His Lovely Garden

by M. L. Bullock

  With a few bumps and false starts, I managed to guide the chair out from behind the desk. My thoughts were interrupted by a strange sound in the hallway. I heard a small child crying, but there weren’t any children at Thorn Hill. I ran through a quick checklist of possible suspects. The child sounded too young to be Dolly Jane, and she hadn’t been here for days.

  “Hello?” I called as I pushed the chair toward the door. I paused, but the heartbreaking crying continued. It was coming from the hallway. I opened the door, eased the chair back and craned my neck around the door. There was no child in the hallway.

  There was no one at all. Just the faint aroma of spicy cologne and cigarettes.

  An aroma I knew all too well.

  Chapter Two – Arnold Lee

  His head felt woozy like that time he had the flu. If he concentrated really hard, squinted his eyes and got really still, Arnold Lee could almost hear the lady singing. He couldn’t understand why he could not hear her clearly; he’d never had this problem before. Whenever the lady sang to him, her songs had always been crystal clear. He listened as hard as he could because he felt he ought to hear her, but he couldn’t.

  “Come on, son. Daddy’s got you now.” Arnold Lee’s father picked him up from the bed, and he tried to answer him. He thought he said, “Okay, Daddy,” but his lips wouldn’t move. It was like he was stuck inside his body. He could think but not speak or move or even cry…and the funny thing was, it didn’t bother him at all. Maybe he would float away like a feather or a balloon. And maybe he would float all the way up to heaven. Yeah, that would be cool because he would see his grandfather if he went to heaven. Daddy felt tense; his voice sounded broken just like that horrible day when he told Arnold Lee Grandpa had died.

  “What did you do to my son, Alice Marie?”

  “He’ll be fine, Lucas. The doctor said he might have to adjust the medication to get it right, but he’s just fine. Leave him be! I’m not letting you take him from me.”

  Arnold Lee could hear them arguing, but his father never let him go and he was glad. He liked it at his father’s house; the house used to belong to his grandfather, and there was so much to explore and memories of Grandpa in every corner. Arnold Lee loved the old silver refrigerator where he hung his artwork. And the lady sang better there too. He would hear her clearly there for sure. Arnold Lee loved his mother, but she made him feel like he was bad all the time. He couldn’t help it if he heard the special songs. His mother didn’t like most of his pictures either, especially when he drew pictures of the girl with sad eyes and now the little boy. No, she did not like seeing any of his artwork unless it was a picture of a cat or a dog or a house or something else boring.

  His parents were tussling again. “You hit me one more time, Alice Marie, and I’ll have you arrested. I mean it.”

  His mother started to cry. He wanted to say something like, “It’s okay, Mommy,” but he still couldn’t speak.

  “Go ahead and call the police, Lucas Cheever. I haven’t done anything except try to help our son. He’s hearing voices and seeing things. The doctor says he is—”

  His father tensed again and pulled Arnold Lee closer to his chest. “Don’t you say another word. There’s nothing wrong with this boy. And if you give him anything else, ever, even a vitamin, I’ll make sure you never see him again. Now, move out of my way. Our son needs to go to the hospital.”

  Me? Why am I going to the hospital? Did I break something?

  “Are you threatening me, Lucas? Threatening me with that big name of yours? Now you’re a Dufresne and you think you’re better than me.”

  Arnold Lee was outside now. It was cool outside and the stars sparkled above him, but their shine had a strange glow to them like he was seeing them from underwater. He squinted his eyes again but could not see any better. Not at all.

  “You’re not a real Dufresne. You know that, don’t you? Don’t for a minute think you’re better than me, Lucas Cheever. You’re the son of a chauffeur. A broke-down, crazy old man who—”

  His father laid him on the back seat and closed the door. His parents were still arguing but only for a few seconds. His father was in the car now, and the vehicle was moving. Or maybe it just felt that way. Arnold Lee really needed to go pee, but he couldn’t tell Daddy because his mouth wouldn’t work. He hoped he didn’t have an accident on himself, like a baby. But if he did, Daddy wouldn’t spank him. He would understand that his body didn’t work. He always understood those kinds of things.

