Deed leaned forward. "Listen to me. I know you might not wanna hear this, but that might be the safest place for your fiancé right now."
"Why is that?" Trent asked.
"From what you said, I gather that they were mainly harassing her about the baby. Am I right?"
"I guess so." Trent nodded.
"They felt she was the weaker one out of you two and figured that if they harassed her long enough, she would eventually give in — even if they had totally driven her insane to do so. They know in her natural state of mind as a mother, she would never willingly hand over the child. Like I said, the baby has to be handed over to them; they cannot just come and take the baby. They knew you would be a tougher nut to crack and that's why they picked on your girlfriend instead. But I'm gonna tell you now… they will stop at nothing to claim their leader. These foot soldiers are not there to just show up and scare the living daylights out of anyone: They're here on a mission and I have a pretty, nasty hunch that things can get rather messy if that child is not handed to them."
"What I don't get is how a baby can be leader of anything," Trent wondered.
"To you, it looks and acts like a regular baby, but if those foot soldiers get access and start communicating continuously with the child, the child soon communicates back telepathically with them."
"How can that be?"
"Beats me. Like I said… your son is no ordinary child."
"So what do I do?" Trent had a grave expression on his face.
Deed sighed heavily. "I don’t know."
BONE OF MY BONE
1
The Hard Truth
"Okay, I hope you're happy now," Deed said to the ghost that stood next to him. "I told him the whole deal; now do you mind just going away for a while and giving me some extra room to breathe?"
They were both standing in the doorway watching as Trent reversed out of the yard.
"He won't listen," Peter said solemnly.
"Well, that's just too bad. Ain't it?" Deed gave him an irritated look. "Not my problem, buddy. Remember… I'm just the messenger."
He turned around only to find Peter directly in front of him. "He loves her too much," Peter said, his eyes so dull and lifeless—the looks of which made Deed want to take a drink.
"So what does that have to do with me?" Deed probed. "What're you saying anyway? He loves her too much. What? What?"
Peter's gaze was piercing. "You must warn him," he said before vanishing into thin air.
Deed shook his head. "That guy's determined to be a needle in my butt. The more you do for these blasted ghosts the more they want from you! Hell with it!" He slammed the front door.
* * *
This just can't be happening, Trent thought. That Deed Grumbley guy must be out of his mind! Yet, deep inside Trent knew better—the guy had spoken with such veracity that only a fool would choose to ignore what had stared him right in the face. As he pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, the fact that Deed basically confirmed everything Tina had been telling him all the while weighed heavily on Trent. She was in a place he knew she didn't belong and he had put her through so much emotional pain that he was certain she would never forgive him.
He picked up the single rose he had purchased at a stop light on his way there and walked into the building toward Palenski's office.
"Come right in!" Palenski was standing at his desk. "When my secretary said you were here, I knew I couldn't have you waiting as you're a very busy man, Mister Matheson."
Trent took a seat. He hadn't recalled seeing Palenski that upbeat before and wondered if his partial consumption of the cup of coffee on his desk was responsible.
"Is that for me?" Palenski asked, eyeing the rose.
"I think not," Trent replied, obviously in no mood for meaningless chatter and definitely not for jokes.
Palenski sat down. "Can I offer you some coffee or tea?"
"No thanks, Doc. I'm just here to see Tina and to find out how she's progressing."
"Well, the good news is that we might have pin-pointed the appropriate medication for her. She's responding very well to it and after a little more observation, I would be able to revert to you. If she continues to do well, she will be back home with you and your baby in short order. However, the key is to ensure that she takes her medication precisely as prescribed because we don't want any distressing episodes to arise as before. You know what I mean."
"I do," Trent affirmed.
"Well, I don't want to keep you any longer than necessary, so I'll walk with you to her room. We can chat on the way."
They headed down the corridor toward Tina's room.
"Yes, she's been doing remarkably well; I must say," Palenski noted as he walked with both hands stashed into his coat pockets.
