…Rosalie was beside herself with fear and panic. She felt enormous dread encompass her soul. She didn’t know what to do or where to run. She could not go down to that cellar again to check this out! She refused to do that! She was scared out of her wits! What should she do? Who should she call? Her thoughts were all over the place. She knew Franco would be home soon. She needed to muster up enough courage to wait for him to walk through that door. She convinced herself that it won’t be long now. Rosalie was shaking with terror as she listened to the moaning and distorted chatter of multiple voices muttering amongst themselves, travelling up through the air shaft into her kitchen. She couldn’t stand it anymore. Rosalie turned the gas off and left the chicken sitting in the frying pan on the stove, while she ran and hid in the bathroom. She couldn’t hear the voices from within the tiled bathroom, so she sat on the edge of the tub in tears, waiting for Franco to come home. Although terribly frightened, Rosalie left the bathroom door unlocked so Franco could get to her easily.
…After about a half hour, which felt more like two hours to Rosalie, she faintly heard Franco calling her name. She jumped from the edge of the tub to the bathroom door, flinging it open fast and hard, without even noticing the loud banging sound it made as it crashed against the bathroom radiator. She threw herself into Franco’s arms, causing him to drop the loaf of Italian bread he had brought home for dinner. Franco was awestruck from Rosalie’s behavior. He just couldn’t grasp what was happening. Rosalie caught him off guard as he bent down to pick up the loaf of bread with one hand while holding Rosalie with the other. He flung the loaf of bread across the kitchen table and sat Rosalie down on the sofa. He just stood silent, staring into her eyes, waiting for an explanation. All he could see was utter fear in Rosalie’s eyes. Rosalie just couldn’t speak right away. She sat on the sofa as still as a statue. Franco gently grabbed her shoulders and asked, “What’s going on Rosalie? I sure didn’t expect this from you when I walked through the door.” He patiently waited for Rosalie’s response.
After a few more minutes of dead silence, Rosalie blurted out, “The voices Franco! I heard the voices again! First the moaning…then that horrible, horrible voice that calls my name, summoned me to the cellar again. ..Then I heard all of the muffled voices in unison, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying…Oh stop looking at me like that Franco! The voices were coming up through the air shaft in the kitchen!”
With that, Franco walked over to the air shaft and put his ear to the closed panel, listening intently; but all he could hear was the sound of silence. He turned to Rosalie and said, “I don’t hear a damn thing coming up through the air shaft Rosalie.” Rosalie just looked over at Franco, sadly sensing his irritability and loss of patience with her. For the first time ever, she yearned to hear the awful moaning and eerie voices right at this moment. Then she would know once and for all whether or not Franco heard them too. She needed to know if she was going off the deep end. This was killing her. Unfortunately, she did not hear the voices while Franco was there. He banged the paneled air shaft with his fist, then turned to Rosalie and said, “Rosalie, we have to get to the bottom of this. I don’t know what to say to you anymore. I think it’s time you go back to your psychiatrist, Dr. Whitman, to rule things out. Let him figure out what’s going on with you because I’m not in a position to do that. This is destroying us!”
Rosalie knew, at this point, that Franco was getting disgusted with the situation and she couldn’t blame him for that. Of course he would start questioning her mental state. What else was there left to say. There is no other explanation. She is the only one hearing the voices. Yet she told Franco that she just couldn’t bring herself to go back to her psychiatrist. He would only medicate her. She’d be walking around like a zombie and she refused to do that to herself. Franco nodded in agreement somewhat, but the look on his face spoke a thousand words. Rosalie wondered if perhaps his slight nod of agreement was simply because he couldn’t deal with the thought of Rosalie walking around on medication and possibly still hearing voices. That would be unbearable. Either way, this was a no-win situation for Rosalie, for Franco and for their relationship.