  “Hold on, son. I’ve got you. We’re going to get you some help.”

  Again he said, “Okay, Daddy,” but no words came out. And then he closed his eyes. He felt sleepy, like he did on Christmas Eve when he tried his best to stay up all night to see Santa Claus. It never worked. He always fell asleep.

  When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in a bright room. His blanket was soft and folded neatly under his arms. This wasn’t his room. There were no baseball pennants hanging on the walls, no bookshelf full of books and trinkets and no pictures of his father and grandfather. He loved those pictures. When he wasn’t wearing his grandfather’s hat, Arnold Lee always placed it by his picture. It just felt like it belonged there. Sometimes Arnold Lee imagined Grandpa would pop his head in his room and say, “Hey! Have you seen my hat?”

  “Daddy?” he whispered as he blinked his eyes a few times. Yes, his father was here. He slept in the chair by his bed. Arnold Lee knew he was in a hospital. He had to be. He had a tube in his arm, which felt sore, and a strange machine beeped and blinked beside him. What happened? Were we in a car accident? “Daddy?”

  “Arnold Lee…there you are. Thank God! Nurse!” Was Daddy crying? “I’ve been so worried about you.”

  “What happened to me? Am I going to die?”

  “No, son. You’re not going to die. Not for a long, long time.” His father took his hand and held it tight. That sure made Arnold Lee feel better. Daddy kissed his cheek and near about smothered Arnold Lee with a strong hug. His father was so happy to see him. “You were sick, but now you’re better. All better.” Man, I must have been really sick, Arnold Lee thought as a nurse ran into the room and left just as quickly.

  “Where’s Mom? Did she come too?”

  His father hesitated but then answered, “She was here, but she’s gone home now. Reed came to see you too, but right now it’s just you and me.”

  Arnold Lee smiled even though he felt tired. “You and me, Daddy.”

  “Yep. Just you and me.” His father squeezed his hand now. “Would you like that, Arnold Lee? Would you like it to be just you and me?”

  “What do you mean?” Arnold Lee yawned and tried to think, but he needed a nap.

  “I mean would you…”

  But then Daddy’s words disappeared and his eyes felt so heavy. So sleepy. And he must have slept for a good long time because when he opened his eyes again, it was dark in the room. Daddy wasn’t there now, but he could smell his cologne and he knew he must have just left. He didn’t feel afraid, but he was hungry and he had to go pee again.

  And then he heard the lady singing as clear as a bell. Like she was on a radio nearby. Yes, he knew her voice but did not recognize this particular song.

  Oh, every time it rains,

  It rains pennies from heaven.

  Don’t you know each cloud contains

  Pennies from heaven?

  Oh, don’t sing about rain, lady. I gotta pee! He decided then and there that he would have to go to the bathroom. It was just on the other side of the room. He slid out of the bed and quickly realized that the tube in his arm was attached to the beeping machine. What was he supposed to do? “Hey! I gotta go to the bathroom,” he shouted, hoping that someone would hear him. But nobody came. If he pulled the tube out it might hurt, but he had to pee really bad. He wanted to cry, he had to go so bad. “Hey! Help me go to the bathroom.” He ripped off the tape as the lady kept singing. Her words were so clear now.

  You’ll find your
fortune

  Fallin’ all over town.

  Be sure that your umbrella is upside down.

  His legs felt wobbly, and he was embarrassed to notice that he had no pants on. Feeling desperate, he pulled the needle out of his arm and began to cry when he saw the blood. He put his hand on the tiny hole it left behind and walked to the bathroom. He repeated the words to the song as he relieved himself, trying to think about something besides his bloody wound.

  Where is Daddy?

  Arnold Lee tidied up his arm with some paper towels and wiped his tears away. Surely his father would be back soon. He would never leave Arnold Lee here by himself. Not when he had been so sick. And the music played on.

  Trade them for a package of sunshine and flowers.

  If you want the things you love,

  You must have showers.

  So when you hear it thunder,

  Don’t run under a tree.

  There’ll be pennies from heaven

  For you and me.

