Spirit Eyes (8 page)

A rapid assessment of the area proved her friends and teachers weren’t preparing to line up, yet, so she walked slowly toward the field, which was partially hidden by the maintenance shed. As she drew near, his smile grew wider and he put his hands down by his sides. In her head, he told her,
Hello
.

“Hi,” she replied with her mouth.

I’ve been hoping you’d come and see me
. His accent created a difficulty in her understanding him.

“Okay,” she answered.

I need you to do something for me
.

What?
This time she didn’t speak, but thought it, as he did.

I need you to not listen to Mrs. Eberstark. She tells you not to talk to us
.

Yes
. She grew used to his funny way of talking.

I want you to do something for me, okay
?

I’ll have to ask my mom
.

No. You musn’t say a thing to your mother
.

She nodded.

Listen to me very carefully
.

Okay,”
she heard herself say inside her head.

You live in the big house on the hill, no?

Yes.

He smiled widely.
I need you to go into the basement and look around at the floor. I need you to see if there is somewhere that looks different than the rest. Like someone broke it up to hide something.

“Pearl! What are you doing? Get in line.” Ms. White, angry that she’d strayed, screamed out.

I, I gotta go
, she told the man.

Can you wait
? He protested.

No, I’ll get in trouble
. She turned back to him, her eyes narrow from squinting into the sun.
I’m not supposed to come over here
.

Unforgiving in tone, her teacher’s voice bellowed out. “Pearl!”

“I’m coming.” She sprinted from the man and toward her teacher.

Ms. White reprimanded her in front of her peers. “What were you doing over there? You know you aren’t allowed to leave the pavement unless I tell you.”

“I…” Remembering that her mother told her not to talk of the people anymore, she lied. “I’m sorry. I chased a butterfly.”

“Don’t do it again.” The teacher pushed her gently into line and continued her head count.

Pearl twisted her upper body in the man’s direction. He stood there, once again, his arm going up and then down, his palm rising to his shoulder insisting she come back.

It had been a little over a month since the death of Mrs. Eberstark, and although Ruth and Laura went for visiting hours at the funeral home, they didn’t expect any sort of recognition for it. Thousands of people were paying their respects to a woman who’d done so much for the community.

However, on a boring, cloudy day, when Ruth lazed about in her yoga pants and a stained t-shirt, there was a knock on her front door. Wearily heading to answer it, she caught a glance of her reflection in the hallway mirror.
I look like death.
Although she’d broken down and gone to several more doctors, no one could find anything wrong. Yes, she had a fever, and was losing weight and suffered a persistent cough, but after numerous tests, nothing concrete could be found.

Upon opening the door, Mr. Eberstark and his son the senator greeted her. Shocked, she stared for a moment. “Hello?” Puddles insistently barked at the men, so Ruth put up her finger and asked them to wait. She took him to the kitchen and gated him in.

“Hello,” Ruth said upon returning. “Mr. Eberstark, how wonderful to see you, please come in.”

“Thank you, my dear,” he said. The old man, over ninety years old, walked hunched over with a cane. He wore a double-breasted, blue blazer and tie, and Ruth discerned his attempt at maintaining a high level of dignity in his slow, uneven gait.

“Have you met my son?”

“Briefly, at the funeral. It’s nice to see you, Senator.”

“Please, call me Tom.”

“Okay, Tom,” she said. Pleasantly handsome in a soft, charming way, the senator bore a regal essence much like his father. His blond hair, graying at the temples, added to the sophisticated look.

“Please, excuse my appearance.” She ran her hand through her hair. “I’ve been cleaning and…”

“Oh, no need to explain,” Mr. Eberstark said. “We are the ones who should be asking you to excuse us. We have stopped in without calling first, but we were driving home from lunch at the club and I thought I’d stop by and ask you a question.” A hint of an accent dusted his words.

“Sure. Have a seat and let me get some coffee.”

“No, really, that won’t be necessary.”

“Well, at least have a seat.” She directed them to the living room, where they sat on the couches.

“I don’t mean to be intrusive,” Mr. Eberstark said, “but it appears you’ve been crying. I hope all is well.”

