by Carrie Lange
Black and injured, it was a human hand.
Scuffed and muted red splashes of color on the tips of swollen fingers.
Found you.
Another little slip of paper.
“1,562 – left foot, red nail polish.”
They were putting a person back together.
Anne found 2,784’s left foot and other hand. Someone loved 2,784 enough to know what color nail polish she wore.
She sorted through them all – hands, feet, ribs, teeth, elbows, flesh.
She knew who was married because their left ring finger was missing.
When she found them, she sent them away from that dark, wet, cold place where they were kept in bags and the stench consumed her.
Death settled into her every pore, stood before her in every moment, grinned and blew its rancid breath in her face.
Sometimes, Anne came off the truck and wrapped their wounded black flesh in soft white cotton. They were warm in the gymnasium and she laid them on the cushion of the coffin. The jagged edges smoothed.
Thank you, they said to her.
Most of them were buried together, unidentified. The coffins full of pretty white packages. And with them went a little slip of paper.
“I did not know you, but I loved you.”
Now she was twenty-nine. Another dead body, another broken heart. Another voice whispering in her ear. The shroud of Death, her companion. Had it been the one with her, all those years ago? Her imaginary friend who had whispered to her in the language only a child can understand?
As a child, she had played with it, had no fear of it, and kept it a secret. As she grew, it had visited her less and less, until finally it was gone. She had assumed she had merely outgrown her imaginary friend, but now she wasn’t so sure. Perhaps it had never left her side after all. Had it changed its face, its voice, its name?
Was it named Rale?
Always, it had whispered to her.
Come with me, come with me.
But how could she?
The gun. The answer to her life.
Death. The answer to all their lives.
She had been preparing for this moment, and Dan had shown her the way. But first she had to get the gun. That was the next step. It was right beside her, inches away from her hand which rested gently on the floor beside Sean’s bed. She knew it was only a matter of time before she went for it. But would she use it? Or would she take it home with her?
Home. She could take it home…
Where her daughter would be––
“Enough!” she yelled.
She crawled to the bed and reached under, friction warming her hand as it slid back and forth over the carpet.
Zap! A static shock zinged her fingers as they touched cold metal and curled around the barrel.
The darkness grew paler and the heaviness lifted. An effervescent pressure built up. Her lungs tingled, her heart raced, and the corners of her lips rose up in a smile. Panting, she giggled.
Rale touched her hand. Pale skin, somehow dark, reached under hers and sapped the warmth, but also the pain. Like withdrawing a dagger from her heart, the pain broke free, released in a torrent that carried her life force away.
It pulled her toward Rale and he touched her face with his other hand. Liquid ice poured over her. The dark energy of her spirit flowed toward him. His watery eyes looked back at her and in that moment he was real.
“Rale, I miss him so much.”
A silvery tear fell from Rale’s eye. “I know.”
He gripped her hand, and together, their arms rose up until the barrel of the gun was beside her temple.
Rale nodded his head once. “Let go.”
Cold metal touched her skin and she flinched. As Rale absorbed her weakness, a new strength grew within her. Her finger found the trigger and everything fell away.
She felt what Dan had felt.
And she understood.
And she was free.
Chapter 36
Panic, as wild and hot as fire, burned through Dan’s spirit as he watched Anne get the gun from under the bed. It boiled inside his chest and a scream tore its way up his throat. Lips pursing, he stifled the approaching shriek as desperate tears, born of sheer helplessness, sprang from his eyes. His fingers curled into claws and he grabbed Tar by the shoulders and shook. “Do something!”
Tar slipped away and reappeared on the other side of Dan, his own eyes blazing. “Rale. Stop.”
Rale either did not hear, or did not care.
Anne’s hand came up and placed the gun to her head.
Something seemed to snap inside Tar. “Not again!” he shouted, his spirit growing as light as Rale’s spirit was dark.
The cold shadow that surrounded Anne seared away as Tar knelt close to her, reached through it, and touched her face.
