The Rosaries (Crossroads Series) (6 page)

Belinda Allen felt uneasy. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t quite figure out where the feeling was coming from. She talked to both her children and they were fine; her husband, Jim, was resting comfortably on the recliner in the family room, and she passed her yearly check-up with Dr. Thompson with flying colors. No reasons to worry about anything in particular – so where was this feeling of foreboding coming from? Belinda had experienced strange sensations in the past – premonitions about something imminent to happen – so she had learned to pay attention, but this time the feeling was stronger than usual and she felt almost as if someone was lurking in the shadows, ready to surprise her at any moment. She found that sensation quite unnerving, and she had done her best, since yesterday, to conceal her lack of ease from her husband. She didn’t want to worry Jim; with his heart condition, strong emotions could be fatal, but even a slow simmering anxiety could have long lasting negative effects.

“Belinda” Jim called to the kitchen while she finished cleaning up after their evening meal, “have you talked to Claire Wilson?”

“Not yet, unfortunately. I was planning on stopping by her house after I closed the shop, but then I remembered I had to go by Dr. Thompson to get my results.”

“That’s right. Was everything okay?”

Belinda smiled, turned down the kitchen lights and walked in the family room.

“Everything was fine, thankfully. The doc said that I will live to be a hundred at least. Oh yes, he also said that he would like to put you on a new medicine to control your cholesterol level. He told me to ask you to stop by tomorrow or the day after.”

Jim snorted jokingly. “Did you tell him that my level of cholesterol is down to below zero since you are the family chef now?”

Belinda laughed. Jim still couldn’t swallow the fact that he was no longer allowed to rule the kitchen and fix his own famous southern breakfasts. “Go on, complain if it makes you feel better…you should be happy I’m looking out for your health.” She walked up to the recliner and stamped a loud kiss on Jim’s forehead.

“I’m very happy. We’ll both live to be a hundred. We’ll be a couple of old farts and live happily ever after.”

“Yep, that’s my goal.”

“Say, Belinda, did you hear anything about the paintings that burned down? Gossip had it, today, that most of the works belonged to Natalie Sanders.”

Belinda looked at Jim in surprise.

“Angela Sanders’ daughter? I didn’t know she’s a painter.”

Jim pulled off his reading glasses and put down the crossword puzzle he was holding in his hand. “I didn’t either, until Mrs. Stewart, the librarian, told me Natalie is Mrs. Wilson’s protégé, but art was one of her favorite subjects even when she was a little tyke this high, so I’m not too surprised.”

“That’s quite amazing that Angela’s daughter would be so creative and spontaneous. Angela never struck me as the artist type.”

“Actually, if you ask me, I don’t find it too strange. Kids always end up doing what their parents loathe, especially if they are fought tooth and nail on it. The Sanders never accepted Natalie for the person she really is and they both downright rejected her when it became apparent she didn’t fit the social mold.”

“Jim! You can’t be serious…that bad? I’ve met Angela several times, but to my knowledge I have never met Mr. Sanders, although I have always heard he is a nice if slightly whipped man.”

“Oh yes. He definitely fits the description - he won’t do anything to displease his wife. From what I’ve heard he is a much different man around her than he is when she is not there. Quite a shark in the courtroom, they say, but a goldfish at home, eagerly awaiting the flakes she dispenses to him on occasion. You should have seen how they always treated that poor kid. I don’t even know why they adopted her.”

“Well, I think Angela Sanders believed that she could take a poor, unfortunate little girl and turn her around to become a grand southern dame. When that didn’t happen, the power struggle began.”

“You missed your call as a teacher or therapist, Belinda.” Jim smiled affectionately.

“I went through intensive basic training as a mother.”

Belinda got up to go prepare some tea. Somehow, those little rituals always made her feel better. Right now she really needed the comfort of a good cup. As she stood by the kitchen sink to fill the tea kettle with water, she noticed a shadow darting on the deck outside the kitchen window. Afraid to alarm Jim, she didn’t say anything but her heart leaped. She got a bit closer to the pane and looked out but saw nothing unusual – maybe it was just nerves. She turned the burner on high and pretended to look for a book. Her hands were still shaking, and she tried to stay occupied so that Jim wouldn’t notice how jumpy she was.

Natalie was running, clutching a velvet pouch in her hand. The house was large, the walls were visibly impregnated with age, yet the scenery looked strange and unfamiliar. There were paintings on display, but it didn’t look like any gallery she had seen so far, and it was dark despite the light coming in through the tall windows. She couldn’t see who was chasing her, but knew, somehow, that she couldn’t fight that power alone. She ran outside and saw a young woman standing by one of the lights on a street she had never seen before; she silently pleaded with the woman for help, but the stranger only looked sadly in her direction without speaking. Her skin was ghostly white, and her light blond hair was dirty and matted. She touched Natalie as the two came close, and Natalie felt her bony fingers tighten on her arm.

“Please, help me, he wants to kill me!” Natalie pleaded with the stranger who just stood silent.

The stranger opened her cracked lips and softly whispered words that were almost too quiet to be heard, “It will be okay, Natalie. It’s all part of the design. You already have half the power.” Then the stranger hung her head low and started to cry, rubbing her abdomen; her soft sobs echoed in the empty street.

“But how? What power? Help me! He is trying to kill me!”

The sad woman said nothing, only looked at Natalie with eyes haunted by personal demons.

Natalie could feel the shadow closing in…he was only a few steps away now. She broke free of the woman, and started running again when she heard someone sing, so she stopped for a moment and turned around. The same woman was kneeling beside the street light and looked small and even younger, only a few years older than a child. She sang to herself, a soft and haunting lullaby, her skinny arms wrapped around herself, rocking back and forth. She stopped singing and extended one of her arms out toward Natalie.

