The Wisdom of Evil

by Scarlet Black

  Of course, she notified the Cliff’s End police department about Michael’s death. No one there gave her any flack about burying him at home; they understood. He was one of them and their sergeant as well. The police department was Michael and Glory’s second family. That was always the way with members of a police force or even a fire department; they were bound together by the inherent dangers of the job. Having to depend on one another for their very survival at times made for a very close knit group.

  In the days that followed, the Cliff’s End police department took care of all the details necessary for the funeral itself. They notified everyone, both from their own department, as well as the Boston police department. Glory, of course, called family members as well. Other than doing that, no one would allow her or Mickey to do anything. They brought food and drink and the warmth of their company. Although, while Glory was grateful for all they had done, her heart ached for Michael. She’d close her eyes and pictured him. The pain of not having the comfort of his strong arms around her was unbearable.

  Finally, after the days of preparation, she stood alongside Mickey, dressed in black to say her goodbyes to the love of her life.

  To some, it might have appeared odd, a gathering on private property of over one hundred officers and their wives. Many of those on the Boston police department were there as well. They’d pitched in along with the Cliff’s End police force and bought a bronzed plaque to place on the ground in front of the grave. Michael’s best friend, James, was devastated. He kept telling Glory and Mickey he should have been that night, but Michael hadn’t wanted to put him in danger, so he’d gone to the animal hospital alone. He slid the permit for burial through the code enforcement office, who dared not challenge it. They’d known and loved Michael as well. In fact, he was one of the most skilled and trusted cops in town.

  It was sad and somber, but they stood proud with honor, just as Michael had, in their dress uniforms. Proud to serve and protect their community. After their priest had blessed the site and prayers had been said, two officers, as well as two Naval officers with whom Michael had served, folded the American flag in traditional military fashion and handed it to Glory. They saluted her and turned to salute Michael. A flag pole was erected in front of his grave, the flag flying at half-mast. It swayed gently, beautiful in the light Maine breeze. No matter the troubles the country was facing at present, Michael had served it well, in the Navy and as a police officer. And in the process, she was sure; he felt he’d served God as well.

  Neither Glory nor Mickey spotted a man with long, unkempt, shaggy hair and beard standing at the edge of the woods.

  After all the mourners left, Glory and Mickey walked into a silent home, as silent as a tomb. There wasn’t a rambunctious Labrador retriever bounding toward them, delightfully happy to greet them, as Haley always had. Michael’s everyday uniform hung on a hanger in the bathroom, now without an owner.

  Glory lay down on Michael’s side of the bed, wrapping her arms around his pillow, trying to pick up his scent, picturing him in her arms again. She lay like that for what must have been hours. Her eyes closed, tears forming at the corners, but she didn’t cry. Just those few tears pooled at the very bottom of her lids and fell onto his pillow. Her grief was so profound, tears were not enough.

  “Mom?” Mickey’s voice came from the doorway. “Can I get you anythin’? There’s a ton of food out in the kitchen from everybody. Do yah want something to eat?”

  “No. Thank you…I just need to be alone for a while.”

  “’Kay. I’ll come back in a bit. Just call me if you need me. I’ll, um, clean up.”

  She nodded, never moving her face from Michael’s pillow. Perhaps she’d never move again, just stay here, close her eyes and pretend that he was at work. That he’d be coming home to her.

  Chapter 21

  A sound broke through Glory’s sorrowful haze. Someone was knocking at the door. When no one came, they rang the doorbell.

  “Go away!” Glory shouted, putting the pillow over her head to muffle the continuing knocking.

  “Mom, there’s someone at the door. Do you want me to answer it? It’s a guy…looks harmless.”

  “Answer it if you wanna.” Glory didn’t really care. She wasn’t going to talk to anyone.

  All Mickey could see was a dark shadow standing on the deck, the bright sunlight of the day making a perfect silhouette of the figure standing outside.

  Mickey opened the door.