Rosalie slowly walked over to the stove to finish making the chicken cacciatore for Franco. Franco joined her at the stove, took a whiff from the frying pan, and kissed Rosalie’s forehead, to let her know he appreciated her making his favorite dish. Rosalie, with tears in her eyes, looked up at Franco and just shook her head back and forth in disbelief at all that is going on with her. Franco took a seat at the kitchen table and thoughtfully said to Rosalie that he understands how scared she is, but she has to realize that they need to address this issue before it goes too far. He told Rosalie he has not once heard the voices or the moaning she is telling him about and begged her to understand his side of this, especially if the shoe was on the other foot and he was the one hearing voices. Rosalie continued to sadly shake her head back and forth with no comforting words or explanation for Franco. She was baffled by all of this herself. Franco went on to suggest that Rosalie speak to Maria as soon as Maria gets back from Europe to get her take on things. He felt that Maria, being Rosalie’s best friend, might be able to push Rosalie into getting the help that she may need. Rosalie felt a little threatened by Franco’s suggestion, since Franco already told Rosalie that Maria had phoned him earlier before she left for Europe about Rosalie’s well-being. Although Franco and Maria mean well, Rosalie suddenly felt as if she was being backed into a corner by her boyfriend and her best friend. She felt so alone. However, she agreed to discuss this further with Maria and perhaps come to a mutual agreement on what the next step should be. Franco was content with that and told Rosalie that he loved her so very much and wanted to do what was best for her. He wanted her to be well. Rosalie responded, “You want me to be well? Am I sick Franco?” Franco grabbed Rosalie’s hand in his and said, “No, you’re not sick Rosalie. I won’t use that word. You’re going through something that I can’t explain and I think some professional help will do you good. I can’t give you that help Rosalie.” Rosalie removed her hand from Franco’s grip and replied, “Okay Franco, fair enough. I know what I heard though, and those voices are real, but I’ll talk to Maria about things. Okay? – and just for the record, I visited with Millie today as you know, and she doesn’t think I’m going crazy at all. She’s wondering why I only hear the voices in this house when no one else is here. I don’t hear them at any other time or in any other place. Millie said if I was going crazy I’d be hearing voices all the time, Franco.” Rosalie turned back to the stove and continued to cook dinner while Franco sat silently for awhile. He then said, “Millie is a wise woman Rosalie…I’m going to take a shower.” So Franco sullenly turned away and walked off into the bathroom to shower. Before he entered the bathroom, he walked back over to Rosalie and gave her a reassuring kiss on the forehead and a pinch on the cheek. Rosalie felt a little better - very little for the time being, knowing that she now must take things one step at a time and tread very carefully in order to get to the bottom of what is really going on with her. She is terrified, confused and pretty much alone in this. This is happening to her and no one else can really understand what she is going through, not even Franco anymore. That he proved tonight. She needs to find out what is real, what is not, and whether or not she is going crazy. She is filled with so much doubt and so much confusion that she can’t think straight.
…While Franco was in the shower, she listened hard for those voices…she continued to listen…she tried to hear the moaning…but nothing. How could this be? Why is she only hearing voices when she’s alone? Something didn’t feel right. She is desperate to get to the bottom of things. She felt at this point that if it turns out she is truly having mental issues, so be it. At least she will know what the problem is and will just have to address it, even if it means seeing her psychiatrist again. On the other hand, if it turns out something else is at work here, then she will find that out as well and deal with that accordingly. E
ither way, Rosalie is ready to conquer this one way or another. Her life depends upon it…She continued to prepare dinner while looking forward to tomorrow; a new day and a new opportunity to focus on what she needs to do.
CHAPTER FIVE - A NEW DAY
After sharing coffee and cinnamon-raisin oatmeal this morning in silence, Franco left for work and Rosalie sat consumed with grief. Franco had left Rosalie feeling slighted and rejected. He did kiss her forehead before he left, as he usually does, but the sudden absence of harmony in their relationship was as real as the sky is blue. Rosalie came to the realization that the voices she keeps hearing, whether real or not, are putting a wedge between her and Franco and this is eating her up inside. She doesn’t blame Franco for feeling the way he does, but she did expect him to support her more strongly than he showed last night, at least until they find out exactly what is happening. Franco is losing patience with Rosalie although he tries desperately to fight it. The thought of Franco suggesting that Rosalie see her psychiatrist is heartbreaking and upsetting, especially after she insisted those voices are real. He didn’t believe her. He didn’t try to understand. He abandoned her physically and emotionally last night. Rosalie felt alienated from the one person she trusted with her life.
