Voices

by Phyllis P. Colucci

  …After what seemed to be a long while, Rosalie jumped up spastically, realizing she had dozed off with her head back and her mouth wide open. She looked around the library hoping no one had noticed. She then opened her bag, took out her purse mirror and burgundy lipstick, and freshened her lips. She patted them down with a clean tissue, then got up from the chair and walked through the revolving doors, exiting the library. Looking up at the clear blue sky and feeling a slight warm breeze touch her cheek, Rosalie decided to enjoy the rest of the afternoon at the park. The park was about ten blocks from the library, and the walk would do her good. She just wasn’t ready to enter her house yet. So Rosalie made her way down the avenue focused on her destination, smiling at passersby, while winking at the little children being wheeled in their strollers by their nannies.

  …As Rosalie approached the entrance to the park, she spotted a bench in a shady area next to the “Doggie playground”, where she sat herself down. How Rosalie loved dogs. They always seem to warm her heart like a visit from a dear friend. She chuckled to herself as she watched the dogs run around like active little children. Then suddenly her joy turned into sadness as she thought about the happy times when she and Franco would stroll through the park and stop by this same doggie playground to watch the dogs run and play with their owners in tow. Tears started to stream down Rosalie’s face as the thought of losing Franco and their relationship sat heavy on her mind. She wiped the tears from her cheeks while struggling to see the dogs and their owners through watery eyes. As she continued to think about what the future may hold for her and Franco, she saw a gentleman approaching. She was unable to make out who he was through her tears, but he was coming straight toward her. As he got closer, she saw that he was walking a red cocker spaniel. To her surprise, it was wonderful Michael.

  “Rosalie,” he said with his strong soothing voice, “What brings you to the park? I’m really glad to run into you again today. Did your morning go alright? Is everything okay? You look like you’ve been crying.” Convinced she couldn’t hide her teary eyes from Michael, Rosalie responded that she was fine, that a bit of flying dirt blew into her eyes irritating them. Changing the subject, she looked down at Michael’s adorable red cocker spaniel and just couldn’t resist patting its head ever so gently. She adored his cute floppy ears as she tossed them playfully with both hands. Rosalie was amazed at how a beautiful cuddly dog could somehow erase everything that’s going bad in your life; for a short time anyway. She looked back up at Michael and asked, “What’s your dog’s name? He’s gorgeous.” Michael proudly stated, “His name is Edgar.” Rosalie smiled at Michael and jokingly asked if by chance he named his dog after that wonderful writer Mr. Edgar Allan Poe. She was pleasantly surprised by Michael’s response. He actually said that he did name his little spaniel after Edgar Allan Poe. He said he loved Poe and everything about “Poe”. Michael found Poe’s works enchanting, powerful and thrilling, and felt that naming his dog after Poe would not only keep him connected to the writer but also serve as a tribute to him. Rosalie admired Michael’s response, being a writer herself, but she just couldn’t resist asking him one question about it. So she teasingly asked Michael if this special little spaniel could recite Poe’s “The Raven”. Michael, playing along, responded with laughter and said, “Not only can Edgar recite ‘The Raven’, but he also ‘taps’ and ‘raps’ at my ‘chamber door’ when he wants to eat. You should hear him recite ‘Annabel Lee’ to one of the perky little female dogs at the playground here. - - Oh, and he also loves to read ‘The Pit and the Pendulum’ before bedtime. I think the thought of that horrible pendulum swinging back and forth actually hypnotizes little Edgar, putting him into a deep sleep. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost believe that he was ‘Poe’ incarnate.”

  Rosalie, utterly amused by Michael’s sense of humor, responded, “Okay, now you’re being funny Michael. That’s okay. I think Edgar is not only gorgeous but very intelligent, and definitely very special. He can read me a ‘Poe’ bedtime story anytime.” Michael gazed at Rosalie with smiling eyes, then gently grabbed one of her hands. He soon helped her up from the park bench and politely asked if she would like to escort him and Edgar back to his apartment. He needed to get Edgar back home after their long walk through the park today so Edgar could hydrate himself with a large bowl of water. To Michael’s surprise, and to Rosalie’s surprise as well, she accepted. So Rosalie, Michael and Edgar happily strolled through the park towards Michael’s apartment as if the three of them had been together forever, with Rosalie and Michael laughing and joking all the way home.

