“It’s okay baby. I’m all right. Everything is going to be just fine, you’ll see.”
“And will Abby be okay too?”
His words stopped her cold. “Where did you hear that name?”
“You were screaming it.” He looked down at his sneakers afraid to make eye contact, as if he had heard something that he wasn’t supposed to. “You were yelling that you had to help Abby.”
“Well sweetheart, mommy just had a bad dream that’s all. Come on I’ll start you a new sandwich.”
She ruffled his hair and rose to her feet, trying to act nonchalant. Aiden wasn’t buying it. Ellie grabbed the burnt sandwich with a pair of tongs and tossed it in the garbage beneath the sink. Then she opened a window to let some fresh air inside. She wiped the back of her hand against her brow, which was glistening with perspiration. She was exhausted, the nightmares had been robbing her of sleep and made her cranky and irritable. The last thing she wanted to do was cook another sandwich.
“Hey, I got an idea. Why don’t you grab your coat and we’ll head over to grandpa’s store for a hamburger, how does that sound?”
Aiden’s face lit up. “Really?”
“Yeah really.” She tickled his ribs. “Now go on scoot.”
“Yeah!” Aiden went screaming from the room in his excitement. Ellie had been trying to get Aiden into some healthier eating habits, but today she guessed would have to be an exception. “What the hell?” She said to no one in particular as she grabbed her purse off the counter. “One time won’t kill him.”
Outside it was a typical blustery day. The light mist of rain swirled about them as they walked and formed small puddles on the ground. Aiden delighted in jumping in them and creating mini mud tidal waves that crashed out from beneath the soles of his sneakers. The last one was a little too big and the mud came down in small droplets on the toes of Ellie’s shoes.
“Damn it Aiden. Stop doing that.”
“Sorry mom.”
“My gosh look at you you’re covered in mud.”
She bent down and slapped at his pants trying to knock some of the mud free, but the more she tried the worse she made it, smearing the mud instead. While Ellie was bent down, inspecting Aiden’s pants a seemingly non-spectacular event happened. A car passed. Well not exactly a car but a van, and when the van passed Aiden made eye contact with the driver. The man inside the van looked mean. Aiden didn’t like the way his head followed him as the driver went by, twisting his neck to keep his eyes on him as long as possible. And his eyes were mean too, they were bad eyes. He was happy when the man in the van was gone.
Ellie stood up and inspected her work. She let out a small sigh. “When we get to grandpa’s you’re going upstairs young man and get into some clean clothes.”
“Awe but mom, I like these clothes.”
“Well then you shouldn’t have gotten them all muddy now, should you?”
“No mom.”
“You’re just lucky I remembered to keep some fresh clothes there.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him along. It only took another ten minutes to arrive at the store but when they did they were soaked to the bone. Cletus looked up as the screen door slammed shut behind them.
“Well hey there. Didn’t expect to see you guys today. Come on in, get out of the rain.”
“Thanks granddad.” Ellie managed to say as she stripped off her wet coat. “We’re going to head upstairs and get out of these wet clothes, and I hate to ask but, Aiden hasn’t eaten yet so…”
“Say no more, I’ll fire up the grill and throw a burger on. You up for that Aiden?”
“Yeah, burgers!” Aiden pumped his fists up and down in a fit of joy.
“Okay, tough guy, let’s get you upstairs.” Ellie scooped up Aiden and carried him to the second floor. Cletus tried to control the smile that had spread across his lips.
It sure would be nice to have the energy of a five-year-old again. He exited to the bar side and turned on the grill and the deep fryers. The strong aroma of searing grease filled the air, making him hungry himself, perhaps he would fry himself up a burger too.
From the store side Cletus heard the screen door bang again and knew that he had a customer. An honest day’s work seems like it is never done, he sighed to himself and headed for the storefront. As he came through the door he saw one of his favorite regular shoppers. Belinda Dawson was sitting in her wheelchair and weaving deftly around the aisle with amazing dexterity.
“Looks like you’re getting the hang of that thing after all.”
She looked up at Cletus and flashed a Crest poster perfect smile. “Yeah I guess you could say that. Can you believe I resisted this thing for so long? I mean my goodness I feel like a kid again.” She pressed the control lever forward for emphasis. The one point five horsepower motor whirred as it propelled the chair forward, she turned the handlebars sharply and the chair did a quick 360 in the small aisle.
“Awe now you’re just showing off.”
Belinda was a true local, born and raised right in this small town. Cletus wondered if she had ever even been out of the county and he was willing to wager good money that she had not. She had been the town sweetheart, crowned Miss Saltar’s Point when she was seventeen and married David Dawson just one year later. Four years ago she began to have numbness in her hands and legs. The doctors had hoped that she might have a slow progressing form of the disease but the Multiple Sclerosis had turned out to be aggressive and two years after her diagnosis at the age of thirty-six she had been confined to a wheelchair. Dave had been nagging her to let him purchase a motorized chair for quite some time when she began to have difficulty maneuvering her manual chair but she had resisted, not wanting to admit submission to her worsening illness. Finally when her mobility had become extremely limited, even around the house, she relented, and Dave bought her the chair just two weeks later. Now she wondered how she had ever done without it.
