“Sarah, would you describe yourself as a creative, imaginative person?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then the house and the occurrence could have been the vehicles that allowed you to manifest your own fears. Do you see what I’m getting at?”
“You mean, my fear of the water? My fear of dying?”
“It’s possible.”
“But why would I hear someone calling for help?”
“Think about it.”
It doesn’t take long to see what he’s getting at. “Do you mean that I’m the one calling for help?”
Dr. Fulton didn’t answer. He just waited, watching me.
“So I’m calling for help in solving my own problem. Okay. But what does that have to do with a murder?”
“Do you still dream about drowning?”
I was surprised. “Why, no. I guess not.”
“When did the dreams of drowning stop?”
I had to think for a minute. “About the time we moved here.”
“Do you think your fears have taken on a new form?”
“I—I don’t think so. When I dreamed about Rosa, it was very different. Rosa was a real person. Don’t you see?”
He stood and said, “Sarah, I’d like to help you work through this problem. I’ll talk to your mother now and set up the next appointment. Is this agreeable to you?”
“Yes,” I answered, simply because I didn’t know what else to say.
Dr. Fulton talked to Mom, and she seemed less frantic and more relaxed as we left his office and began the drive home.
“He seemed like a nice, sympathetic person,” Mom said.
“He thinks it’s all in my imagination.”
Mom took her eyes off the road for only a second to glance at me sharply. “He didn’t say that.”
“But he thinks it. I can tell,” I said. “Mom, I didn’t imagine Rosa and what I saw any more than I imagined the presence that used to follow me after I nearly drowned.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Mom said quickly, “I like Dr. Fulton, and I know he’ll be able to help you.”
Mom seemed so hopeful, I didn’t want to discourage her. “I guess that means I’d better try to conquer my fear of the water,” I said. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”
“Good for you, Sarah.” Mom beamed and reached over to pat my knee.
Sooner or later I was going to have to swim again, but I could still feel the dark water smothering me, holding me, while my heart pounded against my ears and my lungs exploded with pain.
I don’t care what they believe, I thought. My fear of drowning didn’t create Rosa. She’s real, and she needs my help.
Chapter
Twelve
Tony telephoned soon after we arrived home. “What did the therapist tell you?” he asked.
I attempted to make light of it. “He thinks it’s just my imagination working overtime.”
I expected Tony to laugh or kid about it, but he didn’t. He was serious when he asked, “What did he say when you told him about Rosa?”
“He didn’t seem to think Rosa was important. He was more interested in what he thinks is my overactive imagination.”
“Will you see this doctor again?”
“Yes. Mom wants me to.”
There was a pause, then Tony asked, “When you visit a therapist, you tell him everything, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So you’ll talk about Rosa and what you saw? All the details?”
“I’ll talk about it, and he’ll help me get some meaning from it.”
“What kind of meaning?”
“Well, for starters, he told me I could be haunted—great word, isn’t it?” My laugh came out more of an embarrassed squeak. “Haunted by my own fears, that is,” I went on, “which means my fear of drowning, my fear of even going near the water. So to make everyone happy I’ll have to work on the problem. I guess I’ll start with our neighborhood swimming pool.”
“I have a better idea,” Tony said. “I know a nice little lake, close to your part of Houston. There won’t be a lot of people around to stare at you, as there would be at the pool, because the lake’s on private property. I’ll be in with you, and I’m a good swimmer. You won’t need to go in any deeper than your ankles if you don’t want to.”
“What about the owners? We can’t just sneak onto their property.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “The owners live in Dallas. This property is undeveloped land, still wooded and very pretty. A caretaker comes by now and then, but I’ve always managed to stay out of his way. There’s a dirt road into the place, and the lake is close to the road. Will you come with me?”
I didn’t want to answer. I had said I’d try, but it was a huge step to take. Sweat trickled down my backbone, and my mouth was too dry to speak.
