Like a train coming in at midnight or sirens in the distance. It was there but you couldn’t hear it unless you really listened and once you heard it, it didn’t stop.
I opened my eyes to my pitch black bedroom, a faint glow of light coming from the window.
I felt drawn
Taking the lantern from my bedside I ventured outside, the cold air cut through my long white night dress.
A strange fog was rolling in from the west.
The entire neighborhood stood outside, lights in hand and gathering towards the fog. I made my way over Emile and Mr. Fierro who were standing in the midst of the group.
Was it always this cold ?
“What is it, Emile.”
“It’s my first I. . .My. God—“, he couldn’t make out the words
“First wh—“
“Hush.”, Mr. Fierro’s hand shot out to halt my questions, for the first time I felt compelled to listen to him.
I watched the fog as it rolled on-
Oh, God
There was a figure approaching, a dark silhouette in the background. The figure was moving slowly, hesitantly, it was coming right towards us.
It appeared so close but still very small.
No
Slowly out of the fog the figure stepped closer to our light, a large gap separating it from us. One more step and the figure became clear.
A child.
A little girl stood in the middle of
She stood there in the middle of the street
Not one person stepped forward.
I made the first step, Mr. Fierro grabbed my arm and held me back.
She looked so scared.
Mr. Fierro unwrapped his fingers from my arm and holding his lantern up he moved forward. I could hear every one of his footsteps.
He’ll scare her
Once he approached the girl he leaned forward and offered his white ghostly hand, she apprehensively took it and he lead her back towards the crowd.
Everyone’s eyes followed as he walked her hand-in-hand to Ms. Ginger’s house. Ms. Ginger was standing on her porch watching just as closely.
When they reached the top of the stairs he kneeled down to the girl.
“This is Ms. Ginger”, he said, “She’ll take care of you now.”
He let her hand go and Ms. Ginger quickly replaced it with
her warm smile. As soon as the door to Ms. Ginger’s house shut everyone lowered
their lanterns and slowly headed back to their houses as if nothing happened/
Mr. Fierro came back to where Emile and I were still standing at brisk pace, I still couldn’t move. He stood next to Emile and blew out his lantern.
I still couldn’t move.
“Get inside, Ms. DeLune”, he ordered as he walked back to his house.
Emile placed a hand on my shoulder and lead me back home.
+++
I awoke to Emile at my beside that morning, I imagined he stayed over the night, not that I minded.
“You don’t have to come to work, Clara”, he said as I reached for some water.
“That. . .little girl”, was all I could say
“I know, Clara”, he pulled a chair to my bedside, “you know these things happen”
“She’s all alone. . I can barley stand it here alone. . .being a child.”
She was young maybe 8 or 9. I made living teaching children her age to make music, not once would I wish a fate like this on them.
“She’s not alone”, he said, “She has all of us to protect her.”
“Protect her ?--We’re strangers”, I reminded him,” I’ve never seen any other children here.”
“They don’t usually. . . that is. . .”, he seemed just as confused.
I sat up in bed.
“Why here ?”, I asked, “Why not someplace less. ..old ?”
“I don’t know the answer to everything.”
I needed to shake this.
“Tell Mr. Fierro I’ll be at work today, I just need some time”
Once he was sure I was okay he headed back across the street.
I couldn’t get over what a good friend Emile had become in such a short time, I owed him one.
I bathed quickly and dressed in pants and loafers to prepare for my first day in the garden. I couldn’t let last night rattle me, things like this happened I should know that.
Hoping not to get docked for being late I made it to Mr. Fierro’s front door a little after 9. I had learned that the front door was always open and if someone knocked they clearly weren’t wanted.
Mr. Fierro was waiting for me in the hall.
“Follow me Ms. DeLune”, back to following orders.
He lead me out to the garden patio, I followed him confused that he could function without morning coffee.
Sitting in the middle of the garden was the little girl from last night. She had her arm tightly around her teddy bear still. I looked to Mr. Fierro for an explanation.
“Mol—Ms.Ginger went into town to pick up some things. You’ll
be watching the newest resident of
“Yes, of course”
He motioned for me to follow him to where she and the teddy bear were sitting.
“Kayla”, he addressed her, “This is Ms. Clara, she is here to get whatever you need.”
“Hello.”, I said sitting on the ground with her, it seemed to shock Mr. Fierro that I did something without his permission.
“You’re pretty”, she said not looking up
“Thank you”, I couldn’t stop the smile from my face.
