by Mary Blayney
"What?" But before the word left his mouth, he realized what she was saying. They were all behind her, the dead. They were watching him—craning their necks, their bright eyes all trained on him—but they were behind her and they were staying there.
"If you go sit with her, I'll keep them away."
Martin didn't know how she was doing it, but she was, and somehow that meant that he had to do what she wanted.
He pulled the door open, a movement that twisted his back in a way that made his injured arm—his whole chest—burn like it was on fire. It took a moment to catch his breath. But as soon as he did, the first thing he noticed was how empty the space was. The complete lack of the dead. The quiet was so stark, so welcome, that it drifted over him—calming, cooling—as he scanned the rows of vinyl chairs. Empty. All empty. Well, all except the one.
Over in the corner, under a window, sat a little girl. She looked up when Martin walked through the door.
She was crying, but she wasn't making any noise about it.
"Hi," Martin said, and then, for lack of anything better to do, he gave a little wave.
"Hi," she said in a watery voice.
Martin started over but his head still hurt and by the time he got there he was out of breath again. Without even asking he sat down next to her. Or fell down, more accurately.
She had a long–stemmed rose in the lap of her jumper. Navy plaid, with a white shirt. Martin recognized the uniform from the Catholic school. "What grade are you in?"
"First." She twirled the rose and kicked her feet, little black shoes going up and down. "It's scary in here."
As far as Martin was concerned—with the nice dead lady guarding the door outside—this was the least scary place he'd been in a long, long time. But she wasn't talking about his kind of scary, so he shrugged instead of answering.
That seemed okay with her so Martin sat back in the chair and looked around. It was nice. No dead people, trying to get his attention. No mom, yelling into the phone. Just this girl, here.
He looked at her again and for a moment he forgot all about his head and his chest. She had the strangest, prettiest pale gray eyes. Even rimmed in red, they were pretty. Even filled with tears.
"Don't cry," he said.
She nodded, then reached over, took hold of his hand, took a deep breath, and leaned in. Her pretty blonde hair trailed like silk over his sleeve. "My mama's sick."
He squeezed her hand. "The doctors will take care of her."
"No." Her voice was sad. "I heard the nurses talking. They said…" Her breath hitched. "They said 'Oh, that poor, poor man. Lost his son and now his beautiful wife, all in the same night.'"
"Maybe they were wrong. Maybe the doctors can fix it."
"We brought her roses." She twirled the flower between her fingers, studying the petals. "They're her favorites."
Martin lifted his arm—even though it hurt so much it made him want to swear out loud—and the girl whimpered and slid across the chair.
She settled in against him, her head on his shoulder, and the rest of the world went away. He forgot about his nose. Forgot the bruises on his face. Forgot the dead people waiting on the other side. The warmth of her in his arms eased the pain across his back and his breath came easier, and for what seemed like a long time, that was where they stayed.
The End
Author Bio
Evie Owens was born in Japan, but grew up on a dairy farm in Upper Michigan. She's waited tables and tended bar, which makes her a very good tipper, but writing is her passion. She's thrilled to be included in this anthology with some of her favorite authors.
These days, Evie lives in Maryland while her two fabulous daughters and one glorious granddaughter live too far away. Leaving her no alternative but to turn to a life of crazy cat ladyness (except for the "cat" and the "ladyness" parts).
Email Evie
Visit Evie's Website.
Table of Contents
Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Author’s Note
Author Bio
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Author Bio
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Coming Soon
Author Bio
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Author Bio
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
Author Bio