Tony’s voice was so low and soft, it made me shiver. “I want to help you, Sarah. Won’t you let me?”
“Y-yes,” I heard myself stammer. To be with Tony? My breath came a little faster. Oh, yes!
“Good. I’ll be over in less than an hour.”
“Today? Now? No, Tony. I have to think about it.” I pressed a hand against my stomach, which was beginning to hurt.
“You’ve had months to think about it,” he said. “You want to tackle your fear of the water. Well, then, do it. Your whole life will change when you prove to yourself that you’re stronger than your fear.”
I knew he was right. Procrastination wouldn’t help. I clung to the telephone as though it were a lifeline, and managed to say, “All right. I’ll be ready when you get here.”
I put down the phone and found Mom in her bedroom, sorting through a box of old shoes and wrinkled clothes. “Why did I pack these?” she asked with a sigh. “They belong in a garage sale.”
“Mom,” I blurted out, “Tony asked me to go swimming with him. I said I would. He’ll be here in about an hour.”
Mom dropped the skirt she was refolding. Her mouth opened, and she was obviously so surprised that she couldn’t speak.
“Everyone keeps telling me if I conquer my fears, I’ll solve my problems. Tony said I should take the first step right now, without thinking about it, and I guess he’s right.”
Mom’s eyes shone. “Good for you, Sarah!” she said. “Would you like me to go to the pool with you and Tony?”
“We’re not going to the pool. It’s a little lake Tony knows about. He says it’s not far from here.”
“A lake?”
“Mom, he said it’s on private, undeveloped land, and there wouldn’t be a lot of people around. I’d like that.”
“Just you and Tony.” Mom frowned. “Is he a good swimmer? Good enough?”
“You mean, if I get into trouble again?” I tried to reassure her. “Mom, I’m not planning to go out very far into the water. In fact, just getting my feet wet will probably be enough for the first time.”
“I don’t know,” Mom said. “The pool might be a better choice.”
I dropped on my back across her bed. “You don’t know how hard it is to make myself do this. I was so scared at the whole idea of going swimming with Tony that I got sick to my stomach when he asked me. But I said I’d go, and now you don’t want me to.”
“Oh, Sarah, it’s not that I don’t want you to!” Mom hurried to say. “You can’t believe how happy I am that you’re going to try. I—I’m just not sure about Tony, that’s all. I don’t really know him. How good a swimmer is he? How reliable?”
I rolled on one side and propped my head on my elbow. “Forget it,” I said. “We’ll stay home. I hated the whole idea, anyway.”
Mom sat beside me. “I handled this all wrong. I guess I worry too much about you, Sarah. I’m too protective. I have to allow you to make your own decisions. Sometimes I just don’t know what to do.”
I took her hand and held it tightly. “You’re a good mother,” I told her. “I know how hard all of this has been on you and Dad. I haven’t wanted to give you extra problem
s, and I’m sorry about what’s been happening to me.”
For a few moments we were both silent. Then Mom jumped to her feet, tugged me to mine, and said, “Tony will get here before you’re ready. Better find your swimsuit.”
I gave her a quick hug and ran up the stairs. As I passed the open door to the guest room I glanced at the window. The coat hanger was gone, and a shiny new window lock had been installed, thanks to Dad.
The phone rang, but I let Mom answer it. In a minute she called up to me, “Sarah, it’s for you. It’s Dee Dee.”
“I don’t have time to talk to her right now,” I shouted. “Will you tell her that I’m going to the lake with Tony and that I’ll call her later?”
I pulled my bathing suit from the back of the bottom drawer, stripped, pulled it on, and critically examined myself in the mirror. I was getting out of shape. A few weeks of swimming laps again … I had to smile. That thought must have been a good sign.
I reached for a shirt and shorts to wear over the suit and grabbed a couple of thick towels from the bathroom cabinet, surprised at my excitement. I detested the whole idea of going back into the water, but I was eager to see Tony again.
The phone rang as I was coming downstairs. Mom appeared and said, “For you. This time it’s Eric.”
