“Nightmares.” Nick interrupted.
Sarah shook her head no. “Visions.”
“Visions?”
“Yes.” She looked at Nick waiting to see if she should go on. Searching for that look- that look telling her that he did in fact think that she was insane. She’d seen it before, that look. Like the time in the 6th grade when she’d told Miss Rathmusin shortly after 4rth period music class. Or the time her sophomore year of high school when she thought she should open up to Charlie Wells, the first boy she ever slept with. But there was no such look on Nick’s face. Not at all, in fact, Nick nodded for her to continue.
“The visions aren’t always good,” Sarah continued. Some nights, dark things hide in the corners of my dreams. These pills get me through the night.”
“What can I do to help, Sarah?”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.” Nick replied firmly.
“Ok.” Sarah smiled with relief. “You can help me get to the bottom of this. Help me figure out what she’s trying to show me.” She stopped- again searching his face for any sort of judgement. “Be honest. Do you think I’m crazy?”
“No. I don’t. I believe you. You’ve been through a lot- too much. But I’m here now, and I’m going to protect you.”
Nick looked deep into Sarah’s eyes. It took her breath away. She caressed his face. This moment was far from the awkward moments earlier that night and the time for waiting was over. Sarah’s breathing hitched as she leaned in slowly and softly kissed Nick. He returned the kiss. It was sweet and gentle, and although it only lasted for a few moments, it was powerful. When their lips parted they both smiled.
“I’ve been waiting to do that all night”, Sarah whispered.
“Me too.” Nick whispered back. Sarah thought things might progress, but instead, Nick crawled into bed next to her and leaned back against the headboard. “Come here. You need to get some sleep, but we are going to do a lot more of that, Sarah” He pulled her to him. She rested her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.
“Thank you, Nick.”
“No thanks necessary.” He kissed the top of her head. She closed her eyes and drifted off into the most peaceful sleep she had had in years. Nick remained awake, his eyes lost in thought, as he held a sleeping Sarah in his arms.
Chapter 9
Lines of Grey
The next morning the sun was shining through the upstairs bedroom window. It was a new day and Sarah was still sleeping peacefully. She gradually opened her eyes and turned over to where Nick had been the night before. He wasn’t there, but in his place was a yellow flower and a note. Sarah first picked up the flower. She shook her head, smiling, as she recognized it from the small flower garden to the left of the gravel driveway out in front of the house. There was actually a small amount of fresh dirt on the bed sheet. She laughed at that and then picked up the note. Sarah read it.
Good morning. Didn’t want to wake you. Had to work today, I’ll be back tonight. You still owe me breakfast. -Nick.
She smelled the flower and a smile stretched across her face. Sarah rolled back to her pillow and laid on her back, re-reading the note and daydreaming of Nick. A moment later, she sat up with a start, but she was not afraid, no that wasn’t it- she was resolved. She swung her legs over the edge of the rickety queen guest bed and stretched her neck. It was time to get going.
There were things to tend to, oh yes, and the list was only growing by the day. She’d arrived in Nebraska with so many questions and curiosities that needed attention and to this point they’d all been neglected. It was so unlike her. She was usually the woman who took charge and got things done. God, for the last seven years, that’s all she’d done at work. And yet, here she was in a new town, a new state, and something had changed. Instead, and she was quick to admit to herself that it was the truth, she was letting herself be distracted by Mr. Nick Fielding.
Sarah picked up her phone from the small dusty night stand next to her bed. I really should do some cleaning, she thought, and then dialed Nick’s number. Before she reached the last number, however, she stopped, hung up the phone, and placed it back in the dusty outline she had pulled it from.
“Sorry, Nick,” she said out loud. “A girl’s gotta do some things for herself sometimes.”
