Whispers of Death (7 page)

    I nodded. "Dozens, hundreds."

    He wrapped his arms around me. "We’ll figure this out," he whispered. "Why don't you just stay in bed today, and I'll take Hunter to school and see his teacher about what happened?"

    "Today?" I pulled away from him, shocked. “I have been in here all night?"

    "Yes, after James left, I came to talk to you, and you were sound asleep. You seemed to be sleeping peacefully and didn't so much as move all night long.  When my alarm went off, I got dressed and fed the kids breakfast.  That’s when we heard you scream that you couldn't help them.  We ran in and found you on your knees on the floor."

    I had been gone or asleep for hours, but it had only felt like a few minutes.  What was going on?  "I want to come to the school," I finally said.

    "Are you sure? I can handle it," Mark said.

    "I'm sure.  Hunter needs me and is counting on me to be there for him."  As I said the words, I felt a twinge of guilt.  That was all those other people were asking for, and I’d turned them away.

    I quickly showered and put my hair in a wet ponytail.  We had an appointment with Hunter's teacher before the first bell.  The kids didn't say a single word when I emerged from the bedroom; they just stared at me.  I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around both of them.

    "Sorry about that," I whispered, "I was having a very bad dream." I explained.  Hunter looked at me, his eyes full of questions; he looked scared.

    "Do you need to sleep with my stuffy?" Abby asked me.

    I thought of Abby's little giraffe that she called Stuffy. "No sweetie, he needs you, but thank you for asking," I said, rubbing her hair.

    She smiled, and all thoughts of earlier seemed to have disappeared.  I loved that about her; she was so easy to please.  Hunter on the other hand was not buying into the bad dream story.  He glared at me, and I gave him another hug.

    "I'm okay." I lied, "I really did just have a bad dream."

    He shrugged his shoulders and turned away from me.  I knew he didn't believe me, but I couldn't tell him what was really going on, not yet.  I quickly grabbed a Pop-Tart, and we hurried out the door.  As I looked back, a young girl watched me from the doorway.  I shook my head and piled into the car.

Seven

    The sounds of laughter filled the halls of the school as we walked Abby to her classroom. Hunter fidgeted beside me, his nerves taking a toll on him.  I tussled his hair and winked at him.  He gave me a shy half smile.  Abby squealed as she spotted Mindy.  The two girls embraced one another in a tight hug, then each turned and gave Mark and I big bear hugs before running into their classroom.

    "By sweetheart, have a great day!" I yelled after her.  She turned quickly and gave me one last little wave.

    "That was unexpected," Mark said quietly, referring to the big hug he had received from Mindy.

    I smiled, thoughts of her mom flashing to the front of my mind. "She's a sweet girl."

    Hunter was already several steps ahead of us as we approached his classroom.  The teacher was waiting for us and pointed us toward the small computer lab next door.  Hunter glanced back with a look of derision before finding his seat in his classroom.  He quickly took out his sketchpad and pencils and started to draw.  He usually did that when he was uncomfortable.

   "Bye Hunter, we'll talk to you later," I whispered, hoping I didn't embarrass him.  He nodded at me before returning to his drawing.  Mark and I walked into the computer lab and waited for the teacher to come in.  I fidgeted with my fingers and stared at the blinking cursor on the computer next to me. Mark grabbed my hand and smiled.  Instantly I felt more relaxed.

    "I'm sorry," she said, sitting across from us and holding out her hand. "Monday mornings are usually so crazy. I'm Mrs. Hale."

    "No need to apologize." I assured her, shaking her hand. "It's not a problem. This is Mark, and I'm Amelia."

    "A pleasure.  How can I help you today?" she asked.

    I looked at Mark, hoping that he would see my plea for him to break the ice. I sighed as he began talking.

    "Mrs. Hale, our son Hunter is having a hard time with one of the students in his grade," he began.  "The boy has been bullying him at school and on Friday stole money from him that he was going to use to purchase a survival bracelet."

    "Oh my, I'm terribly sorry. I had no idea!" she exclaimed. "Do you know who the boy is?"

    I looked at her, almost afraid to tell her that her son was the bully.  She seemed so kind. I almost chickened out.

