“No, no, no” she said repeatedly. “This ain’t real, this can’t be real.” My father began to walk over to her, but she started screaming, “No, Sam, get away, this ain’t real”
He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her with all his might. When she didn’t stop screaming, he did something he had never done in all their years of marriage. He slapped her square across the face. She collapsed to the floor, sobbing. He knelt down, pulling her into his arms and started rocking her gently.
“It’s real, Ma. It’s real. But now we have to take care of her, and I can’t do it without you.” My mother nodded, and tried her best to compose herself. My father helped her to her feet, and brought her to my side.
Sam Jr. sat by the table and wept, as my mother took me up in her arms. She held me, rocking me back and forth. “I’m so sorry, child. I’m here now. You’re gonna be fine.” My father and Sam Jr. just looked at each other, knowing I was not going to be fine. They knew she needed more than they could give her, so my father turned to Sam Jr. and told him to go on down and get Mrs. Miller, and tell James—my other brother—to fetch Doc Taylor.
Sam was off like lightning. My father tried to pull my mother away from me, but she wouldn’t let go, so instead he held us both and cried. When Mrs. Miller showed up, she took over without saying a word. She gathered water, rags, and some soap to clean my body. She went over to my father and said, “Sam, take Myrtle out and I’ll care for Renee.” Ma shot her a look that most people never saw from a woman like my mother.
“You keep your hands off my baby,” she yelled.
Once again, my father tried to pull my mother away from my body.
“Come on, Ma, she’s only trying to help.”
“I’ll do it,” she said adamantly. “I gave birth to her, and I can damn well get her cleaned up myself.”
Mrs. Miller came around the table and gently took my mother in her arms.
“Let me help you, Myrtle. You’ve been here for me for so many years. Please let me be here for you now.”
“Why would God take my baby, what did she ever do? She’s a good girl.” Then, after a short pause, she said softly, “She was...”
My father went outside as the two crying women held each other. After a few moments, they undressed my body, and together they did what was necessary in the situation. When they were finished, my mother went upstairs to her old wooden chest and pulled out a white gown. She held it close, and said with tears streaming down her face, “It was supposed to be me wearing this when I died, not one of my babies.” After a few minutes, she made her way back downstairs, and she and Mrs. Miller finished getting me dressed and fixed my hair. My mother sat down in the chair closest to my head, and lovingly stroked my hair. Pa was sitting on the porch smoking his pipe when Mrs. Miller came to the door.
“Sam, we’re finished,” she said, but he didn’t respond. “Sam?”
“Sorry, I didn’t hear ya come out,” he said, discreetly trying to wipe the tears from under his eyes.
“I’m sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know that Myrtle and I are done.”
“Oh. Okay, thanks Liella.” With that, he got up and walked to the barn.
Soon after, Sam Jr. and James showed up with Doc Taylor. The three could hear hammering coming from the barn, but Sam Jr. was the only one that knew for sure what my father was busy building my coffin. Sam Jr. went into the barn, and immediately began to help. The doctor, still a little shaky after the conversation between himself and my father that had occurred yesterday, decided to go straight to the house. James ran up the steps to the back door, and threw it open. When he saw my corpse lying on the table, he collapsed into the door frame and broke down, sobbing heavily.
Upon seeing my body, Doc Taylor took off his hat and went back out to the barn. For a moment, he contemplated climbing back into his Model-T and leaving. After the nervous anticipation of facing a man whose daughter he couldn't save, it took ten minutes of cringing outside the barn door before slapping his hat against his leg and walking inside.
“Mr. Crocker, I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” he said sympathetically, standing in the barn entrance.
“I need you to check on Myrtle,” he replied without even looking up. “Give her something for her nerves.”
He continued pounding away at the partially built casket. The doctor knew not to push his luck, so with a polite nod of the head, he exited toward the house to do as my father had instructed.