She wore a light flower pattern blue dress that hung down to her ankles. Her auburn hair had just recently begun to show streaks of gray. She wore it pulled back in a ponytail held tight by a black scrunchy. She had been aggressively filling the wire basket on the front of the chair with food and cleaning staples.
“Where’s Dave?”
“Oh he headed down to Walter’s to fill the van up with petrol. Left me here to do some shopping in the meantime.”
“Well you tell him not to be such a stranger, we ain’t seen him at the bar for a couple of weeks now.”
Belinda chuckled a soft friendly laugh. “I’ll make sure to tell him. Be nice if he left me some time to myself anyway.”
“You just let me know if I can help you with anything sweetheart.”
“Ain’t nothing a man can do for me that I can’t do myself.”
“Somehow I believe that.”
Cletus made his way back behind the counter and picked up his newspaper while he waited for the fryer to heat up. Belinda continued her shopping. Just then Aiden came bounding down the stairs and Ellie followed shortly behind him. At the base of the stairs she stopped abruptly and peered over at the familiar face of the woman in the chair. It had been quite a few years but she looked virtually the same. Belinda noticed her a few moments later.
“Well my gosh. Is that Ellie Jean Pritchard? I heard you’ve been back in town for awhile now and I was wondering when I was going to run into you.”
“Belinda, my god it’s so good to see you.” She walked over to her old friend and bent at the waist to give her a hug. The wheelchair was a surprise to her and she tried not to show it in her face.
“Well you sure look good. What have you been up to?”
“Oh not much, just trying to adjust to life in a small town again, and I got married too.” She flashed her ring and a smile.
“My goodness, I almost forgot. I heard it’s Ellie Jean Jackson now, and let me tell you something, you landed the most eligible bachelor in Saltar’s Point.”
“Don’t I know it.�
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Belinda caught her eyeing her chair. “I take it from your expression that you hadn’t heard.” She nodded down at her wheels.
“No, I um…” Ellie struggled for the right words.
“Don’t you worry about me none now. I’m getting along just fine.”
Ellie thought about how life could change on a dime. The last time she had seen Belinda she was about sixteen, and an aspiring dancer, now she was in a chair. The two girls had been classmates and casual friends, spending some summer days together down at Harper’s pond, swimming, tanning and talking about boys.
“And who’s this fine looking young man?”
“This is my son Aiden. Honey come say hello.”
“Hello.” He said from his shy perch behind his mother’s legs.
Outside a horn honked twice. “Well that’s Dave as impatient as ever. Now you and Randall don’t be strangers now. We’re living over on Derry Street, the big yellow house, you can’t miss it, stop in and say hello sometime.”
“We will, I promise.”
Belinda zipped the chair up to the counter.
“What do I owe you?”
“Oh I think Andrew Jackson ought to cover it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I have to have at least forty dollars worth of groceries here.”
“Well that’s the price, take it or leave it.”
“You know Cletus you’ve got to stop doing this. You know I’m not one for charity.”
“Between friends we call it hospitality.”
Belinda relented and slipped the twenty on the counter. “You’re a good man Cletus Pritchard.” She said as she scooted for the door. Cletus called after her.
“You just tell that husband of yours to come spend some of that money down at the bar.”
Belinda smiled and acknowledged the comment with a wave of her hand as she pushed open the screen door and zipped out onto the front porch and down the ramp that Cletus had installed on the side of the building a few years back just for her.
“Oh my gosh I had no idea.”
“What? Oh about Belinda. Yeah it’s a damn shame, MS came on gangbusters, but that’s one tough girl. Never voiced a complaint to anyone. Now why don’t you come around back and let’s get some lunch.”
They followed Cletus to the other side where he threw some fries in the grease and some fresh patties on the grill. The hamburger sizzled and popped on the iron griddle. Aiden climbed up onto his usual barstool and awaited his lunch. He had gone unusually quiet and Ellie took notice immediately.
“Honey, are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Cletus plopped a cold can of Coke down in front of him and popped the top. The soda fizzled and foamed on the rim. Aiden dove into it immediately, holding the can with both hands as he took a long swallow.
“How long has she been like that?”
Cletus scratched his head straining his memory. “A few years now, maybe four, only the last couple in the wheelchair though.”
“My god.” Ellie said and pulled up a stool next to Aiden who still hadn’t said a word. His silence was beginning to concern her. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“Why did you call that woman Belinda?”
“Because that’s her name.”
“No it’s not.” Aiden said defiantly.
Cletus and Ellie both gave him perplexed looks. “Honey, what are you talking about?”
“Her name’s not Belinda, It’s Abby.”
The comment didn’t hold much thought for Cletus but it struck Ellie like a Mack truck. “Honey, why did you just say that?”
“Because that’s her name.” Aiden was getting flustered.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because she told me.”
“Honey you’ve never met her before.”
“I have too!” His frustration was increasing. “I recognize her because of the funny chair with wheels. She told me her name was Abby.”
“Honey, I think you’re confused. Where have you seen her before?”
