Chapter 14

Coming to Terms

Mary walked up to Mrs. Beadley’s home with heavy steps. She wished Gran hadn’t insisted that they make this trip today. They’d only put Chowder to rest the night before. She’d wanted to stay home in bed. As Gran knocked on the front door, Mary couldn’t help remembering carrying Chowder the last time they’d been there, the way Mrs. Beadley had stammered at the sight of him, how he’d been happy to be there with them.

Nina opened the door for them with a relieved smile. “Thank you so much for coming,” she said as she ushered them in. Mary cast a weary look around the house. She didn’t hear Marvin, but she was surprised to find Neil sitting in the living room.

He nodded hello to them. He had a large picture frame in his hands. It had a wedding photo in it. It must be him and his late wife Gladys. She went to stand to the side. She’d felt unqualified to help the last time, this time she felt uninterested.

“Why are you here again?”

“Your wife called us. It seems you’re really upsetting her.” She kept her voice low as she answered.

“I’m only looking out for her.”

“No, you’re not. You’re being selfish and mean.”

“Now see here, girl. You don’t know anything about marriage.”

“I know it involves ‘til death do you part. What’s your excuse?”

Gran was talking to Nina and Neil during her conversation with Marvin. Neil was showing her the picture, and she was nodding her head while lightly touching it.

“Who are these women, Marvin?”

“Two mediums or something. The girl can hear us just fine.”

“She can?”

“Yes, she can,” Mary said softly. Gran sent an inquiring glance her way. Mary shrugged and dropped her eyes. She really didn’t want get involved.

“Marvin, Gladys? I need you both to listen to me,” Gran said looking about the room. “You both know what’s happened to you. It’s time to move on.”

“And go where?

Mary was curious about this too. She’d heard Gran talk about ushering spirits to the other side, but she’d never really understood how that was supposed to work. She got that spirits anchored to an object to stay, but how were they supposed to leave unless you destroyed the anchor?

“You should feel it in your hearts like a tug. Follow it.”

“Do you feel it, Marvin? I think I feel it.”

“Yeah, I suppose, but it doesn’t mean we should leave.”

“Your loved ones are safe and cared for. You can leave with clear consciousnesses and easy hearts. Your time here is done. You need to continue your journey. Staying will only hurt you and those you care for.”

She felt cold. She knew the temperature in the room hadn’t dropped, and no one else seemed to notice it. “Marvin, is that you?”

“What, girl?”

She looked down at her hands. They were shaking. Sweat was breaking out on her upper lip. She wiped it away and wanted to pull her hair out. Gran looked over at her again with concern. She wrapped her arms around herself and backed out of the room. Gran called to her. She shook her head and reached for the door. She couldn’t be here. Gran stepped into the foyer with a concerned look on her face. Mary shook her head to tell her not to follow. She slipped out the door and took a few deep breathes. She clenched and unclenched her hands. She had to get it together. She looked at her hands again. They looked dirty. She jerked them to her sides and paced to the front gate. Why was she even here? She didn’t care if Marvin and Gladys went to the light.

She turned and began pacing back to the house. Her eyes fell on the front door. Right now, Gran was trying to get rid of two ghosts. Last night two ghosts who she’d wanted to stay faded away. None of it was right.

She turned and paced back to the gate. They could go peacefully. No one had to hurt them, and they didn’t have to hurt anyone. It was more than others got. A lot more.

She swung around when she reached the gate and paced back toward the house. Why did ghosts hang around? Why did they insist on staying? Did it really help anyone? Losing someone twice was worst than once. They were being selfish. Mean. Hurting those they loved. Well, that was wrong. Hurting was wrong.

She didn’t turn when she reached the front door. She took the handle and strode back inside. Everyone was still in the living room. Gran was still urging them to move on. Mary entered the room and stopped short at the coffee table. Gran stopped speaking and all eyes turned to her.

“That’s it. You two get two choices. One, you cross over, or two you stay on this plane, but you don’t get to stay home. You’ll come home with us, and we’ll put you in our shed. You can bicker and haunt that for the rest of eternity. How does that sound?”

“Mary!” Gran protested.

“No, the world is for the living, right? The dead shouldn’t dictate the terms to us. You two don’t even realize how lucky you got it. You get a choice. Others in your situation don’t. So which will it be? Cross over or shed?”

“Now see here,” Neil protested.

“Oh I don’t know about this,” Nina said.