  “May I…help you?” Mickey asked politely.

  “I’m here to see your mother,” the man said nervously. Did he pose a danger or not? Haley would’ve known immediately, but he was no longer with them.

  Mickey looked him over. He looked like one of the crazies. Maybe he wasn’t so harmless after all. His clothes were dirty; his long, straggly hair was unwashed and hung to his shoulders. His face and beard were filthy as well. But his eyes were clear and calm. Mickey decided to trust his instincts. He let him in.

  “Mom, there’s a guy here to see yah.”

  “Tell ‘im to go away.”

  “Glory?” The man stood behind Mickey in the doorway to the bedroom.

  The voice was familiar, although she couldn’t say why.

  She got up and stood in front of him. He stared into her eyes. It was as if she were looking at her own! Now she knew why she’d recognized his voice. It was someone who knew her well; a long time ago in what seemed like another lifetime. It was her brother Ted.

  Glory was astonished! “Oh my God! Is that…you, Ted?” she whispered, feeling no hatred toward him.

  She felt something she never thought she’d ever feel in his presence, relief! He was still her family, no matter what else he was. Brother and sister embraced, hugging each other fiercely, without word, seeking comfort in each other’s arms. Some connections could never be broken. Life was not as simple as she’d thought, not black and white. There were plenty of gray areas to be sure. But this—he was all that was left of her early history. In her hurt and immature selfishness, she’d failed to remember some things. He’d lived in that abusive house as well! He’d suffered many a beating at their father’s hands and had lived with an emotionally vacant mother, too. The tears were bittersweet as each realized with sadness that they’d lost years together. Years they’d needed each other, but were too young and stubborn to admit to.

  Ted held his hand out to Mickey, but he wouldn’t take it. He muttered some lame excuse, went to his room, and closed the door. Glory understood. Perhaps he was unable to forgive Ted and Sean yet, if ever.

  The ensuing silence was deafening, yet spoke volumes. There was so much to say, but where to start?

  “I’m so sorry about Michael,” Ted said solemnly. “He was a good man.”

  “Thank you. Yeah, he was. He saved my life. It cost him his own.”

  Thinking of Michael’s death bed confession, she knew she’d have to tell Ted. It was only right to give him closure in the death of his only son. As much as it killed her to taint Michael’s memory in any way, she owed it to him.

  “I have to tell you something, Ted. After you hear what I have to say, you may never want to speak to me again. Might even hate me, but…”

  “Don’t, Glory. I already know. Have always known. You know, for the past few years, I hated Michael for what he’d done. And I hated you for not seeing the truth of it. But, havin’ plenty of time to think, being alone now, I came to understand. I probably woulda done the same thing. They were our children, after all! Parents wanna protect their kids and sometimes they do things no rational person would dream of. Hell, just havin’ the responsibility for another life is enough to make you do things you’d never think you would!”

  “I know it doesn’t change anything, and Michael is…gone. So, he can’t speak on his own behalf, but if he were here with us right now, we’d both be saying we’re sorry. I’m…sorry.” Now the tears came; she sobbed for all of it. Michael, Olivia, Haley, her entire family left in ruins, and
she couldn’t blame it all on the mysterious figure that plagued her still. She knew full well she wasn’t entirely innocent in the events that had shaped her life.

  “It’s okay, Glory,” he said, taking her in his arms, kissing the top of her head. “I missed yah, you know? I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but I hope I can be the brother you need.”

  “I think we’ve all made our fair share of mistakes, Ted. You don’t need to be anything but who you are. My brother.”

  “You an’ Michael were great parents and you were an amazing couple. I envied and resented you for a long time. You were able to rise above our fucked up childhood and become a truly exceptional wife, mother and…human being.”

  “I’ll tell you something, Ted. I never really understood what love was, not really. I mimicked the emotions a lot of the time, pretended. I wavered back an’ forth between feeling love and feeling, well, nothin’ at all. And I have a serious psychological condition too. Worse than drinking, I think. Worse than anything you can imagine.”

