"How in the world are we going to convince this man—we being mere strangers—that he must walk into the house of the man he probably despised most in this world? How do you suppose we do that, Mira?" Sara posed.
Mira was quiet, then she said, "I don't know."
The Cullens pulled up at 236 Moody Road in front of a two-storey, run-down wooden structure.
Michael decided to go to the door and introduce himself first before inviting the others to come out. He knocked at the door and waited. Thirty seconds later, he knocked again and waited. Then, on impulse, he walked around to the side of the building where he spotted a much older gentleman smoking a cigarette on the back porch. Michael could tell that he was well into his eighties.
"Who are you?" The man asked bluntly before Michael had a chance to say anything. "Everyone who knows me know where to find me. What you want?" He didn't bother to look in Michael's direction.
"Pardon me, sir, but are you Mister George Anderson?" Michael asked.
"Who's asking?"
Michael cleared his throat. "My name's Michael Cullen. I was wondering if you can spare me a minute."
The man didn't respond.
"It has to do with your father and a woman named Karlen Key." Michael assumed that he was, in fact, speaking with George Anderson.
The man's facial expression seemed to have softened somewhat at the mention of his father and Karlen. He turned and looked at Michael. "Go on."
"My daughter has something she needs to say to you, sir." Michael wasn't sure where those words came from. "If you don't mind, I'll ask my family to come out—they're in the car."
He nodded with approval.
Relieved, Michael went around to the front and waved to the others who were looking in his direction. One by one, they mounted the porch and exchanged pleasantries with Mister Anderson. There was only one chair on the porch and George unabashedly remained in it. He focused his attention mostly on Mira who was standing there with the small, green book-bag in her hand.
"You have something to say to me?" He asked her.
Mira looked up at her father, realizing that he had set the stage.
"Um… sir, I have to say this first," Sara intervened. "We would really appreciate if you just have an open mind to what you're about to hear. We're not strange people; we're ordinary people who don't make up wild stories for attention. What our daughter, Mira here, has to say to you is the God's honest truth and I hope you accept it as that." She stepped back a little and waited for Mira to explain.
George nodded, then refocused his attention on Mira.
"Sir, I know how much your father, Mister Andy, loved Karlen. Karlen's still trapped in the vicinity of the Ferguson plantation—mainly in Mister Cornelius's house in the closet where he killed her."
George Anderson leaned in closer, startled by what the girl had said.
"Karlen has been appearing to me, sir. I've also seen her and Mister Andy in my dreams and she showed me by way of a vision why and how she was killed. She's looking for your father, Mister Anderson. She's been looking for your father on that plantation for many years."
George looked away as if in deep contemplation.
"Sir, I am not lying to you," Mira continued. "We all just came from church and I dare not lie on The Lord's day. Everything I said is true." She pulled the copy of the photograph she had gotten from the Records Office out of her small book-bag and handed it to George.
George's eyes welled with tears as he looked at the photo.
"Isn’t that your father?" Mira asked.
George nodded.
"Karlen really loved him, Mister Anderson. She still does—even to this day," Mira averred.
The tears were flowing even heavier now. George looked at the other members of the Cullen family, then again at Mira. "I believe you, child. Karlen Key was all my father spoke about most of the time when he bothered to talk—Karlen this, Karlen that. Even while he and my mother were married and down to the time of her passing, he brought up Karlen's name. He never got over the woman. One time, he told me that she was his first true love. My mother, humble as she was, understood that this woman was before her time and she couldn’t do nothing about my father's feelings, so she accepted it. She accepted him and loved him, and also grew to love the Karlen he so often spoke about. My sister and me got paid a visit from Cornelius Ferguson's grand-daughter one time ago. She was really sorry and sounded like she wanted our forgiveness. We knew it wasn't her fault, but when she showed up here, it was so close to the time after our daddy passed away and we was still reeling from knowing he died of a broken-heart. Cancer came on him because of his broken heart, but it wasn't the cancer that killed him—it was Cornelius Ferguson. It was him taking his Karlen away from him like that and getting away with it."
Everyone stood quietly, not wanting to interrupt.
"So little girl… I believe you and I'm sorry Karlen's still stuck on that God-forsaken property, but my father's gone now. He passed away years ago."
"Sir," Sara started, "Mira seems to believe that if you go to the Ferguson house it will somehow help Karlen in that state she's in."
"Me?" George pointed to his chest. "How can me going there help her in any way? I am not my father. Besides, I never want to step foot in that house or on that land where my father worked his hind off and was beaten down like a dog back in the day."
"Mister Anderson, do you believe… and I mean really believe everything my daughter has told you so far?" Michael asked.
"Yeah. I know the little one told the truth," George replied.
"Well, all I ask is that you trust that she knows what she's saying about you needing to go to that house. I admit, we don't know how your presence would help—none of us do—not even Mira here, but if she says it will, we're inclined to believe her."
George took his time considering the whole scope of the matter. The Cullens stood patiently, understanding how difficult the decision must be for him.
"All right," George finally said. "I'll do it. When do we go?"
Michael looked at Sara and Sara at Mira.