“Mary, you really shouldn’t—”

“If you think you can make ultimatums—”

“I don’t know you, but you can’t—”

Mary marched out of the room and went to the kitchen. She threw open the overhead cabinet and dug out an old coffee cup. It hummed in hand. It was Marvin’s anchor. She went back into the living room and picked up Neil’s framed wedding picture. Neil leapt up.

Now I’m giving you a choice. I don’t have to. I could just smash both of these right here and poof you’d be gone.”

“Well, it’s pretty obvious which one you’d like us to choose.” Marvin grumbled.

“No, I don’t care. I’m just not going to stand here and plead. We’re not the powerless ones.”

Mrs. Beadley stood cautiously. “Wait, Mary. You don’t have to do this. We can take care of it.”

“He won’t let you be happy with Neil. He’s going to haunt you for the rest of your days. If he stays, you won’t be allowed to live, which may be worst than being dead. It’s the same for you, Neil. You decide.”

No one had an immediate response to her strong words. Gran was clearly thinking, but her eyes weren’t giving away what she thought. Neil and Nina looked pensive. Gladys and Marvin were silent, but it was a heavy silence.

She wanted to break something or scream. Why couldn’t any of them see? Why were they dithering on about this? If they wanted to get rid of the ghosts, then get rid of the ghosts! It wasn’t difficult. You didn’t need to be a freak to do it. She still held Marvin’s coffee cup in her hand. She thought about smashing it on the floor. It would be so simple. She didn’t even need to throw it, just let it slip and down it would go and then Marvin would be gone. Her hands began to shake again.

She tried to tighten her grip on the mug, but her hand wouldn’t cooperate. It slipped before she could stop it. She tried to catch it, but she was too slow. It landed on the floor with a dull ceramic ring. It didn’t shatter, but a large chip came off of it.

The coldness she’d felt earlier swept over her again. What had she done? “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She knelt down and picked up the mug. She pressed the chip back into where it’d come off. “I can fix this. He’s still here. It’s okay. I’m sorry.” Nina and Neil stared at her. They still didn’t fully understand the significance of the mug. Gran moved from her seat and gently took it out of her hands.

“I’m sorry. It didn’t hurt you, did it, Neil?”

“No, I don’t think so. Are you all right?”

His question got a giggle out of her. She’d been thinking about smashing his anchor to smithereens, and he was asking about her well being. Gran laid her hand on her cheek. She focused her eyes on her. Gran’s eyes were full of sympathy. She didn’t understand why. She’d been rude and confrontational. She should be angry with her. “I think we should go. Mary’s not feeling well.”

“Yes, of course.” Nina got up to show them to the door. Gran carefully handed the mug over to her with a quiet explanation of what it was. Nina tucked it against her stomach in surprise while curiously looking down at it.

Mary walked to the station wagon in a bit of a daze. She wondered how much trouble she was in. You were never supposed to get so forceful with a client. You weren’t supposed to scare them. She would never be a proper medium. Sure, she could hear ghosts, but she couldn’t seem to talk to the living.

She got behind the steering wheel and stared out the windshield. She didn’t feel right to drive, but Gran still couldn’t with her ankle. A few moments later, Gran maneuvered into the station wagon. She reached to start the engine, but Gran gently placed her hand over hers to stop her.

“Mary, I’m sorry.”

“Isn’t that my line?”

Gran gave her sad little half smile and shook her head. “I thought getting out of the house and coming here might help you a little. Obviously, I was wrong.”

She shook her head. “I am so screwed up.”

Gran shook her head back at her. “No, you’re not. You went through something very difficult and are having trouble dealing with it. That’s normal. The fact is if you weren’t having trouble I would be more worried, but I see I pushed you when I should’ve just given you time.”

She twisted the leather of the steering wheel as she tried to think of something to say, but she just felt tired. “What about Marvin and Gladys?”

Gran shrugged her shoulders. “They will either go on their own, Nina and Neil will continue to have them, or we’ll find a coffee cup and a wedding photo on our doorstep.”

“I don’t think we should become the clearing house for ghosts.”

She chuckled. “Neither do I, and I don’t think Marvin and Gladys would enjoy the shed.”

Mary dipped her head at the reminder of the threat. “Sorry, that was pretty mean.”

“No, it made the ghosts realize that they can’t take their hold on this existence for granted. They may be ghosts, but they’re not invulnerable, and you were right on a lot of your points. You were a bit too blunt, but you were right. They have to decide either to hold on or let go.”