  Rosalie felt such joy and harmony walking next to Michael, breathing in that familiar smell of his leather jacket and the hint of peppermint gum upon his breath. They walked and they giggled and they played with Edgar along the way, stopping to allow the children who gathered around Edgar the chance to pet this loving spaniel who wagged his tail so happily.

  …As Rosalie, Michael and Edgar reached the apartment, Michael pulled the house keys from his jacket pocket warning Rosalie to beware of Edgar once Michael opened the front door. Sure enough, Edgar ran into the ground-floor apartment like he was chasing after a bird, leaving a thrust of wind behind as he immediately ran over to his water bowl and drank up a storm.

  Michael told Rosalie to make herself comfortable while he went into the kitchen to get two club sodas. He asked Rosalie if she’d like a twist of lime with that, to which she nodded graciously. While Michael was in the kitchen, Rosalie noticed his collection of books on the bookshelf near his large-screen television. She quickly recognized “Poe” of course, sitting alongside the works of Mark Twain, Emily Dickinson, Robert Frost…and many, many other great writers and poets. Soon her eyes came across “Testimony of Two Men” by Taylor Caldwell. As soon as Michael entered the room with their drinks, Rosalie remarked about “Testimony of Two Men”. She went on to explain how special that book was to her. She remembered reading it when her mother was alive. Rosalie told Michael that one day she and her mother were on a bus ride heading to Lancaster, Pennsylvania, to tour the Amish area there, when she first read “Testimony of Two Men”. She had grabbed the book from her house that morning and placed it into her bag so she could read it on the bus to Lancaster. That was one of the last trips she took with her Mom, so that book held a special place in her heart. She added that she fell in love with the story surrounding the character of “Jonathan Ferrier”, his personal and professional struggles, and the role this book and its characters played in modern medicine. Rosalie stated that she and her mother had discussed this book many times over tea. “Yes,” she repeated, “that book is very special to me.”

  As Michael listened to Rosalie, he seemed quite charmed by her sensitivity. This prompted him to ask Rosalie if she still had the book at home. Rosalie replied that she didn’t. She foolishly gave it away when she was cleaning house after her parents died. She didn’t realize the sentimental value that book held for her until she discarded it. Michael immediately pulled the book from his shelf and handed it to Rosalie. He told her to keep it as a reminder of her Mom. Rosalie at first refused, telling Michael that she couldn’t possibly take that book since it was part of his wonderful collection. Michael told Rosalie that it would mean a lot to him if she would accept it. He added that the book seemed to have much more meaning for her, and would live on in her home through the years instead of sitting on his bookshelf collecting dust. Rosalie was so thankful that she didn’t know what to do or what to say, so she just hugged Michael tightly. Realizing that perhaps she shouldn’t have done that, she backed off and apologized to Michael. Michael just smiled at Rosalie and gave her the warmest hug back, telling her it was his pleasure.

