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We had such fun at my first book signing and meeting all of the people. This was taken right after.
US Author Page
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UK Author Page
http://www.amazon.com/Linda-Nance/e/B004PVDVR4/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1
Sometimes it is hard to keep going. Albert is all I have had on my mind. When he was so concerned about the progress with the new novel today I realized it really is a we thing we are doing in life. These books are my dreams coming true I can hold in my hands but he can hold them in his too and know we are making them real.
I could write this as two blogs but I think it will be one long one. I want to share the first part of the new novel that I am determined to have released soon. I also want to share the story of our lives as I work to make this story real in a book we can hold in our hands. You notice I say we. I do hope each and everyone of you get a chance to read the book and would love to hear your thoughts. I believe it is a story you will never forget but more than that. I hope I have been able to write it in a way that reaches out allowing you to know the boy, feel and see with him and experience the questions, fears, and emotions of is life. When I said we, I first thought of one day seeing Albert holding my book proudly in his hands. He has believed in me. He has supported me and he is with me in this novel as well as all of the others in his heart. He has been anxiously waiting to see it real.
I was working to thank all of those who have helped in so many ways. There are times that have been difficult and I have been having some health issues that are challenging. I have tried to do as much as I can but there are times that I get slower than slow.
The phone rang and I heard that my husband Albert, fell from a roof at work. It is difficult to find words to tell how I felt. A numbness and terrible fear filled me. How bad is he hurt? How far did he fall? Where is he?
I remember hearing the words but they took my breath away. He fell from the roof onto concrete. The home owner found him unconscious and called 911. The ambulance took him to the hospital but it looks bad. The words concrete echoed in my mind. I was here alone and had no way to the hospital. At that moment I could not speak, breath or move. When I did breath the breathes came in gasping sobs and I felt as if a part of my heart had been torn from my chest. A moment later I felt as it it was being crushed and the pain shot through. I keep nitro near but it took more than one round to get the pain to ease. I had to get to the hospital but the did not need two patients.
The CT scans showed a skull fracture with bleeding into the brain. They did not know how much it would bleed and if it would increase of decrease. He was throwing up blood. I asked if there was a rupture or tear..... He had hit so hard it was internal bruising causing the blood. We did not know if he would live.
Concrete....he fell onto concrete from up on a roof. He was lucky to be alive.
As the hours passed we all felt in shock waiting minute by minute for news and fearing the news at the same time. When we could visit for moments he was conscious and knew who we were but in a few seconds his eyes closed and he was gone again. When the eyes would open again it was as if he was surprised and seeing us for the first time.
They hoped the bleed would lessen and stop on its own but it was bleeding in 3 spots. If it did not they had already called in a neurosurgeon. The next morning the CT showed the bleeding had increased. I would like to tell you how I felt and what it was like but there really are no words to describe it.
People poured in to visit and pay their respects. Each and everyone was so special that visited, called, wrote, posted, and prayed. I believe in prayer. So many here online offering such kindness, support, encouragement and prayers will never know how much it means. So many praying and the next CT showed the bleeding stopped.
We are home now. He is in a lot of pain, dizzy and has no appetite, but he can keep soft food down and liquids and we are looking toward getting better and not what it could have been. We know there are not guarantees this early in the recovery but we can do it.
A little while ago he frowned and looked concerned. His question took me by surprise. You might think he wondered if I would get him some water or something else but he wanted to know if I had posted the blog sharing the new novel Danny.
I could hardly believe that would even cross his mind with the raging head ache he has. I think every part of him hurts and he wanted to know if I had it done.
I had to admit it did not even cross my mind. All I have been able to think about is him. I told him we might have to post pone it again and publish it later. Right now he was my priority. He looked so upset. "How can you do that? You are almost there." He went on to tell me how important it is to him. Next month is Child Abuse Awareness month and in this story the little boy is not only abused but neglected feeling alone in life.
I told him I would not have time to prepare to properly launch, share, promote or just tell others about it. I am not really sure how to do all of that anyway but with all we have going on here just making sure he is alright, drinking, eating and healing.....
He looked broken hearted and told me he really wished that I could get Danny out. He hoped I had posted this I write here. Hearing his enthusiasm for it as he continued to share that he felt it was a book that could make a difference and be so special and different as it makes it real even though it is fiction made me determined. I will find a way to do the final edits and choose one of the covers I have come up with for the book. I want to share them here too. If there is one that seems just right I hope you let me know. I like them all and it is hard for me to decide. Reading part of the story might help so you have a feel of the mood in the book.
What one do you like best? First line, second line or third line? Color?
A young child trapped in a nightmare life, had a special friend. His friend told him, that he could call him Danny.
Was Danny a friendly ghost there protecting, or was there more to this entity than anyone might suspect? Steven began to think Danny might be a Guardian Angel but angel or evil…only time would tell….. because Steven would tell no one and betray his friend …. and that friend was there to stay.
Tragedy and chaos, murder and an end to life as Steven had known, erupted in his broken household in the dark of night.
Three young boys fled and it was a night that would change their lives forever. If it was a new beginning or a new nightmare of a different kind, only time would tell….and we can not forget Danny. He would not want to be left behind. “You can call me Danny.”
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DANNY |
THE FIRST PART OF A STORY YOU WILL NOT SOON FORGET
CHAPTER
1
Five-year-old
Stevie Johnson pushed the toy truck back and forth and back and forth
along the floor of his room until tiring at last, he stopped and
pulled the toy man from it. He gazed at the little plastic man
reflectively. It had dark hair just like his father. As he
contemplated the toy, he thought about the time his father had lifted
him by the neck and thrown him against the bedroom wall. Leaving
Stevie in a crumpled heap on the floor, Michael Johnson had stormed
out of the room cursing.
Still
thinking about that time, Stevie placed the toy man on the floor. He
began running the truck over it, first slowly and then faster and
faster, his anger towards his father growing with each swift movement
of his hand. All of a sudden he picked up the truck and slammed it
down on the little man, crushing the toy beyond repair. He smiled
with satisfaction at the mutilated object of his revenge.
“What
the hell, do you think you’re doing?” a voice in the doorway
asked.
Stevie
looked up into the furious face of his mother.
“What’s
wrong with you?” she shouted. “There is something wrong with you.
Why do you act like you do?” She stepped quickly into the room and
grabbed Stevie by his upper arms, her fingers digging painfully into
his young flesh. He cowered as she continued her tirade, lifting him
off the floor in her rage. “I’m sorry for the day I gave birth to
you. All you ever do is cause trouble. You learn to play and play
right! Your Dad and I pay good money for all your toys and you never
take care of them. You had better take care of them or I will throw
all of them away and you can just sit in here by yourself forever. Do
you hear me?”
“You can
throw them away if you want. I don’t care. I don’t care what you
do.”
The sound
of the slap across his face resounded throughout the small room.
Stevie fell on his side and curled into a small ball, fighting the
tears he did not want her to see. “I don’t care, I don’t care
what you do.”
The door
slammed and the tears finally came as sobs racked the small body
lying on the floor.
“It’s
going to be all right. I think you are a good boy. The only thing
wrong with you is that they are too stupid to see how special you
really are. They don’t deserve a boy as special as you.”