Chapter 4
In those days, when someone passed on, all of their kin, neighbors, and most of the townsfolk brought food to the family of the deceased. So, needless to say, many people attended the viewing. The women took care of any needs that my mother may have had, ranging from housework to simply serving coffee and pie to those paying their respects, while the men hung back and smoked their pipes. Typically, the casket was open for the entire viewing; hence the name, but Sam Jr. and my father had replaced the top to the coffin early in the day, mostly for my mother’s sake. She never stopped staring in my direction, and though she remained silent, her tears stayed wet on her cheeks. Late that afternoon, all the guests filtered out so that my family could spend their last night with me. Because my family was not wealthy, they couldn’t afford to have my body embalmed, as was the case most of the time. This made it necessary to get the body into the ground as soon as possible, so my burial was scheduled early the next morning.
*****
I awoke to blackness. I couldn’t open my eyes or my mouth, and I was unable to move any part of my body. I must get out before I drown, I thought to myself. Then I took a breath through my nose and knew I wasn’t at the bottom of the lake, like I had thought. Finally I remembered and figured that I must have gotten so sick that I was too weak to move. Even my hearing seemed affected, because I could hear voices, but they all sounded muffled, like I as at the bottom of a well.
“Thank ya’ll, for coming by, Earl,” I heard my father say. “Means a lot to us.”
“Well, we all loved that girl, Sam,” a man replied. “Known her since she was running around in pigtails.”
“Seems like just yesterday she was being born,” he said solemnly. “It’s hard to believe she’s actually gone.”
I felt like I was going crazy. What is going on? I thought to myself. Who is ‘she’? The only sense that I could make out of it was maybe something happened to my baby sister, Edna. Oh God, please let her be okay, I thought in my semi foggy state. What I heard next shocked me beyond belief.
“Renee will always be in our hearts, Myrtle.” an older woman’s voice said as plain as day.
My stomach jumped into my throat. Surely, I didn’t just hear my name. About that time, my mother started wailing loudly, and the realization hit me that they were indeed talking about me, Renee Crocker, being dead.
“Mama I’m here” I screamed with all my might, yet not making a sound. “I’m alive, Mama, please don’t bury me. I’m not dead! I can hear ya. Please Mama, Please!” I tried and tried, but no matter what I did I couldn’t open my mouth to cry for help. What the hell is happening to me? I thought but I just couldn’t make sense of it. Not that it mattered. Despite what was really happening, they thought I was dead. They were at my funeral, about to put me in the ground and there was nothing I could do. I was going to be buried alive.
*****
I don’t know how much time passed, but suddenly I was back in my mind. I heard what sounded like wood cracking, and then all of a sudden I was being lifted into the air. Miraculously, my limbs seemed stronger, because I wrapped my arms around the neck of my rescuer. Prayers streamed through my head that what I had heard earlier had been a bad dream, yet in the same instance, I was thanking God that someone had figured out I wasn’t dead.
“I have you now. There is no need for worries.” I heard a familiar voice say softly. “You have nothing to fear.”
It was then that I recognized the voice. It was Martin. Suddenly, I was overrun by the memo
ry of him and me that night in the woods and panic set in. I began to struggle, but unlike the last encounter, I was strong. I kicked, scratched, and hit with all my might, all landing me hard on the ground, flat on my back. I was unsure if I had been thrown or dropped, but regardless, I was free. I still couldn’t open my eyes or mouth. As I placed my fingers on my lips, I figured out the reason. A vague memory entered my mind of when my Grandma Crocker had died. “Why they doin’ that, Pa?” I had asked, as I watched my grandmother’s eyes and mouth being glued shut. My father replied with, “That’s what they do to the dead, child.” Once again fear-stricken, I began to tear at my face, trying desperately to open my mouth and eyes. Before I knew it, I was pinned to the ground, strong arms holding me down. I felt both of my hands being held down by one of his, yet I continued to fight, kicking with all my might, trying to dig my nails into his hands, but he held strong.