    "Actually, it's your son," I told her.

    She gasped, her politeness completely disappearing into a look that can only be described as shock.  She covered her mouth with her hand. "Are you sure?" she whispered.

    "Yes."

    "How much money did he take from your son?" she asked.

    "It was five dollars," Mark replied.

    She left the room and came back a moment later with her purse. "I'm so sorry.  He came home Friday so excited.  When I asked him what he was so excited about, he told me that he found five dollars at recess and the front desk told him that he could keep it. I assure you, he will not do this again." Her fingers trembled as she pulled a five-dollar bill from her wallet.  As she reached out to hand it to me, her purse slipped from her other hand and crashed to the floor.  All the contents spilled out around her.  She quickly bent to pick them up, and Mark and I tried to help.  I grabbed a couple of items, but my hand stopped on a picture of a young girl. I gasped, dropping the picture back to the floor.  My legs began to shake, forcing me to sit back down.

    "Are you alright?" Mrs. Hale asked, the politeness returning with an added touch of concern.

    Mark stared at me, unsure what I had seen.

    "Yes, I'm sorry." I leaned over and picked the picture back up off the floor. "Is this your daughter?" I asked, handing her the picture, trying to conceal my shaking frame.

    Her eyes focused on the picture. "Yes," she said quietly, "this is Zoe; she died six months ago."

    "I'm so sorry," I said respectfully. I waited for a moment, then decided I couldn't hold it in any longer.  "Do you mind if I ask how she died?" My tone sounded more urgent than I had planned, but I knew that young girl; I had just told her I couldn't help her as she stood in an empty graveyard.

    "Not at all," Mrs. Hale continued, not recognizing my urgency. "Zoe loved to be outside.  She liked it so much, that my husband decided that she needed to have a tree house to play in." Her tone changed, and the sadness was lost in the joy of talking about her daughter. "The look on her face when it was finished was priceless," she continued,  "you would have thought that she had just been given the greatest thing in the whole world, and I'm sure that's exactly what she thought.  She played in there all day long.  We had tea parties and sleepovers inside, and we even let her paint it all by herself.  Logan also loved it, and they would fight over who got to go up first.  One afternoon, Zoe ran outside to play in the tree house, but Logan beat her to the ladder.  Zoe decided she was going up anyway and pushed past Logan and began to climb but lost her footing and slipped from halfway up the ladder.  Logan tried to catch her, but she fell and hit her head.  She died a few hours later from severe head trauma.”

    I was crying as she told me the story.  She grabbed a tissue from her pocket and handed it to me.  Her own tears flowed down her cheeks.  Mark had been listening in silence, but I saw him wipe his eye when he didn't think I was looking.

    "I'm truly so sorry. That must have been very hard on all of you," I said, trying to console her.

    "Logan took it the hardest; he still blames himself and has been acting out for a couple of months now.  Which is why he probably started to be a bully at school.  We put him in counseling, but he's just shut himself off from us." She sighed and quickly wiped her tears. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be putting all my troubles on you." She gathered the rest of the items and quickly tucked them back into her purse.  "I will talk to him and have him write a letter of apology."

    "No," I said quickly. "Hunter doesn't want him to know that he told us. He’s afraid that it will make matters worse, and he will get bullied even more.  Not just by Logan, but other kids as well.  I promised him we would be discreet.  We would appreciate it if you could be as well.  Maybe there is a way you can approach him without letting him know that you know the truth."

    She thought for a moment. "That will be easy enough.  I will tell him I talked to the front desk.  He will then have to come clean about where he really got the money."

    A bell sounded throughout the building.

    "I'm so sorry, I must get to my classroom.  Thank you for listening; you have no idea how much that meant to me," Mrs. Hale said gratefully. "I'm also very sorry about Logan."

    "Thank you for letting us come talk with you. We're sorry about Zoe," Mark said, standing and shaking her hand.  I followed them both out the door.  My mind was filled with images of Zoe, but I had to stay focused on what was happening right now.  I shook Mrs. Hale's hand and waved at Hunter through the open door.

