The Tree Goddess

by Tom Raimbault

  With the crawlspace restored to normal, Jeff climbed back up to the kitchen, replaced the panel and noticed a collection of dirt, salt and yucky fluids spread along the floor. This would be an afternoon when Jeff thoroughly swept and mopped the floor before Mother arrived home. She warned him about sticky soda and juice. But this sort of mess might be the last straw. He often observed Mother use the disposable wet-mop cloths that were located under the kitchen sink.

  In the middle of mopping, the sound of the garage door opening could be heard. Jeff scrubbed the area in such frenzy! It all had to be cleaned! But so what if she caught him mopping? He was expected to clean up after himself.

  “Jeff are you okay?” Karen took sight of her son busily mopping an area near the pantry. She had never seen him take hold of a mop before.

  “Sorry Mom; I spilled some soda on the floor.”

  * * *

  Just like Jeff, Paul was unable to go out after dinner. But Paul's reason was different from Jeff's in that tonight was Monday which meant that his mother, Stephanie, would go to the gym for evening aerobics. His stepfather, Frank, slept in the late afternoon / evening hours which meant that it was necessary for Paul to remain at home and watch his younger siblings. He would, however, be part of the sinister plot as he needed to keep his younger brothers in another area of the house.

  Just about all of the houses in Maple Sap are sprawling ranches. Some are on a slab; some have a crawlspace underneath. In the darkness of a November, early evening; seven members of the Grave Robbers club rolled a Radio Flyer wagon with a wooden chest across the street to their friend, Paul's, house. It was wheeled to the backdoor where pallbearers lifted the “coffin” from the wagon, and quietly moved the wagon and plywood into the house. The naked corpse was removed from the wooden chest and rested directly on the plywood in the house.

  Some of the boys experienced Frank's flaring temper on the day he was disturbed from sleep and hurled a bowling ball through the wall. Needless to say, they were concerned that the man would wake up. But Paul insisted that his stepfather was usually passed out cold. 14 beers were counted in the trash can that afternoon, and his continuous snores verified deep sleep. With Paul and his siblings in the opposite wing of the house, seven pallbearers quietly rolled the wagon down the hall, and opened the door of Frank's bedroom. The smell of metabolized beer hung in the air.

  Seven pallbearers summoned the strength to not only lift the naked, dead woman; but gently place her on the bed, next to Frank, while exercising caution not to wake him.

  Keep in mind that the corpse had remained in that wooden chest for 30 years. The head and feet were elevated at the top, while the hips had sagged at the bottom. Setting the stiff corpse on the bed had caused her locked legs to pull the weight over so that she suddenly turned, causing the bed to shake. All the boys stopped breathing!

  Frank awoke slightly and mumbled, “Whuh? You want some, Baby?”

  Then he rolled over and spooned the naked corpse from behind with his hand over the mutilated breast. And just when the boys thought the end was near, Frank's snoring resumed!

  The boys did everything in their power to hold back the laughter. They wheeled the wagon out the backdoor and burst out spasms of uncontrollable laughter. They ran down the street like a pack of wild hyenas with the Radio Flyer literally flying behind them! The wooden chest was brought to the neighborhood park where it was dumped in the drainage pond. In celebration of a mission accomplished, the seven boys cheered out, “Grave Robbers Anonymous!”

  * * *

  9:00 in the evening, Stephanie opened the door of her bedroom to awaken drunken Frank for work. Paul was getting ready for bed, but listened attentively to the activities of the room next door.

  “Frank?”

  “Hmm…”

  “Frank, you need to wake up for work.”

  “Frank, who do you have in bed with you?”

  The click of the light switch could be heard followed by a gasp and scream from Mother. A thud sound indicated that Frank had jumped out of bed. It was followed by a series of profanity as the confused man tried to process what he was seeing. “What is that? Is that thing real? Is that real? It's real! Pauly, get in here!”

