by Terri Reid
“What do we have here?” he asked. He knelt down and leaned over her. “So nice of you to drop in.”
He ran his hand across her cheek. “Very nice of you to drop in.”
Mary felt her stomach contract and the panic set in once again. She was trapped. “Please,” she cried. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I won’t hurt you,” he whispered, kneeling over her, “At least not much.”
“Mary,” Rosie screamed. “Help me.”
“She can’t help you, Rosie,” he taunted. “She can’t even help herself.”
Rosie needs me, she thought. Rosie’s in danger. I have to help Rosie.
She could hear Ian’s voice in her head. “You have to help yourself, darling, give him what for.”
Gary wasn’t going to win. She fought him last time and won. She could do it again.
Mary brought her knee up and crushed into his groin. He screamed in pain. She yelled with power.
She reached over and grabbed the piece of wood he used on her. He rolled on top of her and tried to wrestle it from her grasp. She fought against him, rolling on the concrete floor. She elbowed him in the solar plexus and he gasped in pain. She pulled the wood out of his hands and smashed it against his head.
He rolled away and pulled himself up on his feet. Breathing heavy, he ran at her.
“I’ll teach you to fight with me, bitch,” he screamed.
Mary rolled on her back, and feigned fear, while she brought her knees up towards her chest. When he got close enough, using both feet, she kicked up and out, catching him in the stomach and sending him crashing back into the dumpster.
She jumped to her feet, walked across the room and kicked him again.
“Walter, help me,” he cried out.
“No. No! I’m getting out of here,” Walter yelled, releasing Rosie and running in the opposite direction.
Undeterred from the object of her wrath, Mary grabbed a heavy piece of lumber from the dumpster. She swung it sideways with all her might and hit Ephraim in the shoulder. He screamed and tried to crawl away from her.
“Stop,” he shrieked. “I beg of you, stop.”
She walked over, straddled his body and glared down at him. “You are not going to hurt me again,’ she vowed. “You are never going to hurt anyone again.”
Then she lifted the piece of lumber over her head.
“Mary, stop,” Bradley said, putting his hand on the piece of wood. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”
Mary jerked to her side, ready to defend herself.
“Mary, it’s me, Bradley,” he said calmly. “You did it. You won.”
It took her a moment, but Bradley could see the moment she snapped out of her flashback. She released her grasp on the wood and stepped away from the man on the floor.
“Bradley, I...” she whispered, holding her hand over her mouth. “I thought he was Gary. I was fighting Gary.”
“Yeah, you did a hell of a job. Are you okay?”
She nodded slowly and then turned towards the stairs. “Rosie?”
Rosie was across the room in Stanley’s arms.
“Is she okay?” Mary asked.
“Yeah,” Bradley said, “Thanks to you.”
“Me?”
“You scared the hell of Walter,” Bradley said. “He came running out of the plant. Unfortunately for Walter, Stanley and Ian had just arrived. Stanley took Walter down with one punch to the jaw. He would have done more, but Ian held him back”
“Bradley, I went a little crazy,” she said. “I couldn’t let him win.”
“No, you couldn’t,” he said, pulling her into his arms and holding her while the paramedics took Ephraim away. “And you saved Rosie’s life.”
She put her head on his shoulder and then looked up. “Where are the kids?”
“I sent Ashley Deutsch over to wait for them,” he said. “She’s great with kids.”
She reached up and kissed him. “Thank you.”
“Ready to go home?” he asked. “I want you to get a good night’s sleep tonight.”
“Why?”
He grinned and kissed her softly. “You have a hot date tomorrow night,” he said.
She smiled, “That’s right; I don’t know how I could have forgotten. But we have one stop first.”
Chapter Forty-nine
School had just ended for the week. The janitors were making their ways down the halls, pushing their brooms and picking up the trash that had been left behind. A few teachers stood and spoke with each other in the hall, as Mary, Ian and Bradley made their way to the Chemistry lab.
“I still think Rosie should have come with us,” Mary said.
“All she wanted to do was go back to your place and clean up the mess on the floor,” Bradley said.
Mary looked up, alarmed.
“Don’t worry, Ashley and the kids already had it handled,” he reassured her. “They have orders to sit her down and get her a cup of tea.”
“Did you hear what she said about channeling you?” Ian asked. “She nearly had Walter down. I’m hoping it doesn’t ruin her.”
“And what do you mean by that?” she asked.
“Well, if she’s channeling you, will she still be able to bake?” he asked. “Aye, she’ll be the toughest real estate broker in the city, but really what’s more important?”
Bradley chuckled. “And what is more important, Ian?”
“We’ll have to pick up more flour on the way home,” Ian said, after a moment, “And perhaps a new canister.”
Chuckling, Mary shook her head at him. “Perhaps you ought to make some cookies for us,” she said. “Good Scottish shortbread.”
“I would, Mary, I really would,” Ian replied. “But I don’t want to hurt poor Rosie’s feelings.”
They let themselves into the Chemistry lab. Mary took Bradley’s hand and they waited for a moment until Charlie materialized.
