Whispers of Death (5 page)

    “You have raised yourselves a great boy,” Peter said. “He is such a great big brother.”

    “He takes after his father,” I said, smiling.

    Mark winked at me. “Peter do you want to go play some golf next weekend?” he asked.

    Peter instantly grinned. “Looking to get beat again huh?” He teased.

    “Hey now, the last time wasn’t my fault.  You cheated.” Mark joked back.

    “Whatever! It’s not my fault you can’t hit a drive.” He laughed.

    “Now boys, let’s be nice,” Olive said sarcastically.

    Laughing, I opened the paper to search for any coupons.  The headline on the front page caught my attention.  My mind raced across the words, reading them over and over.      “Mark, look at this,” I said, holding out the paper and pointing to the article.

DOCTORS UNABLE TO RELIEVE DYING PATIENTS’ PAIN

    Mark looked at me. “What about it?” he asked.

    “I don’t know.  Something about this article bothers me,” I said.

    “Lia, you have always had a soft heart.  When people are hurt, you never seem to handle it well,” Olive said. “Maybe you are just bothered that they are in pain.”

    I sat down at the table and read the headline again.  Olive could be right.  I never did handle people’s pain very well.  I pushed the paper away, but the words kept racing through my mind.  Mark put a glass of water on the table in front of me and eyed me suspiciously.

    “You okay?” he asked. “Your face is starting to look a little pale.”

    “Yeah, I’m fine.” I lied. “Liv, do you guys want to do something with us today?” I said, quickly changing the subject and flashing the best smile I could.  It seemed to work; Mark walked away and started pestering Peter again about going golfing.

    “What do you have in mind?” she asked.

    “Maybe we can get a sitter for the kids and go on a double date tonight.  I would love to go see a movie and go to dinner with you guys.”

    “Sure.  That sounds like fun.  Is that okay Peter?”

    “What?” he asked, completely unaware of our conversation.

    “Lia and Mark want to know if we want to double with them tonight and go to a movie and dinner.  Is that okay?”

    “Of course, but I’m not going to any chick flick.  If we’re going to a movie it’d better be a good one,”  Peter answered.

    “Now what is wrong with a good ole’ fashioned chick flick?” Olive laughed. “They are good.”

    “No, they are all the same.  Guy likes girl, girl likes guy, there’s a problem, they get together in the end,” Mark said.

    “Not true!” Olive retorted. “They aren’t all like that.”

    I laughed. “Well actually Livie I have to agree with my husband on this one.  They pretty much are all like that.  If not, no one would want to see them.  No one wants to see the bad guy win.”

    Olive threw a napkin in my direction. “You aren’t supposed to side with the men!”

    “Did you seriously just throw a napkin at me?” I giggled.

    That was all it took; Olive and I erupted into solid fits of laughter.  The kind only sisters would understand.

Five

    Our evening out was just what the doctor had ordered.  It was filled with laughter, good food, and a nice action-packed chick flick.  Of course I got Mark to agree that we needed to see a romantic comedy, if only so Olive and I would stop pestering them.  I loved hanging out with my sister and her husband and found myself borrowing her feelings of utter joy so I could hide my own true feelings.  The article in the newspaper still picked at my brain, wanting me to help those poor people in any way I could.  How could doctors not be able to relieve their patients’ pain?

    That wasn’t all that bothered me though; I still couldn’t get the conversation with Mindy’s dad out of my head.  His voice had seemed edgy, almost afraid as he thanked me for the doll, and I couldn’t help but still wonder what he was thinking. Maybe I had upset him by giving the doll to Mindy, or maybe he didn’t want me getting close to their family so soon after his wife’s death.

    I shook my head and tried to focus on making breakfast for the kids before we left for church.  I stirred the eggs and flipped the bacon.  It sizzled and spurted grease all over the stovetop.  I really hated making bacon, but it was Hunter’s favorite.  I quickly set the table and poured a couple of glasses of cold milk, stirring in a few teaspoons of chocolate syrup, this time to please Abby.

    “Breakfast is ready!” I called down the hall.

    Abby came running toward me first, her pink dress tucked into her tights and her shoes on the wrong feet.  I giggled and quickly pulled down her dress.

    “Thank you mommy.” She smiled.

