Spirit Eyes (9 page)

“Umm.” She looked up into her bangs. “The man in the driveway hasn’t moved and neither has radio lady. The last time I saw Mrs. Eberstark, she was sitting in the basement. She told me that she had a job for me to do and would be telling me more soon.”

Bile rose in Ruth’s throat, but she maintained her composure. Her baby needed her and she was the only one, the only person who believed her.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“You told me not to.”

“I didn’t tell you not…” She stopped and looked down. “I did tell you not to tell me, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“But I explained that if it bothered you to tell me.”

“It didn’t bother me.”

Ruth rubbed her temples and tried to ignore the ringing in her ears and the soreness of her throat. “Okay, Daddy will be down any minute.” She attempted a calm, centered persona, although her insides were thrashing. “From now on, as much as I hate to keep secrets from your father, we have no choice. If something like this happens again, you let me know. Also, don’t you ever—I mean
ever,
do anything if one of the people tell you to do something.”

“Mom, I’m not stupid.”

“I know you’re not, baby. I know you’re not.”

Ruth’s friend, Laura, watched the road, driving carefully after Ruth told her how achy she felt. Laura had convinced her she needed to get out for some retail therapy and, reluctantly, she’d agreed. She tried to get comfortable, her muscles aching.

“Look at you. No offense, but you look like hell. Get to another doctor. Find one who’ll have some answers.”

“I’m done with doctors.” Her voice so hoarse it was barely a whisper, she cleared her throat and swallowed hard, although it hurt. “Lotus had a sleepover last night. It wore me out.”

“You look like a living skeleton. How much weight have you lost?” Laura asked.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

“If I hear you say that one more time, I’m going to scream. You are
not
fine. Something is wrong and you look like you’re dying.”

“I don’t know what to do. They ran a hundred tests on me. They can’t find anything wrong. They gave me antibiotics to clear up my throat and cough and those didn’t even touch it. I’ve been to a couple of eye specialists and they’re just as baffled as to why my eyes are so sore and red.”

“Ruth, I see patches of hair missing.”

“I know. It’s coming out in handfuls. I’m trying different styles to hide it.” She put down the sunshade and looked into the attached mirror. “I guess I have to start wearing hats.”

“Are you sure you don’t have cancer and you’re just not telling me?”

“I would tell you if I had something seriously wrong with me. Call my doctors, go ahead, they’re simply baffled.” She shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “Could you stop at that restaurant? I need to use the bathroom.”

“This is insane,” Laura said. “Are you sure you’re up to a shopping trip?”

Ruth looked down at her thin hands, then up at her friend’s concerned gaze. Tears came out of her eyes, hot and stinging. “No, I’m not up to it. I thought it would help, but I can barely sit here in the car. Maybe, if you wouldn’t mind, just take me home.”

On the way back, Ruth opened up. “I simply don’t know what to do, or where to turn. I really think if I could talk to that lady, that psychic, it would help.” She brushed a stray hair out of her eyes and rolled up the window, the breeze too much for her.

“I’ll give her a buzz and ask her to give you a call.” She dealt Ruth a hopeful expression. “I mean, she may tell me she can’t help but…”

“Maybe, though,” Ruth said hopefully, “she’ll remember my reading. She left so quickly after she read me. Maybe she saw something about Pearl that scared her.”

“All you can do is give it a go.” In a quick change of conversation, Laura asked, “Hey, did you read about Mrs. Eberstark?”

“What?”

“There was some kind of a tribute to her and her husband and all they did for our town and the surrounding area.”

Ruth shook her head. She pushed her sunglasses up, and glanced briefly at her friend. “No. I didn’t see it.”

“She had quite the interesting life.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she was some kind of beauty queen in the nineteen-thirties.”

“What do you mean? Like, Miss America?”

“No, more like Miss Berlin,” Laura said.

“Really?”

“The article went on to say that she lost her entire family in the war and came to America to start over. She met her husband here. He lost his family in the war, too, and they married in 1951.”

“Wow, so sad,” Ruth said. “I hate to hear about how entire towns were wiped out by the Nazis. People lost their families, property, everything.” Ruth shuddered. “Evil, they were pure evil.”

