The Death Mask

by Tom Raimbault

  Amber, too, noticed Michael entering the family room with his recently completed piece of art. She recognized it as being Linsey and quickly flipped off the TV. His work of Linsey was very important to Michael. Amber wouldn't allow a trashy talk show to highlight the background of Linsey's presence.

  Linsey was placed on the side table next to her photo. A candle was lit, and Michael sat down on the sofa beside Linsey. He softly announced, “Finally, Linsey is complete.” He combed his fingers through her hair. “Isn't she beautiful? She's with us, but merely sleeping.”

  Paulette looked upon the statue-head in horror. It radiated the very color of Mother's beautiful face before she had gotten ill. Father truly lost his mind. Why was he tormenting himself and her with a frightfully realistic head of Mother? It sat on the table, and just as Father said, appeared to be merely sleeping. It looked as though at any moment, Mother would open her eyes and speak.

  “It's two o'clock in the afternoon.” said Michael. “Linsey would always sit in the family room at this time of day with a cup of tea, just watching the scenery outside. If it was a nice day, she would sit outside on the deck. Amber, do you like tea?”

  “Yes, I drink it sometimes.” She looked upon the man she loved with compassion. There was something important about this moment, Amber knew it. She offered, “Would you like me to brew us some tea?”

  Michael was delighted, “Would you? Oh, during this time of year, Linsey enjoyed a cinnamon stick with her tea. Please be sure to bring one.”

  Amber left the family room for the kitchen. Ten minutes later, she returned with a tray containing a pot of hot water, four cups, four tea bags and cinnamon stick. She set the tray on the coffee table, and then she looked at Paulette. “I thought maybe you would like a cup of tea as well. We'll let it cool off. Oh, I forgot a straw.”

  Amber opened all four tea bags, set them in the cups and then poured steamy water over the bags until the cups were filled. Then one cinnamon stick was placed into a cup and handed to Michael.

  While Amber did this, Paulette noticed for the first time that Amber's long hair was styled very much like Mother's had been. And it may have been coincidence, but Amber's nurturing, compassionate behavior towards Father was suddenly alarming.

  Outside, the cold, autumn air that tossed leaves throughout the yard and gray, overcast skies suggested a day to stay indoors. The candle next to the statue-head provided a warm, peaceful environment along with what was becoming a close-bonded group of people who enjoyed tea.

  “Thanksgiving is a week away.” said Michael. “Linsey would insist on having Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years here. It was so easy to fly family out here and put them in hotels so they can join us for the elaborate celebration. We've been invited to join family this Thanksgiving, being that Linsey won't be hosting the celebration. It's so kind and thoughtful of everyone. But I think I want a small celebration this year. Amber, it would mean so much to me if you and Trista would join us for Thanksgiving dinner. Do you have any prior obligations?—family, I'm sure.”

  “I would love to join you and Paulette for Thanksgiving!” Slowly, but surely, Amber was finding her way into Michael's heart.

  Chapter Seven

  Throughout the remainder of the week and the few days prior to Thanksgiving, Paulette remained low-key with her new suspicion towards Amber. This was easy, of course, being that spoken words would not express Paulette's mood. Facial expressions could easily be masked, and anything typed on her keyboard was thought out so that no slip of the tongue would reveal something that Paulette kept to herself. She was a teenage girl, like any other, who had her silly fears that were perhaps no worse than that of an ordinary girl.

  You and I might see a man and woman who are developing a fondness towards one another and think nothing of it. This is life. But for Paulette, Amber was a strange woman who suddenly swept her way in the home, seduced Father and was beginning to take on subtle appearances of Mother. That in combination of the very, eerie presence of Mother's statue-head, and the way that Amber seemed to encourage Father's adoration of it, had Paulette very uneasy.

  Thanksgiving morning was the final straw! Amber must have had an appointment with her hairdresser the previous evening, and had her light-brown hair dyed to auburn. It certainly wasn't strawberry-red like Mother's, but the auburn color did suggest a woman who had long, red hair.