She left the bear and ran off to play in the water fountain in the middle of the garden. Mr. Fierro stood hands behind his back watching me closely with little to no emotion on his face.
“Can I have a flower ?”, Kayla spotted the roses.
“No”, said Mr. Fierro in his usual monotone voice, “You can have as many as you want. Ms. DeLune will cut them.”
Without thinking I reached up to Mr. Fierro to help me off the ground. He quickly stepped away and looked at me like I’d tried to stab him. He backed away and headed back into the house. I went off to find the clippers.
+++
There was a balance to working for Mr. Fierro. As I learned later that night.
My paycheck was a reward and in contrast he could also punish me.
I assumed my first offense was not getting his coat and the second was trying to touch him.
“Are you listening, Ms. DeLune ?”, he asked
I wasn’t
I was seated in a chair in the living room while he paced and lectured me about what was expected of me for the rest of the night.
He told me Ms. Ginger wouldn’t be back till early tomorrow
and I was to stay the night at his house and make sure Kayla had a good first night on
It was hardly a punishment
“Yes, Mr. Fierro”, but saying that was punishment enough.
“You will prepare a meal, three courses I think. Find something to entertain the child and see her to bed, understood?”
“Mr. Fierro ?”, he seemed unsure if he should answer me or not, “If I were to ‘entertain the child’.. . Could I use your piano ?”
“No, Ms. DeLune”, he said matter-of-factly
“Why not, I’m a piano teacher for god sakes”, Now who was lecturing? He did not like that one bit.
“Ms. DeLune, when you were alive you were a piano teacher but now you are dead and my maid. You will not speak to me that way.” the monster scolded me.
I didn’t want him to throw me out, so for Kayla’s sake so I kept my mouth shut.
In the kitchen I busied myself with whatever I could find, even though I worked with kids I hardly knew what they liked to eat.
I boiled some noodles and opened a can of pasta sauce. There were some parsnips in the vegetable bin so I boiled them and mashed them up like my mother used to do.
Desert would be the third course; I spent two hours making a cherry pie.
Around seven Kayla was sitting at the dining room table coloring with a set of crayons. She offered to help me set the table but I didn’t want Mr. Fierro to think I was being lazy.
“Are you spending the night ?”, she aksed
“Yes, Ms. Ginger had work to do”, I told her pouring some water into cups.
“I’m glad”, she said looking at her drawing. She said it as if it was a secret.
“Does Mr. Fierro scare you?” I asked
“A little”, the poor girl.
“What about Emile ?”
“He’s funny”, she said with a laugh
“He is”, I agreed
Not knowing whether I should ring a bell or something I asked Kayla to find the men, she came back in seconds with Emile and Mr. Fierro at her heels.
After I set the plates Mr. Fierro instructed me to stand behind the table (out of his sight) with a water pitcher in hand. Once again I was subjected to being treated like a piece of furniture.
Emile and Kayla seemed to enjoy their meal but Mr. Fierro didn’t even touch his, he just took a few sips from his water.
“I believe the fifth chapter needs a bit more of an introduction”, said Mr. Fierro to Emile, “The antagonist has to be more clear”
“That makes it too easy, Fierro, I like my readers to think.”
“Make them think to hard and they will not see the point”, Mr. Fierro retorted, “Trust me on this one. It is why I hired you.”
“What did you think of chapter 26 ?”, Emile asked with a wink.
“Not in front of the child, Emile”, he said holding up his empty water glass.
“I’m not a child”, Kayla spoke up
“Of course. The young lady”, Mr. Fierro corrected himself.
“Ms. Clara”, Kayla obviously still saw me, “Why don’t you eat with us ?”
“I shouldn’t—“
“Don’t be ridiculous. If you would like to eat Ms. DeLune, please do soin the kitchen.”, he didn’t even look at me when he said it with such distain.
I dropped the water pitcher; even Emile seemed shocked by his tone.
I hated being talked to like I was some menial servant; could this man not even find it acceptable to dine with a woman? Banish me to the kitchen like something hideous or grotesque like him
“Ms. DeLune”, he yelled
I ran into the kitchen just to escape his meaningless gaze.
I heard his footsteps following me, I felt scared. Grief and fear are strange things. They can creep up on you when you least expect. . . or want it.
He knocked open the door to the kitchen his eyes boring holes into me.
“I—I—was just getting desert”, I lied
As I spoke I tasted saltwater in my mouth.
