Sing for Me

by Penelope Reece

  Having shared an apartment for a year, Chloe had regrettably learned that Heather’s favorite pastime was whining and complaining over, well pretty much, everything.

  Chloe prayed that when Heather confessed, Jett would be happy and confess that he felt the same. Otherwise, Chloe would be forced to suffer through the pain of Heather’s broken heart.

  A little further on, the path careened to the right and the trees opened up revealing the large overgrown cemetery. As Chloe got closer, she could see just how old the place was.

  Weeds hid cracked and faded tombstones, while untended shrubbery embraced burial crypts with their prickly limbs. Here and there tombstones were leaning or had fallen back onto the grass. Some tombstones stood broken, their missing pieces nowhere in sight.

  Had the pieces been cleared away or stolen? Perhaps the ground had swallowed them up. Moss grew on many turning the once pretty limestone dark green and brown. It was as if the ground were actually trying to rise up and engulf the place.

  Even the church’s stone walls stood covered in moss and climbing ivy. A few vines grew in and out of a partially broken window near the rotting front door. The stained glass windows that Delta Gamma believed to glow in the night were blackened by grime and soot. Chloe wondered if there had been a fire at one time or if it were caused by the prolonged use of a large fireplace.

  In the middle of the cemetery near the church there was a statue of a woman, probably of the Virgin Mary. But that was only a guess because the head was missing. It had probably been broken off in an act of violent thievery. Somewhere, someone probably had a stone female head sitting on their coffee table. The perfect conversation started.

  On the other side of the front door, a little ways down, was another statue. This one was an angel dressed in thick robes and wavy hair. Its palms were up, arms bent, and head bowed as if asking for God’s blessings or forgiveness.

  As Chloe wandered through the cemetery, her eyes trailed sadly along the illegible epitaphs, until a tiny bit of violet caught her eye. Bending down, Chloe parted a few weeds and saw a tiny purple flower struggling to grow amid the overpowering weeds near the head of a tombstone.

  The words on the headstone were faint but legible.

  Here lies Mary Elizabeth dear child and forever angel.

  1921-1926

  It was a child’s grave. Mary Elizabeth had been only five years old when she’d died. She’d been loved once. Now she lay forgotten. Her parents long dead. Even the earth seemed to have forgotten or no longer cared. Instead it was trying to conceal this place, and this child.

  Biting the inside of her cheek, Chloe wondered if anyone ever came here to visit the dead. The place was so old that all and any close relatives were probably all gone as well. It must be horrible lying there under dirt and rock forever lost without a soul to visit or care.

  As she stared at the tombstone, Chloe was reminded of another grave equally abandoned. Would it be as overgrown as this one? She hoped not. Her father didn’t deserve that.

  It had been almost four years since she’d last visited her father’s grave. And the guilt was almost too much for her to stand. She’d just turned sixteen when he’d finally succumbed to lung cancer. Right before he’d passed away her father had made her promise that she’d visit his grave often so that he’d never feel alone.

  Chloe tugged at the weeds in front of Mary Elizabeth’s grave ripping them out of the ground. Is this how your grave looks daddy?

  Tears welled in her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks at any moment. How could she have spent these past few years not even thinking about her father or that there was no one to visit him?

  Unlike here, the cemetery in New York would have a lawn crew to take care of the grounds. But even still, he, like this poor baby, must be so lonely.

  Chloe ripped at another weed, trying to allow that tiny little flower to get some sunlight. It wouldn’t be so bad if her mother visited, but Chloe knew the woman was much too busy with her own life to visit her dead husband.

  Reaching out, Chloe touched the headstone as if it were her father’s. Daddy, I’ll be back to visit you someday. Please don’t give up on me.

  “Chloe what are you doing?”

  Chloe quickly wiped at her eyes before looking up at Heather and Jett. Realizing she still held a clump of weeds in her hand, she tossed them aside and stood up. As she did so, she brushed the dirt from her jeans. “It was just too sad seeing this little flower fighting to survive among all these weeds.” She pointed at the headstone as if to better explain. “A baby is buried here.”