Soon, she was headed out the front door with her keys jingling in her left hand. There was a chill in the air and the sky was grey, but only a small dusting of snow was visible on the grass. She bent down and raked her fingers through the frosted blades of grass and picked up a small handful of clean white snow. The cold felt good against her skin. She smiled. Maybe I’ll be able to make some snow angels soon. There were things to tend to first. Moments later, she hopped into her truck and headed down the dirt road towards town. After a good night's sleep it was time to do some exploring on her own.
●
Sarah pulled into the angled parking stall in front of the Homewood Public Library. She’d decided that this was a great jumping off point, plus she’d wanted to walk down the small town’s quaint Main Street ever since she’d first left L.A. It was something that she’d never done before, and she liked that.
The sign on the Library door read “closed.” Sarah looked again and found another sign that said they’d be opening up at 10am that day. She looked at her phone. It was 9am.
“I guess I have time for some coffee then.” She said with a smile.
Sarah strolled down Main Street, taking in all the signs and window shopping some of the local spots. The buildings were all of a similar old-brick design, with one large paned window in the front and a number of small windows on the second floor. There was a drug store, Frank’s Barber Design, The Vet’s Club, the Flower Shop, and then she spotted the sign she’d needed to find, “Home Brew. Your Local Coffee Stop.”
“Perfect.” She said, and walked inside.
Immediately she was surrounded with the warm comforting aromas of fresh ground coffee beans, and the pleasant sounds of laughter and conversation. It was a stark contrast to what she’d experienced in the last few days. It made her long for her local coffee shop back home, and that made her think of her best friend, Emma. She missed her. Damn, I forgot to call her last night, Sarah’s scolded herself.
“Good morning, honey.” Greeted the round lady behind the counter. “What can I get ya?”
Sarah smiled and looked up at the large menu on the wall behind the woman. She was pleasantly surprised by the number of options on the menu. “I’ll just take a large coffee. But what am I smelling right now?”
The round woman laughed and turned toward the back counter. On top of the counter were six freshly baked pies. “I just pulled these babies out of the oven, honey. Would you like a slice?”
“For breakfast?” Sarah asked comically and then nodded her head yes.
“Apple or blueberry?”
“Apple please.”
“Ok, honey. One slice. Coming right up!”
●
Sarah sat at a small round table and looked out the window sipping her coffee. There was still almost half the slice of pie left, but she had forced herself to stop. The wind outside had noticeably picked up. Dead leaves whisked down the sidewalk and the street sign was wobbling to and fro.
“Is this seat taken?”
Sarah, visibly startled, turned from the window and found herself staring up at an elderly man in tan overalls and a Farmall Tractor cap. He was gesturing towards the empty seat at Sarah’s table.
“No. No, go right ahead. I was just about to leave.” Sarah replied.
“Well, don’t let me run you off. I just always sit here is all. It’s my spot.”
Sarah smiled at that and motioned for him to sit. The man smiled back and sat down. His eyes immediately went to the window as he brought his hot coffee to his lips and then cleared his throat. She thought he was about to say something, maybe ask her where she was from or what she was doing in Homewood, but he didn’t say a word. Sarah turned b
ack to the window herself. They both sat in silence like that for quite some time. Each watching the wind blow the leaves down the sidewalk, and following the random cars that crept up to the lone stop light down the street.
The man was the first to break the silence. “My name is Richard. Good morning.”
Sarah was again surprised by the interesting, old man. “Good morning. I’m Sarah. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Thanks for letting me sit down. My friends call me “Red” sometimes. But I’ve always just liked Richard.” He took a sip of his coffee, and then continued. “Sarah is a good name. There’s a lot in a name, ya know... coffee here is good.” Richard cleared his throat. “Would you like to go for a walk?”
Sarah had the distinct feeling that her new friend, Richard might have a case of ADD, but thought he was sweet nonetheless, and decided to join him for a walk. He seemed like someone who would know a lot about the town, and possibly, her family.
“That would be lovely,” she replied.
The little bell hanging on top of the door jingled as the two walked out of the coffee shop and into the cool whipping wind.
“Richard, did you know Elizabeth Bayard?”