“Oh, no. I haven’t been crying. My eyes have been bothering me lately. They burn and cause the tears and redness. No, I’m fine.” She quickly changed the subject, mad at herself for not putting her drops in that morning. “I’m so very sorry about your wife,” she said truthfully. “I had been talking to her earlier in the day and it was such a shock. I tried to tell you that at the viewing, but…”

Tom spoke up. “Yes, you see, that’s why my father would like to talk to you. Someone came to the funeral and told my father that he heard your little girl talking to my mother. He said she seemed to know that my mother had died before anyone else.”

Stunned, Ruth was speechless. She couldn’t tell them the truth. That would be insane. People would label her daughter any number of things if this came out into the open.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered.

“A man was sitting very near you, although you couldn’t see him due to the chair he sat in,” Mr. Eberstark said. “He specifically heard your daughter talking to my wife, after she had died.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Eberstark, but that’s not true. I don’t know who he was talking about, but it wasn’t my little girl. It must have been someone else.”

Mr. Eberstark and his son, Tom, exchanged confused glances. “Oh, well, then I’m sorry for bothering you,” Tom said. “It’s all been a big misunderstanding.”

“Do you mind telling me who this man is?” Ruth inquired.

“I’d rather not. He felt funny bringing it up, since he was ease dropping on a personal conversation.”

“Anyway,” the old man said, “we’re terribly sorry for the disturbance and I hope you’ll forgive us. We’ll be out of your way.” Mr. Eberstark and Tom rose, bowed their heads, and headed out the door, leaving Ruth more confused than she’d ever been.

Lotus and the group of girls she’d asked to spend the night giggled loudly. Ruth, never one of those mothers who enjoyed teens invading her home, dealt with it as best she could. She’d stocked the fridge and cupboards with drinks and snacks and ordered pizzas, then locked herself in her bedroom with a book, a cup of tea and Puddles sleeping at the end of the bed. Of course, the last few months had found her in bed often. It was even a chore to get up in the morning, let alone cook and clean. The housework took a toll without her help, and Paul and the girls, more often than not, heated TV dinners in the microwave for supper.

All was going well, until she heard a soft knock on her door. Lotus opened it, came to the side of her mother’s bed, and frowned.

“What’s up?” She removed her reading glasses and rubbed her tired eyes.

“Mom, there’s a weird smell in the basement.”

“What kinda smell?” she asked tartly.

“It’s really bad.”

“Is it another dead mouse?” They’d had a small mouse problem a few months before, and when caught in the traps, one little rodent could give off a tremendous odor.

“Yeah, but like a thousand times worse.”

“What?” She pushed the blanket off her lap and stood. “What is it, you s’pose?”

Lotus, her long, black hair in a ponytail, walked out behind her mother, and down the stairs. A t-shirt and a pair of boxers was her outfit of choice for her gathering of friends.

Paul, asleep on the sofa, stirred when they walked by. “What’s up?” he called out. Half asleep, he turned onto his side and closed his eyes again.

“Nothing,” Ruth whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

They were greeted by a group of wide-eyed girls huddled around the kitchen island, blankets and sweatshirts over their faces.

“We can’t stand to stay down there,” one of them said. “It’s getting worse.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Down the second staircase that led to the basement, Ruth reached the door and opened it. The smell hit her hard. Puddles, right behind her, barked and ran past her into the basement. “Puddles, get up here.” He didn’t listen.

“What the hell?” The stench assaulted her senses so foully, she slammed the door immediately and gagged. A smell of rot so hideous it incapacitated her now brought her to her knees, and she dry heaved.

Lotus was right. It smelled as if an elephant had died and was rotting slowly in the hot sun.

“Mom?” Lotus called to her, and Ruth slowly got to her feet. Little by little, as if gut-punched, she stood and made her way back upstairs.

“Mom, what is it?”

Ruth didn’t speak but simply stared mutely at her daughter.

“Mom?”

Her jaws paralyzed, she worked at them until her mouth opened. “I-I don’t know. I’ll wake your dad. You guys go wait outside.”

She scuttled into the bathroom where she vomited, losing her dinner, saddened at the loss of calories. She went to the living room and shook Paul. “There’s a horrible stench in the basement, Paul. You have to go and see what it is. It’s so bad, we might have to leave.”

