The Book of Eleanor

by Nat Burns

  I knew this trick, had seen it before but with books.

  “Get down,” I screamed, just as a rain of kitchen implements shot out and made a beeline for us. Angie and I cowered on the floor, hiding our faces and heads as a curtain of lightweight metal draped across us. Some of the pieces stung and hit hard enough to draw blood.

  A wail sounded, so loud that it thundered and echoed in the room. Unimaginably loud whispers sounded, one-sided conversations that actually tickled my eardrums. I clasped my hands over my ears and screamed, in fury or fear, I wasn’t sure which. The attack continued until the items had been exhausted, but then saucepots and lids shot out from the bottom cupboards and crashed around the room in a volley of noise.

  A wind swept by me. The stack of paper I kept in my drafting table went flying across the room to separate into individual wings that floated wounded to the floor. The drapes at the dining room window billowed and whipped around until I feared they would be pulled from their mooring. They subsided into stillness. All that I could hear was my hitching breath and the howling wind outside.

  Angie stood and moved to the center of the room. She spoke in a loud, clear voice. “Eleanor. We know what you want. We are trying to find out what happened to Annalise for you. I swear. Just give us more time…”

  A sudden scream ripped through the apartment. Angie went down as if she’d been bludgeoned. I screamed myself, remembering the day I’d seen Eleanor strangling Angie in the easy chair. A shadow darted across the room with mind-numbing speed, and the door to the Bookmark creaked open. All was still once more.

  I crawled to Angie’s side and discovered that she was alive, just dazed by the blow. Together, we knelt in the center of the floor and peered toward the door.

  Suddenly, as we watched, a flame of light grew in the darkness near the center of the Bookmark. It formed into a round ball. As Angie and I gained our feet, it raced toward us. Only by leaping apart were we able to avoid being hit by it. The ball flickered and died before slamming into the wall behind us. Another ball grew and also streamed toward us from the darkness. Sounds of weeping carried to us as the storm whipped against the house from outside. Yet another spectral fireball came out of the darkness.

  “I am so over this,” Angie ground out.

  Dodging the newest fireball, she leaned her weight against the door to the Bookmark, trying to close it and stop the attack. She almost succeeded, but just before she got it closed, the door slammed open again, sending her flying across the room, into the sofa and a coffee table. My heart stopped when I saw Angie’s body crash down after being tossed like a rag doll. Tears sprang from my eyes and sobs tore from me. If I lost Angie too, my life would be over for certain.

  Beginning at the top of my head, I felt like warm bathwater flowed across me. The sensation made me unable to breathe for an eon of seconds. Panic filled me. What new diabolical torture did Eleanor plan next? Yet this felt different somehow, so I stilled and waited, drawing on every ounce of forbearance I could muster. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Angie crawl from the wreckage and shake herself. She spied my distress, my stillness, and she came to me.

  “Your hair,” she breathed. “It’s...it’s standing up. You’re glowing.”

  I looked at her, saying goodbye with my eyes, sure that Eleanor was taking me with her. I felt no pain, only heat. I wanted to wipe away the trickle of blood on Angie’s brow that threatened to invade one of her eyes, but my arms would not move. I realized that I could breathe but only shallowly, sipping tiny gulps of air.

  Angie laid a hand against my forearm and closed her eyes.

  “It’s Mary,” she whispered. “Mary is with you.”

  Tears sprang from my eyes only to be kissed away by heat.

  A voice sounded in my head and I rose, somehow pulling Angie with me. We moved as one toward the Bookmark. When another fireball flashed into existence, we walked right into it unscathed.

  Angie stumbled on the threshold, and we were free of Mary’s weight. Angie pulled me into her arms and we pressed against the interior wall of the Bookmark.

  As we watched, a glow began to fill the room. It started by the front windows. At first, I thought it came from the repeated lightning from outside, but this glow grew steadily, backlit by the flashes of lightning.

  Then I saw her. I saw my Mary.