Startled
by the sound of the strange voice, Stevie looked up through his
tears. He thought he was alone in the room. Peeking through his
hands he looked out and there was no one there. Cautiously, he sat up
and looked behind him. There was a man sitting on the edge of his
bed. The man smiled in a warm and friendly way.
“Who’re
you?” Stevie asked in astonishment.
“My name
is Daniel Montgomery Manderville, but you can call me Danny. What
should I call you?”
Stevie
paused for a moment. He was uncertain if he should be talking to this
strange man. Deciding it was safe, he said, “My name is Steven
Michael Johnson, but everybody calls me Stevie. Where did you come
from? I didn’t hear you come in.” His cheeks were wet where the
tears had run down his little face.
“I’m
here, and around, all the time,” Danny explained. “I’ve just
never had the chance to meet you before.”
“Your
clothes look kind of funny,” Stevie observed with curiosity. “How
come you don’t wear blue jeans like everybody else?”
“I wear
these, because they suit me. I’ve had them a very long time. Don’t
you like the way I dress?”
Stevie
smiled at the stranger hesitantly. “Sure Danny, I like them just
fine. Do you want to see my new fire truck?” Without waiting for an
answer, he went to get the toy. By the time he turned around again,
Danny was gone. Puzzled, Stevie went over to the bed. Crouching on
his hands and knees, he peered under the bed to see if his new friend
was hiding there. Not seeing him, he left his room and went in search
of him, wondering why he had not heard a sound when Danny left.
Determined to find him, he went to his parents’ room and again, on
hands and knees, peered under the bed. He started as he heard his
mother’s voice.
“What in
the world are you doing, Stevie? I saw you walking all around taking
your little sneaky steps, and now you’re looking under my bed? If
you’re trying to sneak up on Scruffy, I’ve told you before not to
scare the cat anymore. It’s not a game.”
“I’m
not looking for Scruffy.”
“Then
what are you looking for, or what kind of new game is this you’re
playing?”
“It’s
not a game. I’m looking for my new friend, Danny. He’s got to be
here somewhere.”
“Well,
you and your pretend friend need to get ready for lunch. After we
eat, you can help me with the laundry downstairs.”
“I don’t
like it downstairs. It feels like people are watching me.”
Marsha
glanced impatiently at him, though there were times, she had to
admit, she too had felt a presence in the basement. But that was not
something a child needed to know.
“You
have such an imagination,” she tried to reassure him. “The
basement is just kind of dark, and that makes it seem spooky. There’s
no one there. No one can come in or out of our apartment without the
buzzer sounding. Don’t you remember when Daddy put that in? Anyway,
you know I can’t leave you here all by yourself. Who knows what you
might get into?”
“I
wouldn’t be by myself. Danny is here someplace. He’ll keep me
company.”
“Stevie,
there’s no way anyone could come in without us knowing.” To prove
her point, she went to the door and opened it. “See? Nobody can get
in here without the buzzer going off.”
Stevie was
thoughtful during lunch. He was wondering why the buzzer hadn’t
gone off when Danny had come to visit him. “If Danny couldn’t
open the door without the buzzer going off, then how did he come in?”
he asked.
“Danny
is just a pretend friend like your stuffed bear,” Marsha said
distractedly. “It’s okay to have a pretend friend, but we need to
know the difference between pretend and real.”
Stevie put
down his half eaten French fry in frustration. “I told you Danny is
not pretend, Mom. He’s real. I saw him.” Stevie then went into
detail about what Danny looked like and the clothes he wore.
Marsha had
heard enough. “Did you see what people wore a long time ago on TV?”
she asked impatiently.
Stevie let
out an exasperated sigh. “Mom, I told you Danny was sitting there
on the bed. He told me his name and when I asked about his clothes,
he said he’d had them for a long time. I even asked how he got in
here and he told me he was here…and around…all the time. That’s
why I’ve been looking for him, to see where he is.”
Marsha
felt a cold chill. There were many times she had felt there was
someone in the apartment. She had wanted to tell her husband, but
found no way of doing so without sounding ridiculous. She was sure
that even if she did tell him about the eerie feeling she had from
time to time, he would start an argument and put it all down to her
drinking. She saw nothing wrong with a person drinking and if she had
the occasional beer for breakfast, so what? Who was he to pass
judgment? There was many a time he came home from work and drank
until he fell asleep. There were also times he has his loud friends
who liked to come over to their apartment and party all night long
until the morning hours.
They were
always quarreling, she and Michael. He made fun of everything that
was important to her. She believed in witchcraft and spells and that
kind of thing. She’d read a lot of books on the subject. She was
not alone in her beliefs. She believed she was superior to others
with special powers. She was often busy with her daydreams of
importance and reading to learn more about the power she believed she
would have and abilities to control others. Steven played alone in
his room. His mother often heard his little voice speaking to his
special friend that so often kept him company. She had begun to
accept Steven’s relationship with Danny especially if it kept him
from bothering her as she did what was important to her.
Michael
often made fun of her. She shrugged. The fact was that she did not
care what he thought as long as he provided for her and Stevie,
though they needed a better place to live. The neighborhood had
become dangerous.
The area
of the city where they lived had at one time been an enclave of the
rich and powerful with large stately homes. Over the years, it had
gone downhill considerably. The once stately homes had been sold,
resold, and most of them remodeled into apartment buildings with two
or three apartments in each. Marsha and Michael’s third floor
apartment was part of one of those large and once elegant homes built
in the eighteen hundreds. The rest of the building was now empty, the
tenants on the other floors having trashed the apartments and the
landlord never having bothered to repair them. The landlord was not
good at doing anything in a timely manner except collecting the rent.
Many
families suffered assaults as well as robberies when their homes had
been broken into. The possibility of intruders was a constant concern
to everyone. It was not safe to sit on the front porch or play in the
yard. There were drive by shootings, muggings, vehicle and homes
broken into and even abductions. Stevie never went outside, except
on the rare occasion with his father. Even then, it was not safe.
Michael was concerned for his son’s safety, but rarely had time or
made time to do things with him. He worked long hours and spent his
days off drinking and partying with his friends. On the weekends,
visitors came and went and there was always loud music, alcohol and
drugs of different kinds.
Stevie
dreaded those parties. At those times, his mother, fond of her beer
and wine, seemed to forget she had a son. Friends and part would
always come first and be what was important. It wasn’t long before
Stevie concluded parties were bad, because the longer the party, the
meaner the grownups became. He was forced to stay in his room and not
bother them. If he didn’t stay in his room, his parents locked him
in, leaving him alone. If he didn’t stay quiet, they would turn off
the lights. Then they would turn the music up so loud no one could
hear his screams or cries. Sometimes he thought he hated them all.
He was sure there were times that they hated him. He reasoned that no
one would treat their child as he was treated unless they hate that
child and he was bad. He was alone in the dark.