“We wanted to let you know we found out Ephraim Brandlocker murdered you,” Mary said. “He placed a bomb under your desk and waited until the last student was out before he detonated it.”
“Aye, and your friend, Ross Gormley tried to tell the authorities years ago that it wasn’t an accident, but no one would listen,” Ian added. “He still put together an evidence trail that will help the officials put Ephraim away for a long time.”
Charlie shook his head. “That’s amazing,” he said. “Why would he do that?”
“Lo thought it was because you told him no,” she said. “You had the courage to stop him.”
“Well, thanks,” Charlie said. “Thanks for letting me know.”
Mary looked around. “Charlie, don’t you feel any differently?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Um, no, like what?”
“Like your unfinished business has been resolved,” Ian said.
“No. No, I feel pretty much like I felt for the past forty years or so,” he said. “Dead.”
“Well, there must be something else,” she said and then she smiled slowly. “That’s it.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“Don’t go away,” she said. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Really, Mary, I’m not planning on going anywhere.”
The next afternoon, the door to the Chemistry room opened and the small group made their way inside. They set up a small display at the front of the room and then waited.
“Is he here?” Lo asked.
Mary shook her head. “No, not yet.”
Stevo peered into the shadows at the back of the room. “I thought I saw something.”
Mary smiled. “No, really, nothing yet.”
“I know what will do it,” Rosie said, lighting a candle and placing it in the middle of the table.
Immediately a soft wind blew the candle out and most of the occupants of the room shivered. Mary watched Charlie materialize next to her. “I told you I’d be back,” she said. “Last night when we told you about Ephraim and you st
ayed, I realized perhaps you might still have some other unfinished business.”
She pointed to the other people in the room. “So we gathered a big group together to see what we could do about it. You might not recognize these people, but they are your former students Rosie Meriwether, Stevo Morris and Lo...”
“Lo Johnson,” she supplied. “I was never your student, but I will never forget what you did for me.”
He smiled. “I remember them all.”
“He remembers all of you,” Mary said.
“Coach, we just wanted to let you know how much...,” Stevo’s voice cracked and he wiped away a tear. “How much we loved you. How much you meant in our lives and how we never forgot you.”
Lo slipped her arm around Stevo and nodded. “We named our first son Charlie,” she said. “We bought him a Chemistry set when he was ten,” she giggled. “...and he nearly burned the house down.”
“Performs Chemistry like his father,” Charlie said.
Mary chuckled. “Charlie said your son performs Chemistry like his father.”
Stevo nodded. “Yeah, I taught him how to play ball,” he said. “He actually made the major leagues. I thought you’d be proud.”
Charlie nodded. “I am proud,” he whispered, “Proud of both of you.”
“He says he is very proud, of both of you.”
“Mary, can he hear what I’m saying?” Rosie asked, speaking very loudly.
Charlie shook his head and chuckled. “She hasn’t changed a bit.”
“Yes, he can hear you Rosie.”
“Coach Thorne, I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am for your example,” she said. “I might not have been the best scholar in the group. I certainly wasn’t the best chemist. But I learned a lot from you that was more important. I learned about kindness, about integrity and about playing fair. Those lessons have served me well all my life.”
“Thank you Rosie,” he said. “You were the ray of sunshine every day I taught you. Thank you for that.”
“He said you were his ray of sunshine every day he taught you,” Mary said. “And he wanted to thank you for that.”
Mary stepped toward the small display. “Your students wanted to show you just how much you meant to them,” she said. “When your former students found out what really happened they all wanted to do something to ensure what you did and what you stood for was never forgotten.”
“We set up a scholarship with your name on it,” Rosie said.
“Actually, Coach, two scholarships,” Stevo said, “One for Baseball and one for Chemistry.”
“We want people to know what you did for us for a long, long time,” Lo said, wiping away her tears, “Because we will never forget.”
“Your daughter, Dr. Thorne, is one of the contributors,” Mary said. “And when we all gathered this morning to decide on what we were going to do, they all took a moment to share with her how much you touched their lives. Louise told me she realized her father was a hero.”
Tears rolled down Charlie’s cheeks and he nodded at Mary. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how much this means to me...”
He turned to the side suddenly and then turned back to Mary. “There’s a bright light over there,” he said. “I’ve never seen it before.”
Mary wiped the tears from her cheek. “I hate to sound cliché, Charlie, but you need to go to the light.”
“Thank you, Mary,” he said. “And tell Louise that I always loved her and I’m so proud of her.”
“I will,” she promised, watching until he faded away.
“He’s gone, isn’t he?” Rosie asked.
Mary nodded. “Yeah, he’s finally gone home.”
Chapter Fifty
Mary came down the stairs slowly, her four-inch heels clicking as she walked. Ian looked up from the cartoon show he and the children were watching. “Good Lord,” he gasped. “Quickly tell me the name of my fiancé and why I’m so in love with her.”
Mary grinned. “Gillian,” she said, “And you love her because she doesn’t feel like your sister when you kiss her.”
He shook his head. “When you look like that, I’d be fair tempted to try it again.”