A cold, wet cloth was being put on my face, cleaning my eyes. Little by little they were starting to open. My suspicion had been correct. I could now see for certain that the man with me was Martin, and for some reason, I began to calm a bit. Finished with my eyes, he began cleaning my mouth and I let him. As soon as my mouth would open enough for me to talk, I did not hesitate.
“You tried to kill me, you bastard! Now, my family thinks I am dead, and it’s all your fault.” He didn’t try to stop me, so I continued. “They was gonna bury me alive. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to us?” I paused for a breath, and then said with certainty in my voice, “Well, I can tell you one thing. When my Pa finds out what you done, he’s gonna shoot you like a rabid dog.”
“But Renee, you did die,” he replied with certainty. “To the world you once knew, you are dead, that I can assure you.”
“I am not dead, you crazy son-of-a-bitch!” I was so taken aback with what he had just said that I was nearly speechless. “I am standing right here in front of you.”
Martin stared back at me, the expression on his face too close to pity for my liking.
“I’m goin’ home,” I said. “And if you know what’s best for you, you’ll be high-tailing it out of these parts.”
Then I was up and running as fast as I could. Before I knew what had happened, I was once again flat on my back with Martin lying on top of me, my arms pinned between our bodies, and my face in his hands.
“Renee,” he began. “You must listen to me. Look about. Do things not seem different to you? Your vision, hearing, sense of smell, are they not all heightened?”
“Let-Me-Go.” I growled through clenched teeth, and then I spit in his face. “You’re a trickster, that’s all.”
“NO Renee… You are no longer a part of this world.”
“My family’s gonna find out about this. They’ll see my coffin all tore open. They’ll know I’m not dead and they’ll be hunting for me.”
“I am afraid not, my love,” he said, with sadness in his eyes. “Everything will be placed as it was. Your coffin and grave will be intact, and they will continue to believe that you are where they placed you.”
I was in shock. Why would this stranger do this to me and my family? We’re good people. We never wronged anyone.
“Do you do this a lot, rip families apart? To folks that are perfectly happy? That’s it, isn’t it? We were just too happy for you,” I cried.
“Renee, I have been watching you for many months, because I have been searching for one thing for as long as I care to remember, and it is you that I have found. I do this for no other reason than that,” Martin explained as he slowly moved his thumb across my cheek.
I lay for a moment silently. Then, with a slight smirk, I said, “You wanna know the sad part, Martin? I was really starting to like you. I’ve waited the better part of twenty six years to find the man I was meant to be with, and I really thought I had found him.”
“We have all eternity to make our love grow for one ano–” he started, but I broke in before he could finish.
“You can forget about all that now. I hate you, and no amount of time in the world would make me love you. Look what you’ve done to my family! What? Did you really think I would just fall into your arms?”
“No, of course not. One day you will understand more about my kind, and our situation, then you will see why I had to do what I have done,” he desperately tried to explain.
“You’re ‘kind’… You mean murderer? Home wrecker?”
He shook his head and slowly began to climb off of me. We both sat up, with me staring him in the eyes, waiting for him to explain. He looked down, almost as if he wished he didn’t have to.
“Look,” I said. “You started this, now tell me.”
The words had barely left my mouth when the pain in my stomach hit, doubling me over, causing me to almost throw up. Martin was by my side in seconds, rubbing my arm the way my mother would have. I tried my best to push him away.
“Don’t,” I gasped. “Don’t you ever touch me.” The pain hit harder this time, knocking me over on all fours.
“Renee, you must feed, it will ease the pain.”
“Feed?” I asked, holding my arms across my stomach. “What are you talking about?”
“We don’t live as those you once knew. We must take in blood to survive,” he explained.
“Now, I know you’re insane. I’m nothing like you… I’m going home.” I tried to walk away, but every few steps brought on more pain. “What did you give me? You slipped me something to make me sick, didn’t you? This is just another one of your tricks, isn’t it?”