    Hunter sat down at the table and dished himself a large plate of bacon and eggs.  He shoveled the food into his mouth so fast you would have thought he had never eaten before.

    “Why the hurry?” I asked.

    Hunter gave me a closed mouth smile and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I want to finish my drawing before we leave,” he replied.

    “What are you drawing?”

    “You’ll see,” he answered mysteriously.

    “Good morning,” Mark said, entering the kitchen and kissing me on the cheek.

    “Gross dad, can’t you do that when I’m not in the room,” Hunter said, making a gagging sound.

    Mark laughed. “Nope, your mother needs to know that I love her, no matter who is in the room.” He winked.

    Hunter stuck his finger in his mouth, pretending to make himself throw up, and Abby laughed.

    Mark tousled his hair and grabbed a plate full of food.  He looked so handsome in a suit and tie.  It made my heart skip a beat, and I thanked the stars that he was mine.

    Hunter quickly finished his breakfast, cleaned off his plate, and ran back to his room.

    “Where’s the fire?” Mark asked me.

    “Hunter is drawing and wants to finish before we leave for church.”

    “What’s he drawing?”

    “He wouldn’t tell me.  He said I would see later.”

    Mark shrugged. “Why don’t you go get ready? I’ll clean up breakfast.”

    “Are you sure? I can do it.  I’m almost ready anyway,” I said.

    “I’m sure.”

    I had laid my dress out that morning, and as I slipped it over my head and felt the cool fabric slide down my legs, it gave me goose bumps.  I really didn’t like this dress that much, but it was comfortable.  As I finished buckling my shoes, Hunter ran in with his hands behind his back.  I could tell he had been using the charcoal set to draw this picture; charcoal was smeared all over his cheek.  I stifled my laughter.

    “Well, are you going to let me see your masterpiece?” I teased.

    Hunter smiled and pulled the large sheet of paper from behind his back.  As he spun it around, my blood froze and the smile vanished from my face. Staring back at me was a tall figure draped in black robes.

    “Do you like it?”

    I couldn’t answer.

    “Mom?”  he asked again.

    I blinked. “Hunter what is that?” I squeaked.  My heart pounded so loudly in my chest, I was sure he could hear it.

    “I’m not sure. I see him sometimes, walking around. He even talks to me,” he answered.

    The grin on his face stretched from ear to ear.  He was very pleased with his work.  I tried to smile back, but I still couldn’t seem to function.

    “What do you mean you
see
him?” I tried to say, without showing how scared I was.

    “Well, sometimes I see him standing outside, but I saw him in the living room on Friday, then he asked me to draw his picture while we were at Aunt Livie’s on Friday night and give it to you,” he said nonchalantly.

    My whole body shook with fear.  My son could see and talk with Death.  I collapsed onto the bed, my hand over my mouth.  Tears began filling my eyes.

    “He spoke to you?” I whispered.

    “Hey Hunter what are you…” Mark stopped, his eyes focused on my face, then on the picture his son was holding.

    “Do you like it dad?” Hunter asked, oblivious to my shock.

    “Hunter, what is that?” he asked seriously.

    Mark listened as Hunter explained the drawing.  As he listened he watched my face, understanding sweeping across his own.

    “What’s the matter?  Don’t you like it?” he asked, pulling his drawing back behind his back.

    “No sweetie, it’s an amazing drawing.  One of the best you’ve done,” I managed to squeak.

    His smile returned, and he turned and ran back down the hall.  My whole body shook.  Mark wrapped his arms around me and held me as I cried.

    “Mark, he is visiting our son!” I sobbed. "Our Son!  Why is he here?”

    “Amelia, is that the same man from your dreams?” he asked.

    I nodded, burying my face in his clean white shirt.

    “Why is he talking to my son?  What does he want with us?”

    He rubbed his hand down my back and held me as I cried.  He didn’t respond to my questions, and I could tell that he was lost in his own thoughts.  I think he finally understood that this was more than a nightmare, more than me just having some illusion; it was real, and either I was in danger or someone in our family was.

    I watched as the realization swept across my husband’s face.  I was almost relieved that he finally understood.  I finally felt like I wasn’t alone.  He smoothed my hair and pulled my chin up so he could look into my eyes.

    “We will figure this thing out,” he whispered carefully. “Whatever this is, I promise, we will figure it out.”

