Rage's Echo

by J. S. Bailey

  The track changed on the CD, and Chopin’s “Tristesse” began to play. Though the nineteenth-century etude had to be one of the most beautiful pieces of music ever written and was one of Sidney’s favorites to listen to, its name literally meant “sadness.” She let out a ragged breath. Death. Sadness. Lingering spirits. Magically-appearing Bibles and leg braces. It was all too much.

  She slammed the English book closed and drew her knees to her chest. Was this going to be how she spent the rest of her life, turning into an emotional wreck at the slightest provocation? Her heart felt like it was gripped in an iron fist, and the pain of grief burned through her like fire.

  Part of her mind wanted to end it all. There would be no more pain. No more days of trying to come to terms with the fact that her best friend was gone for good. Death couldn’t be that terrible. It would be like going to bed for a long nap and never waking again. Nighty-night, world, it was nice knowing you.

  A calm presence filled her like warm honey. Startled, she lifted her head and blinked away the tears. Again, she felt as though she were being watched, but this time the sensation aroused her curiosity more than her fear.

  “Mom?” she whispered then cursed herself for being so silly. This felt more like the presence of a friendly stranger than that of the woman who had carried Sidney in her womb.

  Which was just as absurd.

  Please don’t cry, a voice said in her mind. Her conscience again, most likely.

  The presence felt even closer to her now, like somebody was sitting next to her on the couch. Watching.

  Goose bumps spread across her skin. Before, where she had sensed the unusual calmness, she now felt something akin to pity.

  Jessica would be having a field day if she were here. She’d have gotten out her cameras and recorders and whatnot and would be performing an all-out investigation.

  The thought that Jessica might be right crossed her mind again. This time the notion seemed less silly.

  She forced herself to rise from the couch. She needed to find Jessica’s bag of equipment. Where had she last seen it? Probably in the bedroom amid all of Jessica’s other crap.

  The feeling of being watched disappeared when she ascended the stairs.

  I’m losing it, she thought. Really, really losing it.

  Jessica had stashed her equipment bag at the foot of her bed. A silver voice recorder lay at the top as if it had been waiting for her.

  Sidney picked it up. She had never used the thing, though it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out. And since it had been wiped clean, she bore no risk of accidentally erasing any of the other tracks Jessica had stored in it before.

  In the living room, she switched off the CD player and sat down at the end of the couch. She turned the recorder on.

  “Is anyone here?” she asked, staring at the place where she had sensed the presence. “If so, can you tell me what your name is and what you’re doing here?”

  Jessica had once mentioned that it was better to use open-ended questions during these interrogations instead of leading ones like, “Is your name Jerry Madison?” or “Did you hitch a ride in Jessica’s car the other night?” Of course, the whole thing was utter baloney. Most likely the only responses she would hear during playback were those of complete silence.

  She waited for about a minute before continuing. “If you’re here, can you make yourself known to me? Can you turn my CD player back on?”

  A sudden wave of anger took her by surprise. “Sorry,” she whispered.

  The anger ebbed slightly.

  “If…if you could show yourself to Jessica, can you do it for me?” Surely seeing a spirit wouldn’t be so bad if she were expecting the sight of it. “I just want to know that you’re here.”

  Silence.

  Her pulse increased with her frustration. She was making herself look like an idiot. “This is ridiculous! I can’t believe I would be so stupid as to believe this ghost crap. I’m done.” She switched the recorder off and marched it back to its original place in Jessica’s tote bag in the bedroom.

  “I’m never going to get my homework done going at this rate,” she muttered, zipping the bag closed.

  She turned. Her eyes widened at the sight of the thing standing in the doorway that she had only just walked through.

  Before she could convince herself that it would be in her best interest to run or hide or do anything to get away from it, her surroundings faded away into a black world where the only sensation was the sound of her own screams.

  Jessica didn’t have to wait very long for Rachel and Eric to arrive at the restaurant. She’d barely had a chance to take a look at the menu when a gray Nissan Altima pulled into a space right outside the window. Rachel climbed out of the passenger side and shouldered a purse that was either Vera Bradley or a convincing fake.