She cleaned up the breakfast dishes, and grabbed a scouring pad from under the sink to scrape off the remnants of dried sticky oatmeal from her favorite pot. Her tears came fast and hard, falling from her cheeks and into the sink, swirling down the drain just like her life. After pouring herself a second cup of coffee, she packaged her most recent manuscript, which was another mystery novel that’s set in an old Victorian mansion by the sea, and planned to take it over to the Post Office for transport to a new publisher in New York City. With all that is going wrong in her life right now, Rosalie hoped that this latest novel may possibly get published. If all else fails, she always has her writing to keep her company, to keep her living and to keep her sane. Although Rosalie is accustomed to rejection letters, as most writers are, she has had some success over the years with self-publishing her own work. Perhaps she should have done that with this new novel. She couldn’t bear a rejection letter from the publisher on this submission. Not at this point in her life. Despite that nagging thought, Rosalie felt confident that this latest novel just might grab the attention of the new publisher. Rosalie wanted so much to share this news with Franco, but last night and this morning just ruined any chance of that. The timing was just not right. She’s not sure if any time will be right anymore.
After a quick shower, Rosalie put on her favorite jeans, a white oxford blouse, her blue tapestry jacket and her black clogs, then headed out to the Post Office. Before she left, however, she walked over to the air shaft in her kitchen, put her ear against the paneling, and listened for “the voices”. She just had to do it to convince herself that she was not going mad. To her wonderment – nothing. She put her ear against the paneling a second time. Again – nothing. She thought to herself, there is no rhyme or reason to any of this. None of it makes sense. She absolutely is not quite ready to share her ordeal with her psychiatrist. Not yet anyway. Not until she has exhausted every possibility of where these voices are really coming from and why she hears them only when she’s home alone, and not all the time even then. Are they truly coming up from the cellar, or from her head? Rosalie is not giving up on herself until she finds that answer. Only then will she know what to do about it, and Franco and Maria will just have to live with her decision. Feeling just a tad bit better since she did not hear the voices or the moaning this morning, Rosalie took a deep breath and headed out the door with her manuscript hoping this was a sign of brighter days.
It was such a pleasant morning that Rosalie decided to walk the mile to the small neighborhood post office instead of taking her car. She put on her dark glasses in order to avoid the blinding light from the sun while she enjoyed its warmth upon her face, as she continued her walk. All she could think about was the possibility of losing Franco over her ordeal with the voices. She envisioned herself living alone in her big old house for the rest of her life, having no one around to share the good times or help her through the bad times, when she would need someone the most. This brought her to tears once again. Rosalie knew for sure that loneliness and abandonment would certainly drive her insane. She tried to dismiss those thoughts from her mind, but she couldn’t. Her worst fears were coming true. She just couldn’t let that happen without putting up a good fight and getting to the bottom of her situation before it really is too late for her and Franco. She had to talk to Millie again. Millie reminded Rosalie so much of her Mom. She felt safe and comfortable in Millie’s presence, as she did when her mom was alive. She trusted Millie completely and respected her judgment. So when Rosalie walked past the neighborhood florist, she decided to take a detour and go inside to select a plant for Millie and surprise her with it this afternoon. Rosalie decided on the perfect plant – a small pink baby rosebush which sat on display in a clay-colored ceramic pot, just waiting to be bought. Millie could eventually plant the little rosebush in her garden; the garden she took such pride in, and the garden that made Millie smile. Yes, Rosalie thought, that would be the perfect gift for Millie today.
After purchasing the rosebush, Rosalie got back on the avenue and proceeded to walk straight to the Post Office with her manuscript under one arm and the plant in the other. Walking a few blocks farther, Rosalie heard a familiar voice calling out her name. She knew it was Michael, but didn’t want to turn around too fast for fear of letting him see how happy she was to run into him again. So Rosalie slowly turned, looking to the right, then to the left, pretending she was unsure of where the voice was coming from. When Rosalie heard Michael call out her name again, she finally turned to where the voice was coming from and said, “Oh Michael. How are you? It’s so nice to see you again. What brings you down this end of the neighborhood?” Michael gently put his arm around Rosalie’s petite shoulders, gave her a friendly hug, then replied, “I’m heading to the post office to drop off my newest manuscript. I just finished my third book in a series of children’s books I’ve written.” Rosalie laughed and told Michael that’s just where she was headed so as to drop off her latest manuscript as well. They both then shared a moment of merriment at the coincidence that they would run into each other today, heading to the post office, while both mailing out their manuscripts on their latest projects. Rosalie and Michael felt this overwhelming connection through their common love of writing. It was evident by the smiles on their faces.