  Mother argued back, “Frank, are you out of your mind? You think he did this? You think he found a corpse and put it in bed with you while you were sleeping?”

  There was no other explanation as Frank argued back, “Well how did it get there?”

  All Frank and Stephanie could do was stare in numbing shock at the naked, mummified, female corpse that lay in their bed. Its fingers had been cut off and stuck in the mouth. Screwdrivers had been jammed into the eye sockets. And paint roller sticks had been inserted throughout various orifices. How would such a thing end up in their bed? Even worse, who would have abused a corpse in such a disturbing manner?

  Bill and Karen Greenstart watched from their living room window as swarms of police cars and other emergency vehicles parked up and down the street. Karen wasn't sure why, but she suspected that, somehow, Jeff was involved.

  * * *

  And so was nearly a decade in Stephanie's life. It was a decade that started as a wife and young mother; married to a kind and patient gentleman. It would draw to a close; married to a drunken, abusive monster that slept with a mutilated corpse! The relationship between her son, Paul, and second husband, Frank, had grown increasingly worse so that Paul moved out of state to be with his own father and his new family. But Stephanie's story was far from over! A couple years later, she would contribute to another disappearance in the town of Mapleview.

  Chapter 18

  Certainly a mysterious character who lived in one of the apartment complexes of downtown Mapleview, those who took sight of Steve Coldsworth might have wanted to know more about him. Outside of a uniquely-creative, starving and frustrated artist, what did he do? Surely he must have worked.

  Traveling through Mapleview each day; past the Trivelli house, past Hotlicks where Route 4 begins; Steve further ventured to a rural, farm-like community just outside of Sillmac that was home to a major sawmill and lumber distribution warehouse. This was Steve's place of employment.

  Work was not too important for Steve. He couldn't be bothered with the small, miscellaneous tasks as a warehouse associate. His manager noticed that Steve appeared unmotivated and easily distracted while exhibiting occasional, poor workmanship. Such an employee couldn't be trusted with high-tech machinery that could damage precious, raw materials or cause fatalities. The easily distracted, frustrated artist was given duties such as stacking lumber, transporting bundles to the warehouse floor and sweeping when needed.

  It was a fine, September morning with October a day-or-so away; and a couple weeks since the disappearance of the Hotlicks girl, Kelly. Steve turned onto the main road of Mapleview on his way to work. Some distance down the road a pair of gorgeous, muscular legs jogged. They belonged to middle-aged wife and mother, Stephanie. (It was at least over a year since the corpse had been discovered sleeping with her husband) If there was ever a woman who maintained her youthful exuberance while finding a means to freeze time, Stephanie would fit that description. But outside of a pair of legs that would look perfect on the Tree Goddess painting, Steve knew nothing of the woman.

  Steve couldn't help but wonder, “Who is she? Where does she live? Where could I see her again, preferably close enough for study and examination?”

  Time was running out for another possibility of studying the subject's legs, for the days were getting cooler, and autumn was pretty much in the air. Soon, the woman might not be able to wear shorts to expose her beautiful legs and thighs.

  Steve spent that morning of inspiration at work, stacking small 4' x 4' cuts of plywood and then binding them for delivery. Through the monotonous, mindless task, the frustrated artist was able to remain obsessed with the woman who jogged as he realized that finding legs for the Tree Goddess wouldn't be as easy as finding the arms. Legs had to be strong enough to suppo
rt the weight of a tree. A pair of muscular thighs and legs was ideal; but they couldn't be too thick as the limbs needed to suggest graceful femininity. Stephanie's legs had both qualities of muscle and that of being a woman. How he wished to see this woman again!

  This day of discovering Stephanie's legs was a Thursday. With one final weekend of somewhat warm conditions forecasted for Mapleview, Steve had to find the mystery woman within the next couple of days. But how? It would require diligent search and stalking. It might involve calling in sick the following day in hopes to see the woman running. Then he could carefully follow behind and learn of where she lived. But it was still only chance as success depended on the mere possibility that the mystery woman was a stay-at-home mom, never leaving for work. Considering the importance of his new masterpiece, Steve left work at his usual quitting time with the decision in mind to call off sick the following day.