When had I started crying ?
The tears didn’t stop and I could feel myself giving in. There was a dead little girl out there, she was alone like I was. No family no real friends and with the White Monster staring down at her.
I backed against the wall and slid down into my knees.
Mr. Fierro watched me, no flicker of regret or sorrow. Just
the same still face; eyes straight ahead, straight lipped and barley blinking
while watching me break down. I swore if the man could smile. . . he would have.
After a few minutes the sobbing stopped. I picked myself up and dried my eyes. I could still feel his gaze, it was torture.
Kayla needed me.
I put the finishing touches on the pie and Mr. Fierro finally spoke again.
“I’ll be needing more water, Ms. DeLune”, ordered the monster.
“Yes, Mr. Fierro”, I could take it for now.
+++
“. . . How I wonder what you are . . . “, I looked to see Kayla had finally fallen asleep in the guest bedroom after my fourth rendition of the song.
“Good Night, little star”, I whispered.
I tucked her in and placed her teddy bear safely under her
arm. I opened the window and settled down by her bed in case she had a
nightmare. Dreaming was a luxury the dead could apparently afford.
Sleep came easily with another person in the room.
Twinkle Twinkle Little Star had been the first song I learned on the piano, I think I was five. I was amazed at how I could make random sounds into a song.
It was like a little puzzle.
My parents had to put the lock on the piano so I wouldn’t get up and play the piano in the middle of the night when I was little. My sisters and I always shared a room even though we had a big house and when we thought out parents were asleep we would sneak downstairs.
Tiptoeing down the stairs Claudia would slide open the glass door and undressing down to barely nothing we’d jump into the pool and have a late night swim.
As we got older we used out pool time to talk about boys, school, fashion. We continued the tradition until Claudia went to college and then it just stopped feeling right.
Until that Christmas, my last Christmas
We were all staying in the big house working on wedding plans when I woke them up.
“How about one last midnight swim”, I had said
They laughed at the idea but quickly came around to it. We shuffled down stairs and climbing on the highboard I decided to jump into the pool fully dressed .
The water was warm and nowhere deep as I remembered it.
I felt the water soak through my blouse and dragging me under, the smell of chlorine faded and was replaced by the odd scent of fresh dirt.
I felt Clarice or Claudia’s strong arms pulling me up.
No—they weren’t that strong
I wasn’t dreaming.
I was drowning
I opened my eyes as a pair of arms pulled me out of the pond in the backyard, I was laying flat on the grass still trying to process what had happened.
Pale white hands slipped under my back and legs and picked me up.
I was barefoot but my there was no dirt on my feet, how did---
The window.
I had jumped
I was light- headed and fought for consciousness, a pressure built in my chest. I was dying. . . again .
He carried me upstairs and opendd the door to one of the guest rooms , setting me down on the bed.
Leaning forward I chocked up a stream of pond water. I fell back down and Mr. Fierro tapped the sides of my face till I opened my eyes.
“Ms. DeLune do no—“
I pressed myself against his chest, I wasn’t dying.
“I thought I was dying again.”
He pulled himself away from my grasp, the front of his shirt was wet from my hair.
“One should only die once.” His voice was stern “Do not open my windows or try that again, Ms. DeLune”
“I wasn’t tryi—“
“Enough.”
"Yes, Sir", I manged
With that he walked out of the room.
+++
Mr. Fierro never mentioned the pond incident and I was happy
to put it behind me. The residents of
I was greeted with a list nailed to the door of Mr. Fierro’s house with my name scribbled on it.
It was filled with groceries, clothing and household items. . . it was rather long
Taking the list I went inside to get started on the coffee. Emile was slumped in a chair with Mr. Fierro standing over him staring at his pocket watch
I had been a little late.
“Emile ? Are you okay”, I asked.
“Look at this”, he held a blank sheet of paper in front of my face.
I picked it up and tried to read it but it was obviously blank.
“Its—“
“Writer’s block”, he finished slumping further in his chair.
“Ms. DeLune, your job”, Mr. Fierro reminded me.
It had taken me 30 minutes to make coffee and it was as if the two men hadn’t even moved.
“I have a deadline”, Emile complained to a complacent Mr. Fierro, “It’s just not there. . .”
“You are not the only one who has something invested in this. Time is ticking, Emile.”
I was officially invisible until Mr. Fierro decided he needed something or Emile offered a helping hand.