Michael asked Rosalie if her latest book was the one she had told him about a while back where two friends shared a Victorian mansion by the sea that was inherited by one of them. Rosalie nodded with a smile, amazed that Michael would even remember that. He then asked with a silly grin, “Did you decide whether or not you were going to have one of the friends betray the other by stealing her man?” Rosalie was taken aback by Michael’s sharp memory and responded, “Of course, and you’ll have to read the book to find out all the sexy details.” Michael told Rosalie that he is looking forward to reading her book and wished her well on getting it published. She, in turn, wished Michael well on his new book. So together they walked the rest of the way to the post office to send their manuscripts out to the publishers.
Michael then asked Rosalie if she’d like to stop for coffee somewhere. Rosalie reminded Michael that he promised he would not be the first one to ask. Michael then responded by saying he promised not to be the first one to call, but since they ran into each other by chance today that doesn’t count anymore. Rosalie couldn’t help but chuckle at his response because he was just so cute about it and his big beautiful smile touched her heart, almost pushing her to say “yes”; however, she instead said to Michael, “Maybe another time.” Rosalie really wanted to rush back home and take the little rosebush over to Millie’s house and have a much needed heart to heart talk with this very wise woman. If Rosalie was being totally honest with herself, she also wanted to rush
back for fear of staying, accepting Michael’s invitation, and loving it as well…So Michael, being the gentleman that he is, told Rosalie that he’d be looking forward to sharing coffee with her at another time. He then joked, pointing at the pink baby rosebush set in the clay-colored ceramic pot in Rosalie’s arms, that the next time they meet he would prefer little yellow roses. Michael’s statement prompted them both to share a hearty laugh as they parted ways in opposite directions.
Rosalie felt rejuvenated inside with an excitement that filled her soul. Michael had a funny way of doing that to her, but she knew she shouldn’t be feeling this way. Franco is the one who should be sending Rosalie’s emotions to new heights, not Michael. Despite that, she hadn’t felt this way in a long time since dealing with her problems; and now, having Franco question her mental state, she actually loved what she was feeling.
Unfortunately, Rosalie still couldn’t shake away the thought that Ms. Price, the psychic medium, may be right. Perhaps Michael is the person who may be the one to come between Rosalie and Franco, as her parents warned in Ms. Price’s encounter with them. Yet Rosalie felt Michael was too nice to even attempt to come between her and Franco. She sensed that Michael would never intentionally hurt her or anyone else. It just wasn’t part of who he was. “No,” she thought. Her parents couldn’t have meant Michael; their warning must be about something or someone else.
Rosalie stopped for a moment and said to herself, “Oh my God. If Millie could only hear my thoughts. She doesn’t believe in this stuff, she told me to let my parents rest in peace. What am I doing? What am I thinking?” As Rosalie continued her walk back to Millie’s house, she wondered too if she should just let her parents rest in peace and forget about what Ms. Price said…but then again she thought, “What if Ms. Price is right and my parents did come through to her. Maybe I should seriously consider that and heed my parents’ warning and beware. I can’t let this go. I have to see this through before it destroys me.” Rosalie felt confused, scared, and alone again; especially after leaving Michael’s presence. That alone made her realize that Michael is not the culprit. He is just too sweet and too caring, and Rosalie feels perfectly wonderful and comfortable in his company. Rosalie is more determined now than ever to find out who or what may be out to destroy her relationship with Franco. Sadly, Rosalie feels her relationship with Franco changing, and not for the better. Perhaps she is the reason behind all of this, she thought. Maybe she is the one undermining their relationship without even realizing it...As she approached Millie’s house, Rosalie felt a sense of comfort and relief. A dose of Millie’s motherly advice and hospitality is exactly what she needs right now.
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