  “Right, so if you’re done landscaping let’s go eat. I’m starving.” Heather said and rubbed her flat stomach.

  Jett patted Chloe’s shoulder as if to say you’re crazy but I understand.

  “Since Chloe cleared a nice little spot, shall we set up here?” Heather asked and sat her bag down on the ground.

  “Not on her grave!” Chloe snatched the bag up. “We can’t eat our lunch here. It’s not appropriate.”

  “Chloe’s right.” Jett said and took the bag out of her hand. “There’s a log just outside the gates there beneath the trees, why don’t we eat there?”

  Chloe nodded and gave Jett an appreciative smile, grateful that he at least had some respect for the dead.

  Heather on the other hand just shrugged and headed for the trees.

  Chloe followed her over to the log as Jett brought up the rear. She’d been nervous about coming here afraid that the place would be creepy. But now as she gazed back at the desolate place, its inhabitants lonely and forgotten, Chloe felt an overwhelming sadness, for her father, and for everyone else that time forgot.

  As she helped her friends lay out the blanket and food, Chloe didn’t feel in the mood to go ghost hunting. She was such an idiot. How could she have agreed to any of this? It was bordering on blasphemy. Nobody ever thought about the actual people buried in this cemetery. To most of the students this place was full of nothing but rotting corpses rising from the grave to feast on the living and spirits that oozed plasma.

  Before she bit into her sandwich, Chloe said a prayer for the souls of all those people who at one time had lived, loved, and lost, and that they would forgive her. She added the last part for her father in the hopes that God would pass on the message.

  Chapter Two

  “So I am taking music composition.” Heather said wadding up her subway sandwich wrapper and opening her small bag of potato chips.

  “Is that with Professor Davis? He’s great. I had him for music comp. and theory.” Jett said and opened his bottle of iced tea to take a drink.

  “Davis? No, I’m pretty sure my schedule said something else.” Heather was silent a moment trying to think.

  Chloe wadded up her own trash and tossed it inside the empty cooler and started cleaning up her friends’ discarded wrappers only half listening to her friends, when Heather said a name she recognized. Chloe’s hand stopped an inch away from Heather’s banana peel.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said I’m pretty sure my comp professor is some guy named Ryther.”

  “William Ryther? That can’t be right. He and Josie are going out of town.” Chloe frowned at her friends’ confused expressions. “That’s Josie’s husband. I thought I told you that.” She turned to Jett, “You’ve probably heard of him, Jett, he’s a pretty famous Broadway producer.”

  “You don’t mean Bill Ryther? Heck yeah, I’ve heard of him. I didn’t know he was living here though.” He nodded his head, his body abuzz with excitement. “Wow, so him and Josie huh? That’s pretty cool. When they get back, do you think you could introduce me? I mean maybe after graduation he’d let me audition for him.”

  “I can try.” Chloe said trying to be polite. Bill didn’t really like her, so Josie had kept their friendship secret. In fact, Chloe wasn’t all that sure that Bill even knew she was here attending school. “But I’m not entirely sure when they’ll be back. They’re hea
ding over to Ohio so that Josie can be with her family. She plans to stay there until the baby’s born.”

  “How far along is she?” Heather asked wiping a greasy hand on her jean shorts.

  “She’s entering month nine now. So it shouldn’t be too long until the baby comes. But they’ll probably stay with her parents for a while until Josie’s back on her feet.”

  “That’s cool.” Heather took a drink of soda. “Anyway, what were we talking about?”

  “You said your professor’s name was Ryther.” Jett offered.

  “Right. Anyway, I’m pretty sure his name’s Ryther -”

  “But that’s not possible because they’re leaving.” Chloe said cutting her off. “And last time I checked, Bill was much too busy to teach a class.”

  “Then maybe it was a mistake. I don’t know. Maybe there’s another Ryther. I think his first name started with an r. Oh what was it? R. Ryther.”

  Chloe leaned forward on her knees. Surely it couldn’t be? Josie would have told her. “It isn’t Rhys Ryther, is it?”