  He looked truly surprised. “What could be so bad?” he asked.

  She told him all about the Thanatophobia, but not about the “real” Grim Reaper, because that would really sound nuts! Instead, she spoke of her daughter.

  “When Olivia died, she took a big chunk of my heart with her, if you want to know the truth of it. I visit her grave a lot.”

  “I know you do.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He reached into the pocket of his jacket, his eyes still on hers, and took something out, his fist wrapped loosely around the object in his hand. Extending his hand out to her, he spread his fingers out, revealing what lay in his palm.

  Glory put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide in disbelief. Resting there were the delicate petals of a yellow rose.

  “It was you! That’s where the roses on Olivia’s grave came from!”

  “Yes. I remembered they were her favorite.” His voice cracked with emotion.

  “Can you…stay with us? I mean, do you need a place to stay?”

  “Nah. I’m okay.” He waved her off. “You know I’d never leave Boston. Even though it’s pretty bad there now, its home. I’d like to try to talk to Mickey if yah don’t mind.”

  “Of course, yeah, sure…I’ll get ‘im.”

  He stopped her. “No, I want to talk to him alone, man to man.”

  It seemed as if hours passed. Glory paced the kitchen floor, hoping the two could reconcile. The three of them were all that was left of her family and family was everything. Finally, the door creaked open and they stood before her.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “We made a deal.” Ted slowly smiled. Mickey nodded, smiling tentatively, but at least it was something.

  “What deal?”

  “If I fuck up, Mickey’s goin’ to kill me, shoot me dead.”

  “Without hesitation, Uncle Ted.”

  “Men!” Glory shook her head.

  They shook hands. A firm handshake from Mickey meant something all right. Like his father, he was a man of honor. And like men, they’d put aside their differences in their own way, with a joke and a handshake, so much simpler than all the hemming and hawing women did.

  Chapter 22

  The summer was waning fast, as it did in Maine. The nights brought the cooling caress of pine scented air. Even during the oppressive heat of summer, most nights were still cool and pleasant. And the stars high above this untouched terrain were, for want of a better word, spectacular.

  If she’d only been able to open her eyes to the innate beauty of nature, she may have been able to handle challenges much differently than she had. The interconnectedness of all things could be found in the still places of the mind, not in the hurried, frantic thinking that was her normal pace. Her mind had always worked overtime.

  After her brother’s visit, she was left in the house with memories and her own thoughts. Mickey was busy with his own life now, just as he should be. Yet, he was always there for her if she needed him. But, when Mickey announced that he was joining the Cliff’s End police department, Glory was in a state of panic.

  “Please, Mickey, don’t do it,” she pleaded. “I can’t bear to lose you. You’re all I have left! You an’ Ted!”

  “They need me, Mom. Things just keep gettin’ worse out there. Maybe we can still protect that which we all love about Cliff’s End. I can’t just ignore what’s going on out there. If I don’t do it for us, then for the future. I don’t want my kids to grow up with the way things are now. I want them to have the kind of childhood I had. Things have just…gone too far with people losin’ everything and the violence… It’s my duty to take Dad’s place. To protect and serve.”

  Glory looked at her son with love and fear both, and yet, she couldn’t help being proud of him. Like Michael, he was a man of honor and courage. She felt privileged to have loved them both.

  When he left for training at the police academy, she was truly alone. Or so she thought.

  Yes, in her personal life, she was very lonely.

  At Kate’s funeral, she and Mickey endured the looks and sideway glances of disapproval from the staff at Mainely Paws, as well as Kate’s family. No one even spoke to them. After giving their condolences, much to the relief of everyone there, they left. She knew they blamed her for what had happened. Hell, she blamed herself. She never went back to work.