  Angie

  I saw Mary release Grey and move to the front of the room. Light emanated from her as she stood examining us with dark, unreadable eyes. Oddly, she was outlined in tiny points of light. Even her eyes and lips were outlined. I watched her spellbound. I studied her fingernails and the veins on the back of her hands, wondering at the tiny pricks of light that covered them. Her clothing was like a fabric made of miniscule stars.

  “Isn’t she beautiful,” Grey said in a breathy voice.

  I looked at her and followed her gaze. “You can see her?”

  She nodded silently. We watched transfixed as Mary shimmered before us.

  Then I saw Eleanor. She sat in one of the chairs near Mary. Her face was in her hands, and her long hair streamed over her hands and moved in a spectral wind as she rocked to and fro. I heard her sobs. The word abandoned came to me over and over again.

  I pulled Grey against me, sensing a need to protect her from what would happen next.

  Eleanor paused in her movements. She lifted her face from her hands. Her eyes, horrible in their vacant whiteness, fixed on Mary. Eleanor’s scream rang through the room as she leapt on the other spirit, only to encounter a wall of light. She fell back, defeated, and flickered like a faulty diode. I felt fury rolling off her in waves. Books began to move on the shelves. Some broke free and whirled through the room, bullets of potential pain.

  A slim, black-clad leg appeared next to Mary, as if stepping from behind a curtain. Eleanor stilled. Books crashed to the floor throughout the room. The curtain parted to reveal the slender body of a beautiful redhead. The woman stood with Mary in the capsule of light.

  “Annalise,” I whispered. Grey stirred in my arms. I knew she could see her as well.

  Annalise moved closer to Eleanor. I saw her mouth move, but couldn’t hear what was said. Eleanor must have heard, however. She smiled and changed subtly. Annalise. The word echoed through the room.

  Annalise smiled and held out her hand. Eleanor reached through the glowing light this time. As their hands met, the entire room lit up like houselights in a darkened theater. The flash blinded me for a moment, but when I squinted and looked again, Annalise was home in Eleanor’s arms. The two spirits faded into mist. Only Mary remained.

  To my surprise, Grey broke free from my arms and raced to Mary. I gasped in horror and moved to catch her, only to have her shirt brush my fingertips as she moved away.

  “Grey, don’t leave me!” I cried hoarsely, stumbling after her.

  Grey stopped at the capsule of light that surrounded Mary. They gazed at one another. I came up behind Grey, sobs building in my throat. If Grey chose to leave with Mary, my life would be over.

  Grey lifted both hands and gently pressed them to the shimmering capsule. Mary smiled, the pinpoints of light moving and rearranging themselves.

  I extended a hand, but drew it back, tears cascading down my cheeks. This was a decision Grey had to make alone.

  Mary lifted both her glowing hands and pressed them to Grey’s. I saw a watery membrane of light still separated their hands, which gave me faint hope.

  They smiled at one another for a timeless instant. I saw something resolve between them. As one, Mary and Grey turned and looked at me.

  Suddenly self-conscious, I swiped at my face and tried a lame smile. I realized suddenly that the light was dimming in subtle stages.

  Mary stepped back, lowering her arms. She looked around the Bookmark. I saw approval register in her light-framed face. Her form flickered suddenly, and without a backward glance, she turned and stepped through an invisible curtain, pulling the capsule of light behind her.

  Grey and
I stood in the center of the darkened Bookmark. I was afraid to look at her, afraid I would see rejection, regret, things I did not want to see.

  Instead, I looked out the front windows at the cloud swells lit by fragments of lightning. Grey’s hand snaked into mine. I breathed again when she lifted my hand to her lips. I still couldn’t look at her, afraid of losing complete control of my emotions. Grey seemed to sense my fragility. Side by side, we watched the roiling night together.

  Grey

  I knew how Angie must feel, having seen me and Mary together. I wanted so badly to explain to her how important an act of closure that had been, how I had needed it to move on to my new life with her. Words failed me, however. My feelings ran too deep to verbalize.