Half asleep, he rose. “What now?”

“It’s got to be some kind of gas leak or something.”

Not saying a word, he staggered toward the basement.

A few minutes later he walked out of the house and into the back yard. “What were you guys doing down there?”

“Nothing,” Lotus said defensively. “We were listening to music and eating popcorn, then Pearl came down and a second later it started to smell.”

“The dog won’t leave an area over by the furnace. Are you sure you didn’t do anything to make that smell?”

“I’m sure. It all started when Pearl came down.”

“Pearl?” Ruth asked in exasperation. “Where is she?”

Lotus shrugged. “Still down there, I guess.”

Ruth, in a nervous gesture, threw her hands in the air. “What!” She whirled round and headed into the house using every ounce of energy she could muster. Holding her breath, she made her way downstairs. Pearl lay on the couch, listening to an iPod with earbuds, seemingly oblivious to the chaos going on, and obviously unaware of the smell. Puddles, crying and pawing at a patch of flooring, ignored her.

Pearl saw her mother and took the earbuds out. “What?”

Ruth grabbed her arm and pulled her up, weakly.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” she asked in serious shock.

Ruth couldn’t answer her, and if she didn’t get upstairs and outside quick, she’d pass out from lack of oxygen.

“Am I allowed to talk?” Pearl intoned.

Ruth dragged her confused daughter behind her, hoping she’d make it before she fainted. She couldn’t stand it and took a much-needed breath and the stench was gone. She sniffed around but couldn’t smell a thing.

Once in the kitchen, she called out, “Paul, girls, come back in, the smell is gone.”

“It is?” Lotus opened the back door and popped her head into the house. “Thank God.” She turned toward her friends. “Come on, let’s see if it’s gone from the basement.”

Like a herd of cattle, they made their way back downstairs. Lotus screamed up that all was clear.

Paul walked in after the kids.

“What is going on?” Ruth bemoaned in dismay. “What was that?”

“Hell if I know.” Paul scratched his head. “But, it’s gone, so if there’s nothing else, I’m going to bed.” He grazed her cheek with his lips, turned and headed up the stairs.

She turned her gaze toward her youngest daughter.

“Didn’t you smell that?” she asked aghast.

“Smell what?” Pearl declared levelly, looking dazed and confused.

“That horrid smell.”

“No.” She shrugged.

“Why were you down there in the first place?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why?”

“Cuz, someone was staring at me.”

“Are you
sure
you weren’t just dreaming,” Ruth begged.

“I was almost asleep, but someone tugged at my blanket. I opened my eyes and there was a lady standing at the end of my bed. I thought it was you at first, but then when my eyes saw better, it wasn’t. I didn’t know her. I know you don’t want me to talk about my people, so I ran down to Lotus. She told me not to talk about it in front of her friends, so I borrowed an iPod and listened to music.”

“It’s okay to talk about it if it scares you. I told you that. I know Daddy said not to, but if you need me to hear about it, I’m here.”

“Oh, okay,” Pearl answered, looking somewhat puzzled.

“Can they hurt us?” Ruth blurted this out, unsure where that question even came from.

Pearl shrugged. “I hope not.”

Ruth drew Pearl close. She stroked her silky black hair, reveling in the comfort it brought her. “Okay,” she muttered. “Can you go to bed now? I mean…alone?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Pearl, is that everything? Do you want to tell me anything else?”

“No, Mommy. That’s all.” She turned and walked away, Puddles in close pursuit.

“Pearl?” The morning sun shone onto the breakfast table, as Ruth poured milk into her youngest daughter’s bowl of Crispy Crunch. They were alone in the kitchen.

“Yeah, Mommy?”

“I’m curious about something. Do the people move? Or, do they stay in the same spot all the time?” Too sick now to keep much down, but coffee and a little bread, Ruth licked her dry lips before taking a multi-vitamin.

Milk dribbled down Pearl’s chin and she wiped it with her sleeve. She finished chewing and spoke. “The people didn’t move when I first saw them, but now they move from spot to spot sometimes. Not all of them, though.”

“Like—who’s moving?”