  Heather snapped her fingers. “That’s it.”

  “Do you know him?” Jett asked.

  Chloe nodded. “He’s a composer and Bill’s younger brother.” Why didn’t Josie tell me? “But I thought he was living out in California.”

  “Well I guess he’s moved here, since he’s teaching. Though I wonder why he’s taken over Davis’ class. Davis isn’t old enough to retire.” Jett was quiet a moment then shrugged. “So what other classes are you taking Heather?”

  While Heather listed off her classes and revealed that she was going to start taking singing lessons, Chloe pulled her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and sent Josie a text message asking her why she’d never mentioned that Rhys was here.

  Josie knew everything about Chloe’s past and that included her feelings for Josie’s brother-in-law. While Chloe waited for a response, she pictured how Rhys had looked two years ago. He’d been in his middle twenties then – twenty-three if she remembered correctly – which was a bit older than her eighteen. Chloe hadn’t cared about that.

  Everyone had always said she was mature for her age. And she had to be when living with an immature and selfish mother. Sophie’s selfishness had only gotten worse after Chloe’s father had passed.

  Even though Rhys was five years older than her, it hadn’t bothered either of them. Chloe’s father had been at least 10 years older than her mother. And they’d married when her mother was twenty-four and pregnant with her, which was probably the only reason her father had agreed to marry her mother in the first place.

  Chloe did not want to think about her mother. Instead, she let her mind drift back to Rhys.

  With his long auburn hair, stormy grey eyes, and easy smile, he’d been her dream man. She could still remember the way he would tease her and make her laugh. After a hard day, he’d always find a way to cheer her up. So it wasn’t any wonder that she’d developed a crush on him. Don’t kid yourself! It had been more than a crush. You loved him.

  But that didn’t matter anymore. It just wasn’t meant to be. If it had been, then he’d never have broken her heart then run away.

  After months of hearing nothing except for the little blurbs she’d get from Josie, it seemed that Rhys had moved on with his life. If only she’d had the courage to call him, then maybe she’d have learned why he’d left her. But she’d chickened out. After all, He’d dumped her. If she called him, she’d end up looking like some pathetic loser.

  Sighing at the memories, Chloe idly kept checking her phone for Josie’s reply as she listened to her friends talk about their course progress and how Heather was planning on changing her drama major to musical theatre just like Jett.

  Inside the gates, shadows had begun to appear out along the grounds. Their slender bodies stretching out over tombstones as the sun began its slow pinkish decent below the horizon. Soon the ghosts would awake, and Heather’s plan would be set in motion.

  ****

  “Rhys, would you be a dear and see who texted me? I gotta take this suitcase to the car.”

  “Sure.” Rhys said grabbing Josie’s phone off the circular table in the foyer. “What’s your password?”

  Josie opened the front door and tried to set her luggage outside while trying to bend over her protruding belly. With a grunt she turned to Rhys and replied. “It’s my and Bill’s anniversary. Zero, four, zero, nine.”

  “Okay got it,” Rhys said and punched in the numbers. Frowning, he watched Josie try to lug another bag to the door. “Why don’t you let me help you? You shouldn’t be doing that by yourself.”

  Josie held up a hand. “You come over here and I’ll kick you. I am getting so tired of everyone telling me to take it easy. For eight months, I’ve taken it easy.” She glared at him when he opened his mouth to protest. “I need some exercise damn it. If not, then when the baby comes, I’m going to be one of those fat mothers. So just leave me be and check my phone.”

  Rhys held up his hands in defeat. He didn’t want to get into an argument, not when opponent was eight months pregnant and on the war path. He would just let Bill help her, which by the sounds of the Josie’s hellish screaming outside, Rhys was sure that’s what Bill was trying to do.

  Rhys walked over to the window and cringed when he saw Bill take a hard kick to the shins. Yep, Josie was definitely on the war path today.

  Rhys closed the curtain in wonder. How could a sweet and loving woman like Josie become so ill tempered and downright hostile? If this is what pregnancy did to women, Rhys wasn’t planning on having kids anytime soon. Of course, he’d have to get married first, and he had no intention of that either. No, he’d just sooner protect his shins and remain single.