  Amber did her usual duties of washing and grooming Paulette once arriving at the Dickly castle. Throughout these moments, Paulette remained somewhat distant towards Amber, making minimal eye contact and wearing a blank expression. Amber assumed that the first holiday without her mother would be very difficult for Paulette.

  With Paulette finally dressed and her hair in need of blow-drying, Amber finally spoke words of compassion to the girl. “I know, Honey. This is the first holiday without your mother. It's going to be difficult.”

  Paulette turned her head to the computer cart, an indication that she wanted it rolled over so she could type a message into the keyboard.

  Amber did as asked.

  Paulette pecked away at the keyboard with the pencil in her mouth, “What are you doing to my father?”

  Amber looked shocked. “Honey, what do you mean?”

  “You're doing something to my father. And why does your hair look so much like my mother's?”

  Amber sighed, “Paulette, I have always worn my hair like this. I've always had straight, naturally flowing hair. It's just coincidence that your mother wore her hair the same way. If you like, I will bring in photos of myself through the years so you can see.”

  This answer wasn't good enough for Paulette. “You dyed your hair red.”

  Amber was quick to respond, “It's auburn, and I always like to have it dyed this color for the holidays. Alright, you know, is that what you're worried about; I'm making moves on your father by trying to remind him of your mother? Let me tell you, I am not your mother. And if your father was attracted to me, I would hope it was because he liked me for who I am.”

  It was all the proof Paulette needed. Amber admitted it at that very moment. She was hoping that Michael was attracted to her.

  Amber sighed, “Honey, I'm sorry. I just realized I am not being empathetic to your situation. I don't know if your father likes me that way. All I know is that he invited Trista and me to celebrate the holiday with you and him. It meant a lot to me. If you don't want me to join you, just let me know. I'll leave once dinner is ready.”

  Having Amber and Trista join the holiday dinner meant so much to Father. Paulette knew this, and wouldn't dare ask Amber to leave. Aside from that, Paulette didn't mind Amber's presence. She just needed her concerns to be known.

  There's a moment in a young person's life when he or she directly approaches an older person with a concern, hoping for resolution or reassurance that a concern isn't true. Shortly after this attempt, it is sometimes learned that nothing comes out of the experience. Words are exchanged, and the younger person is made to feel as though wrongful conclusions had been assumed. And then business goes on as usual. It's a small moment in life when we learn that not everyone is willing to open their hearts truthfully. We learn that most people “dance around an issue”.

  It was almost as if Amber and Father would have greeted one another in the kitchen with a good morning kiss. They remained some distance from one another but their long-full intention played out in some other world that, although was invisible, was clearly seen between themselves and Paulette.

  Amber was so wifely and motherly as she prepared breakfast for the day. She brought with a special blend of pumpkin spice coffee to be brewed. She baked cinnamon rolls, made a huge omelet and sausage patties. She was just as any wife and mother who prepares breakfast on a holiday morning. Lunch would probably be skipped for the day to make room for Thanksgiving feast. It was best that the family eat a hearty breakfast.

  At some point, Michael complimented Amber. “You know, I really like your hair. It looks so nice, red
.”

  “Why thank you! I'm glad you like it.”

  Being that it was Thanksgiving, Michael was sure to take the weekend off from overseeing the business. Throughout the morning and afternoon, he and Amber enjoyed one another's company while cooking those items for Thanksgiving dinner. They laughed together, told brief stories of one another's lives; overall acted like a couple who were falling in love. At some point, Paulette took notice of how happy Father was. Perhaps she was being unfair. Perhaps Amber was the best thing that could have happened to him since Mother died.

  And then Amber did the unthinkable. In the heat of the kitchen amidst the smell of turkey, candied yams and pumpkin pie; she set the table for five people. Three place settings were certainly needed for Father, Paulette and Amber. A fourth place setting with a height chair would have been needed for little Trista. Who was the fifth place setting for? Paulette was afraid to find out.

  As Father stood, looking out through the family room window, Amber approached and put her hand on his shoulder. “Michael, why don't you have Linsey join us? It's only right.”

  “Really; would you mind?”