    I hugged my husband and wiped the tears from my cheeks.  A black smudge appeared on my hand.  I sighed; my makeup was smeared all over my face.  I walked quickly to the bathroom.  As I stared at myself in the mirror I realized how terrible I looked.  The lack of sleep and the constant state of fear was taking its toll on me.  I was pale, with dark circles under my eyes.  My lips were chapped and cracking, and my hair that I had taken so much care into doing that morning was sticking up in every direction.  I did my best to smooth it down and then sprayed it with hairspray.  I knew the spray wouldn’t last very long, but it was the best that I had.  I put a little extra lipstick on and tried to hide my dark circles as best as I could.  Satisfied that I had done everything that I could, I walked back into the bedroom.

    Mark was still sitting quietly on the bed.  He covered his face with his hands, and I could tell he was having a hard time with this newfound knowledge that Death was after me.  I crossed the room and pulled him towards me.  He wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug and kissed me softly on the cheek.

    “We need to get going soon,” I told him after a long embrace.

    He nodded and went to get ready.  I had to pull myself together; my children couldn’t be witness to the fear that had completely enveloped me.  Abby was sitting on her floor, surrounded by her stuffed animals.  Her dress was now on backwards, and her shoes were still on the wrong feet.  I giggled and quickly fixed her appearance.

    “Mommy?”

    “Yes sweetie?”

    “Why are you crying?” she asked in her sweet little voice. “Did Hunter’s drawing make you sad?”

    “No sweet pea.  Mommy is just so proud of both of you.”

    She smiled at me.  Her little smile could brighten anyone’s day.

    Church went quickly, and I felt peace as soon as I’d entered the building.  Mark hadn’t said much since his information overload this morning.  He seemed lost in thought.  As his friends talked to him, I kept having to nudge him to get him to respond.  They seemed to sense that he wasn’t himself after awhile and moved on.

    “Mark, you need to stop thinking about it,” I told him on the drive home. “I don’t know what this means, so until then let’s just pretend nothing happened.”

    He rolled his eyes. “You can’t just pretend that nothing happened.  This is serious.  What are we supposed to do?”

    I reached across and grabbed his hand and glanced toward the back of the car.  Hunter and Abby were sitting quietly looking out the window. “I don’t know,” I finally said.

    As we approached the house, we saw an unfamiliar car parked on the curb next to our house.  A tall man stood next to it, holding the hand of a little girl. I recognized her immediately.  It was Mindy from Abby’s class.  Abby saw her as soon as I did and squealed in delight.

    “Mommy look it’s Mindy!” she squealed.

    “Yes I see her,” I said.

     We pulled up, and Abby bolted from the car as soon as we stopped and ran to her friend.  “Hi Mindy!  Did you come to play?”

    Mindy hid behind her dad’s back and stared at all of us.  The doll that we had given her was wrapped tightly in her arms.  She didn’t answer Abby.

    “Well hello Mr. Tate. What a pleasant surprise!”  I said, approaching them. “What do we owe the pleasure?”

    “James, please,” he answered politely.  “I wonder if I could have a few minutes of your time?”

    “Of course,” I said.  “Abby, why don’t you and Hunter show Mindy all of your toys,”  I told them.  Abby quickly grabbed hold of a very reluctant Mindy and pulled her inside.  We followed closely behind and showed James to the living room.

    “I am so sorry to intrude, but what I have to say can’t wait,” James said.

    “It’s no intrusion.  What can we do for you?” Mark replied.

    “As you know, several months ago my wife passed away from breast cancer,” he said, not waiting for any more of an invitation. “Her name was Vanessa, and she meant the world to me.  The day we found out that she had advanced cancer was a day I will never forget.  After many tests, we were told she wouldn’t have more than three or four weeks of life left.  We were devastated.  The next few weeks, Vanessa struggled.  She was in constant pain, and nothing the doctors gave her worked.  They eventually put her into a comma to try to ease her pain, however we watched helplessly as she fought the pain even in sleep.  At times she would even scream in agony.  The doctors were clueless and quickly woke her up so they could attempt other methods of pain relief.  The pain became so intense that she lost the ability to speak.  The day before she passed away, she motioned that she wanted to write something down.  I quickly got her a pen and paper, and she quickly jotted down this small note,” he said, showing me the letter. “I would like you to read it.” He handed me the paper.