Richard paused for a moment as if trying to remember some old, long lost story and then replied. “I knew her.” He said. “Yes.”
Sarah smiled. “What was she like?”
“Well that depends.”
“What do you mean? On what?”
“Well, do you mean Elizabeth Bayard, the pretty girl I went to high school with, the one who had so many friends, and we called Lizzy? Or the Elizabeth Bayard, the hermit, the one that disappeared and shut herself up in that damn house for years on end. The one the school kids called the Witch.”
Sarah stopped walking. “They called her a witch?”
Richard looked at Sarah and realized he’d said something wrong. “There was a song they used to sing... I’m sorry. Why are you asking me about her?”
“She was my aunt. I never met her.”
The elderly man looked away from Sarah for a moment and then looked down at the sidewalk. He seemed embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry for your loss. I thought you knew the stories. Didn’t realize you didn’t know. I didn’t know that you were family.”
Richard looked uncomfortable and confused. He slowly pulled a hanky out of his back pocket and blew his nose. “I should get going. Thanks for the walk, Sarah.” He folded his hanky and stuffed it back into his pocket. “I really don’t have much to say about your aunt. I hadn’t talked to her since high school. She was a nice girl. She just kept to herself when she got older.”
They both just stood there for a moment in awkward silence before Richard turned and walked away down the sidewalk. Sarah watched him slowly make his way back towards the little coffee shop. Something bothered her about the way he left. It was that little glimpse she’d caught in his eye before he turned away. It was the look of a child who’d just lied to his mother.
Sarah looked at her phone. The library should be open now, she thought, and started to walk in that direction before stopping to look into the large front window of a fabric store. It looked warm and cozy and inviting inside. It was an easy decision to get out of the cold wind.
The bells above the door announced her arrival, as a few heads popped up from behind the maze of colorful fabric rows to investigate. Their eyes all seemed to curiously take in the new girl in the room, quickly sizing her up and casting mental judgements; and then just as quickly returning to whatever craft was in front of them.
For a brief moment, Sarah wanted to head for the door and run away, far away, but something more powerful than the uncomfortableness she was currently feeling kept her from acting on that pleading urge. Sarah hated the feeling of all those eyes on her. She despised it, in fact. But there was something else going on in this little fabric and crafts store and Sarah needed to find out what. The feeling was strong here.
She gathered herself mentally, took a deep breath, and walked towards the back of the shop. Behind the rows of fabric and the small shelves displaying buttons, and zippers and things, there was an island of desks filled with sewing machines. It was strange, but it seemed to be calling to her. Sarah! It seemed to cry. You need to know. You need to understand. And you are close. You are so close!
Sarah reached out and touched the old Singer sewing machine. It was jet black and looked to be made out of iron. It was actually attached to the wooden table beneath it. Sarah’s hand moved along the vintage piece of machinery, before coming to a rest on a small latch. Her fingers twitched. Her eyes squinted for just a slight moment in time and then she flipped the latch. The sewing machine slowly spun out of sight beneath the table. Like a secret passageway. Her mind whispered.
“Elizabeth?!” A raspy voice cried from behind her.
Sarah felt ripped back to her present reality and spun to face the raspy voice. As her dark eyes regained their focus, she realized the old, bent over woman behind her was actually quite angry.
“Why haven’t you stopped by to see the boys? They miss you. They do. Isn’t right what you’re doing!”
Sarah was speechless.
“There’s a lot more to being a teacher than the tests of your life.” The old woman snapped.
Sarah swallowed hard. It hurt. It felt like her ribs were stuck behind each other, but she pushed through the uneasy, choking feeling and looked the woman straight in the eye. “My name is Sarah, ma’am.” It was all she could come up with.
The woman looked confused and then embarrassed. “Sarah? But, I…”
The woman put the back of her left hand up to her forehead like she was steadying herself against a dizzy spell. Then she suddenly reached out with the same hand and grabbed Sarah by the shirt collar. The sound of seems stretching and popping were audible in Sarah’s ears.