  6:00 am Friday morning, the obsessed artist drove up and down the main road of Mapleview in search of the beautiful, gorgeous legs that jogged only yesterday. Maybe she took a different route that day. She had to live nearby! Maybe her residence was in the tree-lined, single-family-home subdivision of Maple Sap. But a drive through the winding roads and cul-de-sacs would produce no encounter of the jogging woman who possessed the legs of a goddess.

  Discouragement needed defeat! Steve took the day off in a sacrifice for his art and he couldn't give up now. The possibility that Friday mornings wouldn't involve the ritual of jogging could not spell the end for his search. He was determined to find the woman, even if it meant seeing her in a car driving to work. If needed, Steve would follow the woman to her place of work, wait for the day to end and then follow her home for further stalking.

  For Steve, that Friday morning would be the Mapleview 500! His search followed a repeated route that went up and down the main road, through the apartment complex, through the winding subdivision of Maple Sap, through the business streets in town and around back to the main road. The sun continued to rise in the sky; morning commuters cluttered the roadways; and children stood at the bus stops. There was still no sign of the jogging woman.

  9:00 am, the streets had cleared of commuters and school buses. By now, Steve was devastated with despair upon the realization that he would not find his study. The persistence of cruising the Mapleview 500 was soon a devotion that enslaved the obsessed artist. Although he may have lost the chance to study the woman's legs, he still had the undying determination of an artist. Vincent Van Goah cut off his ear to show love for a woman. Steve would die of starvation in a relentless search for his jogger woman.

  Then, in an unbelievable reward for purely, mad obsession; Steve found his study (Stephanie) at the local park in the subdivision of Maple Sap. It was 10:15 in the morning and she appeared to have taken a small child, perhaps her son, to the park. Whatever her reason for being there, Steve needed to act quick and come close to those beautiful legs.

  Parking his car down the street, he inconspicuously walked over to the playground and to the monkey bar area where the jogger's apparent child played. His plan was to blend in as another parent who might have been visiting the park with his own kids. In an effort to be convincing, his right hand saluted over both eyes to block the sun as he gazed in the distance for his imaginary children. Appearing satisfied, Steve was now at ease and then turned to the small child who played on the monkey bars. “Are you big enough to go across that yourself?”

  The little boy gave the strange man a blank stare and watched as he turned to Mommy to give a friendly, “Hi.”

  Mommy cautiously returned the greeting with a short, “Hi” of her own. To the little boy, the situation looked ordinary and went back to his play on the monkey bars.

  Although Steve may have felt avoided, he persisted in his small talk with the woman in shorts. “Man, it's a beautiful day out here. I love having Fridays off, and my kids like when I have it off, too. This is supposed to be the final weekend of nice weather.”

  Stephanie only nodded with an uninterested smile and walked a few feet to a wide-open area. She didn't know who Steve was and didn't care. She wasn't at the park to socialize with some strange guy, only there to let her kid play while she did leg exercises. But little did Stephanie know that the mini-workout was the perfect opportunity for the gawking artist to fully study every line and curve of her lower limbs. Each step the woman took while dropping her knee to the ground showed the well, defined tone and highly developed muscle.

  Stephanie returned to the monkey bars with colored face of circulation while masking her discomfort of being watched by halfheartedly smiling at Steve.

  It was misinterpreted as friendliness and provided the quirky artist the confidence to draw near the woman and provide a compliment. “If you don't mind me saying, you have some really, nice legs. I can tell you exercise them and keep them muscular.”

  “Why thank you!” Certainly open to receiving compliments on her legs, Stephanie warmed up to Steve, even smiled with a hint of a blush. But it was soon replaced with angst as the strange man quickly knelt down to fully caress her things and legs.

  “I mean they are just gorgeous!”