  “Of course not. See, I have a place setting for her.”

  Clearly out of his mind, Father was ecstatic with Amber's offer. “Oh Amber, thank you so much. You don't know how much this means to me.” He ran up the flight of stairs and into his bedroom. Moments later, he returned with the realistic statue-head of his late wife, Linsey. “There you go, Linsey. You're still with us, and certainly part of Thanksgiving dinner.” He pushed her plate forward, and gently set Linsey down on the table so that her head faced the table as if anyone else who sat down for dinner.

  Amber soon brought a candle to the table to be lit and set next to Linsey.

  Linsey often felt that Pinot Grigio went well with Thanksgiving turkey. Of course Michael went into the wine cellar for two bottles and returned. “As you like; Pinot Grigio!” Michael poured a glass for Linsey in addition to three others for himself, Amber and Paulette.

  And so as Paulette was wheeled to the table, it was necessary to take sight of the most disturbingly real replica of Mother, who faced everyone at the table. She looked to be merely sleeping with her eyes that could have opened at any second.

  Father led the blessing. “It's been a very, sad couple of years for us; the saddest being the recent loss of Linsey…” Father looked at Paulette, “… your mother. But I believe we have much to be thankful for this holiday. All of us are in good health, Paulette has a friend who can take care of her throughout the day; and it feels as though we have new members of the family—Amber and little Trista. Despite our unfortunate loss, we still have much to be thankful for this year!”

  Although this was a special holiday dinner along with what was turning into a warm, fuzzy day between her and Michael; Amber hadn't put the duty aside of feeding Paulette first. Mouthfuls of turkey, cranberries and stuffing were nearly forced into Paulette's mouth; all the while the frightening replica of Mother watched intently from across the table. For so many years the family had visited church every Sunday. But there was a new god in the house, a twisted idol of the woman who had given birth and raised Paulette until her life's end. The new priestess in the house attempted to be an incarnation of the woman this idol represented. With the appearance of the statue's eyes being closed, the occasional change of lighting that was brought on by dance of the candle flames sometimes made it appear as though Mother had no eyes. During these eerie seconds, Paulette's brain would fill the gap with some missing expression that she assumed Mother would have at the moment.

  The thing glared from across the table, “Eat your Thanksgiving dinner, Paulette! That's it; eat every bite of it! Trust the priestess who leads the family into my worship!”

  Even Mother had gone mad.

  * * *

  In recent times, a portable crib had been placed in the guest room upstairs. This was used for those moments when little Trista needed some downtime or a nap. For Thanksgiving night, she and Mommy would sleep in the guest room of the Dickly castle, as Mommy was eager for more warm and friendly conversation with Michael.

  Paulette was in bed for the evening, and Trista slept soundly in her crib. Downstairs in the quiet, candlelit family room; Amber enjoyed the company of Michael and his wife, Linsey. Amber was such a joy to have around. She brought such cheer to the Dickly castle.

  Michael suggested, “You don't have to worry about driving home tonight. What do you say I go down in the cellar and get another bottle of wine?”

  “Sure…” said Amber.

  Michael left her alone with Linsey, whose face perpetually changed expressions under the flicker of candlelight. Amber didn't mind. The statue was important to Michael. The more she seemed to share his adoration, the closer Michael became to Amber.

  He returned with a bottle of Linsey's Pinot Noir and three wine glasses. Once the bottle was open, a nearly full glass was poured for Linsey. Amber was given the second glass; Michael took the third. Upon taking the first sip, he immediately spoke of where the case of Pinot Noir had been purchased from. “It was our last family trip together. I think that was my last time seeing Linsey in good health. She became sick shortly upon returning home.”

  Amber had an interesting game she liked to play in which she would think to herself of where she might have been while hearing someone's story of the past. She certainly wasn't going to probe of the exact day of the family trip, or of the moment when Linsey became ill. But from what Amber could gather, Linsey grew ill around the time that Trista's father had left her—possibly around the time when Amber set her heart on finding an older man who needed her. It always amazed Amber of how connected people were. Oh, but she wouldn't mention her shared, cosmic connection to Michael. He might not have understood the ethereal world where Amber resided.