“Why don’t you \call that romantic accuantice of yours ?”, Mr. Fierro suggested.
This was the first I’d heard of this.
“You have a girlfriend, Emile ?”, I interrupted
“Something like that”, he clarified, ". . lives aways away though.”
“I can take care of travel, Emile”, Said Mr. Fierro, “As long as you get some work done.”
The idea of spending more than an hour alone with Mr. Fierro didn’t sit well with me let alone a week, but Emile seemed to be in some type distress.
“Sometimes”, I looked towards Emile, “Music can be inspiration I cou—“
“Ms. DeLune you have work to do, I want that list completed before nightfall. Emile should be given no reason to leave the house without his typewriter.”
He seemed to be ordering both of us at the same time, but Emile was oblivious to it.
“Yes, Mr. Fierro”, I gave Emile a little hug, “You’ll figure it out, Em”
He mouthed a thank you
+++
4 hours later I was halfway through my list when it became obvious that I wouldn’t be able to carry it all back on my little bicycle basket. Slugging the armful of bags around my shoulder I wondered back into the main part of town.
Trying to find my way to the gourmet food store I wandered a bit closer to the church I had seen during my first visit. I suppose I hadn't give nit much thought at first but the church was a little more than unusual.
The church was large and ornate, its tallest point held no cross but the stain glass windows were classic western European. People either seemed to be walking in or avoiding it all together.
The doors were propped open and curiosity ensued. Clutching the bags tighter over my shoulder I walked in.
It was dark, but when I squinted I was able to make out the velvet pews, people were seated throughout, they appeared to be in a state of deep prayer.
I could hear woman was crying behind me. I turned to see a woman being led into the back of the church. A man and woman dressed in white were at her sides but they weren’t forcing her. . . they were guiding her.
“Sit”, A kind voice offered
I was already sitting when I saw a man in an off white suit standing over me. He looked wise with a white beard and silver glasses.
“I—“,
“Close your eyes”
His voice caused a sudden calm to come over me me, his hands clasped over mine and led them to the wood of the pew infront of me.
I let my guard down.
I started to relax
I let myself daydream.
I was in my parents house, it was late summer as I imagined. I could practically feel the leather of the old couch.
Looking around the living room I had grown up in, everything was as I left it the last time Peter and I had visited just days before I died.
But something was different,
My baby grand piano was in the living room instead of my old bedroom, and instead of our family awards and memories on top of it there was a single picture.
I walked closer and saw it was my cotillion photo from when I was accepted into Rochester 5 years ago. I had worn my hair in a variety of curls, holding a bouquet of white lilies.
This was different, why would I dream about this ?
My mother was sitting on the couch, an old blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She was staring at the picture, she was staring at me.
Mother's deep black hair was wrapped into an elegant chignon, she was wearing a black dress I’d never seen and her favorite white pearls
“Mother ?”
She bought the blankets closer around her.
“Mother?” I tried again.
This time her head moved to the
side, as if she had heard me but I saw the door turn and my Daddy walked in.
“Claire”, he said sitting next to my mother, wrapping his arms around her, “I was wondering where you went.”
“I found her necklace”, My mother was holding the diamond pendant necklace she had given me for Christmas, “I should have. . .we should have buri—“
My parents crumbled into each others arms.
I couldn’t imagine this. I wouldn’t.
This was real.
“Mother? Dad ? It’s okay, I didn’t really like that necklace”
I knew they couldn’t hear me but this moment felt like a blessing, just to see them again.
“Why is it so cold ?”, Dad asked Mother
I sat on the couch and leaned against my mother’s back, I could feel the warmth of her skin and each breath she took, but it was as if I wasn’t there.
“I miss you, Mom”, I said
“Clara ?”, she whispered
A door shut somewhere and I felt myself being dragged.
I was tripping over my feet as I was being dragged out of the church and into the fresh air, I pulled away to face my attacker.
“Emile ?”
“Clara you can’t ever go—“
“My family they are in there”, I pulled away from him even thought I knew it was wrong, “It was so real, Emile. I have to—“
He pulled me further from the church and in to the train station.
“Clara you don’t understand”, he sounded angry, and “you don’t want that”
“What ? What don’t I want Emile ?”, he was the last person I thought I would be fighting with, “I felt my mother. I saw my home. It was like being alive.”
“You don’t want to be a Specter ,Clara.”
“A Specter ? What are you—“
“Clara, I think it’s time to answering all of your questions.”