"We don't want to impose on you, Mister Anderson. You tell us when you'll be ready and we'll come back for you," Michael stated.
"How about now?" George proposed.
"Now? You wanna go now?" Michael returned.
Wade and Mira were smiling and so was Sara.
"Let me grab my hat from inside and I'll meet you out to your car. Any space in there?" He asked.
"Yes, sir. We'll make space for you," Michael answered.
"Thank you so very much, sir," Mira said as George turned to enter in through the back door of his house.
George Anderson turned around, walked out and pinched Mira's cheek. "You're a special young lady. You know that?"
"Yes, sir." Mira smiled.
"No wonder she appeared to you, 'cause she was special too," he said.
"I guess that makes me special also." Michael couldn't resist.
"You saw her too?" George asked.
"Yes, sir." Michael smiled.
"I see. Anyway, let me get my hat." George was careful to take his time moving around as his knees occasionally bothered him. Years of manual labor at the Tyroon Factory had taken a toll on his joints. Aside from that, he was in remarkable physical condition for a man his age.
Wade and Mira bunched up together in the back seat leaving sufficient room for George. Michael had waited on the back porch for him while the others went to the car. As he and George approached the vehicle, Michael went ahead and opened the door to the side directly behind the driver's seat. George carefully got in, resting his cane next to his leg.
During the drive, the elderly man filled the family in on many things his father had shared with him throughout the years. The Cullens were humbled to be educated by the son of a man who had fought relentlessly—against all odds—for the cause of his murdered soul-mate. They were astonished by some of the mistreatment Andy was said to have suffered on the Fergu
son plantation before and especially after Karlen Key was killed.
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"This is gonna be a long walk," Michael said after they all got out of the car. He had parked as far in on the land as possible for George's sake.
"Are you sure you can walk this distance?" Michael asked him.
"I have my cane here, so I know I can make it," George replied. "If I get tired or the knees hurt, I'll just take a short rest." He was wearing a straw hat, a plaid shirt and dark-brown trousers whose age and numerous washings were obvious even if you didn't give it a good look.
They started through the wooded area. Mira and Wade walked ahead while Michael, Sara and George trailed behind them. George led the conversation the whole time, but Michael was hoping all that talking would not weaken the old man significantly.
"How much further?" George asked, taking his first break by leaning against a low brick wall that encircled a well.
"We still have a good ways to go, sir. Just rest here as long as you need to," Michael replied.
"I don’t need much rest. For the most part, I'm in tip-top shape. It's just these knees of mine that give me trouble from time to time; that's all."
"I understand," Michael said.
Seeing the adults had stopped, Mira and Wade waited where they were until George was ready to continue.
After climbing the porch of Cornelius's house with his tattered cane, George hesitated in front of the open doorway. Mira and Wade had already walked inside and were waiting in the great room for the others.
"Are you all right, Mister Anderson?" Sara asked.
"Yes. Yes." George nodded, as he often did and then he walked inside.
Immediately, Mira's attention was captured by the doorway just beneath the arch that led into the kitchen. Karlen Key was standing there, as if with great anticipation.
After walking in behind Sara, Michael noticed her too.
"Do you see her?" Mira asked, referring to no one in particular.
"I don't see nothin'," George was looking around.
"I see her," Michael affirmed, eyes affixed to the ghostly image that had frightened him beyond expression.
"A….N….D....Y…" went the deep, guttural voice that echoed loudly into the air.
Sara grabbed her husband's arm as she had heard the voice of the woman she could not see. George had heard it too and was moved.
Wade, aghast, stood close to his parents.
"I… I'm not Andy," George responded, voice cracking. "I'm his son, George."
Mira was still staring at the woman who had now raised both arms and extended them as if in a welcome pose. She was looking straight ahead into the distance.
"A….N….D....Y…" she went again. Michael looked on, holding firmly to his wife and she to him. Karlen's dark, veiny eyes, to him, were most frightening.
Suddenly, a young man dressed in a brilliantly white suit entered the room. Around him was a glow that was almost blinding. He seemed to be walking on air. Karlen made her way toward him with outstretched arms and then, in an intensely profound moment in time, the two embraced for what seemed like centuries. The room around them appeared to be spinning and soon, George, Sara and Wade could see them too.
"Daddy…." George uttered as the couple was still locked in their embrace. "My God… it's him. It's him when he was younger. He looks so handsome and… peaceful now."
Tears were streaming down Sara's face and when she looked up at Michael, she saw that he was crying too. She held him even more closely as it was the first time she had ever seen him cry. Wade was entranced by what he was seeing and Mira stood closest to the apparitions with a smile of overwhelming relief on her face.
After Andy and Karlen separated, they were holding hands, but Karlen's features had also changed. She was young and beautiful, and was wearing a dress such as that of a princess. It was as white as snow; there was no more blood. Her eyes were bright and clear, and her hair, black and silky in texture. She and Andy were both the same ages as they were when they first fell in love.
Karlen looked at Mira who was standing six feet away from her and with a radiant smile, uttered, "Thank you."