“You were wrong to make that choice, Elizabeth. I considered you a friend. But now... I hate you.” And with that the old woman spit in Sarah’s face.
Sarah felt the warm spital slowly run down her cheek. She was in shock. What the fuck lady?! Her mind yelled, but she said nothing. Her body was frozen.
The woman stared back at Sarah, stuck out her lower lip and slowly bit down on it with her teeth. It looked ridiculous and sad, all at the same time. Sarah, now slowly becoming aware of her appendages again, suddenly noticed that her right fist was clenched and ready to smash the old woman’s face. She took a deep breath and relaxed it. The old woman blinked hard and then turned and walked toward the back of the store. Sarah was left standing next to the island of sewing machines wondering what the hell just happened.
Another 5 minutes passed before she felt like she could even move again. What broke her trance was the sound of the bell from the store’s front door. An escape! Sarah thought and quickly ran to her freedom out the front door.
●
The library was cold. Sarah looked up and noticed she was sitting directly below the air vent. Good spot, Sarah. Her eyes scanned around the large room with high windows. Every vent was open. She got up and moved closer to the bean bag section.
The kids’ corner seemed familiar to her. She remembered visiting a library with her foster mother as a child. It had always seemed warm and safe. This, however did not. She took a long look around the room. It looked as though she was the only one there. The thought made her shiver and gooseflesh rose up on her arms. She slowly turned her head from side to side as if to tell herself “no” and at the same time shake the thought from her mind. There was work to be done, and she was the girl to do it.
The first look through the microfiche resulted in absolutely nothing, but on her second scroll through she saw something that made her wonder how she could have possibly missed it the first time.
Father of Three Gunned Down in His Own Kitchen
The newspaper headline was from October 17, 1965. She pushed her chair back from the glowing screen and pressed the palms of her h
ands against her eyes. The article described the murder of her Grandfather in the house she now was calling home. At least for now anyway, she thought and then her head started spinning and everything started to slip, and turn grey. She reached out toward the monitor with her left hand to steady herself. But the second her hand touched the screen her body seized backwards in her chair. Her hand, however, stuck to the lit screen like it was glued to the glass. From the outside it looked as though she was being electrocuted, but on the inside, Sarah was not in pain. She was dreaming.
She again found herself at the bottom of the stairs in the dark cellar. The air was heavy with must and dank, and made it hard for Sarah to breathe. She looked down at her legs and realized that from the waist down, she was soaking wet like she’d been wading in the river. Her bare feet were black with mud. From behind her, Sarah heard something move on the stairs, but when she tried to turn in that direction she found that she couldn’t move her legs. Her eyes however, strained in their sockets as far as they could go. She saw something stir in the shadows and then it was gone and her eyes instead came to rest on the odd little door in the middle of the far cellar wall. She again felt the urge to open it. The edges of the door glowed bright in the basement, and then it slowly started to open. Sarah shook with anticipation. Then the little door swung wide open. There was a blinding bright flash of light…
Sarah awoke and found herself once again in the library, slumped back in her chair, and staring up at the high ceiling.
Chapter 10
Time Slips Now
Sarah dropped her keys twice while trying to get into the house. By the time she finally got the front door open, she’d already decided what she needed to do. In the kitchen, she found a hammer and a flashlight inside a random junk drawer. It was time to finish exploring her house.
Sarah opened the door to the basement stairs. Her nostrils immediately filled with must and earth. Her dreams, the feeling, had been intensifying and it was time, she’d decided, to start listening instead of looking the other way. Sarah flicked on the lone light switch at the bottom of the steps. The electrical wires hung carelessly from the unfinished floor beams above her head. Her eyes were having a hard time adjusting, so she turned on the flashlight for help. The light traced along the cracked cinder block walls, washing away the shadows, and revealing the cobweb covered relics. Two rusted bicycles, a broken pump organ, and an artificial Christmas tree rested along the wall.
Peripheral Vision: A Supernatural Thriller Page 9