"I'm glad to hear that," Trent replied.
"I can only imagine what an ordeal this has been for you, Mister Matheson, but the good thing is that Tina's condition can be controlled and that's what we're all working towards."
Trent nodded and said very little during the walk.
"Well, we're here," Palenski opened the door, allowing Trent to enter first. Tina was lying in bed asleep.
"Tina," Palenski went over to her.
She slowly peeled open her eyes.
"Guess who's here?"
Tina looked to her left. Trent was standing about a foot away from Palenski. She had no reaction.
"Hi, honey," Trent moved in closer as the doctor backed away. Tina only looked at him. Though not quite herself, Trent could see that she was more alert than she had been the last time he saw her.
Palenski quietly exited the room.
"I brought this for you," Trent handed Tina the rose. She cautiously accepted it and he leaned over and kissed her lips. "I love you," he said, cheek pressed gently against hers. "I'm so sorry I didn't believe you."
As Trent stood up again, Tina was staring at him. She was amazed that somehow he had finally seen the light.
"I told you," she spoke softly. "How could you not believe me?" Her face bore the invisible wound of betrayal.
"I'm sorry," Trent was shaking his head as tears slithered down his cheeks.
She reached for his hand. "Have you seen them?"
"No, but I know you told the truth."
"Is the baby…"
"He's safe."
Tina breathed a sigh of relief, then slowly sat up in bed.
"Amina?"
"Yeah. She's with him," Trent said.
"She mustn't hand him over." Tina was adamant.
"She won't do that. They won't bother her."
"How do you know?"
Trent took a seat. "I spoke with someone this morning who knows what's going on. I need you to understand that I have everything under control and no harm will come to our son. You're wrong about the house though. It's not the house that's drawing them there. No matter where we decided to move to, they would find us, so no sense running. You've got to believe that."
Tina was listening.
"I just want you to listen to the doctor and focus on getting out of here. Once he sees you're doing better, he'll discharge you, but if you keep talking about the baby being in danger, they will keep you here longer. Do you understand me?"
"Yes." She nodded.
"When you get out of here, we're going to tackle this situation together; we'll get married and everything will be fine."
Tina smiled.
"Okay." Trent kissed her hand. "I'll be back later, but remember what I said."
"I will."
They embraced tightly.
2
Decent Proposal
After submitting her customer's order at the kitchen window, Sonia hurried over to Solange. She had seen her walk in a minute earlier.
"Hey girl!" Sonia sat across from her. They gave each other a soft high-five.
"How are you doing?" Solange asked.
"I'm doing. How are things on easy street?"
"Girl, you really won't
stop. Won't you?"
"For what?" Sonia scowled. "I'm happy for you, but I really miss you."
"I miss you too. But wait… we still talk every day."
"True, but nothing beats the presence—the real, live presence, girl."
"Where's Mister Fung?" Solange asked.
"Not here. Left me in charge this time while he run errands."
"There's something I want to ask you." Solange grabbed Sonia's hands.
"Uh huh…"
"I want to know if you'd like to work with me at the bank. The pay is good." She thought she'd sweeten the pot.
"Get outta here!" Sonia pulled away.
"What's wrong?"
"I can't." Sonia shook her head in protest.
"Why not?"
"I just can't. Let's leave it at that."
"What's wrong? You're worrying me," Solange probed.
Sonia shifted slightly to the side. "I didn't encourage you to connect with your brother so that I could ultimately benefit, Liza. I did that for you."
Solange was shocked by the statement. "I know that, Sonia. Do you think I ever thought for a moment that you were only trying to help me in order to help yourself? Is that what you think?"
Sonia glanced at her, then looked away again.
