Spirits In the Trees

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Spirits In the Trees Page 8

by Morgan Hannah MacDonald


  Out of breath, gripping tightly to the book in her hands, she took a bite of her sandwich and began to read.

  September 12, 1956

  I’m so excited! Ray and I have just arrived home from our honeymoon in Canada. It was so wonderful! It’s the first time I’ve ever been anywhere in my life, let alone a foreign country!

  I miss momma and papa so much. I know Mary was sad when I left, but now I’m an old married lady at sixteen! I plan on being the best wife that ever lived.

  Ray and I are staying with his parents while our house is being built. I simply can’t wait to have my own home and start a family. It’s quite beautiful here. I can’t believe we live on an island! Mary will be pea green with envy when she visits.

  Mr. Heller is very nice, but I don’t think Mrs. Heller likes me very much. She doesn’t smile or speak to me, just stares. Ray says she just needs to get to know me. I hope he’s right. I have to go now and write to my family, I need to tell them all the good news!

  Until next time,

  Mrs. Raymond Heller!

  Maddy closed the book. She wondered what had happened to her aunt between this page and the ones she’d read earlier this afternoon.

  The poor girl never got her own home, or the family she’d dreamed of. Maddy struggled with herself desperately wanting to read more, but the packing wouldn’t get done on its own. So she pushed the book aside and went back to work.

  It was nearly midnight before she crawled into bed, exhausted. She eyed her freshly cleaned environment. She’d thrown out all the old toiletries, packed the personal effects, including the numerous religious artifacts, cleaned the bathroom, and polished all the wood in the bedroom before putting her things away.

  Now it was her brush sitting on the vanity. The closet held only her dresses and shoes. She had stored her suitcases on the shelf in the closet and the dresser held the rest of her clothes. She was feeling quite content.

  After dropping each garbage bag over the banister, she’d dragged them out onto the porch. Someone would be by to pick them up tomorrow. Even after the hot shower, her body ached.

  She’d moved a lamp in from another room, set it up on the nightstand and sat expectantly with a journal in her lap. Although she was having a hard time keeping her eyes open, she was anxious to read more about her aunt’s previous life. What on earth made her feel she needed to escape?

  Maddy skimmed the journal. At first, young Madeline was going on about all things bright and new, then halfway through her tone changed.

  March 20, 1957

  We’ve been here six months now and they still have not started on our house. Ray keeps telling me I must be patient, but I can’t stand the idea of living here another day. Mrs. Heller orders me about like a scullery maid! Ray says she’s just trying to teach me how to be a good wife, but he’s not here. He has no idea how cruel she is to me.

  He leaves me here for days on end, while he goes to the mainland on his business trips. He says it’s hard selling pulp and paper in this economy. He says he’s forced to go further and further away from home in search of new customers.

  Last night I awoke to shouting, so I crouched on the floor and peered through the banister at the top of the stairs and listened. It was Mr. Heller, he sounded inebriated. Never would I have thought him to be the type of man to raise spirits to his lips. It sounded as if he were striking Mrs. Heller, she screamed and cried. I couldn’t believe my ears!

  I was so frightened.

  I couldn’t make out the conversation, but I heard my name mentioned a time or two. Suddenly, the yelling stopped. The only sound was Mrs. Heller’s sobs. Without warning, I saw Mr. Heller below me, I scrambled backwards in case he looked up. I needn’t have worried, he stomped out the front door and slammed it behind him.

  I sat at the top of the landing listening to her cries of despair. I heard her footsteps heading toward the stairs, so I hurried back to my room, silently closing the door as I went. I sat crouched in my bed all night without sleeping, I feared he would return and it would start all over again.

  Maddy quickly turned to the last page of the volume and read.

  I think Ray knows, he hasn’t touched me since—

  “Knows what?” Frantically, she skimmed back through the pages.

  I’m so frightened I can’t sleep.

  “Frightened of what?” She skipped more pages in search of what Madeline was talking about. With her index finger sliding over paragraphs, she read brief passages until she came to what she thought might be the beginning.