  Instead, I took her hand. After some time regaining our composure, I led her from the Bookmark and back into the apartment. Chaos met my gaze. I shut the door firmly behind us. I turned the lock when I saw Oscar Marie perched safely on the dining table.

  Angie moved to tidy up, but I shook my head, letting her know it could wait.

  She followed me down the hall to the bedroom.

  We silently prepared for bed. Lying next to one another, we still didn’t talk, just stared at the ceiling as light from distant lightning played across it.

  Angie was the first to break the silence.

  “I almost lost you,” she said simply.

  I felt the hidden power of those words. “Never,” I said, pulling her into my arms. I nestled her weight atop me and looked up into her sapphire gaze. “I’m yours, Angie. In this world and the next. Promise me you will remember that.”

  She nodded. Salty tears dropped from her eyes to moisten my cheeks. I kissed her, and was once again transported to that warm, secure place of loving Angie.

  Her hands against my head felt so right. She rained tender kisses along my face and neck. We moved together, our bodies straining for loving touches. As she unbuttoned my shirt and her kisses moved lower, I realized with joy that we were indeed completely alone together. At last.

  Angie

  I stared at the ruins of my school and felt pretty close to tears. Grey took my hand and silently held it, offering comfort. I sure had been on quite the emotional roller coaster of late.

  “Maybe it’s for the best,” I said finally. “They were going to tear it down anyway. Now the fight is over and I have to say, I feel some sense of relief.”

  “No, you don’t,” she replied, turning around so she could stare at the bay instead of the broken building. “You’re worried about the kids.”

  I released her hand and walked to the front door. It gaped widely, the lock broken. Torrential rain and wind had finally done in the old building, shredding the roof like the talons of a giant eagle. Most of the asphalt roofing tiles lay broken on the swollen wooden floorboards.

  I stepped inside carefully, trying to see what I could salvage. The walls of the main room were rain soaked and drooping. I was glad I had taken down all the artwork and the teaching aids before the storm. At least we had saved those. I saw the destroyed bookcase and was equally glad the books and workbooks had been tucked safely away.

  “Wow, this is pretty bad,” Grey said. “We really need to get the stuff and go, sweetheart. I’m worried about this floor. It took a lot of rain.”

  I sighed and turned to her. “Yeah, you’re right. There isn’t much left in here anyway.”

  We backtracked and entered my office. A beam had fallen across my old desk and the entire office was soaked. Working together, we were able to free the plastic bins and the locked safe. On the way out, I gently disengaged the sign David had made for me. Miraculously, it was intact with water damage on one corner only.

  We loaded the Jeep. Just as I started the engine, I spied a metal square resting diagonally across the stone foundation. I hopped out of the Jeep. Lifting it, I saw that it was the Petey Wilson plaque that had hung next to the doorway. I tapped it with my knuckles, profound grief washing through me.

  I stood and took a deep breath, pushing the grief away. In life, there were always beginnings and endings, and this was just one more. We’d find a new place and everything would be just fine once again. I believed that.

  Handing the plaque to Grey for safekeeping, I swung myself into the Jeep and we headed home.

  Grey

  The strip was coming along nicely.

  I got a new cookbook, Sassy Suzy told her co-worker Rita.

  Oh, yeah? Rita replied. Made anything good?

  Nope, I think I’m gonna take it back.

  Really? Are the recipes too hard?

  No, just impossible. Each one tells me to start with a clean dish.

  ***

  I leaned back and stretched as I listened intently. It was way too quiet in the front. I lifted my coffee cup and stood. I needed a refill anyway.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket, so I fished it out and saw a text from Couscous. It was time. Excitement raced through me as I pressed a speed dial number and got the padre, who was waiting with the bus outside.

  We talked briefly. I stepped into the Bookmark where I was inundated with the delicious scents of flavored coffee and fresh pastry. Half a dozen chairs were filled. I waved to a few regulars who lifted their heads as I made my way across the room.

  The reading room had been growing in popularity during the past year, and was strangely well liked by both the local retirees as well as the college students from UTB.