What
Stevie dreaded even more than being locked up in a dark room alone
were the times when his aunt babysat him. His stomach twisted into a
sickened knot as he thought about the things she made him do and the
things she would do to him as she smirked, “Now it’s time for you
to be a little man. Be a man. I’m going to make you a man. This is
between you and me.” He closed his eyes and many things came to
mind. He visualized an alligator lunging out of the water to snap
and consume its prey. He smelled the suffocating sweet scent of her
perfume. The smell of it filled him and he could not breath,
thinking of it. He could see her smile. Her eyes glinted with a
predatory nature that could consume him and reminded him of a big cat
about to pounce. He did not want to be what she pounced on. He did
not want to be consumed and be no more. Maybe he did not want to
ever be a man.
The
haunting vision of her lingered in his mind as her words echoes in
memory. “No one wants to hear anything you say. You’re just a
kid, but someday you’ll be a man.” Those were the words he
dreaded. Be a man.
He had
tried to tell his parents how sick she made him feel. They screamed
at him and called him a liar. He was left locked in his darkened
room as they turned the music up so loud no one could hear his
anguished screams or cries. He was alone in the dark. He was
punished and never spoke of it to them again. His aunt seemed
pleased as she reminded him she had told him not to tell.
Stevie
gazed into the distance thinking his own thoughts. His little
shoulder sagged as a wistful expression filled his eyes. Maybe his
parents did love him in their own way. Many thoughts and memories
flooded his little mind. There were times his father smiled and
appeared to be proud of Stevie. His mother would buy him some
special toy and tell him it was because they loved him. They must
love him because he had a lot of toys. It wasn’t often, but there
were other times when he thought they loved him, like when they went
camping together on the piece of land his father had bought in the
Missouri Ozarks. It was a beautiful wooded area with lakes and
trails. The only time Stevie ever felt free was when they were
camping. His parent still got drunk, but they were nicer to him and
there were no bedrooms to lock him in. If friends came along, as they
did from time to time, he just stayed out of their way. His aunt
never went camping.
From as
early as Stevie could think, he had realized the only time anybody
noticed he existed, was if he did or said things that made them
angry. But he didn’t care if they yelled at him and called him
names. He didn’t care if they got mad, because he felt angry all
the time. He was sure they never thought or cared if he was angry.
Many
conflicting and disturbing thought flew through his mind remembering
so many things. He remembered more than the things his aunt had
done. He remembered when his father had been angry because he had
argued with him. Before Stevie could catch his breath his father has
picked him up by the neck and held him against the wall. His father
was a big man. His hands had begun to tremble as his anger abated
and he simply released Stevie to fall back on the floor and left the
room. He clenched his jaws together in determination whispering,
“One day I will be all grown up and be so big that people can never
hurt me again”
It seemed
the only person who liked him and cared about his thoughts and
feelings was Danny, but his mother didn’t like him having Danny as
a friend. Besides, she thought Danny was a pretend friend. But he
wasn’t. He was real. He was very real. He didn’t understand how
Danny appeared and disappeared like he did. He shared as much with
Danny one day when he came to visit. “Where did you come from?”
he asked. “I didn’t hear you come in. Did Mom see you? She’ll
be mad. She says you’re just pretend.”
Danny
smiled. “Your Mom can’t see me unless I want her to see me. I’m
your
special friend. They are too stupid to see how special you really
are and too stupid to have me as a friend. They don’t deserve a
boy as fine as you.”
Stevie
hesitated. “I wish you would want mom to see you so she would quit
telling me that you are just make believe. If she could see you, then
she wouldn’t get mad at me when I talk about you.”
Danny
smiled that patient smile of his again. “It would make no
difference if she could see me. She seems to find things to get mad
about and takes it out on you. She is really mad at herself. Since I
am your special friend, then only you can see me. Do you understand?”
Stevie
thought about it. “I don’t really understand,” he confessed.
“But I’m glad you’re my friend.” He paused thoughtfully
before confiding, “I don’t like it when my Mom’s mean to me.
You’re lucky because you’re big. She can’t just pick you up or
throw you around if she gets mad at you for being my friend. I bet
she’d be afraid to hit you. I’ll be glad when I get big so people
can’t do things to me and hurt me.”
“You’ll
be big soon enough,” Danny told him. He squatted and looked Stevie
in the eye. “I would never hurt you, Stevie.”
Stevie
looked at him uncertainly.
“You can
trust me,” Danny assured him. “I am your special friend and will
be forever. Do you believe me? Do you trust me?”
Stevie
nodded. “I know you’d never hurt me, Danny. You’re too nice to
be mean, like other grownups.”
Again, he
wondered how Danny had got in without the alarm going off. “How did
you get in here without my Dad’s alarm going off?” he asked.
“I told
you before, I’m always around.” Danny stood back up and sat on
the bed. Stevie climbed up beside him. “I looked everywhere and you
weren’t here. I looked everywhere except the basement. I don’t
understand,” he confided, still unable to stifle his curiosity.
“I guess
you didn’t look everywhere then, did you?” Danny smiled. “Don’t
worry about trying to understand. Do you trust me?”
Stevie
frowned in thought for a moment. “Sure I trust you,” he said
hesitantly. A smile suddenly lit his face. “You’re my best
friend, Danny. You’re my only friend. If it’s a secret, you can
tell me.”
“People
can only find and see me when I want them to,” Danny explained
patiently. “That may be hard for you to understand, but if you
really trust me, then you can believe what I tell you and not worry
about it. You’re my friend too. I’ll visit you at times and keep
you company. My visiting is not a secret, but we don’t need to tell
others because they won’t understand. They never listen or care
anyway, so why should we tell them?”
Stevie
looked confused. “It’s just that I don’t understand why Mom
can’t see you. She thinks I’m lying about you and you’re only
in my imagination.”
“Do I
look and sound like your imagination?”
“You
look just like anyone else. I don’t know what you would look like
if you were only in my imagination like Mom says. I think you’re
right that they don’t listen or care anyway.” He moved closer to
Danny with a conspiring smile. “Maybe it could be our secret for
just you and me.” He leaned closer to his new friend as he spoke.
“Why, I
think that is a capital idea,” Danny smiled back. “You are very
smart. If it is a secret that I am here, then we don’t have to
worry what others might think or what to tell them or not tell them.
If we do not tell them anything, there will be nothing for them to
question or get mad about. Would you promise me that you will tell no
one I am here or about anything that we talk about? That would make
me feel better.” Danny lowered his voice as if he did not want
anyone to overhear their secret conversation. “I’ll make you a
promise too.”
Stevie’s
heart raced with excitement as he rose up on one knee reaching out
and touching the arm of Danny sitting beside him. “What?” Stevie
asked excitedly.
“I
promise to look out for you. I promise to be your friend and care
about you and love you. I’ll teach you things and share secrets
with you. I will take care of you and never leave you. Even if you do
not see me, I will be with you always and be a part of you. You will
never have to feel alone. But you must trust me and only me. Do we
have a deal?” He held out his hand to seal their secret pact.
A cold
draft filled the room as they shook hands. Danny smiled again as he
slid his arm around the boy’s tiny shoulders. “I’ll always be
your friend, Stevie. You never have to feel alone again or think that
no one will listen to you. I’ll always listen to you and care about
you.” Stevie smiled as a slight shiver passed through him thinking
he would never be alone again.