Making a face, I told her, “I don’t want to talk to Eric—now or ever. You can tell him that if you want to.”
“I’m not going to tell him that,” Mom said. “I’ll just tell him you’re unable to come to the phone right now.”
When she returned, I asked, “Did Eric say what he wanted?”
“No,” Mom answered, “but he made me promise that I’d tell you to call him as soon as possible. He sounded so urgent, he must have something important in mind.”
“That’s his problem,” I said, and glanced into the hall mirror, giving myself a smile of approval. My red shirt looked good with my dark hair. I wanted to look especially nice for Tony.
As we drove toward the lake Tony said, “I hope I satisfied your mother that I’m a good swimmer. I think she wanted to come with us.”
“I’m glad she didn’t,” I murmured, almost too shy to say it.
“I didn’t want her to come, either,” he said in his low, soft voice, which never failed to make me shiver. “I wanted the chance to be alone with you, Sarah.”
I loved the way he said my name. My heart gave a little jump. “Tony, don’t be mad at me if I don’t swim with you,” I told him. “I’m really terrified of going into the water, so I may chicken out and disappoint you—and Mom.”
He smiled. “You won’t disappoint me. I can’t speak for your mother, though. I don’t know how she thinks, but I’m pretty sure we don’t see eye to eye on everything.”
I was surprised. “What do you mean?”
“I can tell she’s counting on what your therapist said, about you being haunted by your own fears. But I don’t think I agree with her on that.”
“You don’t? Why not?”
“Because you described things with such detail—even what Rosa looked like.”
“Then you remember Rosa?” I sat up a little straighter.
“Yes, I do … now. I believe you, Sarah. I believe everything you said.”
“Thanks.” It was the only word that came out. It would have been impossible to tell Tony how happy he’d made me. If I were Dinky, I’d have curled up and purred.
We turned off the paved street onto a dirt road. Tony decreased his speed, because the rode was bumpy as it led into a canopy of trees and thick underbrush. “There are berries in there,” Tony said, “but it’s too hard to pick them, and you have to watch out for snakes.”
“Snakes? There aren’t going to be snakes where we’re going, are there?”
“No snakes. There’s a nice clearing there. I promise you. You’ll like it.”
The trees created an arch of deep shade, cutting off the intense heat of the August sun. The woods we were driving through were quiet and pretty, and Tony was right. I liked this place very much.
“Tell me more about what you’ve seen and heard,” he said.
“I told you and Mom everything.”
“But didn’t this Rosa talk to you about what happened to her? Didn’t she tell you things?”
“She showed me, instead of telling me, maybe because of our language barrier. She’s only spoken a few words, and some of those I’ve had to look up and translate because they were in Spanish.”
“Words like what?”
“Oh—ayúdame. That means ‘help.’ That was the first thing she said to me. Then she asked me, ‘Try to find it,’ and yesterday she cried out, ‘Danger!’ ”
“Yesterday? While she was showing you how her murder took place?”
“No. Afterward. It was all mixed up—the tears and the screaming and the blood, and you were there, helping me.”
The car wobbled as we dipped into a rut, and Tony fought the wheel until we landed on firmer ground. “Has Rosa appeared to you since then?” he asked.
“No.”
“But she could if you wanted her to, because you’re a psychic, aren’t you, Sarah?”
“No!” I stared at Tony, but he didn’t look at me. He kept his eyes on the narrow, curving road. “I’m not a psychic,” I insisted. “I have no control over any of this. I can only guess that somehow I still must have a link to the next world, and Rosa knows this and is using it.”
“Why?” he asks.
“I’m not sure.”
“I think I know. It’s so you can prove that Adam murdered her.”
“How can I? You—and maybe Dee Dee—are the only ones who believe that Rosa even existed. No one else believes me, so how could I possibly prove something like that?”
He stopped the car and turned to face me. “Knowing you, Sarah, I’m sure you’ll find a way.”