    As the classroom door shut, Mark was at my side.  He knew that I was having a hard time standing.  My legs still trembled beneath me, and my breathing had become shallow.  He didn't say a word as he led me out the front doors to the car.  We rode in silence back to the house.  He helped me inside and laid me down on the couch. He left and returned a few minutes later with a glass of water.  I accepted it gratefully, drinking the entire thing.

    "Have you seen that little girl?" he finally asked.

    I trembled, afraid of what his reaction might be. "This morning," was all I could get out.

    His head dropped. "Did she ask you for help like you said James's wife did?"

    I nodded.

    He stood up and paced the room.  I could tell he was scared.  Who wouldn't be?  This wasn't just some nightmare anymore. I was having visions.  Spirits were coming to visit me, pleading for my help.  What help I could give them, I still didn't know.

    "What could they need?" Mark said aloud.

    I knew he wasn't speaking directly to me, so I remained quiet.  Not knowing the answer myself, it wouldn't have helped if I’d answered anyway.  He stopped and stared out the window.

    "Mark?"

    He turned at looked solemnly at me, but didn't speak.

    "I have to help them."

    His eyes watched me as I spoke the words.  He stood silent for a long time, just staring at me.  I began counting his breaths in my mind, wondering how long it would take for him to respond.  It was like I had told him I wanted to die, and I knew that he didn't like the idea.

    "How?"

    Now it was my turn to be silent. I had no idea how I was going to help those spirits or even if I could. My mind was spinning with different horrible thoughts.

    "I don't know, but I'm sure that Death has a plan," I said, hoping that it would stop my mind from thinking up horrible ways I would die.

    "I won't let you die," Mark said, reading my thoughts. "You can't leave me, not now, not ever."

    He crossed the room and bent down next to me, placing his head in my lap; he cried.  I didn't know what to do. I had really never seen my husband cry, except a few tears of joy when the kids were born, our wedding day, and a few tears here and there when something affected him.  This was different.  I wrapped my arms around my husband and let him release his fear and anger. Several long minutes passed as we sat wrapped in each other's arms.  Soon I began to see little shimmers of light around the room.  They danced playfully from one end to the other before disappearing again.  I knew immediately that it was more spirits, each one waiting for me to come with them, eager to have my help. I pulled away from Mark and stared into his eyes.

    "I don't know what Death expects me to do, or even if I can help, but I will come home to you and the kids." My voice trembled as I spoke.  I would need to learn to control my fear.  I would need to be strong for Mark and for my kids, no matter what.

    Mark gave me his best sideways smile. "I believe you," he said, although his voice wasn't as strong as he wanted it to be.

    "You need to get to work, and I really need to get some housework done around here," I said, pushing myself up from the couch and pulling him to his feet.

    He pulled me into a big bear hug, lifting me off my feet. "I love you!" he whispered lovingly in my ear.

    "I love you more," I told him back.

    He kissed me before returning me to the ground and left me standing alone in the living room.  He returned a few minutes later, dressed in a suit.  He kissed me again, told me how much he loved me, grabbed a banana from the kitchen counter, and walked out the door.

    I waited for the car to leave the driveway before returning to the living room.  The spirits still waited there.

    "How can I help?" I asked, unsure of what else to do.

    The hair on my neck stood on end, and chills rushed down my body.  The air around me turned cold.  I knew that could only mean one thing.  I turned around and came face-to-face with Death.  His black cloak wisped back and forth in a breeze I couldn't feel.  He reached for me.

    I backed away. "Do you promise that I will be returned to my family unharmed?" I asked.

    Death stood and stared at me.  I watched as a dark smile etched across his face. "You have my word." He nodded.

    Having Death speak to you wasn't something I think anyone could ever get used to.  His voice was dark and somehow seemed so distant but also like he was speaking directly into your ear.  The sound echoed through my mind and turned the chills to a full-on shiver.

    I looked around the living room one more time, focusing on the family picture we had taken a couple of months ago.  Hunter and Abby smiled so big that it filled my heart with pride.  I looked into the dark eyes of my husband, smiled, and turned back towards Death. He waited patiently. I sighed heavily, closed my eyes, and felt my mind go blank as his cold hand clasped my arm.