  Stephanie was livid, “Whoa, whoa! You don't need to touch my legs! Do you want me to call my husband?” She grabbed her son who cried out in defiance that he wasn't done playing. Then she set him down in another area of the park where the boy continued to whine while mommy pulled out her cell phone.

  While studying the woman's legs from a distance, Steve became acutely aware of the chirping of birds surrounding the park. A single engine plane passed overhead which mesmerized the artist to the point of viewing the activities of his surroundings through a panoramic, high-definition screen. Very much confused and perturbed of the sensation, Steve was only pulled closer into the vision until he stood before the woman's bed as she slept. Being ever-so-careful not to wake the oblivious dreamer, he slowly pulled her hands onto the pillow and secured them to the bedposts with a chain of nylon tie wraps—one of the strongest ties known to man. The woman could struggle with all her might, but the nylon would be impossible to break!

  Next, a blindfold was carefully applied to her head so that it covered her eyes. With the sleeping woman now fully secured and blinded, Steve pulled back the blankets which revealed her sleepwear to be nothing more than a t-shirt and panties. It provided full access to her warm, silky thighs and legs as Steve caressed, rubbed and squeezed in all his delight. Of course this provoked startled screams as the helpless woman, unable to see, fought desperately with the only limbs she had free. But Steve had a firm lock on each thigh, kneeling in between, and maintaining them at his sides. He continued squeezing and caressing while she screamed in horror, obviously unnerved with the inability to see her attacker.

  * * *

  “Yes! He was holding my thighs! He's still here!”

  The angry voice of Stephanie pulled Steve out of his panoramic vision. What was he playing with? Ever since accepting the challenge to create the Tree Goddess painting, many unexplained sensations and visions overpowered Steve. This was the most frightening of them all, placing him in the driver's seat of some twisted crime. As his logic and bearings slowly restored, Steve was soon hit with the realization that an outside party was being contacted to handle the curious assault in the park. It was time to leave!

  And quickly he did! Steve ran at top flight to his car. But Frank's voice could be heard from some distance away, “Hey! Hey you! Where are you going? You like touchin' my wife?”

  Stephanie shouted to Steve from the park, “There he is! There's my husband!” Intuitively, Steve turned his head towards a group of houses where a shirtless, muscular man ran towards the park. Steve barely made it to his car! As the ignition turned over and the engine made the familiar, “vroom”, the furious man banged at the closed window. But he was too late; the car peeled off and the strange, quirky artist was able to assault Frank's wife without consequence.

  Chapter 19

  P
oor Mary; stricken with guilt for allowing her younger, misguided and misunderstood cousin to suddenly leave on a short note. Although family didn't seem to cast blame on her, Mary couldn't help but feel responsible for the disappearance and a possible worse reality. It was Mary, after all, who invited Kelly to come stay at the Trivelli house while becoming established in the rural town of Mapleview. And really Mary didn't mind the additional company. Kelly could have stayed as long as desired, indefinitely for that matter. Her presence provided a comfort on those many nights when Daren was out of state. And although not close in earlier years, Kelly was gradually becoming a friend to Mary. Why did she have to go away so quickly?

  On a late, brisk, September evening with October a day-or-so away; Mary stood outside while overlooking her deck with the moon rising over the Hidden Lake Forest Preserve. In the distance was the familiar call of wolves—old friends of Mary. It wasn't until after discovering Grandma Trivelli's skeletal hand in the vase, that Mary realized not one shred of hostility was ever projected onto those wolves. She should have been fearful of them and hated them. But maybe some part of Mary knew that the large beasts had never taken Grandma. Perhaps the call always served as a reminder of a truth yet to be known.

  The distant call was most likely foreign to Kelly, being that she originated from the city. Perhaps Kelly witnessed the beautiful call when leaving Hotlicks for the night. But as far as Mary was concerned, the sound was most appreciated while standing over the Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, restoring a sense of peace and renewal. She listened for a while and then retired for the evening, another night alone with Daren out of state.