  After a brief, yet uncomfortable exchange of silence between them, which Rosalie took responsibility for, she quickly asked Michael where Edgar was. The apartment grew so quiet, she just had to say something. Michael took Rosalie by the hand and quietly walked her over to the kitchen doorway, eagerly pointing his finger
towards the kitchen table. There was Edgar - rolled up in a ball and fast asleep underneath the kitchen table looking so angelic, without a care in the world. Rosalie smiled profoundly as she slowly turned and tip-toed herself back over to Michael’s oversized sofa to take her seat. Michael followed behind. There they sat in a nervous silence once again, until Michael bravely broke through that strained moment to empathetically ask Rosalie if she was okay. After reminding Rosalie that he had noticed something was wrong when he saw her sitting alone on the park bench today, Michael encouraged her to talk to him. Rosalie just stared at Michael for a few seconds, wanting so much to confide in him about what’s been going on in her life, but immediately backed away from that idea. Rosalie felt it was just too soon to tell Michael something so outrageous. Hearing voices? No, she just couldn’t reveal that part of her life to him right now. What would he think? She did not want to risk losing the beautiful, growing friendship that was developing between them. They just reconnected and she did not want to destroy that. Rosalie felt in her heart that in due time she will be able to tell Michael everything. Life is all about timing and the timing just wasn’t right at the moment. So Rosalie responded to Michael in the best way she knew how, and that was to tell him exactly what she told him in the park; that absolutely nothing was wrong, that she is just fine, and what he thought he saw in the park today was just a moment where Rosalie’s eyes were full of dust and dirt from the wind, and she was just trying to clear them. She laughed and said, “What a sight I must have been.” To that, Michael responded by saying ever so sweetly, “I’ll say…a sight for sore eyes Rosalie. You looked as pretty as ever, even with a bit of dirt in those gorgeous eyes.” Rosalie shyly whispered, “Well thank you for saying that Michael. I feel so much better about you catching me off guard at that moment. It was a little embarrassing for me, you know.” Michael leaned into Rosalie and gave her a playful pinch on her cheek, telling her not to give it a second thought. He was just so happy to run into her today. Rosalie felt the same way. She felt such joy being around Michael; however, after taking a quick glance at her watch, she knew it was time to go although she really wanted to stay. On the other hand, she couldn’t stay much longer at Michael’s apartment because, frankly, she was running out of conversation and just wanted to leave on a good note, while they were still comfortable in each other’s company. As Rosalie rose to her feet, Michael handed her his copy of “Testimony of Two Men” and told her not to forget to take the book with her. She slowly grabbed the book from Michael’s hand as her fingers gently brushed against his in the process. The sensation of Michael’s touch made Rosalie quiver. She was feeling things she shouldn’t, but she was feeling things she wanted…After thanking him greatly, Rosalie headed towards the door. Michael chivalrously opened the door for her and said, before parting, “I enjoyed this time together Rosalie. Maybe we can do it again one day.” As those beautiful words echoed in Rosalie’s ears, she said, “Maybe. I’d like that. Give Edgar a hug for me.” Within minutes, she was out the door and on her way home.

  As Rosalie made the walk back to her house, all she could concentrate on were the butterflies in her stomach. They were happily fluttering about, as her heart filled with excitement. She was starting to feel something very strong for Michael. Was it friendship? Was it appreciation? Was it something more? Was it just the fact that she and Franco were having problems and Michael was just there? Whatever it was, her heart was dancing. She just loved how Michael made her feel. It was something she hadn’t felt in awhile since the “voices” started taking over her life and threatening her relationship with Franco.

  As she continued to walk, Rosalie started to feel a bit hungry for a sweet snack, longing for a cannoli from the Italian bakery. The aromas of fresh bread and pastries tapped at her taste buds while the thought of Michael woke up her appetite, a sign that she was feeling good inside. Unsure how long this feeling would last, she raced into the bakery and picked up a large cannoli and a double espresso for the road. Rosalie deserved this treat. She then headed home with her coffee and snack, carefully toting Taylor Caldwell’s “Testimony of Two Men” securely under her arm. Rosalie was still apprehensive, however, about going into her house. She couldn’t believe how hearing those eerie voices and the awful moaning have turned her into a fearful stranger in her own home. She can only hope that today will be different. She can only hope for a new tomorrow with each passing day…As Rosalie stood in front of her door with snacks and book in hand, she performed a juggling act trying to search for her house keys in her oversized bag. Successfully, Rosalie located her keys and entered her front door making her way upstairs to the apartment.

  Once she was in her apartment, Rosalie set her cannoli and her double espresso down on the kitchen table and went into the bedroom to change, carefully cradling Michael’s book. She placed the book on the dresser and, after changing into a pair of sweat pants and an old sweat shirt, realized that her new sneakers were stored away down the cellar. “Oh no!” she thought to herself. “Do I really need those sneakers? Yes I do…these old ones are on their way out…but I just can’t bring myself to go down to the cellar to get them. What am I going to do? I can’t live like this.” Rosalie’s thoughts were driving her mad. After walking back into the kitchen to eat her cannoli and drink her espresso, she decided that she would attempt to make her way down to that cellar. She felt that she needed to do this. She needed to fight this. She needed to convince herself that she was not going crazy. So she went over to the paneled air shaft in her kitchen and put her ear up close, listening for the voices. She heard nothing. She did it two more times to be certain, and again – nothing. She now mustered up enough courage to make her way down to that cellar, telling herself to be brave; that just maybe those voices do not exist and that what she actually hears are the many sounds of the house. Franco and dear old Millie have expressed that to her and she’d like to consider that to be the case. Can she truly accept that? Does she really believe this herself?