  “Don’t run under a tree? Got it, lady. I got it,” Arnold Lee repeated as he reached for the door. That’s when he heard shuffling in the shower. Like someone was hiding there, someone who didn’t want him to find them.

  “Daddy?”

  Arnold Lee kept the paper towel pressed to his arm for a few seconds but then tossed it away. With shaking fingers, he reached for the curtain. He didn’t really want to pull it back, but he had to. He had to take a peek. Yes, he could see shoes, small shoes peeking out from under the plastic curtain. Old shoes, though. Not cool tennis shoes, not like his shoes.

  “Hello?”

  With a sudden rush of adrenaline, Arnold Lee bravely slung the curtain back, but now the shoes were gone. Whoever was there was gone.

  But Arnold Lee knew he wasn’t alone.

  And the lady was singing up a storm.

  Chapter Three – Mike DeLuca

  I shut the back door of the van and waited for Jeffrey Becker to show up. This wasn’t the time for the kid to be late. We had a six-hour drive ahead of us, and every minute that ticked by made me more aggravated and worried for Jessica. I should have already been in Belle Fontaine. I shouldn’t have taken no for an answer the first time. Why it took Avery so long to agree to allow me in, I had no idea, but that did not sit well with me.

  I knew Avery cared about Jessica “like a little sister” according to her, but if that was the case, why not let us investigate? Maybe it was the money. I had the distinct impression that money had something to do with it. Some of those old Southern families were really wary of bad press and its effects on their pocketbooks. I didn’t want to believe that about Avery, but then again, you never truly know about people. But to bottom-line it, I wasn’t really mad at Avery, Summer or any of those money-grubbing Dufresnes.

  I was mad at myself.

  All that time I was wasting time with Megan when Jessica Chesterfield had been the one I really cared about. But Jessica was too good for me. Too kind, too pure. Way too good for a washed-up ghost hunter. That’s what I believed, and now she was gone. Well, if Jess and I had gotten together, I wouldn’t have found Tina. Things happen for a reason, I supposed, but I would always care about Jess and wanted to find her safe.

  Becker pulled up in his beater—when was he going to replace that thousand-year-old Honda? He got out with a wave, dragging his wrinkled duffel bag with him. His usual lopsided grin was absent, but he nodded and mumbled “good morning” at me. Yeah, Jessica’s absence had hit him hard too. The usually energetic, wise-cracking tech assistant appeared to have lost his bravado. I’d heard he’d had a difficult time since his firing from the show, but he deserved it. He’d been caught faking evidence, setting up digital recorders to play spooky sounds and the like. Becker would never officially work in the paranormal field again, but we weren’t working for a network this time. We were headed south for Jessica.

  Surely he wouldn’t pull a stunt like that on this investigation. Not when Jessica’s life was at stake. Yeah, I was so desperate to find her that I’d even invited Megan to join us too, but she begged off. I was kind of glad.

  Becker and I didn’t talk for a few minutes. He stowed his bag in the back of the van, slid into the passenger seat and buckled up. Then he finally asked, “What’s the game plan, Mike? I know you have one.”

  I didn’t. Not really, but I wasn’t going to admit defeat before I started; I had to exude confidence. I was the leader of this rescue mission. “She disappeared in the ballroom, so we’ll focus our attention on that area. We’ll do EVPs, set up the laser grid and use the motion detector.”

  “So, jack squat.” Okay, I wasn’t fooling him. “We don’t know what the hell we’re doing, Mike. It’s like stabbing at the darkness, at a ghost, no less.” Becker rubbed his eyes, and I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He looked bad. Why hadn’t I noticed it before? Had he been drinking? “This equipment is only going to work if she’s dead. You know that, right?”

  “Jessica ain’t dead, and she’s no ghost. Don’t say crap like that.”

  “I didn’t say she was a ghost, Mike. I’m sorry, man. I’m just… I can’t believe she’s gone—vanished into thin air, I heard. How could she just disappear like that?” I had no answers for him, and he continued, “Do you think the Dufresnes had something to do with her disappearance? I mean, they are a weird-ass family, Mike. Trust me, I dated one of them. What if Jessica found another skeleton in a wall? Or uncovered some other secret? Maybe they made her disappear.”