“Which they?”

“Ultimately, it will be Nina and Neil, but if Marvin and Gladys decide to let go, then they won’t have a say in the matter.”

Her mouth twisted. “It all seems so lopsided. Nobody has the ultimate power to stay, only to go. If Nina and Neil decide to let them stay, it won’t matter because Marvin and Gladys can decide they want to move on, but if Marvin and Gladys decide they want to stay, it won’t matter because Nina and Neil can decide to destroy their anchors.”

“Yes, that’s how it has to be.”

She looked back at the house. “I don’t envy them the choice.”

“Who?”

Mary’s first reaction was to say any of them, but her own words came back to her. “Nina and Neil. They’re the ones who have to live with the choice, but I hope Marvin and Gladys do the brave and loving thing by moving on.”

“How do you mean?”

“It’s selfish isn’t it? Haunting your loved ones? The dead should move on. It’s their path. Staying here only prolongs the inevitable.”

“But sometimes it’s comforting.”

Gran’s statement reminded her of Chowder. “He’s in a better place, isn’t he?”

“I’m sure he is. All of them end up where they’re supposed to be.”

“So he was supposed to be with us?”

Gran reached across and combed back her hair. Both of them had watery eyes. “Yes, I believe so. Ghosts have a purpose. His was to bring joy into our lives. He did and now he’s gone on to continue his journey.”

“But he’d still be here if his body hadn’t been harmed.”

“We can’t know that. And I don’t think he would’ve wanted it any other way. He was protecting us. He’s at peace now.”

She nodded. She knew it would take a while for her to accept it. The loss was still too fresh for her. “You said ghosts have a purpose. What about Ricky or Max? What was their purpose?”

“You said Max helped destroy the Shadowman. Without him, who knows what might have happened, and Ricky, well it’s harder to say, but Julie was there to stop him. All ghosts may have a purpose, but that doesn’t mean they serve it.”

Mary smirked. “Sort of got lost on that one didn’t you?”

“Maybe a little, but I think I pulled through.”

“Yeah, you’re still all knowing. Let’s go home.”

“Agree with the second part; have to disagree on the first.”

She shook her head. “Nope, not going to convince me there.” Gran quietly harrumphed and settled back in her seat.

When they got home, the phone was ringing. She ran to answer it and saw it was Rachel’s cell phone. Calling during school, she hoped she didn’t get caught. “Hey, Rach.”

“Where have you been?”

“I had to help Gran with a job.”

“Ooh, was it an exorcism?”

She sighed and shook her head, but that didn’t do much good over the phone. “No, it was weird though.”

“Like how?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I could do what Gran does.”

“So you weren’t at the hospital Shadowman hunting?”

She had to grin at that. If she’d asked her a couple of days ago, she would’ve had to lie. “No, it was a ghost thing, but we weren’t any danger or anything.”

“So what is our next move with the Shadowman?”

“Nada. It’s moved on.”

“Really? How do you know?”

“He’s not there anymore. Vicky told me.” She had to be careful to keep to half truths, not sure if they were worst than lying or not.

There was a beep on the phone. “Hold on, I got another call.” She looked at the display and didn’t recognize the number.

She switched the phone to the other line. “Hello, Dubont Hellick residence.”

“Mary? It’s Kyle.”

Kyle? He’d never called her before. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey, how are you? I noticed you weren’t here at school.”

She snorted softly. She had no clue how to answer that question even for herself. “I’m not sick. I just needed a mental health day.”

Kyle laughed softly. “Yeah, I know about those.”

She grinned but was still perplexed about why he would call. “Is everything all right with you?”

He sighed and was quiet a moment. His silence made her tense. “I was planning to ask you in person today, but then you didn’t show and that threw my plans out the window so I’m calling because I don’t think I could go another day without asking.”

But then he didn’t continue. She was really perplexed now. “Ask me what?”

“Okay, I know this might be lame, but would you go to prom with me?”

“What?”

He let out a heavy sigh. “I knew you wouldn’t be interested. Sorry, forget I asked.”

“Um, so you don’t want to take me?”

“I asked you. What do you think?”

“I think I…” Her brain was scrambled. Prom? For real?

“You don’t have to be nice. If you don’t want to go—“

“I never thought I would go. I mean I didn’t think anyone would ask me.”

“I know it’s probably not your scene. I just thought it’d be cool if we went together.”