  As the wine in their glasses neared half empty, Michael was suddenly easy with placing his arm on the top of the sofa cushion where Amber sat. Being in this position, he began to softly comb his fingers through her long, auburn hair.

  Amber asked, “So where did you and Linsey first meet?”

  “At a party when I was in my early twenties. My buddy encouraged me to go, but I wanted to stay home. My girlfriend at the time had broken up with me. I wasn't in the mood to go out. Had I not allowed my buddy to convince me, I probably would have never met my future wife.”

  Had the room not been dimly-lit, Michael would have seen Amber suddenly blush while she said, “Well your girlfriend at the time wasn't too smart. I would have never broken up with you.”

  At that, Michael's face drew near to Amber's. Then he kissed her. The kisses gave her goose bumps and butterflies that took off in every direction. Soon, Michael took her glass and set it on the coffee table next to his. More kisses were given, this time building in intensity. Before you know it, the two lay on the sofa, making out for quite some time. How long do those who fall in love make out for the first time? Love doesn't understand time. Hours might feel like minutes as both desire more and more kisses.

  With her long, auburn-dyed hair; the young woman who lay beside and face-to-face with Michael was nearly Linsey in the flesh. How Michael remembered and missed his Linsey of decades ago. In those days, the sadness in their lives was so far away. The young lovers were so carefree, only living according to the time dictated by love. Every deep and passionate kiss exchanged with Amber returned Michael to those days with Linsey. Amber was wonderful and someone who Michael needed more of.

  Sometimes he would pull away for brief glance of the young woman. It was Linsey! Her face and expressions of love were the same.

  Amber smiled, “What's happening with us? Where are we going with this relationship?”

  As Michael recalled, Linsey had asked similar things upon their first time of making out.

  Chapter Eight

  Waking up later than usual, Amber slept in the guest bedroom of the Dickly castle. It was Black Friday, and an overflow of duties was suddenly
apparent to Amber. Little Trista jumped up and down in the portable crib, expecting to have the previous night's diaper changed and to have a bonding moment with Mommy while she lay on her lap, drinking a bottle. In addition to this, Paulette was surely awake in her room and expecting to start the day. It was nearly eight o'clock in the morning. Every other morning, Amber was sure to be there by seven o'clock. Hopefully Paulette would understand.

  After a quick change of Trista's diaper, Amber walked into Paulette's bedroom with Trista toddling behind. Paulette was not happy! She wore a bitter frown that asked, “Where have you been?” Like most people, Paulette needed to use the bathroom. Having to wait was unnecessary torture.

  Amber was apologetic, “Oh, I'm so sorry, Honey. Let me get you into the bathroom!”

  But there was further reason for Paulette's outrage as Amber wore a pair of Mother's pajamas! How dare she stay the night to be up late with Father, then to wear Mother's pajamas? If Paulette had been able to mobilize herself, she would have surely clawed Amber to shreds. The deepening bitterness on her face provided this realization to Amber.

  Amber was in no mood for the teenage girl's attitude. Trista began to whine for her bottle, and Paulette needed to be cleaned and groomed for the day. In addition, breakfast was to be made. It was a busy morning, indeed.

  This was a morning when Trista would have to lay on Paulette's bed, propped up on a pillow to drink a bottle. Mommy needed to care for Paulette.

  As for Amber, the fantasies of hauling off and striking Paulette with a sharp smack to her face played a couple times in her mind. Perhaps it wouldn't have been such a bad idea to fill the tub with more water than usual, and let Paulette slip under for a couple seconds. Maybe that would have cooled things down.

  Instead, Amber kept her cool and handled Paulette the way a grown woman should. Amber knew what the problem was. She wore Linsey's pajamas that covered her own naked breasts. She spent the night and experienced some romance with the man she loved, who just so happened to be Paulette's father. Tired of being criticized for her hair and for seducing the man she loved, Amber voiced her confrontation in one simple phrase. “So what's up?”