“I know. I hate to even read or watch shows about it.” Laura looked out the window, then at Ruth. “She was in the paper every other week while we were growing up, remember? She was a member of every organization. In charge of the paper drives, the bake sales, you name it, she was involved. She ran for council and was actually the first councilwoman here.”

“I know…I know,” Ruth said.

“She was gorgeous in the picture they showed of her. Quite the dame, and, oh, those gams.” Laura reached out and banged the dashboard. “Bada boo, bada bing!”

“I’ve got to get home and onto the Herald website,” Ruth said.

“Yeah, their oldest son is being touted as a front runner for vice president and, of course, there’s the senator. Not bad, huh?”

“Yeah, remember I told you he came to our house questioning me about Pearl’s apparent visit from his mother. Like I’d let that get out.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

Ruth’s expressive mouth curled. “I think the Eberstark’s daughter is a big-time lawyer in New York, too. Makes you wonder what the secret is. Ya know, how some families become so successful, that is. Didn’t Mr. Eberstark have a lot of money when they married? That’s what I always heard,” Ruth said.

“I don’t know, but I’d like to know that secret myself,” Laura added. “But, if anyone deserves that type of happiness and success it’s them. Such good people.”

“She’s still doing good,” Ruth intoned. “Like I told you, she’s helping my Pearl from the other side.”

“I really do believe she is,” Laura said. “No matter what’s going on, Ruth, I think the old dame’s got your back.”

Ruth grew quiet and Laura gazed her way. “What’s wrong? Why so pensive?”

“I don’t know. I was thinking how I don’t have any pictures of my mother when she was young. None.”

“Why not?” Laura inquired.

“My father said that the photos were lost long ago. A fire or something. He always said that everything my mother ever loved in her short life went up in smoke.” She shook her head. “Of course, as you know, he didn’t say much. The most he ever said to me was on his deathbed. I was all of eighteen and he told me he could leave the earth now that he’d raised me. I don’t know, it’d be nice to have a keepsake of her. Something.” She stared out the window. “Anything.”

“It’s almost like you’re an orphan yourself. Just like Lotus and Pearl don’t know their birthparents because they were abandoned when babies, you don’t know much about your own mother. At least you have a little in common with them that way.”

“You’re right,” Ruth said with a sigh. “I never thought of it that way before.”

“Pearl.” Someone whispered her name and she froze. Alone in her bedroom, she played with her dolls, making beds for them out of cardboard boxes she got from the garage.

“Pearl, open the closet door, please.” Her people were at it again and this time she heard it with her ears, not her mind. It was a woman.

“No.” She pushed aside a box and scooted back. The voice took away any concentration she’d had with her playthings, and she prepared to flee if need be.

Scratchy and low, it beckoned her again. “If you don’t open the closet, I’m not going to be able to help you.”

Terrified, Pearl stood. “I don’t want to see who you are. And besides, Mrs. Eberstark said she would help me.”

“Mrs. Eberstark doesn’t like us. You have to see me. If you don’t, something bad will happen to you. We, your people, are getting anxious for this to end.” The voice grew urgent. “You need to help me and I need to help you. I’m one of your people, and I want to help you.”

“Do I know you?”

“Open the door and find out.” It—the woman—sounded as if she was trying to be nice.

“I don’t want to see you.”

“You must!” The voice grew loud and something like a fist hit the door.

She threw the doll she held close to her chest on the ground, stood and ran out of the room right into the arms of her father who was walking through the hallway.

“Whoa there, what’s wrong?” He laughed as she gripped him around the waist.

“There’s a woman in my closet.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “A what?”

“Daddy, there’s a woman in my closet. She told me she wants to help me so nothing bad will happen to me.”

Paul fixed his eyes on her. He knelt down on her level, and face to face, spoke low, softly. “Sweetie, this has gone on long enough. There is nothing in your closet but your clothes.”

“Daddy, please believe me. She really is in there. I’m scared.”

“Okay, listen. I know your mom has been letting you get away with all of this nonsense, but it’s time for this to stop. I want you to go right back into that bedroom and do what you were doing before this imaginary friend told you that something bad will happen.”