There was
a noise outside the door and Stevie tensed. He quickly slid from the
bed and peeked out the door, worried his mother might have overhead
him speaking to Danny. She was loading a large laundry basket to
carry down the steep, narrow, curving stairs to the laundry area in
the basement and had obviously heard nothing. Silently, Stevie eased
the door shut and listened to her footsteps disappearing towards the
stairs. He breathed a sigh of relief. She had forgotten him. She
usually never left him alone in the apartment but maybe she was so
angry with him that she did not care what he did or what might happen
to him.
He turned
to share the good news with Danny. There was no one there. Startled,
his eyes flitted around the room. He ran over to the bed and looked
underneath it. He checked the closet, but there was not a trace of
Danny. Danny had told him that he was special. He hoped one day he
might be special enough he could do magic like Danny, to come and go
and others not see him.
He heard
a loud crashing and bumping sound followed by a shrill scream.
Alarmed, Stevie ran to the door and opened it to see what was
happening. He did not see his mother anywhere and ran to the open
doorway leading down to the basement. The set of stairs turned
several times winding down to the basement from the third floor where
they lived. Stevie began to tremble with building fear not knowing
what to do. He was afraid to go downstairs by himself but also
afraid something had happened to his mother. He called out to her
listening intently to the echoing silence.
“Mom?”
he called. There was no response. He started at the sound of the
front door opening then relaxed a bit as the alarm was silenced. His
father was home.
Michael
called out to his wife as he came into the apartment, but again there
was no response. Seeing Stevie standing by the open door to the
basement, he frowned. “Where is your mother?” he asked gruffly.
“I don’t
know,” Stevie answered fearfully. “I was playing in my room and
heard some weird noises. I think she went to do the laundry. I heard
a scream.”
“Get out
of the way,” Michael barked and stomped down the stairs.
Stevie
immediately realized something was wrong as he watched his parents
making their way slowly up the narrow stairs. His father was almost
carrying his mother who could hardly walk. Stevie moved out of their
way quickly as his father took her to the living room and helped her
to the couch. Worriedly, he watched as his father checked his
mother’s head, arms and the back of her legs. There were bruises
everywhere. Michael went and got her a glass of water. “What the
hell happened?” he asked as he handed it to her.
“Michael,
you have no idea what I go through.” She winces in pain as she
continues. She puts a hand to her head. “I am lucky I lived
through this. It could have killed me, and for what? I went
downstairs to do the laundry,” Marsha explained between sobs and
tears. “I felt someone push me from behind and the next thing I
knew I was falling down the stairs. I hit my head where the stairs
turn sharply. Someone pushed me, I tell you. I was carrying the
laundy basket and someone… I felt hands on my back…. Pushed me
down the stairs. This is serious and you act like you don’t even
care.”
“You
left Stevie alone upstairs?”
“I was
so upset by the way he was behaving, I decided to let him stay in his
room and play while I put the laundry in to wash. It would only take
me a moment.” Marsha covered her face with her hands making her
speech muffled. “Maybe you just don’t care? I could have died
and it was no accident.” She raised her head and shot Stevie an
accusing look as she wiped the tears with the back of her hand, “He
was the only other person in the apartment. Do you hear what I am
saying?”
Michael
glanced at Stevie. He had been at the top of the stairs looking down
when he came home. But he was too small to be able to push an adult
down the stairs. On the other hand, it might have been possible to
knock Marsha off balance if she had both hands full with that big
laundry basket. He hated to think his son would do such a thing, but,
as Marsha had said, there was no one else in the apartment.
“Are you
sure you were pushed?” he asked Marsha. “Maybe you lost your
balance trying to carry that big basket.”
Marsha
rubbed her head where a dark bruise was forming. “I’m sure. I
know when I’ve been pushed. I could feel hands on my back and then
down I went. That little son of a bitch was getting back at me
because he got in trouble earlier.” She started sobbing again. “You
don’t know what it’s like to have to deal with him day in day
out. You have no idea how hard it is for me. He still talks about his
stupid imaginary friend all the time like he is real. Maybe he is
the one that pushed me. You need to do something about him, Michael.
I can’t deal with him anymore. I could have died.”
Stevie
froze in fear as he looked from his mother to his father who had now
turned to face him. “Well, you heard what she said. What have you
got to say for yourself? Did you push your own mother down the
stairs?’ His voice was harsh with barely contained anger as he
continued, “Why do you act up all of the time and cause all these
problems? Why?”
Stevie’s
voice quivered as he tried to explain. “I’d never hurt Momma. I
love my Momma. I was playing in my bedroom. I don’t know what
happened to her. I heard weird noises and a scream. I went to look
for her, but I couldn’t find her, and then you got home and…I
love Momma.”
“When I
came in, you were standing at the top of stairs. If you didn’t push
her then tell me who did? Don’t try to blame it on your invisible
friend either.” Michael’s voice rose as his anger increased.
Stevie
fought the tears that were threatening to come. Why were they blaming
him? How could they believe he would do such a thing? “I was
looking down the stairs trying to find out where Momma was. I was
afraid to go down to the basement by myself and I could not find her.
I called to her but she never answered.” Steven was honestly
perplexed as his mother had blamed him for many things and was often
angry with him but she seemed to actually believe he had tried to
harm her. He knew that the only other person in the apartment was
Danny as the alarms had never sounded. He felt sure Danny would
never harm anyone. He was filled with goodness and helped people.
He had promised to keep his secret and said not a word about Danny to
his parents. The night became one more memory of fear, pain and
misery.
Days
later, the bruises all over his small body had become dark purple,
black and yellow. The dark bruises around his neck where his father
had dug into his throat resembled the purple petals of a flower. His
body ached all over, but the pain and emptiness he felt inside hurt
much worse than his battered and beaten little body. He spent most of
the time in his bedroom. Feeling no desire to play with his toys, he
sat in the corner of the room watching tiny particles of dust swirl
in the swath of a sunbeam that had made its way through the window.
He slowly rose to sit in the little chair by the window and gazed at
the people coming and going on the street below. Seeing the cars
passing by, he wished he had someplace to go where he would be safe
and happy.
“I’ve
missed you, my little friend,” the familiar voice behind him said.
Stevie turned to see Danny standing at the bedroom door.
“I
should have come to see you sooner, but sometimes time gets away from
me. One day is like all days. How have you been?”
As usual,
Stevie had not heard the door open. He heard no alarm sound on the
outside doors. He would never understand how Danny came and went as
he did, but he was relieved to see him. Even then, he could not shake
the depression and feeling of misery he had felt since his mother
fell and he had been blamed. He was sure neither of his parents loved
him and he didn’t know what to do to earn their love. No matter how
hard he tried, he was always in the wrong. Feeling so lonely he was
sure that Danny was his only friend but also the only person who
liked him at all. He felt more than lonely. He felt alone and
isolated. He felt empty.
“If you
don’t feel like talking, I can always come back another time,”
Danny said gently.
Stevie
rose from his chair. “Oh, no, I’m glad to see you. It’s just
that...well,...I’m glad to see you.” He had been unable to rouse
from the depression and feeling of misery he had felt since his
mother fell and he had been blamed.
“You
don’t look too happy. Is it anything you want to talk about or that
I might be able to help with?” Danny walked over to the window
where Stevie had been sitting and sat down cross-legged on the floor.