  The couple strolled around the side of the building to the entrance. Eric said something to the hostess when they walked in. Jessica stood up and waved at them. “Over here!” she said.

  “Jessica!” Rachel hurried over to the table, leaving Eric in her wake.

  They hugged. Then Jessica stepped back to take a good look at her sister. Rachel’s light-brown hair was cut a lot shorter than it had been the last time they’d been together—it was currently about the same length as Wayne’s—and she had put on a bit of weight, which was probably good for her and the baby since she’d always been so skinny.

  “Never be gone for this long again,” Jessica said. “Two years is ridiculous.”

  Rachel laughed. “Come on, you know it’s only been a year and ten months. Big difference.”

  Jessica turned to Eric. “And how has the new father been?”

  “As good as ever,” Eric said. His dishwater-blond hair was cropped in a buzz cut, and he wore an Izod polo and a pair of khaki pants, making him somewhat overdressed for the occasion. He and Rachel slid into one side of the booth. “For the most part.”

  Jessica returned to her side of the table, noticing for the first time that she had unintentionally sat in a bunch of tortilla chip crumbs no one had bothered to clean off the seat. She brushed them onto the floor before sitting down. “Why? What’s up?”

  He closed his eyes for a moment. “I can’t stand airplanes. Rachel nearly had to sedate me so I didn’t fly into a blind panic during takeoff.”

  Rachel smirked. “He almost cut off my circulation gripping my arm. You’d think he’d never been on a plane before.”

  “I didn’t like it any of the other times, either.”

  “What did you do when you flew to Florida last year for that trade show? Don’t tell me you held your boss’s hand during the whole flight.”

  Eric wore a deadpan expression. “What happens at thirty thousand feet stays at thirty thousand feet. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Jessica smiled. Listening to their banter was a pleasant contrast to the week’s more unusual events. “Rachel told me you guys are moving back to Cincinnati.”

  Eric nodded. “That really depends on if I can find other work. A few places around here are hiring—I sent in my resume to four or five—but have any of them called me back for an interview? Nope.”

  “Sounds like the story of my life,” Jessica said. “I applied for a job here a couple weeks ago.”

  “I see that’s worked out well for you.”

  “Yeah. Judging from the condition of this booth I’d say they need to hire someone who knows how to clean, but I guess that’s not part of the job description.”

  “Go home and grab a bottle of Lysol. Maybe they’ll catch on and hire you on the spot.”

  If only it were that easy. “I just hope you have better luck in your job search than me.” Eric helped manage a company that distributed cigarettes, candy, and other products to convenience stores all over New York City. His prospects for finding a similar job in Cincinnati were slim at best.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

  Rachel was scanning the menu. “Aw, they don’t hav
e the burrito grande anymore. Guess they didn’t want to turn the locals into a giant pod of whales.”

  “The burrito supreme is good,” Jessica said. “It comes with rice and refried beans on the side.”

  Rachel patted her stomach, which was still reasonably flat since she couldn’t have been more than five or six weeks along in her pregnancy. “This poor kid is going to weigh half a ton at birth if I keep eating like this.”

  A waitress named Angela whom Jessica had been loosely acquainted with in high school finally noticed them and came to the table. “Can I get you guys anything to drink?” she asked in a bored tone.

  “Actually, I think we’re ready to order everything now,” Rachel said to her. “Eric?”

  “Hmm?” He glanced up from the menu. “Yeah, I’ll take a tea and the burrito supreme. With beef.”

  “I’ll have the same,” said Rachel.

  Jessica grinned. “Make that three of them, only I want Coke.”

  Angela jotted down their order with the enthusiasm of a limp rag and left them.

  “So other than being jobless and broke,” Rachel said, “how have things been?”

  Hectic? “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “Living with Sidney and your boy toy can’t be that bad.”

