Into the Garden (Wildflowers 5)

After cleaning up the kitchen, I struggled to put the ladder back in the garage. Most of the way, I used it like a crutch to keep the weight off my ankle. When that was done, I returned to the kitchen, picked up the packet of letters and went upstairs. I put the letters on my desk, yet strangely I couldn't bring myself to read them yet. Instead, I turned to cleaning the bathrooms, making certain that Geraldine's was spic and span-- just the way she liked it.

I had intended to lie in bed and start another letter, but I was truly exhausted by the time I finished cleaning the bathrooms. Every part of me ached, even my neck and shoulders, and especially my leg, my ankle throbbing.

I prepared for bed and eagerly slipped under the blanket. When I lowered my head to the pillow, I closed my eyes and fell asleep almost immediately, but I didn't stay asleep. My eyes popped open and I stared into the darkness for a moment. I thought I had heard my door open and close. Was it part of a dream? Or was that what had woken me?

A chill started at the base of my neck and trickled down my spine like drips of ice water. In moments, my entire body felt frozen and numbed. I couldn't even raise my head from the pillow. All I could do was listen and wait. The floorboards creaked. I thought I heard what sounded like a skirt rubbing against a leg as someone crossed from the door toward my bed. Shadows darkened. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and then with all my might sat up.

"Who's there?" I cried.

The rain that had fallen earlier had passed, but it had left dark skies and strong breezes in its wake. The wind whistled past the windows. A curtain trembled and then there was only a deep, dark silence. Slowly, I turned and gazed around my room. My eyes were accustomed to the darkness now and shapes became familiar. There was nothing unusual. Nevertheless, I reached slowly toward the lamp on my night table and switched it on. I blinked at the shock of light, but a blast of illumination revealed I was alone.

I allowed myself to take deep breaths again. My lungs seemed so tight, it took a while for my breathing to become regular. Still full of trepidation, I rose slowly, taking hold of my crutches and standing. I listened. The house was always somewhat noisy at night. Pipes groaned, floorboards stretched and tightened, the wind discovering every tiny opening and somehow threading itself through the hallways and in and out of rooms, weaving its body about like a snake made of smoke. Tonight, it wasn't as noisy and the stillness made me imagine a dark creature, holding its breath and waiting in the shadows.

Old habits die hard; before I went to bed I had closed my door just the way I had all my life. I made my way to it, opened it and gazed into the dimly lit hallway. There was no one lurking out there, no sound, nothing. It's all my imagination, I thought. Of course, it would work over- time tonight of all nights. Nevertheless, I couldn't keep myself from going next door to Geraldine's room. That door, too, was closed, just the way I had left it. I stood outside and listened.

This is so silly, so foolish, I thought. I'm frightening myself for nothing. She's gone. I'm all alone. I put my hand on the doorknob. I'll open the door and switch on the light and see she's gone, see that it wasn't all a dream. The girls were really here and we did bury her.

My fingers trembled as I turned the doorknob and opened the door. I stood there for a moment, gazing into the dark room. Then I found the overhead fixture switch and flipped it. Light dropped from the ceiling, washing over the bed, the chairs, the dresser and floors in a ghostly white. The bed was empty and there was no sign of anyone, of course. How ridiculous it was for me to even look, I thought, shaking my head as I turned off the light and closed the door.

I stood listening again, heard nothing unusual, and started back to my room. As I passed through my door- way, I stopped, the chill now rising from my naked foot, up my leg and into my heart. Slowly, I looked down. It was a cold, wet spot of mud. For a moment, I couldn't swallow. I couldn't even look at it.

It's just a spot I missed when I cleaned earlier, I told myself. We must have tracked it in and I just didn't see it. That's it. That has to be it.

But we had taken off our shoes and socks downstairs first, hadn't we? I asked myself.

The mud might have dropped from their hands and arms, I replied to myself, or maybe from my crutches. Where else could it have come from? Stop this. Stop it!

I hurried to the bathroom, scooped up a towel and returned to the spot, quickly wiping and drying it I gazed around the room, searching for any others. There didn't seem to be any. Isn't that strange? a voice inside me asked. No, I said, no, no. It was just a dripping. Nothing. Stop. Stop! I screamed inside. I closed my eyes and embraced myself, squeezing myself as if to keep my fears from escaping my shaking body.

We buried her, I thought. We really did, but was it sinful? Would I be punished? Can her spirit rise and haunt me forever and ever?

I struggled to my feet, closed the door, and returned to my bed. This time when I lowered my head to the pillow, I lay there with my eyes open, waiting, listening. I lay like that almost until the first light of day before my eyelids slammed together like the doors of vaults and shut me in darkness and sleep.

The sound of a phone ringing woke me. It rang and rang and rang. I rose with great effort, every muscle in my lower back and my legs aching, and seized my crutches. The phone kept ringing. The closest one was in Geraldine's room, of course. I hurried to it. It continued to ring. I sat on her bed and lifted the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Oh, thank God you answered," Misty said. "I was beginning to get really scared."

"I don't have a phone in my room. She never let me have one," I said.

"Well, let's get one put in there. So," she added after a very short pause, "how did you sleep?"

"I didn't sleep much," I confessed.

"Neither did I. I just should have stayed. I worried about you."

"Thanks," I said. No one had ever said that to me. "I'll be there in about an hour. Anyone else call yet?"

"I don't think so. They might have and I didn't hear the phone ringing," I said.

"I'll call them. Do you have any bagels? I like a toasted bagel for breakfast."

"No," I said, laughing. Who could think of eating at a time like this? Who, indeed, but Misty.

"I'll bring some. Did you... I mean, can you see out back? Does it all look all right?"

"I haven't checked. Oh," I said. "I forgot to spread seeds last night. I'd better do that today and water the ground."