Stevie
looked at Danny somberly. “My mom and dad both hate me. Everything
is always my fault even if I don’t know how things happened or what
happened, it’s still my fault.”
“What
are they blaming you for this time?” Danny asked in the soothing
voice that always had a calming effect on Stevie.
“Something
bad happened,” Stevie said with a defeated sigh.
“Have
there been bad things happening? Seeing Stevie hesitate, he added,
“You can tell me anything.”
He
observed Stevie as he patiently waited for the child to answer.
“Everything
here is bad. Momma fell down the basement stairs and told my dad that
I pushed her. I would never push my momma down the stairs or try to
hurt her. I don’t know why she would tell him that. I told him the
truth and he still got mad and beat me.” Overcome by emotion, he
stopped speaking. He sat with his head hung down and tears glistening
in his eyes.
Danny
frowned as he looked at Stevie’s neck. “Your dad is the one that
put those marks on you, isn’t he?”
At first,
Stevie didn’t answer. When he did, his voice was little more than a
whisper. “I know he didn’t mean to hurt me like he did. He was
just mad because of the lie mom told him. I try not to make them mad
at me, but no matter what, I’m always bad. I really don’t know
why my Momma would lie and say I tried to hurt her. Why would she
say something like that?”
“Well,
how is your mom doing now? Danny patiently waited as Stevie wiped
his hand across drying his eyes.
“She’s
the same as always. She just likes to sit around and suck her beer
and blame me for anything that is bad that happens so Dad gets mad at
me and not her.” Stevie’s voice rose slightly with the anger he
felt. “She says I am always so bad nobody would ever want me.”
“You are
not bad at all. You are one of the best little boys I have ever
known. Your dad should learn to listen to you more and your mom
should drink less beer and pay more attention. Maybe if she drank
less, she would not fall down stairs. None of that is your fault. You
need to know that and believe me.” For the first time since Stevie
had known him, there was anger in Danny’s voice. Danny’s face
seemed rigid with a frown creasing his forehead. Stevie looked at
him nervously, but quickly realized Danny was not angry with him, but
on his account. He felt relief that there was someone who believed in
him and didn’t blame him for things he had not done.
Stevie
visited with Danny for some time and found it a relief to be able to
talk about the things on his mind and in his life. He did not
confide in other people after he had tried to tell his parents about
the things his aunt did and said when she stayed with him and they
were alone. He had told the truth and been punished and called a
liar.
After a
while, Danny said, “What about your aunt? I’ve seen her here a
few times.”
Stevie sat
silently thinking. He did not like to think about what his aunt did
to him or how he felt, but Danny was his real friend and the only one
he could talk to about his problems.
“I don’t
like my auntie Lee. She does things and then lies about it. She gets
me in trouble and I don’t like her. I can’t say anything about
her though or everyone says I’m a liar and then I get into real bad
trouble. I wish she would never come back.” He hung his head again.
“I don’t want to talk about her anymore. It makes me feel bad to
even think about her.”
“You
don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to talk about. I
just want you to know you are not alone anymore. You have a friend.
You have me. I will always listen to you and believe you. I care
about you and would always try to help you. I will take care of
you.”
“Want to
draw pictures with me?” Stevie asked hopefully. Without waiting for
an answer, he went to his closet to find his coloring book and
crayons. As he rummaged through the closet, he heard Danny say, “I
can’t stay long right now, but maybe you could make me some
pictures for the next time I visit.”
Stevie
stuck his head out of the closet to answer. “I’ll make you a
bunch of pictures, but can’t you stay and color with me for just a
little while? Danny?” Stevie stood with his coloring book in hand
gazing about the empty room. He had not heard the door open or a
single footstep but Danny was nowhere to be seen, Once again, Danny
had vanished. Danny’s mysterious appearances and disappearances
bothered Stevie as he was unable to understand how he accomplished it
but it did not make him afraid. This time, Stevie was determined to
find out how he disappeared like magic. Remembering a movie with
secret places behind the walls he had once seen, he began tapping on
the walls to find a hidden entrance to the room. It was the only
explanation. As he reached the center of the wall, his bedroom door
opened. His mother stood in the doorway staring at him. There was
beer on her breath but she did not seem angry.
“What
are you doing?” Marsha asked. “I heard you tapping on the walls.”
Stevie
thought quickly. He paused for only a moment before he spoke. He
knew whatever he told her, it couldn’t be the truth. His parents
had warned him not to keep insisting that Danny was real and Danny
had asked him to keep it a secret between only them. “I saw a TV
show about old houses. Some of them had secret passages and places to
hide in the walls. Maybe since this is an old house there’s some
treasure or something hidden in the walls. This house is really old,
isn’t it?”
Marsha
laughed and Stevie thought he saw a glimmer of love in her eyes. The
sound of his mother’s laughter made him happy, even if she was
laughing at him.
“This
house is plenty old,” Marsha smiled. “But I don’t think you’ll
find any treasure. But knock on the walls all you want. Just don’t
knock any holes in them we’ll have to fix. I wouldn’t knock too
loud though or you might wake up a ghost or two.”
“What do
you mean?” Stevie asked curiously.
Marsha
smiled wisely. “As old as this house is, there was probably more
than one person who died here. I’ve read a lot about things like
that in my books. I’m actually kind of an expert on spirits and
special things like that.”
Stevie
stared at her in wonder. He had never seen her seem so interested in
talking to him. But he loved the feeling she wanted to be with him
and he wanted her good mood to last. He tried to think of something
to say that would prolong it. Cautiously, he cleared his throat.
“That’s really neat,” he said, hoping that was the right thing
to say. Seeing it seemed to be, he went on to ask, “Do you really
think there might be ghosts in our house? What does a ghost look
like?”
Marsha
gave him an amused look. She pulled her shoulders back, seeming to
stretch even taller than usual as she stood in the doorway. “I’m
afraid you’re way too young to understand such things. Maybe when
you get older we can talk about the supernatural.”
He had
never seen her seem so interested in talking to him. He loved the
feeling that she wanted to be with him and wanted to prolong her good
mood. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Could you tell me
and teach me things? I could try and understand,” Stevie pleaded.
“What is supernatural? If you tell me things then I could learn.”
He was desperate for more of this attention she was giving him and it
was obvious that talking about these things put her in a good mood.
“Do you really think there might be ghosts in our house? What
would a ghost look like? How would you know if it was a real ghost?
Where do ghosts come from?
“Maybe,
some other time I can teach you some things. I have a lot of books
about things like that. I’m sure if there was a ghost in our house
I would be the first to know about it and be able to contact it.”
To his disappointment, she changed the subject. “There are hot
dogs, chips and cookies for lunch. You can eat in the kitchen or
bring it in here if you want.” She opened the door a little
farther to let him out.
“I want
to eat with you. It would be fun.” He smiled up at her hopefully,
hungry for more attention.
Marsha
hesitated. She turned toward the kitchen with Stevie following
closely behind. “You go ahead and eat. I’m not hungry yet,” she
said, opening the refrigerator and taking a cold hot dog from the top
shelf. She placed it on a paper plate on the table where she had
already laid out a bag of chips and another of cookies for him. He
sat, still hoping she would keep him company even though she wasn’t
hungry. She went back to the refrigerator and returned with a can of
soda for him and a can of beer for herself. She hadn’t been sitting
for a minute before the telephone rang.