  I had been a little taken aback. As expected, the spring breakers from last year hadn’t been interested in the books, but the coffee and pastries had proven a surprising draw. The Winter Texans had fallen in love with the place as a social gathering spot. Their word of mouth brought in a daily rise in customers this past October. Now here it was, spring again, and I’d had to put in a real cash register and hire two employees, one full-time and one part-time.

  My part-time employee, Maria, motioned me over. I paused by the coffee bar.

  I studied her cautiously smiling face and was again amazed by her transformation since graduating from the SPICEY last fall. She still wore her hair long and swept to the side to hide her scarred face, but now she smiled most of the time and had become something of an expert on rare books. She also kept the Bookmark’s inventory squeaky clean.

  “Hey, chica, you doing okay?” I asked.

  She nodded. “I am. How’s the strip coming?” I made a dismissive gesture and she laughed. “Listen, Forrest took home San Francisco Blues. I told him it was okay,” she said.

  “Oh, sure, that’s fine. He always returns them.” I cocked my head to one side, trying to remember the book.

  “It’s Kerouac,” she said, grinning.

  “I sure am glad you know what you’re talking about,” I said. “Did you enter it in the borrowed list on the machine?”

  “I did.”

  I leaned close and spoke softly. “It’s time. We’ll be back in just a few hours. You call me if you need anything.” I glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. “Jackson will be here in, oh, about half an hour.”

  Maria covered her mouth to stem an excited squeal. “Oh, my gosh, this is so cool,” she sighed. “Take some pictures so I can see?”

  “Will do, sweetie.”

  I approached the closed double doors to the eastern half of the Bookmark and paused before opening them. Hearing about Jack Kerouac made me think about Eleanor. I almost missed her presence, and might have liked having her around if she hadn’t tried to take out her anger and frustration on Angie and me. I sighed and pushed open both doors.

  Sound inundated me. I quickly closed the doors. At first, I didn’t see Angie, but her tousled blond hair popped up behind one of the easy chairs. She saw me and grinned.

  “Angie? What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Sally won’t come out.”

  I frowned. “Come out? Come out from where?”

  “She’s behind the chair,” Tommy said, appearing next to me.

  I turned back
to Angie. “Um, rough day teaching, Ange?”

  “Don’t you give me ’tude,” she said, rising to her feet. “Everything was fine until this one,” she indicated Tommy, “decided that Sally’s letters weren’t written the right way.”

  I turned to the teen and gave him the stink eye. “Tommy, maybe you should be the one getting Sal out…with an apology.”

  Tommy sighed dramatically, as though everyone in the world had it in for him today. He went over to the chair and loudly apologized. He looked at me a moment later. “It ain’t working,” he informed me.

  “Isn’t working,” Angie and Emma Rachel said in unison.

  I looked at both of them and had to laugh. I walked over to the chair and crouched until I could see a pouting, tearful Sally huddled behind it. “Hey, Sally, wanna go for a ride?”

  She peered up at me. I saw excitement stir in her eyes. “Where?” she asked.

  “It’s a surprise,” I whispered.

  “Can Piggy go?” she asked, holding out the stuffed bedraggled Muppet character that had become her constant companion since the school had been destroyed in the storm.

  I nodded very seriously. “Oh, yes, I should think so.” I helped her from behind the chair to scattered applause from Tommy and the other students.

  “Okay, field trip time, everyone!” I announced, moving to the table and neatening up workbooks and other the lesson supplies. I met Angie’s concerned gaze.

  “Beach trip?” she asked in a low voice. “We have a test Friday.”

  I cupped her chin in my hand and shook it gently. “It’ll be okay,” I assured her. “Trust me.”

  A knock sounded on the outside door. Emma Rachel rushed to unbolt it and let in Father Sephria. Angie looked from the padre back to me, and I could see her mind working, trying to figure out my game. Shrugging, she obviously decided to play along and began readying Delicia’s wheelchair for the trip.

  Following Angie’s example, Emma Rachel began working on Connie’s wheelchair, even as she signed to Carter and Emilio so they would understand what was happening.