~~~~~
Anne closed her eyes and increased the pressure on the trigger.
A white light flashed over her eyelids and she hesitated. The front door had opened, letting in the brilliance of the sun.
Tar stood in the doorway and smiled at her. Then, his image shimmered and morphed into Sean.
A look of horror slid quietly over Sean’s face as he looked down at something heaped on the floor. Walking over to it, he sank to his knees and covered it with his body. Cradled in his hands, Anne’s bloody, lifeless face stared up at him, her fingers still clutching his gun.
Tears rolled down his face. His body shuddered. He screamed.
Anne opened her eyes. The vision faded in the black solitude of the apartment.
She quickly removed the gun from her head and looked at it as though it were a viper in her hand.
“My God,” she whispered, putting it down on the floor beside her.
She had given even less consideration to Sean than Dan had given to her. At least Dan had been four hundred miles away. She had almost killed herself in Sean’s apartment, with his gun. He would have walked in and found her, just as she had seen a moment ago.
Anne shivered, thankful for the last moment vision that had saved her.
Strange that I imagined seeing Tar at first.
~~~~~
Tar sighed, removing his hand from Anne’s face. Tears welled in his eyes and threatened to spill over. Rale inclined his head slightly toward Tar and let go of Anne’s hand. Dan, gasping and whimpering his thanks, reached out to Tar, but Tar recoiled and disappeared in a grey, misty haze before the first tear fell.
Dan was left staring at his outstretched hand.
Anne returned the gun to its hiding place, and collapsed on the bed sobbing.
What had passed from Tar to her was a mystery, but Dan understood that somehow Tar had saved her.
Cold relief gave way to burning anger. Lip trembling, he pointed at Rale who still sat on the floor. “I don’t care what Tar says, you are a demon. Pure evil. There is nothing good in you.”
Rale frowned and nodded his head. “Perhaps.” He stood and walked over to Dan. “But things aren’t always what they seem. I heard what Tar said about me that day on your friend’s porch. He said a lot of things, but the funny thing is, he wasn’t talking about me. He was talking about himself.”
Dan had been prepared to continue accusing Rale, but he now thought back to that day on Rick’s porch.
Rale sat on the couch and gave a heavy sigh. “Tar is the one punishing himself, not I. Something else punishes me. It holds me here against my will and my spirit has grown dark because of it. Tar chooses to stay. I knew him when he was alive, and I watched him die. I know all his secrets. He’s the one who can’t forgive himself…or anyone else. He’s the one who won’t let go.”
Dan shook his head. “No, that’s not true. Tar’s been to real Heaven. He was going to take me there.”
Rale looked down at his hands. “He’s never been to those shores, only looked upon it, across the waters of his shame.”
What exactly, Dan wondered, was Rale saying? His eyes narrowed as he looked at Rale. “Why
does Tar punish himself? What is it he can’t forgive himself for?”
Silence.
Most likely, Rale was lying. One thing was certain. Rale was an evil spirit. Haunting her. Leading her. Destroying her. Had he destroyed Tar as well? “You knew Tar when he was alive? How?”
Rale stood and turned away from Dan. “Oh, I knew him all right. He hasn’t told you, has he? I was alive with Tar…so long ago...Tar would say that I killed him.” Rale turned back toward Dan and looked at him, perhaps wanting to see his reaction. “Does that shock you?”
Dan shrugged nonchalantly as he gritted his teeth, trying to mask his stark surprise.
Don’t give the bastard the satisfaction.
“No,” he replied and cleared his dry throat. “I already figured you were a murderer, anyway.”
With a slight nod, Rale turned away again and moved to the other side of the room. He began examining the small metal figurines on the bookshelf. “But that’s not true. It’s not my fault Tar died. It was his own fault…If he hadn’t…”
The words trailed off and Rale closed his eyes, and sighed one of those deep sighs that means a person has searched and searched, and is tired of trying to find the right words.