Stevie
listened to her talking on the phone while he ate. He soon realized
she was talking to a woman named Janet Mason who was married to his
father’s best friend. The Masons were one of the couples that often
came on the weekends to party, drink and get high with his parents.
Like his parents, they didn’t think of themselves as drug users
because they smoked marijuana and popped a few pills. They were just
partying and having fun like everybody else. Stevie didn’t mind
Janet and Mark Mason. They didn’t get mean with him or make his mom
and dad get mad at him because of things they said about him.
Sometimes, they even visited him in his room as he was not allowed
out of his room when guests were there. Sometimes, if they were the
first to arrive, he got to leave his room and talk with them for a
while.
Stevie
hated when their son Greg came with them to visit. He was older than
Stevie and as mean as a boy could be. He loved to break Stevie’s
toys and then tell them that Stevie did it himself. Stevie not only
lost his toys that were broken but was also in trouble for the
damages and destruction. It seemed like everywhere he turned there
was someone who told lies and blamed him for things he had not done.
He
continued to eat his lunch, vaguely listening to his mother’s end
of the conversation at the same time. “Michael mentioned you were
coming over later and we could cook something on the grill.” Stevie
cringed as he heard her say, “We never mind having Greg...I know
how hard it can be to find a sitter. My sister sits for us, but it’s
always a hassle. Stevie gets his little attitude going then starts
telling some of his stories and some days I just don’t know what to
do with him. I know what you mean. He makes up some of the weirdest
stories. His newest thing is his little imaginary friend. He swears
up and down that he’s real. He even goes all over looking for
him…Really?...Greg had one too? So you think it’s normal?...I
never thought of it that way....Well, I guess we just won’t worry
about it anymore then. I didn’t realize so many kids had imaginary
friends and that they even did specials on TV about it.”
They
continued to talk, but Stevie had ceased to listen. He knew his
mother would be busy for some time with her phone call and any chance
for them spending time together was lost. At least she had been nice
to him. He finished his hotdog, had a few bites of chips, took two
cookies out of the bag and left the kitchen.
On the way
back to his bedroom, he suddenly remembered his mother falling on the
basement stairs. He had become curious about the basement after that.
He had never really explored it because of the strange feelings he
had when he was down there. And there were bad memories of one area
where his aunt took him to help him become a man and teach him not to
be afraid. When he had told her he was afraid of being in the
basement, she had become obsessed with making him go down there,
going as far as to turn the lights out and leave him there to find
his own way out. He shuddered, remembering the terror he had felt
when he was alone in the dark and the sickness and shame he had felt
because of the things she had done to him there. He had given up any
idea of trying to tell his parents after all the trouble it had been
for him before. None ever listened or believed him before but Danny
listened. Danny believed him.
He paused
at the door to the stairway leading to the basement, visualizing the
large, dark room. It was divided into different rooms. The room near
the stairs on the right was the laundry room. Across from it was a
small room that looked like a living room with old, large,
overstuffed furniture. He shuddered. This was where his aunt would
take him to teach him how to become a man. He was not sure what else
there was in the basement, because he had always been afraid to go
and explore at the times he accompanied his mother to do the laundry.
Stevie stood there for a while, curious about what he would find, but
not curious enough to go down by himself.
He turned
on his heels, deciding he would go and color the pictures he wanted
to make for the next time Danny came to visit. He never knew how or
when Danny would show up. He worked for hours and tried to do his
best. He spent the rest of the afternoon painstakingly coloring the
pictures for Danny, trying his best to stay within the lines. By the
time he finished, he had a stack. He surveyed his handiwork proudly.
He could hardly wait to give them to Danny. He wished he knew how to
call him or find him, but he knew he would just have to wait for him
to appear as he chose.
As he put
his artwork carefully away, he heard the sound of the alarm. His
father was home from work. Stevie eased his bedroom door open to
listen before he went out to greet his father. He had learned the
hard way it was always best to see what kind of a mood Michael was in
before he showed his face. And he knew it was wise to let his mother
have time to talk to him first. If he interrupted their conversation,
they would be mad at him for the whole night.
He heard
them laughing as they talked and decided he was safe. As he timidly
slipped into the kitchen, Michael spotted him and smiled. “Hey,
champ. How’s it been going? What have you been doing today?”
Stevie
beamed. “It’s been going great, Dad. I worked hard and colored
some really good pictures. Want to see them? I’ll go get them.”
Before his father had a chance to answer, he took off to go get the
pictures.
Stevie
returned with his masterpieces. He found his parents talking about
the evening to come. His face fell when he heard Greg Mason would be
coming with his parents. Stevie didn’t like Greg Mason and hated
when he came to visit. He actually detested the boy. The smile
faded from Stevie’s face as he heard his father say how great ti
would be. He wanted to show off his new stereo system. He mentioned
that Stevie could keep Greg busy playing and they could both have a
good time. Stevie thought that Greg would be busy tormenting him.
It would be a long and unpleasant evening. Feeling deflated and
dreading the evening to come, he slunk off to his room without
showing his father his pictures.
If he
tried to tell what Greg did then Janet would throw a fit defending
her son as if he were a saint. Her son never did anything wrong.
Stevie would then be accused of telling lies and being the one to
break the toys and causing any other problems Greg decided to do for
entertainment like when he colored on the walls. Stevie wish that
his mother would stand up for him and to Janet just once but she
always backed down from the loud intense way that Janet argued her
son’s innocence. Sadly Stevie thought there would never come a
time anyone would want to stand up for him, believe him or defend
him.
Stevie
did not have long to think about what the evening would hold before
the door to his room opened. Janet and his mother were there with
Greg standing there smiling and a glint in his eyes.
“You
boys play nice now. We don’t want any problems like before. Greg
has missed getting to come here and see you, Stevie. Maybe you will
be nice and share with him.” Janet thought her son could do no
wrong and apparently Marsha would always agree with her friend and
side against Stevie rather than stand up to her in any confrontation
or argument. All Janet had to do was get the angry attitude and loud
to be able to make Marsha agree with her. In many ways her son was a
lot like she was. They could be loud and mean when they wanted to,
until others just agreed with them or gave in and let them have their
way.
As soon as
the door closed Stevie tried to gather his drawings to find a safe
place for them. Greg lunged into him knocking him half off his feet
causing him to drop the stack of pictures he has worked so hard on
scattering on the floor. Greg began stepping all over the pictures
with his feet laughing and asking, “What ugly crap is this? I bet
it is something you did. It looks dumb and ugly enough to be yours.”
Stevie did
not bother to answer Greg. He knew from experience that it only
offered him more opportunity to taunt, tease and abuse him. Stevie
quietly and quickly tried to gather what he could of his drawings.
Without warning Greg stopped stepping on the pictures and stomped his
fingers and hands. In a swift kick he caught Stevie so hard it
knocked him breathless on his side. The moment allowed time to rip
the pictures into little pieces. That was the beginning of a long
night ahead.
Stevie
knew he could not defend against the older boy. He knew if he tried
to tell or confide it would end with him in trouble and he would be
accused of telling lies. All he had left he could do was survive the
night and hope the day would be better.