  Her face heated up. “He’s not my boy toy. And Sidney and I haven’t exactly been getting along these past few days, so yeah, it can be that bad.”

  Rachel made a tut-tut sound. “That’s what you get when you move into another woman’s turf. All-out war.”

  “Poor Wayne,” Eric said. “How has he been taking all that estrogen flying around in his house?”

  “He hasn’t thrown either of us out yet, so it can’t bother him that much.”

  “He still works at Reynolds and Korman?”

  “Yep. He’s as crazy as Mom and Dad, crunching those numbers all day. I don’t know how he stands it.”

  “Hey, you do whatever pays the bills,” Rachel said.

  Eric snickered. “Sounds like how I got through college.”

  A glass of Coke appeared on the table in front of Jessica. “Here are your drinks,” Angela said as she set the other glasses down. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

  “No, I’m good,” Jessica said. “You?”

  “We’re fine,” said Rachel. “But thanks.”

  The waitress gave a halfhearted nod and drifted over to the next table, repeating her question to the couple seated there.

  Jessica cleared her throat. “So, did you ever talk to Mom and Dad about Baby Schellenberger?”

  Rachel’s face darkened, and Eric shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I did.”

  If their reactions were any indication, that conversation had gone about as well as a morning stroll through an army trench.

  “What happened?”

  Her sister took a deep breath. “Mom asked me if I thought bringing a child into the world was wise. Wise! You like that?”

  Jessica blinked. “What’s her problem? She brought us into the world.”

  “I’m not going to waste time trying to analyze our mother’s warped philosophy. All I know is when she said it, she sounded more sad than angry. I kind of got the idea that she thinks the world today is too terrible for a child to be raised in.”

  None of this came as a great surprise, though it still annoyed her that Maria Roman-Dell would be that cold about the announcement of her first grandchild. “What did you tell her?”

  “I said that God will give us as many children as we’re meant to have. Then I asked her to put Dad on the phone.”

  “What did he say?”

  A faint smile pulled at her lips. “He was thrilled. Said he was happy for us and to keep him posted about Baby’s progress.”

  Again, not very surprising. “At least there’s one semi-normal person in the family.”

  Rachel lifted an eyebrow. “Normal? He married Mom.”

  “I said semi-normal. But maybe she bewitched him.”

  “Very possible.”

  “Love potion?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past her.”

  “You know,” Jessica said, “they never told me how they met. Maybe she stalked him and captured him when he wasn’t looking and then dragged him to the altar by his hair.”

  “You two are depressing,” Eric said as he flipped through the alcoholic beverage menu without really looking at it.

  Jessica grinned at him. “We aren’t depressing. Our family is.”

  “And you were the dummy who married into it,” Rachel added. “You’ll like the Reyes clan, though. Mom’s cousin Marco portrays a female magician on the weekends at a bar downtown, and his sister Elena performs in plays in some of the local dinner theaters. I’ve heard she’s pretty good.”

  Eric perked up a little. “Do we get a family discount if we go?”

  “To where, the bar or the theaters?”

  “Either one’s fine. It beats sitting here listening to you two lamenting about Maria.”

  “You didn’t have to live with her for twenty years,” Jessica said.

  “Eighteen years was bad enough,” said Rachel. “But that’s all in the past, right? I’m going to be as civil as possible with Mom when I see her on Saturday.”

  “Do you care if I order a margarita?” Eric asked.

  “What? No!” Rachel snatched the menu away from him. “Quit being so melodramatic.”

  Jessica and Eric locked gazes for a moment, and he winked. “Isn’t that why you fell in love with me in the first place?”

  “No, I think that the reason I fell in love with you is because I had some kind of mental lapse and I didn’t know what I was doing, and now I’m stuck with you until one of us croaks. Ooh! Here comes our food.”

  Not much was said over the next few minutes as each of them dug into their respective burrito supreme. As she started on her mound of refried beans, it occurred to Jessica that she had almost zero cash in her wallet. She might have to borrow a few bucks from Rachel, come to think of it. At least her sister would understand. She hoped.