  I’m so ashamed, I want to die. I don’t know if I dare recant the horrible incident, even in these pages. For writing it down somehow makes it too real. I’d rather think of it as just a nightmare, maybe then I could block it out of my memory forever.

  But even as I write these words, I know that I will never forget.

  Maddy heard something in the front of the house. Silently, she slipped from the bed to investigate. She stood in the hallway, listening. It sounded as if it were coming from the room across the hall. She stepped lightly to the door and slowly turned the knob. She flicked on the light and scanned the sewing room.

  It was empty.

  She sighed with relief.

  Then she heard it again, four sharp raps on the glass. She whipped her head toward the second-story window as chills raced down her spine. The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. She half expected to see someone hanging there, right outside, trying to get in. The knocking was so loud; she wondered why the glass didn’t crack.

  She stared at the window, nothing was there. She searched her mind for a reasonable explanation. Maybe it was a branch from a tree blowing in the wind. But she knew the moment she’d finished the thought that a tree could not tap an even staccato rhythm with such force.

  Maddy turned out the light and crept up to the window. She searched the yard below to see if there were any kids around. Maybe they were throwing rocks to get her attention? She saw no such thing.

  Suddenly the knocking began again. She screamed and watched in horror as the window vibrated with each heavy blow. Before she could think, she was running toward her room. She slammed the door behind her.

  She jumped onto the bed, walked across the top to the other side before slipping under the covers. She stared nervously at the door, nothing happened. Her heart was racing. She wondered how much more of this she could take. If not for her grandmother, she would leave right now.

  She decided it was time to rethink the situation. How much work was really necessary before putting this house on the market? She would move into town tomorrow, come back only in the daytime to work. At least then maybe she could get a decent night’s sleep.

  Slipping a bookmark into the journal, she closed the book. She’d had enough excitement for one evening. Covers pulled to her chin, she lay on her side staring at the door, shivering. Sometime during the night, slumber came for her, but it was not sweet.

  Dark. It was so very dark, the clouds had completely swallowed the moon. She ran as fast as she could down the deserted beach, but the sand was unforgiving. The harder she pumped, the slower her steps, as if her feet were being swallowed by quicksand.

  Her heart caught in her throat, she choked.

  It was well after midnight; still, she couldn’t help herself from searching the shoreline for a house, any house, that had a light on. Unfortunately the homes on this side of the island were usually used for vacations.

  She cried out for help, praying someone would hear, praying a light would appear. She didn’t dare risk diverting from her path only to find the cottage locked, empty.

  The ground behind her seemed to quake, but try as she might, she couldn’t make headway. She could now hear the man’s labored breathing.

  He was close.

  As she risked a glance over her shoulder, a bolt of lightning lit up the sky.

  He was tall; his long strides seemed to make up at least two of hers. She spied a copse of trees ahead an
d veered toward them. Maybe she could lose him there. That hope gave her a second wind and her adrenaline kicked into overdrive.

  She was just about to the tree line when she slipped and cried out. She risked a glance, he was closing in. She scrambled up and ran with all her might.

  Her eyes burned, became unfocused. Hair damp with sweat fell like a curtain, obscuring her view. She swept the veil from her face without breaking stride.

  Just when she’d gained a little distance, her foot caught on something and she found the earth rushing up to meet her. Landing face first, she felt a snap. Excruciating pain rocketed up her leg, she cried out in agony. A moment later he was upon her.

  Bent at the waist, his hands rested on his knees while he attempted to catch his breath. Panting herself, she watched in nervous anticipation, hoping against hope he would have a heart attack. He wasn’t exactly fat, just big. Well over six feet. Staring at the top of the man’s head, she didn’t think she knew him. He looked up and that changed.

  It was him, the man from the bonfire, the man who had been watching her all night.

  His eyes locked onto hers. Her body trembled, fear seized her in its vice-like grip. She stared into a pair of soulless eyes.

  Her scream filled the night.