Solange leaned in closer. "You are my best and only friend in this State, Sonia. When I had no family to turn to, you've been there. You are like a sister to me. I know you weren't thinking of yourself all those months you were encouraging me to connect with my brother. But do I feel compelled to help you have an easier life since you were always such a good friend to me? The answer is Yes, I do! You would have done the exact, same thing for me if the shoe was on the other foot."
Sonia faced Solange again. "I can't handle any fancy job. I barely graduated high school; I was such a goof-off."
"Well, Mister Fung left you in charge of this place and it's usually busy in here. If you weren't capable of doing anything other than taking orders and clearing tables, I doubt he would leave you in charge of his thriving business—even for a minute!" Solange rebutted.
"I don't know."
"You don't know what?"
Sonia sighed deeply. "What the heck would you want me to do up there anyway?"
"Be my assistant," Solange replied.
"Your assistant?" Sonia's eyes widened. "You're VP, girl! You want little, old me as your assistant? You sure you're not running a fever?" She leaned forward and felt her friend's forehead.
"The pay is really good."
"Wow! I wouldn't have thought so!" Sonia couldn't resist the sarcasm.
Just then, the bell rung from the kitchen and Sonia's order was called.
"Gotta go." She got up quickly.
"Promise me you'll think about it," Solange said.
Sonia smiled. "I'll do just that…think about it. We'll talk later, honey."
* * *
"He thinks he's gotten away with it," Detective Quint was sitting across the table from Sparkman at a diner near the station.
"Who?" Sparkman asked. "You've got me in the dark here."
"That Matheson guy. He thinks he can just murder all those people and keep sitting pretty like that?"
"Now let's not get ahead of ourselves," Sparkman replied. "We don't know that he's the killer. Sure… the victims were acquaintances of his, but that doesn't necessarily equate to any culpability on his part. The man could've been next in line for all we know."
Quint stirred the soda with his straw. "I still say there's no way he's not tied to the whole deal or at least knows who the killer is. Since that Darcy guy got knocked off, the serial killings suddenly stopped dead in its tracks. Matheson had everything to gain by Darcy's death. We could've gotten him for that, hands down."
"The DA doesn't think so and neither do I. To drag a man like Trent Matheson in based purely on a stack of circumstantial evidence would never hold water in this town. His family's influence goes a long way back and the DA knows that if we took a chance and tried him, and he got off—well, you know the rest…"
"Yeah. Double jeopardy," Quint returned. "Even so, I would've still taken a chance, but that's just me."
Sparkman finished the last of his sweet potato fries. "If Matheson's guilty, partner, he'll trip up sooner or later. He'll let his guard down and we'll be right there when he does."
3
Progression
"Coochie, coochie, coochie!" Amina tickled Little Foster as he smiled and giggled back. She had placed pillows all around him. "I'm going to make your bah bah now, so be good until I get back, okay?"
The baby watched as she left the room.
While warming the water, Amina hummed to an old tune she grew up hearing. She walked over to the sink and looked outside the kitchen window. A calm feeling instantly enveloped her as the sun glistened through the forest trees giving the leaves a beautiful hue.
Suddenly, the humming stopped—she thought she had heard something like a man's voice. The kettle started to whistle and she quickly shut it off.
Easing back upstairs toward the bedrooms, her heart thumped inside her chest. No one can possibly be in here, she thought. The alarm system had been activated after Mister Matheson left the house.
She finally got to the top landing and headed to the master bedroom. When she arrived at the door, to her relief, Little Foster was fine. He was playfully kicking up his feet into the air and giggling. The child seemed distracted by something in the direction of the window and Amina proceeded further into the room.
"What're you grinning about, li'l cutie?" she said, stepping within his view. The baby shifted his head a few inches past her to the right. The giggling continued.
Amina looked again in the direction of Little Foster's stare, but couldn't understand what it was that he found so amusing. At that moment, she watched as the baby suddenly dropped his legs and sat straight up in bed for the first time. She was amazed at how effortlessly he had done it and how he was balancing well without any exterior support. Foster kept looking over to the right, sucking on his thumb and giggling; Amina still had not captured his attention.