“But, Daddy…”

“No buts, Pearl. I’m done with this. You’re trying to get attention, and it has to stop.”

A chill coursed down her spine. “Daddy, please don’t make me go back in there,” she emphatically begged.

With obvious exasperation, he gave her a kiss on the cheek, stood, took her arm and led her back into her room. He called for Puddles, who came in wagging his tail.

“I want you to stay in here until Mommy comes home. Puddles will keep you company. And when Mommy
does
come home, I do not, under any circumstances, want you to say anything to her about this. Do you understand?”

He turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

She sat on her bed, picked up her stuffed bear, and held it close as her gaze moved to the closet. The sun cast strange shadows about her room as it set and she kept her eyes riveted on the door. Puddles jumped up with her and lay down.

Slowly, and with such minute movement, she wasn’t sure at first if she was seeing things, the door handle moved. It didn’t turn, it jiggled.

“It’s time to open the door, Pearl,” the voice sang. Puddles turned into the direction of the closet and let out his low growl.

“Leave me alone.” She crawled like a crab to the wall her bed was up against.

“Your daddy doesn’t believe you and your mommy isn’t home. It’s getting dark out, isn’t it? Do you want to wait and open this door when it’s really dark out?”

“No.”

“Then you better open the door, quick.”

Pearl swung her feet onto the floor and, still holding her bear, stood. She took a couple of steps toward the closet and then stopped. Puddles, behind her, began to bark.

“That’s a good girl. If you open the door, you won’t be hurt.”

In an unhurried, measured movement, she reached for the door. Her hand touched the handle then sprung back—it was cold as ice and she drew her hand to her face. As if she had touched dry ice, the tips of her fingers burned. The contact must have been enough for the phantom inside. The door creaked open and she drew back in horror. In front of her, a young woman, dressed in a black uniform, held a gun aimed at her. Pearl screamed and slammed the door. Puddles ran at it, pawing, and biting at the bottom, barking incessantly.

Obviously alarmed by her shriek and the barking, Paul ran into the room and saw her on her knees in front of the closed closet. She clutched her bear tightly. He knelt in front of her and took her in his arms. “Pearl, what’s wrong?”

Her face, tear stained and bright red, had strands of her dark hair stuck to it. “Daddy, Daddy, that woman in the closet. She was going to shoot me.” She threw her arms around him once again.

Pearl, there’s nothing there.” He opened the closet. “Look. What’s wrong with you? Stop it. Stop it, right now.”

Ruth, home early from her trip with Laura, walked into the room.

“What’s going on here?”

Pearl let go of her father, stood, and ran to her mother. “It’s that woman in the closet. She has a gun,” she screamed, her arms now wrapped around her mother.

Ruth looked toward the closet. “Baby—baby. Is she still there?”

She pulled her head away from her mother and turned it. “She’s gone now.”

Puddles, still barking, obviously wore on Ruth’s nerves. “Calm down. Be quiet,” she yelled.

Paul swallowed a groan of disbelief. “Of course she’s gone now, because she was never there. You two are pushing my patience. If this continues, I don’t know what we’ll do, but it has to stop.” He hit the frame of the door on his way out of the room as Pearl, again, threw her arms around her mother, sobbing.

* * * *

After Ruth held and soothed her, Pearl’s intense crying segued into soft weeping. Enough time had passed that Ruth felt she could question her about what had just happened.

“What did she look like, honey?” Ruth pushed her away slightly to gaze into her eyes.

“She was not as old as you, but not as little as a teenager.”

“Okay.”

“She wore a black suit with belts around it and she had on shiny black boots.” Pearl wiped the tears from her eyes. “She had on a hat with a bird on it. Her suit had a funny looking black spider on the sleeve.”

A shiver coursed through Ruth, much worse than the usual fever induced tremors she’d been suffering the last few months. “Pearl, do you think you could draw the spider for mommy?”

She nodded her tiny head,
yes,
and headed over to her pink desk and removed a piece of her fairy stationary and a feathery pen. What she drew, with her small, shaky hand, brought Ruth’s hand to her open mouth. “Oh, my God!” she said under her breath.