Aiden looked up at his mother with wide eyes. “She comes to me when I’m sleeping.”
In the silence of her mind Ellie’s terror was shrieking. It appeared that she was not the only one in the family having vivid nightmares.
THIRTY-FOUR
Darrow watched as the little punk splashed in the mud puddle. He was coming home from work when he spotted him and his mother, the pretty bitch that had just married that damn Jackson. She bent down to wipe the mud from the kid, her back was turned to him and she was unaware of his presence as he drove by. He didn’t slow the van down but he looked right at the kid as he passed and the kid looked back at him with curious interest. The words that the demon had spoken to him just the night before rang in his ears.
An intriguing thought flashed in the front of his mind. The Jackson kid was the perfect choice. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He was pure and he was retribution, a price to pay for the man who was intent on bringing him down. He drove the remaining distance in silence. Arriving home, he parked the van underneath the carport and entered the mansion, and there he stopped, surveying the scene in the foyer. Abby’s wheelchair lay on its side at the base of the stairs. Why the hell was the chair located there, where was Abby? His heart beat within his chest with increasing furor, and then he thought about what the demon had said to him. Was it possible that Abby had been down on the first floor again? The scenario didn’t make sense, even if she had managed to get down the stairs, why then had she not taken the chair back up with her? She had done it before if the demon spoke the truth. He crossed the floor and pulled the chair upright.
“Abby!”
His voice echoed back at him, and then he bounded the stairs. At the top he sprinted into Abby’s room, certain that he would find her hurt or dead. Instead he found her tucked neatly between the sheets. Slowly his confusion gave way to the anger building inside of him.
“You’ve got a lot of God damn explaining to do.”
Abby lay silent, not moving or even looking at him. For years he had harbored her, protected her, fed her, clothed her, and now she had betrayed him.
“You want to explain to me why the fuck your chair is in the foyer?”
“I soary Ack. I jus wanned to eave ma oom.”
“Oh you wanted to leave your room. And what the fuck do you think we do every evening when I get home? Do I not take you out every night and wheel your fat ass around the woods?”
“Yes.”
“And that’s not enough for you?”
Abby lay silent. The rage inside him continued to build like a glowing ember threatening to erupt into an engulfing flame. He drew a breath, sharp and ragged. He could beat her to a pulp or even kill her. He had stayed sober, gotten a job, worked for peanuts and refrained from beating some sense into her, and what had it gotten him, an insolent bitch that would just as soon disobey him as heed his rules. All of his progress was threatened to be washed away at that instant, but he was determined not to let that happen. It took all of his willpower but somehow he managed to control his emotions.
“Okay, Abby. I know it has been hard for you. Sitting here at home all by yourself while I’m at work, but you just can’t go roaming around the house. Understood?”
She managed a nod. The fact that she was not going to endure a beating was slowly registering in her head. Perhaps Jack had turned the corner, maybe he was beginning a new lease on life, exhibiting a new way of thinking, but that seemed more than far-fetched, a nagging doubt still lingered in her head, a leopard can’t change his thoughts.
“I’m going downstairs to get your chair. Don’t do anything to piss me off while I’m gone.”
And with that he turned and exited her room. Abby lay stunned, for what she had expected to be a horrific experience had turned out to be nothing more than a slight tongue lashing and that was something that she could easily deal with.
Sometime in the wee hours of the morning her dreams came back t
o her with vivid clarity. The girl was there of course, beckoning her to follow her into the depths of her own nightmare. She waved a skeletal hand, and mouthed the words ‘come on Ellie’.
She followed without resistance. Dreams were spun from the subconscious and the subconscious had a mind of its own. Her footfalls were soft, as though she were walking on a cloud of mist but the tile beneath her feet had an all too real feel to it. At the end of the misty corridor were two doors –the lady or the tiger- came to mind, choose wisely. The door on the right was sealed tight; the one on the left was slightly ajar. She pushed and it gave inward with ease. Inside she saw the woman that had haunted her dreams sitting complacently in her chair. She didn’t speak but the aura about her screamed for help. Ellie moved forward but an arrangement of cast iron bars blocked her way, spanning from floor to ceiling. On Abby’s left hand side a door stood closed etched into the brick wall. Could she open it from the other room? She turned and left the way she had come, Abby didn’t protest as if she knew she must go. Outside she tried the second door, expecting it to be locked, but it yielded as easily as the first, rotating open on its hinges.
The man inside seemed to be expecting her. He sat unmoving on a wicker chair in the center of the room, legs crossed and hands folded neatly over his knee. Impeccably groomed and tidy his clothes were those of a different era, early twentieth century if she surmised correctly, a tweed suit, vest and bowtie completed his Freudian appearance. The little girl had followed her inside. Ellie was unaware of her presence until she heard the scrapping of her feet behind her. She said nothing, as if waiting for what was about to transpire. The man looked out at her with steel blue eyes, a small smile etched on his lips between his tidy moustache and beard.
“Ellie, we’ve been expecting you.” He said it as if they were long lost friends.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Talcott, George Talcott, and I built this place.”
“You built my dream?”
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