  Rachel took a long sip of her iced tea. “So, how has Sidney been doing? I haven’t seen her in ages.”

  Jessica had to finish chewing before speaking. “Not so good. I thought she’d be doing a lot better at this point.”

  “What did you expect? The poor girl’s been through hell. I can’t even imagine…” Her voice trailed off, and she gazed unhappily at her plate for a few moments. “I felt really bad when we couldn’t make it to the funeral. Marjorie would have wanted us to be there.”

  “I’m sure she understood that you couldn’t get off school to come out here.” At that time Rachel had been in her final semester of college.

  “I know, but that doesn’t make me feel any less guilty.” She stabbed a hunk of burrito onto her fork and chewed it slowly.

  “Wayne’s been doing good, you said?”

  “Yeah.” Jessica drank some more of her Coke. “Did I tell you he’s letting me stay at the house for free?”

  Rachel and Eric exchanged glances. “Free, huh?”

  “Well, he can hardly expect me to pay rent when I don’t have any money.” She stared out the window at the Nissan Altima they had arrived in to avoid looking them in the eye. She knew what they were thinking. It was the same thing the entire village would think once word began to spread that Wayne had taken her in—one downside to living in a small town. You could pick your nose and the whole place would be buzzing about it in under an hour. “Do you want me to show you the place when we’re done eating? Sidney’s home right now. She’ll be glad to see you again.”

  “We’re going over to Eric’s parents’ house for dinner this evening,” Rachel said, the knowing glint still in her eye, “but I guess we can drop on by for a little while. Do you have any more ghostly footage to show off from your investigations?”

  Jessica hesitated. Would Rachel believe her, too? Probably. “I saw a full-body apparition at a graveyard near Iron
Springs,” she said.

  Rachel’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Did you take a picture?”

  She shook her head. “The only evidence I have is in here.” She tapped a finger on her temple. “Sorry.”

  “But that’s amazing!” Eric said, suddenly more excited than he had been since arriving at the restaurant. “Did I ever tell you the apartment I stayed in my first year at NYU was haunted?”

  “No, seeing as this is probably only the third time I’ve actually talked to you.” Though they had attended the same public school, Eric had been two grades ahead of Rachel and four ahead of Jessica, so their paths had not often crossed prior to his engagement and marriage to Rachel.

  He laughed. “Right. Sometimes I forget who I’ve told and who I haven’t.”

  “That’s because he’s told just about everyone who’ll listen,” Rachel said.

  “Hey, you’d tell people too if it happened to you.” He looked at Jessica. “None of the guys believed me. Stuff was constantly moving around, doors would open and close for no reason, I would hear whispering in the corners whenever I was alone…” He shivered. “I did some research and found out that a student had overdosed on heroin and died in there about ten years before. I barely slept for the rest of the semester.”

  “Did you ever see an apparition?” Jessica asked.

  “No, but I swear I heard someone calling my name when I was alone at night. And I wasn’t drunk when it happened, either.”

  “So he says.” Rachel winked. “Jess, did I ever tell you about the creepy thing you did when you were about three?”

  Creepy thing? “No, unless you’re talking about the time I wiped boogers all over the wall because I didn’t want to clean my room.”

  Rachel laughed. “I’d forgotten about that! No, this was seriously creepy stuff. I got up to pee in the middle of the night, and I walked past your bedroom door, and you were carrying on a conversation with somebody I couldn’t see.”

  “What’s so creepy about that? I was probably talking in my sleep.”

  “That’s what I thought at first, too. I stood in the doorway listening, because it was the funniest thing I’d ever heard in my life, but then you started getting really weird. ‘ Who’s Jesus?’ you asked. ‘Why do you live with him? Will I live with him too, someday?’ You kept pausing like you were listening to somebody. I can’t remember everything you said. It was too long ago. But I do remember watching you give the invisible person a bear hug and saying, ‘I’ll try to be good so I can live with you and Jesus. I’ll really try.’ Then you lay back down and went back to sleep.”