  Immediately, the man dropped to his knees, his enormous hand enveloped her mouth swallowing the sound. The acrid stench of cigarettes and alcohol accosted her.

  Frantic, she tried to push him away, her nails connected with flesh. She heard a grunt, then her face exploded with pain. While trying to shake off the effects of his fist, a cloth was shoved into her mouth.

  The man stood, exposed himself to her as his pants dropped to his ankles. Her eyes widened. A whimper slipped out and she scrambled backward like a crab in a feeble attempt to escape.

  Her leg was broken, trying to run at this point was moot.

  His heavy body fell on top of her, he anchored her hands above her head. Her eyes clenched in agony, she screamed her throat raw.

  His menacing laugh echoed through the trees.

  Her eyes shot open.

  His free hand slid down the length of her body, under the hem of her dress. Large fingers clasped her panties, ripped them off and held them to his nose.

  She pleaded, but heard only a garbled mess through the gag. The man looked at her with an expression of surprise, as if he’d forgotten she was there. He pocketed her underwear, resumed his task.

  As he drew her dress up to her waist, he raised up on his haunches to ease the garment higher. Cool air replaced the heat from his body. At the first touch of freedom she bucked, kicked wildly. Instantly his weight was back, stifling her movements.

  A groan escaped, her eyes clamped shut to wait out the wave of nausea that accompanied the pain. Her dress was shoved under her chin, her body exposed. Thunder and lightening warred in the sky. The vision of the monster above her was viewed as if by flickering strobe lights.

  She bucked again, pushed against him, but her slight stature was no match against a man twice her size. Exhaustion plagued her, she refused to give in. An iron fist appeared out of nowhere landing squarely on her jaw.

  Her fight abruptly came to an end.

  Coming around, she found it hard to breath, couldn’t move. A great weight lifted from her body, her eyes flew open. An enormous shadow loomed above. Terror flooded back like a tsunami and with it total recall. Was he going to kill her?

  Surprisingly, he turned and fled.

  She sobbed with relief. Yanked the wad of cloth from her mouth and exercised her jaw. Pulling down her dress gave her a bit of comfort.

  Rain dripped through the heavy foliage. Tears stained her cheeks, she hiccuped a sob. She tried to pull herself up with the aid of a nearby tree and collapsed, her leg not able to hold her weight. Her fists beat the ground as she let out an anguished cry.

  A deafening clap of thunder answered her. The deep rumble that followed shook her to the core. Then she realized the nightmare was far from over. Through the pitter-patter of rain on the leaves she could make out the sound of footsteps heading her way.

  He was coming back.

  He appeared before her carrying something. Her head tilted back, her eyes followed his outstretched hands. Realization dawned, a giant boulder was heading her way. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

  Maddy bolted up in bed, out of breath, drenched in sweat.

  She splashed her face several times with cold water, gripped the edge of the sink, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was ashen, her eyes carried a pair of dark matching luggage. Her mind was made up, she would not be spending another night in this house.

  After drying her face and hands, she decided it was time to get up, it was nearly dawn. Even if she were able to fall back to sleep, the thought of the nightmare returning was enough of a deterrent to stay awake.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Maddy sat facing the water at the picnic table in the backyard while she ate her breakfast, coffee and journal nearby. The sky overhead was clear, but the horizon had filled with threatening black clouds. The temperature was cool, the woods were quiet.

  A storm was on its way.

  After a sip of coffee, she pulled her sweater tighter and opened the journal. Her eyes scanned the page for where she’d left off. Soon she was gripped by young Madeline’s words.

  Last night I was awoken by the squeak of my bedroom door. I rolled over and spied Mr. Heller sneaking into my room. I sat up quickly and turned on the light. He wore a strange expression. His finger pressed to his lips as if to shush me. Something told me I’d better comply.

  I waited until he came closer before I dare speak. He satnext to me on the bed, it was then that I smelled the liquor on his breath. He stroked my hair, called me beautiful. Slowly I pulled the covers up, clutched them tight.