Mike appeared in the room, “What’s all the ...good grief is it legal for you to go out looking like that?” he bit his knuckle. “If I wasn’t already dead, looking at you would have made me die and go to heaven.”
“You look like a princess,” Maggie said. “But an evil one cause you’re wearing black.”
“No, you look like an X-Man girl with mutant powers,” Andy said. “I bet you could kill people real good.”
“You are such flatterers,” she said. “And I admit I love every moment of it.”
Ian grinned. “Aye, well, you’re worthy of each compliment.”
“So, when is Bradley supposed to arrive?” Mike asked.
“Any moment now,” she said as her phone began to ring.
“Uh, oh, bad sign,” Mike said.
“Hello?” Mary said. “A train derailment? Is anyone hurt? Well, that’s good. No, no, I can wait. It’s not a big deal. Another forty-five minutes, no problem. See you then.”
She hung up her phone. “Who derails a train on the Saturday night before Valentine’s Day?” she asked.
“Insensitive slob,” Mike said. “They should have known you had something planned.”
Ian chuckled. “Don’t worry darling, once you see his eyes pop out of his head from just looking at you, it’ll be worth the wait.”
Mary nodded. “You’re right, I mean forty-five minutes, no big deal.”
She paced back and forth for a while and finally slipped off her heels.
Forty-five minutes later the phone rang again.
“This can’t be good,” Mike muttered.
“Hello. No, no, I totally understand. It’s your job. People are counting on you. No, really I can wait.”
She hung up the phone. “Really? There’s no one else in Stephenson County who can help with a train derailment?”
“It’s a plot to ruin your date,” Ian said. “Do you have an old boyfriend who works for the railroad?”
She snorted. “Be quiet.”
Thirty minutes later Mary slipped a big white apron over her dress, took her earrings out of her ears and made her way into the kitchen. “Anyone else want grilled cheese?”
An hour after that, she went upstairs and read the children a bedtime story and got slightly emotional when the clock struck twelve and Cinderella had to leave the ball. “At least she got a chance to go,” she muttered.
Once the children had fallen asleep, she left their room. The clock in the hallway displayed 9:15. She went to her bedroom, slipped off her stockings replaced them with thick wool socks.
“Now there’s a look I’d thought had gone out of style,” Ian said, as she walked down the stairs. “And seeing it in person, I can truly understand why.”
She just growled at him.
An hour later, she was dressed in sweats and eating Breyer’s Ice Cream from the container. Ian was upstairs working on his computer and Mike was floating somewhere in the house.
“I hate my life,” she said sadly, eating another forkful of Rocky Road.
She shuffled over to the refrigerator and put the ice cream away. Then she climbed back into the recliner, pulled a blanket over herself and turned on “While You Were Sleeping.”
Chapter Fifty-one
A soft buzz woke Mary from a deep sleep. She raised her head and blinked her eyes open, realizing she was asleep in the recliner instead of her own bed. The buzz repeated and she recognized her cell phone was on the vibrate setting. She reached over to the end table, snatched it and answered.
“Hello,” she said with a yawn.
“Oh, good, you’re awake,” Bradley replied from the other end.
Mary shook her head and smiled. “Yes, I’m awake. But just barely.”
“What are you wearing?” he asked.
Her
eyes widen. “Bradley, this is so not going to be one of those kinds of phone conversations.”
His chuckle sent warm feelings through her. “No, nothing like that. But, really, what are you wearing?”
“My CPD sweats,” she said with a huff, “My usual nighttime attire.”
“Excellent, I was hoping you’d say that,” he replied. “I’ll be there is ten minutes. Put your running shoes on.”
She sat up in the recliner. “Wait. What? It’s 11:30 at night. I don’t understand.”
“We have a date.”
“But it’s 11:30 at night,” she repeated. “What can we possibly do at 11:30?”
“Mary, trust me,” he said simply.
Sighing, she tossed the quilt off and stood up. “Fine, running shoes,” she said, “Anything else?”
“A warm coat,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”
He hung up without giving her another chance to respond. Mary tossed her phone onto the recliner and jogged up the stairs to her room. “Running shoes,” she muttered. “Is he nuts?”
“Troubles?” Ian asked, poking his head out of his room.
“No. I’m going out on a date.”
He looked her over. She was dressed in baggy sweats, her hair curling around her face in sleepy waves and pink lines across her face from where she laid against the recliner.
“What?” she asked.
“You look lovely,” he said. “Lucky’s the man who has a chance to date a woman like you.”
“That bad, huh?”
Grinning, he started to move back into his room. “Aye, but it’s dark outside and the bugger left you waiting for more than four hours.”
“Ohhhh,” she yelled, darting into her room and rushing for the bathroom.
Glancing into the mirror she saw the marks left by the tufted fabric. “I look like a quilt,” she moaned as she splashed warm water on her face and then slathered on moisturizer. “My first official date with Bradley and I look like a waffle.”
She patted her face dry, added a little make-up and brushed her hair so it lay in smooth waves over her shoulders. Walking back into her bedroom, she glanced forlornly at the cute little black dress hanging on the outside of the closet. She glanced into the mirror and sighed. “Some girls never get to dress up for the ball.”