Her brain was definitely scrambled. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“If you still wanna?”

“Yes, are you sure? I mean…”

“If you really thought I’d say no, why’d you ask?”

“Because I really want to go with you.”

“You do?”

Kyle sighed again. It was starting to make her smile. “You know I like you, right?”

“I thought maybe, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Get your hopes up?”

It was her turn to be quiet a moment. “I like you too.”

“So, okay then. We can talk more at school. You’ll be here tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“See you then.”

“Yeah.”

She switched back to Rachel, not even sure her friend would’ve stayed on the line, but she was still there. “So when do you wanna go prom dress shopping?”

“What?”

“Well, I’ll need one for the corsage.”

“Oh my God, did Kyle ask you?”

“Just now.”

She jerked the cordless from her head at the ear splitting squeal. “Oh man, now I need to find a date. I’ve gotta go. Talk to you later?”

“Yeah.” She turned off the phone and looked around the living room. Gran was in the kitchen washing dishes. She wandered in and watched her. Her stomach was all aflutter from Kyle, but she was still sad. She realized some quiet was the best thing for her. She gave Gran a kiss on the cheek and went outside to the backyard to sit underneath the crookety tree by the fresh mound. She shied away from thinking of it as a grave. She looked up at the sky and watched the clouds. One of them looked like Chowder. She smiled as tears slid from her eyes. She wasn’t all right yet, but she would be.

“I hope you’re happy, Chowder, and if you can, keep an eye on Max to make sure he stays out of trouble. I miss you.” There was no response to her words, but a sense of calm settled over her. She kept looking up at the sky.





THE END.



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Chapter 13

Saying Goodbye

Mary backed up until her knees hit a chair and then folded into it. She stared incomprehensibly but with too much clarity as Mr. White swept the beaded curtain aside and stepped into the room. The Shadowman stayed in the hall.

She had to ask because her brain refused to understand what was going on. “What’s going on? How come the Shadowman’s not attacking you?”

“He won’t. He can’t.” Mr. White held up his hand, and a ring flashed blood red in the dim light. “He’s tied to me. My servant. Like Max. He stalks people for me and brings me their life force.”

“Why?”

“Terms of the contract. If he wants to be separate from me, he has to keep me supplied with life force. All shadows wish to be free. Why do you think they stretch so far from us?”

“Your shadow? How is that possible?”

“Cut him off.”

“How?”

Mr. White gave her a withering look and held up his ring hand again.

“But why would you cut off your own shadow?” It sounded so ludicrous and like a deal with the devil.

“Self-preservation, of course, but then again no one wants to die. I’m an old man, and don’t have many more years left on my own. If I have any more years. It steals life force for me, and I allow it its freedom.”

She shook her head. She couldn’t believe how well he’d duped her and Gran, and what better place to set loose a Shadowman than in a hospital? No one would question someone dying there, except people who knew of things beyond the grave. She’d walked right into his scheme, and he’d sent the Shadowman after her. And now he was going to kill her.

“You won’t get away with this.”

Mr. White began to chuckle, but it swiftly turned into a deep, racking cough that bent him over. He had to gasp for breath to speak. Still doubled over, he turned toward the Shadowman and pointed at her. “What are you waiting for? Take her.”

The Shadowman slipped past him and began drifting toward her. From behind her came a growl.

“No, Chowder!”

The Shadowman stopped and stared at a point on the floor. Chowder snarled. The Shadowman jerked. He thrashed around.

“I say, he is a very strong little dog.”

“Max, deal with him.”

Mary risked looking behind at Chowder’s body only to watch it rise up, and the head smash against the table.

“No!”

His body fell to the ground. The tear at his neck spanned his throat now, and a glass eye was missing.

“Why did you do that? He was just a little dog!”

Mr. White answered. “He was in the way. Don’t worry, girl. Don’t they say all dogs go to heaven?”

She turned back towards the Shadowman. It began to approach again. She still had Max’s sword. She clutched it in both hands. As he reached out to her, she swung it in an upward slash. It went through his hand. It felt like cutting Jell-O. He jerked back and a screeching sound like grinding gears came from him.

“Max!” Mr. White shouted. She was grabbed from behind. She didn’t try to struggle away. Instead she kicked the chair back. She felt the cold chill of Max’s form pass over her. Her chair banged into the table. She twisted around and grabbed the sheath.

“Mary, wait—” Max’s voice was cut off as she slammed the sword into the sheath.