“Don’t be afraid, Natalie; it will end soon and you’ll be safe.” The woman was crying again; her wails impregnated the night air and seemed to come from all directions.

Natalie covered her ears, but the sobs became so loud that she soon felt that her head was going to explode.

“You are like me, a lost soul, but soon you will find completion.” The woman said.

“Stop it! I am not like you.”

“You are” The woman said between sobs, “you just don’t know it yet. But, unlike me, you won’t walk alone forever.”

She heard another sound behind her – he was right there. She could feel his energy even if she couldn’t distinguish him from the rest of the shadows.

“Who are you?” She screamed at the dark figure inching toward her, “Leave me alone! What have I done to you? What do you want from me?”

She saw another woman, walking toward her. This new figure appeared more peaceful, stronger than the first one, and she wasn’t scared. Natalie rushed toward the woman, and when their eyes locked, her breath caught in her throat. Natalie was standing in front of herself.

She screamed, and suddenly the strange scene was gone. She sat up in bed and tried to control her breath, looking around the dark room to see things that were familiar to her. She turned on the lamp on the bedside table and threw off the covers. Her mouth was parched, so she
got up to go get a drink of water and shivered when she looked down the dark hallway. She reached out for the light switch and felt a wave of relief as light suddenly flooded all the dark corners. She went to the kitchen and searched for her cigarettes. She normally didn’t smoke inside, but the thought of venturing anywhere outside her safe haven, right now, seemed to border on the unthinkable. She lit a cigarette and went to sit at the kitchen table.

What had happened? Natalie hadn’t had a nightmare in years, and certainly she had never had one quite so scary! Just thinking back about the shadow in the dream made her tremble and she quickly pushed the memory away. After crushing half the cigarette in the ashtray, she saw Billy sleeping soundly on the small love seat in the adjacent family room, so she marched right up to him and picked him up. She needed to feel a warm body, and Billy was a purring bag of melted sugar. She held him tight despite his meows of complaint at being awakened so abruptly, and walked with him toward the bedroom. She gently laid the cat on the bed and lay beside him, stroking his soft fur. Billy looked up and pushed his face into her hand, letting her know she was forgiven.

Wide awake now, she tried to relax but sleep was nowhere near. After lying there for an hour she got up, pulled out a fresh canvas from the closet in her studio and prepared her colors. She felt a yearning inside, a primal call she didn’t understand. Her brush was the mouthpiece of her soul, and Natalie spoke of the anger of the shadow, the sadness of the woman on the street, and the feeling of relief she had felt when she had seen herself as a strong, fearless woman. She painted furiously, bringing to life an image of
herself
slightly different than what she presently looked like; the eyes were the same vibrant hazel green, but her hair was different – chestnut brown, this time, and shoulder-length.

Chapter Four

Catherine
Bouvier
looked outside her window. This year the weather had been exceptionally beautiful, with warm sunny days and generous overnight showers which the locals considered a blessing for the typically water-starved crops.

Last night she didn’t sleep very well, as short spells of deep sleep were repeatedly broken by a strange weight on her chest and a suspicious shortness of breath she still experienced long after she woke. She vowed to keep her discomfort from
Lakeisha
and Angela. The last thing she needed right now was to be treated like a child. Something had shifted inside of her the past two days and although she didn’t want to face it, Catherine knew it was time to face reality before it’s too late. She was happy to have called Tom and her lawyer. She felt another fleeting sensation of pain in her chest, and again her breathing became labored. She stood up with effort and called
Lakeisha
, her previous thoughts of ignoring the symptoms quickly being replaced by a growing sense of alarm. A moment later,
Lakeisha
came into her room.

“Did you call, Ms. Catherine?”

The instant she laid eyes on the old woman,
Lakeisha
knew something was wrong. Catherine’s eyes looked as if they had sunk into her face and deep dark circles stained the creamy skin around them. Her lips appeared thinner and very white.

“Are you okay, Ms. Catherine?”

“No,
Lakeisha
, I don’t feel very well today. I need you to do something for me.”

Lakeisha
nodded and touched Catherine’s arm to feel her body temperature – stone cold.

“Ms. Catherine, it’d be best if we get medical help…”

Catherine raised a hand and stopped
Lakeisha
before she could say more.

“There is something I must do first,
Lakeisha
, and I need your help.”

“Anything, Ms. Catherine, what is it?”

Catherine turned her eyes toward the desk at the far corner of the room. “I wrote a letter to my niece, yesterday. I suppose my old body already knew something was going to happen, even if I wasn’t aware of it yet. I put the letter in the top drawer of my desk. Should something happen to me, please, take it and give it to her.”

Lakeisha
swallowed hard. “Of course, Ms. Catherine. You know I will do as you ask, but let’s get you ready now, and let’s call your sister.”

Catherine felt weaker by the minute, and had no strength to fight
Lakeisha’s
decision. She nodded and watched as
Lakeisha
packed a few things for her, in the event she was admitted to the hospital. In a few minutes
Lakeisha
was done and was already dialing Angela’s number. It was a brief exchange and Catherine assumed her sister had instructed the nurse to call an ambulance. She saw the paramedics arrive, but by then her breathing was so bad that her oxygen level must have dropped very low, and she barely had enough air to remain conscious. She was strapped to the stretcher and whisked away before she had the chance to say goodbye to all the things she held dear throughout her life. Somehow, Catherine knew she wasn’t coming back. Maybe Natalie could make better all the wrongs she had done.