  “I’m going into this with an open mind. I don’t think Avery would let us in there if she’d done something to Jess. We don’t know anything yet, so let’s just keep our eyes and ears open. Anything is possible.”

  I turned onto the interstate as a lump rose in my throat. This couldn’t be the end of Jessica. It couldn’t be. After jockeying for position on the highway, I hit cruise control.

  “I had a dream about her, Mike.”

  “Who?”

  “Jessica, of course.” He pulled his hat down over his eyes. “She had on this big, poofy dress that had, like, gold lace around the bottom. She didn’t look quite the same.”

  “Tell me more,” I said. “What else do you remember?”

  “Her hair was different too. You know how she always wears it down? In this dream, it was up, like in a fancy bun twist thingy. I swear, she was talking to me, Mike, but I didn’t understand a word she said.”

  “Well, try, Beck!” I clutched the steering wheel tighter as if it would make the ride go faster. “Think!”

  He kicked his hat up and leaned forward. “I have tried, believe me, I have. She sounded like she was calling my name at first. Like she was underwater. Sounded real muffled. You think she is in the pond?”

  “No, they would have found her body in that tiny pond.” I had never been a big believer in dreams, but what else did we have to go on right now? “Did she do anything? Did you notice anything else?”

  “She waved at me like she wanted me to follow her. I heard music playing, old-fashioned ballroom music.”

  “The ballroom is where she disappeared,” I reminded him. “Okay, we know we have to investigate that room. If you think of anything else, see anything else, let me know.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Another few miles passed before he asked, “Anyone else investigating with us? Are we it? No Megan, I presume.”

  “No. Megan couldn’t get away. She has this thing she has to do.” Why was I making excuses for my ex-girlfriend? Honestly, Megan didn’t want to get involved, pure and simple. I tapped my fingers on the wheel, feeling anxious to get this drive behind us. Too bad it was such a long one.

  “Sure she does. Megan always has a thing. Mostly for herself. I’m surprised you guys made it so long.”

  I shook my head as I eased around a slow-moving vehicle. “Yeah, well, Tina and I are very happy. Megan’s ancient history.”

  He pulled his hat back down. “Good, because that woman was a cheater, my friend.”

>   “What makes you say that?” I asked suspiciously. And why would you bring this up now?

  “Nothing.” He tugged his jacket tighter around himself. “Forget I said anything. I’m going to take a nap if you don’t mind. I haven’t been sleeping too well.”

  “Fine, but I’m going to turn on the radio. I have to have something to occupy my mind and keep me awake. You always were a horrible road trip partner.”

  “Yeah, I’m horrible at a lot of things. I don’t care about the radio; play it as loud as you want. My apartment is next to a railroad. I’ve learned to sleep through anything…when I can sleep, anyway.” He leaned his seat back, determined to catch forty winks.

  I flipped on a random talk radio station and listened to the talking heads hammering out the pros and cons of an issue I cared nothing about. Like always. I hated politics, but at least it would keep me awake. Becker wasn’t the only one not sleeping. It wasn’t like I had dreams or anything, but I did see Jessica every time I closed my eyes.

  What if Becker was right? What if the Dufresnes did have something to do with Jessica’s “disappearance?” Nah, I couldn’t give credence to that idea. If it were true, why would Avery call me? Unless the left hand didn’t know what the right hand was doing. Maybe another Dufresne got rid of her, like Summer or that old bastard with the big mouth. What was his name? Danny or something.

  I tried to get into the lively discussion on the radio. Not happening. “Nope. I don’t believe any of you guys,” I muttered as I cut it off.

  “What?”

  “Sorry. Talking to myself.”

  Becker stared at me with one open eye. “O-kay. Don’t make it a habit, dude. People might think you’re losing it.”

  I decided to turn the radio back on but changed the channel. Maybe some music would soothe my mind? I hated pop music and luckily came across a jazz station. Old jazz, too.