Dan smirked. “Are you trying to convince me, or yourself of that? What really happened, Rale?”
When Rale heard his name, he froze and turned to face Dan once more, a pained look on his face. “You’ll have to ask Tar.”
Dan clenched his jaw. “Gah, what is it with you two? Why can’t anything ever be a simple answer? Anyway, Anne has nothing to do with either of you, why do you torment her?”
Rale came closer. Dan instinctively took a step back as he approached. Rale held his hands up in surrender and stopped a few feet away. “I will give you a simple answer. I do not torment her. She is a tormented spirit, as am I. I am drawn to her because our spirits are alike - dark, full of grief…shame…despair. I do not cause her pain. I take it from her. It nourishes my spirit because nothing else can. As you say, there is no good in me. That was taken from me long ago.”
Confused, Dan looked down at the floor trying to sort out what Rale was saying. Rale bent his head down to catch Dan’s gaze. He raised his eyebrows slightly as if to encourage Dan in his musings. Dan’s lips parted, but quickly closed again.
Rale’s eyebrows dropped in resignation. “Why do you fail to see that which is so obvious?” He pointed at Dan. “You cause her pain. You brought this down upon her.” He dropped his hand and shrugged. “I am only taking the pain that you have given her. You want me to leave her alone? If I did that, then she would be utterly alone.”
Palms up, Rale held his hands out and gestured to the empty room. “Look around her. Everyone has deserted her. You left her...why did you do that?”
Rale closed his eyes for a few moments, and when he opened them again, he looked at Dan with eyes that pierced all the layers of bullshit Dan had built around himself and saw into the heart within.
He smiled.
Dan saw a certain kind of understanding in that smile, as though something important had just fallen into place.
Fuck.
“You wanted this.” Rale’s smile was joined by a little nod of the head. “Yes, you wanted her to suffer. Just a little bit.”
“You’re so full of shit, Rale.”
“It’s all right, I understand why you did. You gave her signs, and she was supposed to save you. If she loved you she wouldn’t have left you alone at her apartment. Jesus fucking Christ, Dan. You almost killed yourself three weeks before. Why would she leave you like that? To go to work? Her job was more important than your life?”
“Shut up.” Dan bit his lower lip, body shaking with rage.
Rale came closer. A cold breath of air rustled around Dan’s spirit. “That kiss in the parking lot. That was it, wasn’t it? The last kiss. It should have kept her. That’s how it always works in the movies. And she just toddled away like it was nothing.”
Dan ground his teeth. “That’s not true, Rale. Stop it!” Dark spots of fury floated before his eyes.
“It is true, and you know it,” Rale spat at him. “She disappointed you. She should have known. And you wanted her to suffer.” Rale leaned in close to Dan and whispered. “You would show them all, wouldn’t you? They would be sorry.” Rale leaned back, his voice dripping with derision. “And they are sorry now, aren’t they?”
The dark spots grew larger and fused together until all was blackness. A shrill ringing screamed in his ears. Trembling hands reached up and held his head which swam dizzily through a haze of fury and stark contrition.
Everything Rale said was true. In the fog of depression, he had believed he was giving her signs. She was supposed to see his signs and save him. When she didn’t, it meant she didn’t love him. Like a spoiled, temperamental child who hadn’t gotten his way, he had snapped. She would be sorry, he told himself. After he was dead, she would realize how much she loved him, and she would feel guilty for not saving him. And now, he was killing her as well. He sank to his knees, head bowed, and let the tears fall.
Rale looked down on him with what might have been pity. “Everyone has left her, except me. Her pain discomforts them. Sean will try to help her, but ultimately, he wants what she can’t give him. No one understands her pain. But I do. And I will not leave her unless she tells me to go.”
Anne’s sleepy voice whispered in the next room. “Rale, are you here?”
Dan looked at Rale’s watery form through the tears in his eyes. Rale turned his back on him and walked into the bedroom. “I’m here.”
Part 3
Hope.