“Renee, let me prove to you that what I say is true. You are my kind now, let me show you why you can never go back,” he said.
I stood there, breathing hard. What choice did I have? I couldn’t do much with the pain, even though it seemed to have eased off somewhat.
“What Martin? What in God’s name could you tell me that would keep me from wanting to be with my family? And you’d better come up with something other than ‘drinking blood’,” I said with all the sarcasm I could muster.
Martin either didn’t catch my sarcasm or didn’t care. He just continued on with his proof.
“To start off, look around. Have you ever seen so clearly under the darkness of night?”
I had noticed subtle differences, but it hadn’t dawned on me how different until he brought it to my attention. Was I imagining it, or could I actually see the shape of the leaves on the tree beside me as if they were directly in front of my face? I shrugged.
“Yeah, so what? The moon’s just brighter tonight.”
“Renee, do you see the moon?” he asked, pointedly.
“Well, no,” I replied, looking for it. “I guess not. But...”
“Second,” he held up a hand to stop me. “Do you not hear the deer across the way, foraging for food?” The deer had to be at least 100 yards away, yet I could hear it like it was right next to me. I couldn’t explain it, but he was right.
“Third,” he said. “Move your tongue across your teeth.”
He seemed to be studying my face passionately as I did as he had asked, so intensely in fact, that it was almost startling all on its own. As I ran my tongue along the sharp edge of my eye-teeth, I knew my face showed the shock that I felt, because he began to move closer to me.
“Stop,” I demanded. “Stay back! What did you do to me? What did you…?”
I was suddenly at a loss for words. I couldn’t make myself stop stroking my teeth with my tongue. They were sharp, like the fangs of a cat, and I was becoming overwhelmed by everything that was suddenly happening too fast. I was no longer looking at Martin, but at my surroundings. The night was so beautiful and so clear.
Martin seemed to be looking around at the night as well, or at least it seemed so when I glanced his way.
“Dawn approaches, and you need to feed before we take shelter from the day,” he said.
“Oh, here we go again,” I said, throwing my hands into the air. “You really meant what you said? Well, you can
count me out, that is something I will never do.”
“You are most stubborn,” he replied, frustration betraying his voice. “But I promise, if you do not, your pain will grow beyond comprehension. Then you will feed against your will, or surely die.”
At that, I laughed so loud, I think I actually saw Martin jump. “Die, you say? Well, according to you, I already did die. Besides, what do I care? My family already thinks I’m dead. I would rather die than hurt my worst enemy the way that you’ve hurt me.”
For a moment, he sat staring across the field beyond the woods we were in, not saying a word. Then reluctantly, he said, “As you wish, but we must go.”
“Go where?” I asked. “What makes you think I would go anywhere with you?”
“Whether you believe me or not,” he stared me directly in the eye, enunciating every syllable. “The sun is now your enemy, as much as it is mine, and we must find shelter before it rises. If you wish, we can continue this, shall we say, conversation, at a more appropriate time.”
“What do you mean the sun–” I managed to say before he stopped me.
“There is no time for this now. I will answer all you wish to know, but now we must go.” With that, he began walking fast-paced, with me in tow. I tried repeatedly to pull away, but every time I did, he would tighten the grip he had on my arm.
We had walked around a mile before he slowed, and I began to recognize our whereabouts: we were back at the Burkett Cemetery. Perhaps I would have been able to better prepare myself if I had kept my mind on the road, instead of focusing on how different everything seemed, from the look of the night sky to the smell of the bluebonnets we passed along the way. It was all just too much to take in. Perhaps if I had focused, I could have gotten out a question or two, perhaps. Martin approached a large old crypt in the middle of the cemetery.
“We will stay here throughout the day,” he said. “And when night falls we shall move further out and closer to our true destination.”
Living in Darkness (Bloodbreeders) Page 3