolver fell from Benny’s hand and he gaped at her in stunned silence.
Though it was hard to do, he swallowed, and found the voice to utter one word.
“Autumn?”
3. Benny’s Quest
It was 1996. Benny was home from school for Spring break and he and Jack had been dragged to a play at the Triloville High School. Debbie Hendershot was a girl Jack had had an on again off again relationship with for the last two years and it just so happened that her younger sister was in drama class and had won one of the lead parts in the play. Although the play had been highly regarded by critics, (at least that was what the billboard in front of the auditorium said) Benny and Jack still found it to be painfully boring.
Intermission finally came, much to the relief of the Writeman brothers, and the two of them went outside with Debbie so she could smoke.
“Isn’t it a great play,” Debbie squealed, “Jenny is doing so well. We’re going to stay for the second act right?”
“Gee, I’d really like to,” Jack answered with fake regret, “but, I have got to get home so Benny can stick hot safety pins in my pupils in the hopes that the pain will erase the memory of the last hour and a half of my life.”
Benny burst out laughing at this, which caused Deb-bie to give both of them the evil eye. She threw her cigarette down and stormed back into the auditorium.
“Man, I have had it with that bitch,” Jack said.
“Hey, there is some suspicious activity going on in the parking lot,” Benny stated, pointing to a group of teenag-ers who were huddled between two cars. “You want to go check it out?”
“Sure!”
The brothers walked across the lot and found exactly what they had suspected; a circle with two joints being passed in opposite directions.
“Mind if we join?” Benny asked. Every one’s eyes turned to Jack with his neat hair and clean appearance.
“Are you a narc?” One of the guys asked.
“A narc?” Jack said, clearly offended at the notion. “I am a weed aficionado my friend.”
“I know you,” a girl’s voice spoke up.
Benny turned and found the lovely face of Autumn Sanders staring up at him. He couldn’t help the smile that spread over his lips.
“Autumn!” he blurted out.
“You remembered.”
“How could I forget? It’s my favorite time of year.”
“Who’s the narc?”
“This is my brother Jack. Despite his outward ap-pearance I can assure you; he is no narc. As a matter of fact, he’s probably the biggest pothead I know.”
“Please, Benny, your making me blush,” Jack inter-jected with a sheepish grin. He shook Autumn’s hand and after introductions were made all around, jack produced a bag of joints of his own. “Two joints is an appetizer for this seasoned veteran.”
Soon the two brothers had made fast friends with everyone in the group, and by the end of the night, with Deb-bie Hendershot and her little sister’s meandering play com-pletely forgotten, Benny found himself in the corner of Jack’s living room getting to know the girl that would eventually become his wife.
“Hello, Benny,” the dead girl said with a smile.
Slowly, Benny reached out and put the palm of his hand on Autumn’s face. Her ice cold skin told him he wasn’t dreaming, “Is it really you? Are you really here?”
“Yes, baby, it’s me.”
Benny then fell to his knees, wrapped his arms around Autumn’s waist, and began to weep uncontrollably.
“Shush, it’s alright, sweetie, I’m back,” Autumn con-soled her husband for a few minutes more, and then said; “I don’t have a great deal of time and there are some very important things I have to tell you.”
“Okay,” Benny said as he stood up and dried his eyes. “How much time do you have?”
“We’ll get to that in a moment. First, I have a very important question to ask you.”
“What is it?”
“Did you pick out this dress?”
Benny looked surprised by this, “I thought you liked that dress.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve always hated this thing.”
“But, you were always showing it to anyone that came over and you’d gloat about how your Aunt Clair had made it for you for Christmas.”
“That doesn’t mean I like it. It certainly doesn’t mean I want to be buried in it.”
Benny smiled, “Well, I was going to bury it anyway, figured I might as well kill two birds with one stone.”
With that, Autumn threw her head back and laughed loudly, and just like that, it was as if they had never been apart.
After the laughter had ceased, Autumn stood on her tip toes and kissed Benny on the cheek. “Let’s go upstairs,” she said, “I want to change into something more comfortable. Besides, this thing got really dirty while I was crawling out of my grave.”
The oddness of her last sentence struck Benny with fresh laughter. It didn’t help that he still wasn’t quite down from the joint he had smoked with Jack earlier.
Man, that was some good shit, Benny thought as his dead wife led him up the stairs. He also began to wonder if the weed could have been laced with something else.
Benny sat down on the bed while Autumn undressed and got into the shower, the whole time wondering if he was dreaming all this, or if maybe he’d gone completely insane. Soon, the shower stopped and Autumn stepped out. Benny stared at her naked, wet body as she toweled off. She was always pale, but now her skin seemed like it was almost solid white, as if you could see how cold it would feel to the touch. His eyes followed the curve of her thigh and up to her large breasts. How he longed to touch her in those places that only he had known for the past ten years. His eyes met hers and she smiled at him as she began to brush her thick black hair and he noticed how much darker they were, where before she had to apply heavy eye make up to get the same effect.
Then he saw the ugly wound in her throat like a se-cret, second mouth that suddenly had the urge to tell the entire world of its existence. He looked away quickly, his chest filling with red hot rage and crushing sorrow.
Autumn took notice of this and said; “I’m sorry. Here, I’ll cover it up.”
She walked across the room to the closet, pulled out a red and black, plaid scarf, and tied it around her neck, covering the cut.
“Better?” she asked.
“Much. Thank you.”
After pulling on a pair of black, silk panties and a matching bra, Autumn began to explain why she had arisen from the grave.
“I know you want to be with me, Benny, but killing yourself won�
�t work.”
“Then, what can I do?”
“Well, first things first, you have to make sure I’m able to rest in peace,” she pulled red and black striped stock-ings over her legs. Autumn noticed the way Benny was staring at her. “There will be time for that later, you naughty boy.
“Anyway, I guess I’m what you would call a restless spirit.”
“So you’re a ghost?” Benny asked while trying to calm himself.
“Not exactly, I’m in my own body, but my body is no longer alive.”
“Then you’re a zombie.”
“Kinda, only I’m capable of coherent thought, and I don’t have a craving for brains or human flesh, you know?”
“Do you have a craving for anything?” Benny in-quired, wondering if she could still eat.
“Well, yeah, but like I said, we’ll have time for that later.”
Benny smiled and felt his pants tighten once again.
“Zip me up,” Autumn said after pulling a lacy, black, dress over her head. Benny zipped her up and realized her outfit was one of her favorite’s to wear at concerts and parties.
“Ah, the ‘Gothic French Maid’ outfit,” he said.
“Yeah, try to control yourself,” she sat down beside him on the bed and her look became serious, “You have to do something for me before I can rest in peace.”
“What is it?”
“You have to avenge me.”
“Then we can be together?”
“When you die I’ll be waiting on the other side for you, but only if I’m avenged and only if you wait until it’s your time. No suicide. Will you avenge my death?”
“Of course I will,” Benny said without hesitation.
She leaned in and gave him a long kiss. Her lips were as cold as an arctic wind.
“Thank you, Benny.”
“How long do we have?”
“Maybe a week,” she said sadly, “Keep in mind, I am still dead and my body will continue to suffer the effects of decomposition.”
“How can I find the man that killed you within a week?”
“Actually, there are six people responsible for my death, and finding them will be easy. I can sense them.”
Avenging Autumn: Seasons Change Book 1 of 4 Page 2