  One night, at exactly two-fifteen a.m., she felt as if she were being watched. She awoke feeling disoriented, her brain still wrapped up in the cobwebs of sleep. She saw something, or perhaps just perceived it. She didn’t know which. The mirror, it wasn’t right somehow. She sat up straight in bed, leaning forward, her eyes squinting in the dark. What she saw in that glass made her jump out of bed as if it were on fire! Two glittering green eyes floated without any sign of a body, moving smoothly behind the glass surface!

  Then, the voice. “Glooooreeeee!” it called her name eerily, beckoning to her. “No! Go away! I have nothin’ left! Just, leave me alone!”

  “I’ll never leave you, Glory. Not like all the others. I will always be here. Just you and me, locked together…forever.” It laughed, the evil echo of it reverberating in her ears. She ran from the bedroom into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  She held onto the edge of the sink, face down, trying to get her breathing under control. Turning the knob for cold water, she splashed her face and on the back of her neck. It helped. She inhaled a deep breath, looked up into the mirror and, with a jolt, backed away from it. The Reaper was standing right behind her, his image mirrored along with her own. From sheer instinct, she backed away from it. Into…nothing! Nevertheless, the image remained in the mirror. Now, with the florescent light in the bathroom, he was completely incarnate! He was as real as she! His face was covered with the well-known black hood. Only the glowing green eyes and skeletal grin were visible. They were full of…life, animated even! He held the infamous scythe in his hand. A tool that normally had no sinister connotations, one she’d seen often on the many small farms and large yards in rural areas. It was used to cut grass, crops, and other plants by swinging the blade horizontally close to the ground. In other words, it was a Reaper. But this evil scythe was not used to reap any vegetation. No, this horrid tool was meant to tear down life itself!

  Raising the scythe high in the air, he swung it! It made a terrifying whooshing sound in the air. A hand, palm up, the bony fingers exposed, reached out to her. Defying the very laws of physics, the forearm and hand of the creature had escaped the confines of the mirror and hovered over the sink.

  “Take my hand, Glory. Do not fear me,” it said in a wistful, almost sorrowful voice. Surely, it was a cruel trick! This thing meant her harm, she was sure of it.

  She could’ve sworn her feet were cemented to the very floor. She couldn’t move. The arm came out further now, within mere inches from her face! The stench of death assaulted her nostrils. The gleam of rotten, putrefied flesh, blood, bone, and tiss
ue—all of it was a shining nightmare.

  Turning, as if in slow motion now, she began to run from the room when it yanked her hair; her neck jerked back violently. In a blind panic, she held her hair taut, grabbing the scissors lying on the vanity. Twisting her arm in an unnatural position, she cut away her hair; cut and cut in a crazed frenzy, until finally, she broke loose of the Reaper’s grip.

  Not bothering to look back, she ran. But where could she go, really? Olivia’s room! She ran in and closed and locked the door. She sat on his bed, shaking all over, her hair in ruins. The wheels in her head were turning. Could she hide from this thing forever? Or was it a futile battle? After all, her opponent was much stronger than she. That much was certain. Whatever strength she had lay in her character, the core of her soul. She needed to dig deep, very deep to find it. At this point, she prayed to God for help, not really expecting any, praying to what she believed to be a non-existent entity.

  “Hello, my love.” Again, the soft, almost seductive voice. It was coming from the corner where a full length antique mirror sat kitty corner against the wall.

  An involuntary gasp escaped her lips as she looked upon the Grim Reaper in its entirety.

  The black hood and the long length of its jet black cape shimmered with an ethereal glow. The arms of the thing were covered to the very wrists. Only those two bony hands holding the scythe up against its middle were visible. The scene was all the more surreal, ominous, and yet…beautiful somehow, as the long robes billowed as if touched by an unseen breeze. The face was hidden as it always had been in the many pictures and portraits done by artists over the years. It was as if an unwritten rule applied to this mythical creature; a rule that forbade human beings from seeing the true face of death, or from glimpsing into the future. It could only be seen when the Reaper came for you. For Glory, he’d always been more than a myth!