“Tony, I realize that you and Adam are friends, but—”
Tony didn’t answer. He climbed out of the car, crossed to my side, and opened the door. “Come on,” he said, and held out a hand.
“Where’s the lake?” I asked.
“Just beyond that grove of trees. See the path? We’ll follow it.”
He held my hand firmly and walked ahead. I stumbled along behind him. The underbrush smelled moist and sour with decaying leaves. A low branch brushed my cheek, and I ducked, calling out to Tony, “Not so fast!”
“I’m sorry,” he said, and put an arm around my shoulders, steadying me. “The path widens here. We’re almost in the clearing.”
In less than a minute we stepped into an open, shaded, sandy place with a small, crescent-shaped beach. The gray-green, glimmering water of the lake slapped against the sand with a comforting pat, and a few ducks sailed like toy boats across the water in the sunlight. It should have been a peaceful spot, but it wasn’t.
Tony moved aside, and I was aware that he was watching me carefully. I wanted to ask him why, but I suddenly began to tremble as a terrible chill shook my body. My chest hurt as though someone were squeezing it; and my heartbeat pounded so hard, for a moment I grew dizzy. I was caught in a giant web of horror, each sticky strand clinging, binding me so that I could never get away.
In terror I pressed my hands over my eyes and cried out, “Tony! What is this place? What’s wrong here?”
He scooped me up in his arms and carried me across the clearing to the beach. Gradually the bright sunlight burned away the fear.
“I—I can stand up now,” I said, stammering.
He put me on my feet, stood back, and studied me. “You had another psychic experience, didn’t you?” he asked. “What was it? What did you see?”
“Nothing,” I answered. “But I felt something. It was horrible, terrifying.”
“What was it?” He gripped my arms so tightly that I struggled to free myself.
“Let go! You’re hurting me!” Tony dropped his hands, and I rubbed my arms. “I told you, I didn’t see or hear anything. It was just a feeling.”
A tear slid down my cheek, and I wiped it away with the back of one hand. My face was damp, and I hadn’t even known I’d been crying.
“I’m sorry, Sarah,” Tony said. He sighed. “About everything.”
“Why did you bring me here?”
His expression was one of surprise and hurt. “Because I love this place. It’s special to me. I wanted to share it with you because you’re special to me too.”
I didn’t expect this answer. It confused me. “Please, let’s go home,” I begged.
“Go home?” Tony smiled reassuringly. “What happened to you shook us both up. Okay? But the feeling you had is over now, isn’t it? We don’t want it to ruin the rest of our day.”
“I don’t think I can go swimming now. I’ve lost all my courage.”
“You don’t have to swim. Just take off your shoes and the clothes you’re wearing over your bathing suit and sit at the edge of the water. You can watch me swim, and if you feel like it, you can at least wade in and get your toes wet.” He pulled off his shirt and the jeans he was wearing over his swim trunks. As I hesitated, he said, “Won’t you do it just to please me, Sarah?”
His eyes were so blue, so intense. “Just to please you,” I echoed, and kicked off my sandals. I dropped the towels and tossed my shirt and shorts on top of them.
“You’re a beautiful girl, Sarah,” Tony said, “and a good person. You’ve never known what it’s like to battle with evil. I don’t think you could even recognize it.”
“I—I don’t know what you mean.”
“It’s just as well that you never find out.”
“Tony? You’re scaring me. Are you talking about Adam?”
“Don’t try to judge Adam. You’d never be able to understand him.”
I didn’t like this conversation. Nervously I said, “Go ahead, Tony. Go swimming, and I’ll watch.”
But he moved a step closer to me until our bodies were touching, held me in his arms, and kissed me. I’d never been kissed like that. I’d never responded the way I was responding to him, with an eagerness that overwhelmed me.
The kiss went on—I didn’t want it ever to stop—while Tony lifted me into his arms and began to carry me.
Whispers from the Dead Page 12