“You don’t have Max or Horace or whatever the hell he wants to be called to help you anymore.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have anyone either. Just give up, Mary. I will get you.”

“Why are you doing this? How are you controlling him? Are you really? Or is he controlling you?”

Mr. White chuckled at her desperate questions. He wagged his finger at her. “No, you don’t get anymore answers. They won’t help you anyway. Now get her.”

The Shadowman moved toward her again, but she leapt from the chair and dodged past him. She rushed Mr. White. They fell into the hallway in a tangle. She grabbed the collar of his shirt. “Call him off!”

“Or you’ll what?” He peered into the room. “I think you forgot something or rather someone.”

Mary turned and saw the Shadowman was next to Gran. His hand was on her. “No!” Mary scrambled to her feet. “Don’t! Stop touching her!”

The Shadowman only stared at her implacably. Could he even understand her? She edged closer to Gran. White wisps rose from her head where the Shadowman’s hand hovered.

“Fine, take me. Do it.”

“That’s a good girl. Your gran would be so proud.”

“Don’t talk about her like you care! You take me, and then you leave. You never come near her again.”

“Fine.” He looked at the Shadowman and jerked his head. The Shadowman left Gran and came toward her.

“Won’t need anyone for a while after you.”

When the Shadowman was at arm’s length, she had to clench all of her muscles to keep from backing away. He raised his hand.

Her grip tightened on Max’s sword. She’d held it tightly the whole time.

“What are you waiting for? Pull it out!”

The Shadowman’s eyes flashed, and his hand began to descend. Mary shucked the sheath off the sword and drove it into the Shadowman’s torso. She felt her bile rise when it stuck. The sound that the Shadowman made was worse than nails on a chalkboard. She let go of the sword and stumbled back. It stayed embedded in the Shadowman.

“Mary? What have your done?”

“I’m sorry, Max.”

“No!” Mr. White rushed forward. She jumped in front of him and shoved him hard. He fell to the floor. The Shadowman was clutching at the sword, but he seemed unable to grab it.

“No, no, no!” Mr. White struggled up and reached with one hand toward the Shadowman. The other grabbed at his own chest. Mary blocked him and grabbed his wrist.

“Stop. It’s over.”

“Max, pull your sword out. Do it!”

Mary glanced back. If Max pulled out his sword, what would happen?

“No, I don’t think I will, Ezekiel. My debt is paid.”

“No, it’s not! You still owe me, and you know it.”

“Maybe, but it won’t matter if I’m gone.”

Her eyes widened as a pale silhouette came into view behind the Shadowman. It was Max. She couldn’t believe she was seeing him. Her eyes couldn’t leave as his hands circled around the Shadowman’s neck.

Mr. White surged to his feet. “No, stop!” Mary held him back.

The Shadowman’s hands flew from the sword to his neck. He struggled to pull Max off of him. A gurgling sound came from Mr. White. Mary wrenched her eyes away from the spectral forms struggling to watch in horror as Mr. White collapsed with his hands at his neck.

“Max?”

“Grab the sword. You have to strike the heart.”

“What?!”

“It’s the only way. He’ll just keep killing people if you don’t. Grab the sword!”

She got up and moved in front of the Shadowman again. It was trying to wrench Max off, but it appeared to be growing weaker.

“Mary, do it now!”

She grabbed the sword with both hands. She pulled it out and again was sickened by the feeling of resistance as she pulled. When it was free, she could see that the plastic blade was coated in a translucent black substance. She wanted to puke at the sight.

“The heart!”

She clutched the sword in both hands and stabbed into the chest. She screamed as the sword met resistance again. She had to push harder to make it go in all the way.

The Shadowman’s back arched, and its awful cries were cut off. “Time to go to hell, my friend.”

“Max!”

They were fading. The black translucent goo was dripping out from around the sword and dissipating on the floor. The sword appeared to be shriveling like it was against strong heat.

Mary turned to Mr. White. He still had his hands at his throat, but he wasn’t moving. His face was frozen in a silent wail. When she looked back at Max and the Shadowman, they were hardly outlines.

“Max, hold on!”

She reached to grab the sword. “No, Mary. This is how it should be. I’m sorry for deceiving you and Helena and for killing your pet. He was a better ghost than me. Please, forgive me.”

“No, Max!” The Shadowman and Max faded away completely.

They were gone. The rattle of something hitting the floor made her look down. It was what was left of the sword, a black sliver of burnt plastic. She bent down and stared at it.