"My goodness! There's no way…" She exclaimed, sitting softly on the bed—the whole time doubting her own eyes. She just watched him for a while, allowing the reality of the matter to gradually sink in. As she leaned forward to pick him up, Foster's giggling abruptly stopped. He was now looking at her for the first time since she had entered the room. Amina immediately felt an odd sense of dread as the child's expression appeared to be one of disappointment.
She put him on her lap and found that his body didn't seem the least bit fragile as it did minutes earlier.
"This is highly unusual," she said to him. "Your daddy is not going to believe this. If you can sit like this, I must put you in your crib now until I return with your bottle."
She took him into the nursery and laid him inside the crib, then pulled the side bar all the way up. After she left, the baby sat up briskly and quietly awaited her return.
* * *
"I'm home!" Trent said, shutting the front door behind him.
Amina was waiting at the top of the stairs with Little Foster. "Sir, please come. I must show you something."
Trent hurried up the stairs behind her. "Is there something wrong, Amina?"
"No… nothing is wrong, sir." She glanced back before heading into the bedroom. She laid Foster on the bed. "Watch," Amina said to Trent as he stood inside the doorway.
The baby slowly sat up and giggled as he saw his father standing there.
"My God!" Trent advanced further into the room. He looked at Amina, then at the baby again. "This is incredible!"
Silence temporarily filled the room.
"How can he possibly do that?" He's not even two months old."
"I don't know, sir," Amina replied. "His bones are not supposed to be this strong yet."
"Hey, little guy." Trent sat with him. His recent conversation with Deed rushed back to mind. He's no ordinary child — no
t even quite like you, Deed had said. Peter said that it would grow at a rapid speed.
Trent picked up his son and immediately thought he saw something. "Is that a tooth coming through?" He asked.
Amina took a look. "My Lord! It's actually a little one protruding. How did I not notice that?" She removed her finger from the child's chin.
"Sir… I don't know what to tell you; I think you should pay the boy's pediatrician a visit as soon as possible. I can't think of anything that would explain this."
"I will take him," Trent replied. "I'll do so tomorrow morning."
"I know you have to go to work, sir. If you want, I can take him for you and then you can speak with the doctor on the telephone."
"Good idea. I'll let you know in the morning. Thanks for offering to do that, Amina."
"You are most welcome, sir." She flattened the front of her shirt with her hands. "Is there anything I can do for you before I leave today?"
"No… No. Thank you." Trent glanced her way. "Have a good evening."
Amina looked at them one last time before leaving the room.
"Oh! Hi Amina," Solange said after the front door swung open. Amina was on her way out.
"Hello, Madam. I was just leaving. Your brother is upstairs."
Solange climbed the tall staircase, then quietly called out to Trent in case the baby was asleep.
"In here!" Trent replied. He was still sitting on the bed with his son when she entered the bedroom.
"I thought I'd come by to pay my little nephew a visit," Solange smiled. "Oh, what a big guy you are!" She picked up Little Foster. "And heavy too!"
"He is. Isn't he?" Trent grinned rather nervously.
"Oh my!" What is that in there?" Solange quickly noticed the tiny tooth protruding through the baby's gums. "Did you see this?" She turned to Trent.
"Yup. Just noticed it myself. Funny thing is… Amina didn't. I had to point it out to her."
"He's really ahead of his time. Isn't he?"
"Sure is."
Right then, Trent's thoughts drifted onto the many secrets he had never shared with the people in his life—including Tina. He was starting to feel that if everything Deed Grumbley had said about the child was true, keeping the secret of his ancestry would be next to impossible. This was a troubling thought. He now had a sister whom he was certain didn't share his family traits—particularly on his father's side, so how would she or Tina ever react to the truth? Trent rubbed his forehead. He felt a headache coming on.
Immortals- The Complete Real Illusions Series Page 27