Mira was still smiling from ear to ear when Karlen looked over at Michael who was still looking at her and crying uncontrollably. This time, Karlen's stare was one of approval. Michael broke down even more, Sara and Wade both held him—amazed at how sentimental he had become.
Michael looked at his wife and pulled both of her hands up to the level of his chest. "I love you, Sara. I love you and the kids with all my heart and soul. I'm so sorry for all the hell I put you through. I'm so sorry, Sara. Please forgive me; please! I promise, I will be a better husband and father. I promise! Just please, please forgive me!" The more he spoke, the more he cried. Michael realized at that moment in time that Karlen Key had been trying to save him by appearing to him the way she did. She didn't want him to destroy the marriage he had been blessed with. She wanted him to treasure and preserve his family.
Karlen nodded slowly, then started to walk with Andy into the distance. George, Sara, Michael, Wade, and Mira all watched as the unearthly couple walked on air for at least fifty feet, then disappeared before their eyes.
Michael was still crying and Mira went over to comfort him as well. "We forgive you dad," she said.
"Yes, we forgive you," Wade agreed.
Then Sara looked into Michael's eyes, cupped his face with her tiny hands and said, "I forgive you, honey. I will love you with a love that never dies—the kind of love Karlen Key has for Andy."
George had shed a few tears as well. Seeing his father like that gave him such peace in his heart.
"He was with you all the while." Mira went over to George. "That's why when you came here, they were able to find each other. I understand that now."
They all looked at her and felt that each of them had made a positive imprint in a history that had been racked with bad memories. With that in mind, they knew that Mira had made the greatest impact. She was chosen by a young woman, who had long been lost, to find freedom for her and ultimately in the process, they all—in some way—were freed.
Mira walked toward the front entrance.
"Where are you going, honey?" Sara asked.
"Off of this God-forsaken property. Karlen's not here anymore and we no longer need to be."
They all managed a weak laugh and headed out behind her.
Outside on the ground, Michael looked back at the house, knowing that he will always remember the very special lady who had saved his family… and in essence—his life.
The very next day, he ended his affair with Hollie and a few weeks later, she landed a secretarial job with a new agency on the other side of town. Michael never saw her again.
* * * *
One month later
There was a knock at the door.
"I'm coming!" Mable cried, drying her hands with the dish-cloth.
The knocking continued.
She opened the door widely, ready to bark at the individual that seemed determined to put a dent in it. Then standing before her—on her very own porch—was the one person in the world she never expected to see. It was George Anderson. Sara Cullen was standing right next to him smiling.
George opened his arms widely and stepped forward. Mable's eyes had already welled with tears and a single drop had streamed down her cheek. She, too, stepped forward and they found themselves in a warm embrace that undeniably spelt the word forgiveness.
George soon looked at her and said: "It's not your fault. You are not responsible for any of it, but if you still need to hear these words from me, I willingly utter them: Mable Ferguson, I forgive you on behalf of my father, Andy, and our entire family. Release the pain and the guilt now— they don't belong to you."
Speechless and sobbing, Mable held onto George while feeling the weight of the world gradually leaving her shoulders.
~ The End ~
Cornelius’ Revenge
To all my readers,
Thank You.
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"Rosie, hurry up! We can't miss our flight," Mira yelled while tying her shoe laces.
"I'm ready now, Mom." Six-year-old Rosie Cullen entered the bedroom moments later. Her pink and white back-pack hung sturdily across a pink, short-sleeved blouse with frilly sleeves. Blue jeans slackly covered her legs and matching pink tennis shoes snuggled her tiny feet. Her black, medium-length candy curls glistened from the extra spiff of her mother's oil sheen. "See, Mom, we look just alike now, except for your blouse— it's blue. I told you pink is fancier."
Mira smiled. "You're probably right, Rosie, but Mom didn't have any pink blouse like yours. Sorry." She stood up. "All set?"
"All set!"
"Perfect! Let's go, then." Mira grabbed the two carry-ons as Rosie led the way to the front door.
Abruptly, the little girl stopped and looked back at her mother. "Is Uncle Wade coming too?"
"I'm afraid not, honey."
"Well, who will I play with at Nana and Pops' house? I'll be so bored. Why can't Uncle Wade send Tommy?" She sulked.
Mira crouched down to her daughter's level. "Your Uncle Wade and Aunt Norma are very busy at the hospital right now. They couldn't break away to fly up the same time as we are and they won't send Tommy on the plane alone."
"So when will we ever see them again? I miss them!" Rosie's big, brown eyes had a tinge of sadness in them.
"I'm sure we'll see them soon. Maybe we'll take a trip down there to The Bahamas one weekend or they can come here to L.A. How'd you like that?" Mira hoped the proposition would excite the child.
"That sounds neat, Mom!" Rosie's mood suddenly elevated. "Okay, let's go." She opened the door and headed outside toward the waiting cab.
Passing the champagne-colored Mitsubishi parked in the driveway in front of their white condominium, Rosie asked: "Why can't we take our own car to the airport, Mom?"
The Cornelius Saga Series (All 15 Books): The Ultimate Adventure-packed Supernatural Thriller Collection Page 9