  So although her insides were shaking and her knees were buckling, Rosalie made her way down the stairs to the bottom landing ever so slowly…and ever so carefully. Suddenly, as she approached the cellar door, there it was again! Loud and clear! The awful moaning, the muffled voices, that eerie voice calling out her name!...“Rosalie! Rosalie! You’ve come back! Come down Rosalie! Come down! We’re waiting for you!” - Rosalie listened hard to the distorted chatter and gut-wrenching moaning. There was no mistake. She was hearing something not of this world. It was almost as if those voices knew she was approaching that cellar door; like they were waiting for her. She let out a scream that echoed throughout the hallway. Rosalie took the stairs two at a time and ran back up into the apartment, locking the door behind her. Breathlessly, she reached for the phone and immediately called Franco on his cell phone, demanding he get home right away because she was hearing the voices again! She hoped that if Franco got home soon enough, he would hear them too. Rosalie was frightened and panicked and needed him now. Franco, terribly upset by this next episode, was forced to leave work early and return home to Rosalie immediately. Rosalie once again hid out in her tiled bathroom, safe from the wrath of those voices, as she waited anxiously for Franco’s return.

  …Finally, after what seemed like forever, Franco came home. He knew just where to find Rosalie. As soon as he opened the bathroom door, Rosalie, again like a frightened child, ran into Franco’s arms where she fell to pieces like shattered glass. Only this time something was different. To Rosalie’s despair, Franco was not going to pick up the pieces. Although Franco held Rosalie in his arms, that strong, comforting and protective grasp that was always part of who Franco was, seemed to be missing to Rosalie’s dismay. Franco let his arms down and just peered into Rosalie’s eyes with a look of disappointment and displeasure. He muttered under his breath, “Again with these voices”; loud enough for Rosalie to hear, yet low enough to let her understand that he’s saddened and he’s had enough. He simply said, “I can’t take
much more of this Rosalie. I’m trying to understand what’s going on here, but it’s going too far. You need help. Now this is interfering with my job. I can’t walk off the job every time you call and scream ‘voices’ into the cell phone.” Then he abruptly turned away, walked into the kitchen and sat at the table looking like a tired, worn-out and troubled man. Rosalie followed him, with tears in her eyes, unsure if she was crying for him, for her or for both of them. She felt humiliated by Franco’s reaction and no longer recognized this “stranger” before her…She took a seat at the other end of the table and softly stated, “Franco, I spoke with Millie today and she suggested I keep a log of exactly when I hear these voices. She feels this may help me get to the bottom of things by detecting some sort of pattern.” Franco in total disgust, responded, “With all due respect to Millie, keeping a log isn’t going to solve anything. We’ve already established that you hear these voices whenever you’re alone in the house. So it doesn’t really matter when or what time now, does it Rosalie? Do you hear the voices now?” All Rosalie could say was, “I heard them when I called you to come home Franco, now they stopped.” Rosalie explained how she tried bravely to fight this and make her way down to the cellar to get her new sneakers; but by the time she reached the cellar door, the voices started calling out to her.

  Franco couldn’t even look Rosalie in the eye at this point. Rosalie felt like she was talking to the air. She went over to Franco, pulled out one of the side chairs from her kitchen table, and sat down beside him resting one hand on his leg while patting him gently. Franco did not respond to her touch. He sat stone cold like a statue while Rosalie remained stunned and hurt by his lack of compassion toward her. In anger, she grabbed his chin firmly, turned his face toward her, and exclaimed, “That’s when I ran back up to the apartment and called you to come home Franco! You refuse to believe me, but something very strange and inexplicable is happening here! Damn you Franco, those voices are real! Why won’t you believe me? I need your help Franco, but if you don’t believe me…well then, I’ve already lost the battle.”