It’s a quiet emotion. You hardly even notice its existence until it’s gone. There are a few moments, however, when it makes its presence acutely known.
Anticipation. Longing. Fear.
When you are afraid, really afraid, then the only thing you have to hold onto is hope. When you lose hope, fear destroys you.
People often say something is hopeless, but rarely do they actually believe it. I think there’s a direct relationship there. The more hopeless the cause, the more hope grows in a person’s heart.
Before I lost my hope, it never mattered how depressed, or angry, or agitated, or even how afraid I became. I fought and struggled to make my life better.
Because I had hope.
I had the quiet, day to day kind of hope that isn’t even noticed. It’s such an unassuming emotion, that when it left me, I didn’t even realize that it had gone. And I struggled to understand what was happening to me. I didn’t know why I was losing control, why I was so afraid, why I was so lonely even with Anne at my side.
Fear isn’t the worst thing a person can feel, nor is loneliness. They are bearable if a person has hope.
After I died, I heard someone say, “Why did he kill himself? He had everything, a good job, good car, good woman, he was young and healthy.”
None of them understood that when a person loses hope, they have nothing.
What I didn’t understand is that the one thing I still had meant hope.
Life is hope.
If we have nothing left but life, then we have hope.
The one thing in that crazy world that we must hold onto, and sink our teeth into, and our claws into, and never let go.
~ Dan
Chapter 37
When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew.
~ William Shakespeare
~~~~~
Sean’s heart crashed to the floor where he was fairly certain something was now jumping up and down on it. It was fluttering nervously and he brought his hand up for one quick smack onto his chest.
He shook his head and took a deep breath.
Thirteen years he had known Anne, they were no longer kids. All the façades of youth long past them. They had ups and down and they had broken each other’s hearts many times, but Sean had never been at a loss for words. Words had always been his ally. His sharp intellect and even s
harper tongue had left many dizzy and speechless with uncertainty. The words never failed him.
Until now.
“I just thought I should tell you what happened today,” Anne said, “and you know, you might want to hide your gun.”
The color drained from Sean’s face. How could I have been so stupid?
The vision of walking in the door and finding her crumpled, lifeless body in a pool of blood, holding his gun, flashed before his eyes. Spots danced in the vision as more of the blood from his head raced to his tight muscles which pulled back like springs.
Anne looked up at him, dark circles under red puffy eyes. Thin anyway, she now was gaunt. Her clothes hung on her and she had to keep pulling her jeans and socks up. “I’m sorry.”
Sean closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying through force of will to relax his muscles. Words were not needed now. He retrieved the gun from under the bed and took it next door to his father’s bar. There, he placed it in the large combination safe that was cemented into the floor. When he returned, he sat beside her on the couch and reached out to her, but she recoiled from his touch.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just thought you needed a hug.”
“I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.
She started to rise, but Sean reached out and caught her forearm. “Hey, wait. Don’t go. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be here.”
Anne relaxed and looked down at her hands. “I’m just being a burden on you.”
Sean wasn’t sure how to proceed. His heart ached for her. “Anne, you aren’t a burden on me. I…” I what? What do I say? Think, Sean! Say something!
Anne looked up, her watery blue eyes shimmering with tears. She snuffled and dragged the back of her hand across her nose, her voice trembling slightly. “Wha-what?”
Every muscle in his body wanted to take her in his arms and pull her close to him, and protect her from all the agony and suffering in this cruel world. The words came to him now and he wanted to shout them, I love you. And I love Alexandra. And I will never leave you like he did.
It was his turn to look down at his hands. “Anne...I...I still love you. I know how much you loved Dan, and I know it’s going to take a long time for you to get over this. But, I can take care of you until you do. I got a promotion at work. It came with a raise. And also, I signed up for college, can you believe it? I’m starting classes next month. I’m leaving this dump, Anne. I’m moving up north to a nice apartment. You could…come with me. I…I’ll protect you.”