Stevie
woke the next morning curled up on the floor in a corner of his room.
Pieces of the pictures he had spent the entire afternoon before
coloring were scattered all over the carpet. Greg had torn them to
bits and, in addition, broken the new truck Stevie had enjoyed
playing with. When he had tired of the destruction, he had taken
Stevie’s bed and left Stevie to lie on the floor.
Stevie
looked around him in frustration. He picked up the broken truck and
began to beat it on the floor, tears of rage and hurt running
silently down his face. The door to his bedroom flew open and he
looked up blinking away the tears. His mother and father stood in the
doorway glaring at him.
Michael
was the first to speak, but it was Marsha who got the brunt of his
anger this time. “You bitch about Janet saying Greg wasn’t the
one that broke all the toys. You can look right here for yourself and
see the truth. I guess you and Stevie will blame Greg. I blame you.
If you’d ever get off your lazy ass and teach our son how to
behave, we wouldn’t have these problems. You don’t clean house or
cook meals or do anything but drink you beer and read you goofy
books. Why don’t you cast one of your witch’s spells and turn
Stevie into a normal kid instead of the little puke he really is? You
are both worthless. You don’t appreciate anything that I work my
ass off to buy you. I’m going out.”
“I don’t
have to listen to your shit,” Marsha shrieked. “You don’t have
any idea what I have to put up with all day. Where the hell are you
going and when will you be back?”
“I’m
going out and I won’t be back until I’m good and ready. When I do
get back, I want to see this place cleaned up.” With that, he
turned abruptly and left.
It seemed
like a long time that Marsha remained in the doorway of Stevie’s
room staring at him. When she finally spoke, it was through clenched
teeth. “Why? Why do you always screw things up? I can’t believe I
actually took up for you and told them that Greg was no angel and he
was the one who broke your toys. I told them you didn’t do it and
here you are breaking the shit out of your favorite truck. Say
something you retarded little turd.” She kicked a small truck lying
on the floor so hard it flew across the room striking Stevie on the
shoulder. He cried out in pain.
“If you
think that hurt, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Marsha snarled.
“I won’t put up with your dad getting pissed at me for the crap
you do. I’m giving you ten minutes to clean up this room. He wants
me to teach you how behave? I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t
ever forget. Any toys you haven’t put away will be thrown out and
you’ll get a swat for every little piece of anything I see on this
floor. When you get done, you can clean the rest of the house to make
up for causing me so many problems.” She then left the room,
slamming the door behind her.
It was a
miserable day for Stevie. The day was a long day, as many days were
for him and a misery that Stevie would try to block from his mind and
memory. He tried to think of happy times to cheer himself up, but
there were very few of those. It seemed the only time he felt happy
was when his friend, Danny, came to visit. Tears filled his young
eyes as he surveyed the pieces of the pictures he had made for Danny.
He had taken his time coloring them and done his best. He had been so
proud of them and imagined Danny smiling and thanking him and saying
how beautiful they were. Danny was his only friend. He could tell
Danny about all of the occurrences, hardships, heartaches and
troubles of his little life.
No one
could ever know he talked to Danny about these things. His parents
had both told him never to confide in anyone other than them about
anything that happened in the family. Recently, they had been harping
at him that he would start school soon and needed to listen to them
and do as they said. They insisted that nothing that went on in their
home or with them was to be talked about with anyone at school, no
matter how nice that person might be. He was to trust no one.
To make
sure he took them seriously, they told him a story about a little boy
that complained about his parents. They told him when a boy gets into
trouble it proves he’s a bad boy. “They take bad boys and put
them either in a prison for children, or foster homes where they are
punished all of the time and have to eat nothing but scraps,” his
father had warned ominously. “If they still tell stories about
people being mean to them, they are put in a worse foster home and
are beaten all of the time. Foster homes are for punishing bad
children.” They often repeated stories of terrible things that
happened when a child told things about their homes and families.
Each story they thought up was worse than the one before.
Stories
such as these, designed to frighten Stevie, were repeated often to
discourage him from talking about their parties with excessive
drinking, marijuana smoking and drug use. What Stevie didn’t know
was his father made quite a bit of money during these parties selling
different kinds of drugs for a tidy profit. Michael and Marsha were
aware there were anti-drug programs in the schools. Often children
talked about what went on at home and parents ended up getting
arrested. Whatever it took, they had to make sure Stevie kept his
mouth shut.
CHAPTER 2
Starting school was both a
new adventure and intimidating for Stevie. He had never been around
many children, so he did not know what to expect. He had thought
about many things but one he felt he needed to consider was using the
name Steve or Steven instead of Stevie. He thought the other
children might think Stevie sounded like a baby name. He just hoped
not all children were like Greg. The experience he had had with Greg
was not something he looked forward to dealing with every day. In the
beginning, he was afraid of the teachers and principle. His parents
had been very thorough in teaching him to never trust and never tell
anything. They had described how people might act as if they cared or
were his friend so they could get him to tell them things that would
get him and his whole family in trouble. But Stevie was sure he would
not get suckered in. He wanted to find a way to do well in school
and make his parents proud of him. He dreamed of seeing his father
smile and tell him that he did good.
Danny had come to visit
shortly before his first day at school. Danny had reassured him that
school might be very nice and he might have a good time and learn
many new things. Danny had said most children were not like Greg.
There would always be a bully to deal with, but most children were
just children. He might even make a few friends.
Steven was very bright and
advanced in the learning they required of children entering school.
He not only had many learning toys but often had Danny teaching him
things he would need to know and wanted to learn.
When the big day finally
arrived, Michael was running late. Michael reached into the cabinet
beside the refrigerator in the kitchen retrieving a package of
toaster pastries. Sunshine filled the kitchen with cheerful rays
that often were unnoticed by those who lived in the place. They had
never gathered there for a family meal or time to share and be with
one another. I stored food and kept the beer cold. Michael had a
new set of tools in a black caring case he retrieved from beside the
kitchen table in a hurry to be on his way. Despite the fact that it
was he who was not on time, he was short tempered with Stevie,
demanding he hurry, but Stevie was too excited to notice. He was
already ready with his backpack over his shoulder. Michael handed
Stevie one of the breakfast pastry packages without taking time to
explain or ask if he wanted one. Proudly, he followed his father to
the truck wearing his new backpack with his breakfast in a shiny
silver package in his hand.
When they finally arrived
at school, Michael reached over and opened the door of the truck for
Stevie.
Stevie looked at Michael
nervously as he got out of the truck. “You’re not coming with me,
Dad?”
“No, I’m running
late,” Michael grunted impatiently, pointing to a woman by the door
of the school. “That’s probably a teacher right there. You go
tell her you need help to find your class and they’ll make sure
that you find the right room. Make sure you remember what we told
you about trusting and talking to people here. I am counting on you
son.” Steven had no idea how much money his father made with his
parties and friends that came and went buying drugs from him.
Michael had big ambitions to make even more in the near future.
Michael could not afford to have Steven telling any stories about
them or ones like what he had said about his aunt. The plan they had
was for him to drop Steven off at the school in the morning and his
mother to meet him at the bus stop when he came home from school.