  He told me Mrs. Heller had locked him out of their room, he wanted to stay with me. I told him that wouldn’t be appropriate. He laughed. The sound so evil I thought him possessed. This could not be the same man who had welcomed me into the bosom of his family.

  The same man who had protected me from his wife’s sharp tongue, something my own husband failed to do. No, not the man I have come to love almost as much as my own father. That was not the man who looked down at me now with the devil in his eye.

  Without warning the sheets were ripped from my grasp. I let out a scream! Instantly his hand covered both nose and mouth. I couldn’t breathe; my eyes must have been wide as saucers. Before long my lungs burned. I began to kick, I couldn’t help myself.

  Hand held firmly to my face, he whispered in my ear. He told me that if his wife came in, he would have to kill her. Then asked if I wanted that on my conscience? After I shook my head, he removed his hand.

  I gasped for air. He looked me in the eye as his hand moved down, came to rest on my breast. He laughed, said my heart was beating faster than a rabbit’s. Gripped in terror I started to struggle; he slapped me hard across the face.

  Then he stood, I thought he might leave. Instead, he walked down to the end of the bed, grabbed my ankles and yanked hard. My body slid down until my feet came to rest at the end of the bed. The pain was strong, but I bit my tongue. I dare not cry out.

  Looking up, I knew I was no match for this giant of a man. His hands alone were the size of my head. He grinned wickedly as he grabbed the front of my gown and tore it right down the middle.

  I tried to pull the sides back together. Another hard slap, a whimper escaped. He didn’t seem to notice. His hand pulled off my panties and tossed them aside. I was now completely naked.

  Tears stained my cheeks. His eyes slithered down my body like a snake. His large fingers played with my nipple, I watched in horror as it responded to his touch. I reasoned it was cold in the room, my body was exposed.

  All but salivating, he eased out of his pants. He looked up as if to gauge my reaction. His enormous manhood sprang loose from its confines. My expression must have betrayed m
e, for he laughed again. The sound was sinister. Chills shot up my spine.

  As he climbed onto the bed, he tried to pry my legs open, I held tight. Anger crossed his face. His knee flew up between my legs, hit my privates hard. I yelped. He shot me a menacing look. I quieted immediately.

  Instantly, I felt ill. I thought I might vomit. Abruptly, he threw a pillow over my face. Warned me not to make a sound. Unable to see, the first thrust took me by surprise. I held the pillow tight as I bit down hard to stifle my screams. The pain so horrific, I thought he would split me in two.

  I must have passed out. Next thing I knew it was morning. I was alone. My womanhood ached, there was blood on the sheets. I wrapped my broken body in the bed covers, rolled up in a ball and sobbed. Please, God, let me go home.

  As she closed the book, Maddy noticed that she too had tears in her eyes. Stunned, she took a deep breath and gazed out at the water. Large rain drops began hitting the surface, then her. She snatched everything up and headed for the house. She needed to shake this feeling of dread.

  She needed to take a drive.

  An hour later she found herself in front of the hardware store. The rain had stopped. As she walked in the door, she heard the peal of the bells.

  “How ya doin', Maddy?” Lanny asked cheerfully.

  He was helping a customer, but greeted her just the same.

  “Great, Lanny, and you?”

  “Can’t complain. Nobody would listen if I did anyway.” He laughed. “So, what’chya lookin’ for today?”

  “I need some paint and supplies.”

  “I’m a little tied up at the moment, but my sister’s in the back.” He turned his head and yelled, “Ang, get out here. There’s a customer!”

  “Thanks, Lanny,” she said, feeling better already.

  She didn’t have long to wait before a tall striking woman appeared from the back of the store. Maddy swore she had to be around six-feet and thin as a bean pole. Her short cropped hair stuck up on top. The color was platinum blonde, but the tips were dyed a bright orange. She wore cut-off jeans and a coral and white striped crop-top that flattered her flat stomach. On her feet she wore white Converse high-top tennis shoes.

 

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