  Speaking of protecting his shins, he’d better see to that text message before Josie came back in and got angry at him for ignoring her request. Rhys clicked on the unread text and was surprised to see the name of the sender. Chloe. It couldn’t be her could it? She was supposed to still be in New York and as far as he knew wasn’t big on keeping in touch. Not that he’d expected her to or anything.

  Even if she did have his number. Why would she call him anyway? They weren’t together anymore. A part of him had hoped she’d call. Rhys rolled his eyes at his own immaturity. It was a long time ago and past time he got over it.

  Why would she be texting Josie? Curious now, his eyes skimmed over the text. Hey, what is this I hear about Rhys teaching here?

  His eyes focused on that one word “here.” Why would she write “here”? Did that mean she was here in Marion? Chloe was here. Here meaning here. Rhys felt his pulse quicken. What was she doing here?

  Rhys wondered if she’d still look the same. She’d been so beautiful with her alabaster skin, long black hair, and forest green eyes that even a park ranger could get lost in. She’d been like a porcelain doll.

  He knew he shouldn’t want to see her, not after the way they’d parted but if this was his Chloe and she was here, he deserved to know, if for no other reason than to know how she was doing.

  He read the message again while fighting with his mouth muscles. His lips wavered a minute before pulling up into a grin. In the text message she’d asked about him. Obviously that meant something.

  At the sound of the front door opening, Rhys waited for Josie to come inside. Bill entered first, limping and looking defeated.

  “She couldn’t have kicked you that hard? Suck it up big brother.”

  Bill scowled. “You’d be surprised just how strong she’s gotten.”

  Rhys laughed. “Maybe you should stop trying so hard to take care of her?”

  “Are you crazy? I can’t do that. She’ll think I don’t care about her. A weeping Josie is much worse, believe me.” He grabbed another suitcase. “Besides I love her, shin kicks and all.”

  As Bill headed toward the door, Josie waddled in. They both stopped at the threshold, Bill looking cowed and Josie looking devious. But as they passed one another, Josie
squeezed his hand and Bill smiled. He then leaned down and kissed her before carting the suitcase out the door.

  Watching that little scene, Rhys felt slightly jealous of his elder brother. Maybe marriage wasn’t such a bad thing. He’d just have to find someone as crazy and great as Josie. Though personally, he could do without the abuse to his shins.

  Josie moved over next to him and grabbed her phone out of his hand. “So who sent me a text?”

  “Chloe.”

  As soon as the name left his lips Josie’s face colored a little and she looked away refusing to meet his gaze. “Oh… so what did she say?”

  “She asked about me.” Rhys said and crossed his arms patiently waiting for her to explain. When she muttered “I see” and began to climb the stairs, he called her back. “Josie, why is Chloe texting you about me?”

  Groaning, Josie turned and slowly walked back down. “Let’s go talk in the living room. Suddenly I’m feeling a little tired.”

  Rhys motioned for her to lead the way in case she decided to bolt. Once they were seated in the living room, Josie resting in the big gray wingback chair with her feet propped up on a leather footstool and Rhys sitting stiffly on the edge of the sofa, Josie looked him in the eye. “Chloe moved here a year ago and is a student at the University.”

  “A year ago? A year ago, you said you didn’t know where she was.” Josie abashedly glanced down at her swollen feet and said nothing. “Why is she attending this university and not one in New York? I mean her own mother is now a teacher at Julliard.”

  Josie licked her lips. “Chloe wanted a change, so I suggested here. Plus, Bill had just bought this house, and I thought it’d be nice to have a friend here.”

  Rhys rubbed his chin a bit too roughly. Josie was lying to him. “When did you and Chloe become friends? I don’t recall the two of you being chummy. In fact, if I remember correctly you had a strong negative opinion of her.”

  Josie’s head shot up and she glared at him. “What’s with the third degree Rhys? Opinions can change. Chloe and I became great friends. You just weren’t there to notice.”