“Max?”

There was no answer. Her eyes stung, and her legs gave out. She collapsed and poked the burnt plastic. She wiped her eyes and looked at Mr. White. He lay on the floor. His eyes were still open, but they were cloudy now. She put her fingers to his neck to check for a pulse and felt none. With a shaking hand, she reached and gently wiped her hand down his face, catching the eye lids and pulling them down. She also lifted his chin to close his mouth. He looked almost peaceful when she was done.

When Gran moaned, she couldn’t stifle the sob that came out of her. “What happened? Is the Shadowman here?”

Her knees shook as she picked herself up and went over to her. She put her arms around her and sagged, practically sitting in her lap.

“Mary, what happened? Are you all right?” She could tell when Gran spotted Mr. White. She pushed her away and got up. “Oh my God, Ezekiel! Mary, call 911.”

She wiped her face and sat in the empty seat left by Gran. The power was still off. Someone would have to go to the basement and flip the breakers before they could call for help. She couldn’t bring herself to move. “He’s dead. I’m sorry.”

Gran crouched over the body. Her hand was on his cheek. “The Shadowman killed him?”

She wasn’t sure how to answer. Should she tell her? She didn’t even know exactly what all had led to this point. How Mr. White had made the Shadowman and how Max had been working for him were still strange to her, and who had killed Mr. White? She wanted to vehemently deny it, but she had a sinking, shuddering feeling that she was the one. She’d killed a man. Not directly, but she’d seen how attacking the Shadowman was affecting him, and she hadn’t stopped. She’d still taken the sword and stabbed it in the heart.

“Mary?”

She jumped in surprise. She hadn’t noticed Gran had moved to crouch in front of her. What could she tell her? She looked down at her hands. They were clean. No black goo. No blood. They looked innocent.

“I killed him.”

“What?”

“I killed Mr. White.”

“No dear, it was the Shadowman.”

Mary looked into Gran’s eyes. There was still very little light in the room. Gran’s face was mainly in shadow. But what little light there was glimmered off tear tracts. Mary wiped her own face, but it was dry. She didn’t feel sad. That was bad wasn’t it? She should feel sad for killing someone shouldn’t she? Her eyes dropped back to her innocent looking hands.

“Let’s get you into the living room. Did lightning knock out the power?”

She let her pull her out of the chair. She had to step over Mr. White’s feet to leave the room. She started to shake. What if he spoke up? What would she say to him?

“Are you there, Mr. White? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Mr. White, can you hear me? I’m sorry.”

“Hush, Mary.”

She finally felt tears when she realized there would be no reply. Gran pushed her out and hustled her to the living room. She pushed her down onto the couch. “Stay here. I’m going to check the breakers and call 911. Just stay here.”

She nodded and stared at the floor. Gran left to go to the basement. A few minutes later, the lights came on all over the house. The sudden illumination stung her eyes. She sort of wished it’d stayed dark.

Gran came to sit beside her on the couch. The cordless was in her hand. She was telling the emergency dispatcher their address. After she hung up, she put her arm around her. “If anyone asks, say it looked like he had a heart attack or a stroke. He came over to visit and collapsed.”

She nodded and drew her knees up to her chin. The house was so quiet. The only ones there were her and Gran. It hated the silence.

“Mary, what happened?”

“I killed Mr. White.”

Gran squeezed her, but there was a trace of frustration in her voice. “Don’t say that anymore. Not to me, not to anyone. Now tell me what happened.”

“The Shadowman was here. It was going to kill us. I stabbed it with Max’s sword, and Max grabbed it. He held it so I could stab it again.”

“What was Zeke doing?”

Mary shuddered and bowed her head lower. “He was trying to stop me.”

Gran froze. Mary wanted to crawl under the couch. There was banging at the front door. Gran flew off the couch to answer it. There were paramedics and police officers on the other side. Gran led them all back to her office. Mary stayed on the couch.

She could hear a lot of talking and movement from the back, but they didn’t come back through the living room. They must have brought the ambulance around the house and took Mr. White out through the office entrance. Gran stayed with them and answered their questions. No one came to speak to her. They must have believed Gran’s story. She wondered if there would be an autopsy and what the coroner would find. Would there be strangulation marks? What about stab wounds? She hadn’t seen any blood, but his death had been violent. Surely, there would be evidence of that? Would she be a suspect? What about Gran? What would they tell them?

The phone rang. Gran had left it on the couch with her. She picked it up and looked at the number. She didn’t recognize it, but it was local. “Hello, Dubont Hellick residence.”

“Hello, this is Nina Beadley. May I speak to Mrs. Dubont?”

Mary’s eyes went toward the office, but it sounded like Gran was still talking to the police. “She’s busy right now, may I take a message?”

“Is this Mary?”

She swallowed and ran her hand through her hair. She wanted to deny it but knew that would be stupid. “Yeah, Mrs. Beadley. How are things with Marvin?”

“He was good for a few days after your visit, but he’s up to his old tricks again, and I’m about at my wit’s end.”

“You want us to get rid of him?”

She wasn’t sure why, but the thought made her feel sick. Mrs. Beadley paused before she answered. “Not get rid of him, but I shouldn’t hold onto him. I need to let him go.”

She wanted to hang up the phone. She couldn’t discuss this with her. Gran had come back into the room. The police must have finally left. She mutely held out the phone. She took it and cocked her head questioningly. “It’s Mrs. Beadley. She wants to talk about Marvin.”

Gran nodded her head and walked into the kitchen with the phone. She wasn’t sure what to do now. Should she stay on the sofa? She felt like she should be doing something. She got up and went into the kitchen. Gran was sitting at the kitchen table while she talked. Mary walked quietly by her towards the office. She didn’t know if Gran saw her or not. She made no move to stop her.

The office looked the same and different. The lights were all on, and Mr. White was gone. Chowder was sitting on the sideboard. The rip on his neck sagged in a little from the missing sawdust. His missing eye was sitting by his feet. She patted his head with a shaky hand. There was no happy pant or cheerful yip. Not even a whine. She wanted to cuddle the small dog but couldn’t because she was afraid of dislodging more sawdust.

She couldn’t put him to peace like Mr. White. He had no eye lids to close; his mouth was wired open; his body rigid with sawdust. She picked up the small body and tucked it under her arm. The familiar motion made her shudder. She quietly slipped through the outside door of the office. The back of the house had a large covered porch which extended to both the office entrance as well as one to the kitchen. Gran kept most of her gardening tools there. She picked up a garden trowel and scanned the backyard for a suitable spot.

Their back yard was not the prettiest. The garden tools were more there as an aspiration than actual use. Scrub grass and weeds made up the yard, along with an old crookety tree which she could never remember the name of, but the foot of it looked like the nicest place to be buried.

She knelt near the tree and set Chowder gently to the side. She picked up the trowel and began stabbing the ground to break up the dirt. She had to stop herself after a while when her stabbing was fuelled more by emotion rather than necessity. She leaned back and looked up at the sky. The stars overhead were distant and cold. She heard the screen door to the kitchen slam. She looked up at Gran when she came to stand by her. She still had the phone, but now it was off. “I can call Mrs. Todd to get the number of her taxidermist. He could fix him up again.”

Mary shook her head. “It’s no use. He’s gone.”

Gran’s face went slack. “Are you sure?”

She nodded.

Gran seemed to sink into herself. The hole was about a foot deep now. She couldn’t bring herself to call it a grave. Gran carefully got onto her knees and put out her hand. “Here let me do it.”

She shook her head again. “Right, let Grandma do the digging, not the teenaged girl.”

“There are some things you shouldn’t have to do yet.”

She began digging again. How deep was enough? What should she use as a marker? Should they say something? Like a prayer? She didn’t know how to answer these questions. She didn’t know anything, yet she could do so much damage. Tears began to fall from her eyes as her breath turned into hiccups. Gran reached out and put her hand over hers. She let her take the trowel.

She looked at the little dog resting beside her, and the thought of just placing him in the ground as he was seemed so cruel. “We should wrap him in something. I’ll go get a towel.”

Gran nodded and kept digging. She went inside and took down a towel from the bathroom closet. She realized what she was getting was a shroud. She felt a new set of tears forming. She went to take the towel to Gran and spotted the red ball. It had been his favorite toy. She picked it up and folded the towel over it. She went back outside. Gran was waiting for her. Together they carefully wrapped the towel around the small dog, including the ball and lowered it into the small hole. “What should we say?” Mary asked. She didn’t know if she could say anything, but something should be said, right?

“Chowder, you were the best little dog. You made us happy. We will miss you, and we hope you are happy and surrounded by love.”

Mary nodded silently in agreement.

Continue to Chapter 14