Steven hoped his mother
really would meet him and walk with him from the corner at the end of
the block where the bus would let him out on the way home. He was
afraid to walk alone to his house but could not believe she would
stay sober enough to remember and meet him. She was usually asleep
at that time. There was no time left to fear. His big moment had
arrived.
Reluctantly, Stevie did as
he was told. He was more frightened than he had ever been. Tears came
to his eyes as he walked over to the woman and looked up at her
wordlessly. She spotted the lost look of the beautiful little boy as
he approached and stood before her.
“Is this your first day
at school?” she smiled down at him, seeing the fear in his eyes and
understanding all too well.
Stevie nodded mutely as he
handed her the piece of paper with his class information. She quickly
saw his teacher would be Mrs. Thomas. Before she could explain about
his class or teacher, an older student stopped to say hello. The
woman greeted the young woman and asked if she would mind walking
Stevie to his class. The girl cheerfully agreed and they headed down
the hall to his class to begin his first day of school.
Marsha was relieved to
have Stevie out of her hair and grabbed a beer as soon as he’d left
for school that first day. She read a bit and then played around on
her computer, glad to be free to do as she pleased.
She glanced up from the computer and
surveyed the dolls displayed on the shelf against the wall. The
collection had grown considerably. Marsha had developed quite an
interest in buying things online. Whenever Michael complained, her
response was always that her dolls were an investment that would only
grow in value. She smiled as her eyes fell on a doll she had not been
able to resist buying. She had not dared tell Michael she’d bought
it. There were numerous other things she had collected since their
marriage and each time she claimed it was an investment. When she
tired of her collection or attention diverted to something new, the
expensive collectables often ended up sold for pennies at the local
flea market or swap meet. Marsha never considered how much something
cost when she ordered any and everything she wanted. Michael almost
became violent when he found out what she had really paid for her
'collectables' and was even more intense when he realized she sold
them a few months later. His anger did not curb her buying but
inspired her to better hide her purchases. Complain about her
spending as Michael did, Marsha was not one to worry about money.
That was a husband’s responsibility, in her opinion. He could curse
and tell her how stupid she was as much as he liked, but he would
never know how much she actually spent unless he saw a purchase being
delivered or checked the charge card statement. She knew he probably
never would. He didn’t pay attention to that kind of thing.
Worriedly, she wondered
how Stevie was doing in school on his first day. She let out a long
sigh thinking of her little son.
She gazed into the distance as she wound
a long strand of her dark hair round and round her finger. Chewing
on her lower lip as she frowned in concentration, she tried to
visualize him at school. Would he remember not to talk about what
went on at home? The last thing they needed was to have outsiders
getting into their personal life. She and Michael were both nervous
Stevie might make a slip that would cause problems. They didn’t
think selling a little marijuana or a few pills was a crime. People
could get drugs anywhere if that was what they wanted, so why not get
them from Michael so he could make a little on the side? It wasn’t
as though he forced anyone to buy or use anything they didn’t want.
All Michael did was make it easy for a few friends to get what they
wanted. Fortunately for him, the circle of friends was growing.
Michael even felt some pride that he had made contacts and would be
the one to make the profits. He talked with Marsha about it and
laughed. “It’s not like we are drug dealers or something. All
we do is make it easier and help a few of our friends to get good
deals and make life a little easier at the same time. It is amazing
though, how many friends a man can have when he has some really good
weed.”
Marsha smiled thinking of
the money they made but became anxious thinking of Steven at school
all day with all the strangers and other children. When Marsha was
worried, or afraid, or happy, or sad, or nervous or almost any other
emotion or excuse she had a customary response. She would try to
relax and drink a beer. She would just drink one and then one more
and it was always just the one, one more. She did not notice the
bright sunshine in the kitchen as she headed directly to the
refrigerator on her quest. She retrieved a beer and did not even
wait to close the door to the refrigerator before smiling as she
heard the familiar hiss when she opened the can.
After a while, she went to
take her customary afternoon nap. The curtains close in the living
room muted the light as she lay back on the sofa to get comfortable.
She had finished many beers and felt the need for sleep. She did not
notice the cold draft that flowed through the room. She did not
notice the shadows darken. Hours had flown by when she woke with a
start. What time was it? Panicking, she scrambled out of bed and
quickly brushed her hair. The school bus would be arriving any
minute. She knew Stevie would be able to find his way home, but
Michael would be livid if he found out she had not met him when he
got off the bus.
She rushed down the stairs
and out the door, locking it behind her. The school bus would be
there any minute now. Marsha hurried along the sidewalk leading to
the corner where the bus was about to arrive. Uneasily, she glanced
at the loiterers lurking on the street, in cars and on the front
steps of the houses. Thinking how unsafe she felt without Michael,
she hurried her pace and arrived at the corner just as the large
yellow bus pulled to a stop. She had worried about her own safety
but thought only of how Michael would be angry with her if she did
not be there for their son. She never considered his feelings or
safety.
The shrill voices of
children spilled out of the bus as Marsha watched her son coming down
the steps. He looked so tiny compared to the older children. He
little legs were stretched out as he hopped from step to step. At
home, he seemed almost grown up. He was so bright. She thought of all
the times she and Michael had said things like, “As big as you
are....and...You are old enough to know better.” Now, he looked
like a baby as he came up to her smiling.
Smiling back at him, she
reached for his backpack. “How was your first day of school?”
He was so excited to see
his mother interested in him, he could hardly contain himself. She
had actually asked him about his day. He skipped beside her as he
chattered away. “It was great. It was really great, but I was
scared at first. I didn’t know where to go or what would happen to
me. There was this lady by the door and she was real nice. She made
one of the older girls help me. She’s in the fourth grade. She
knows all about the school, classes and everything. She asked why we
didn’t come to the pre-school welcome day they had before school
for all of the new kids and their parents to find out about where
everything is and where their classes are and what we will be doing.
I told her we didn’t know anything about it.” He spoke so rapidly
he could hardly catch his breath.
Marsha remembered getting
the notice about the pre-school welcome day in the mail. Before that,
the counselor for the grade school had told her about it when she
registered Stevie for school. Marsha hadn’t given it another
thought. She looked down at Stevie, “No, we didn’t know anything
about it. But I’m glad everything worked out fine today.”
Stevie looked somber for a
moment. “I was so scared I could hardly talk at all,” he
confided. Then his enthusiasm returned. “Shelly is the girl that
showed me around. She’s nice. She makes me laugh. She showed me
where the cafeteria is, but we ran out of time and had to go to our
classes. My class is in a different place from her class, but she
walked me all the way to mine. My teacher is really nice. She’s
pretty too and we did a lot of things. They even have a hamster in a
cage in the class. He’s our class pet. I told them that we have a
pet at home too. I told them about Scruffy.” He looked up at Marsha
worriedly. “Was that all right? I know I’m not supposed to talk
about things at home, but all the other kids were talking about their
pets. Is it okay to talk about Scruffy?”
Marsha smiled down at him.
They would have to work with him more for him to understand what they
wanted. The last thing they needed was for him never to talk and or
him tell them he was not allowed to talk about his life at home. She
would talk to Michael. He was better at explaining things to Stevie.
She didn’t have the patience. “I think it’s great to tell them
about Scruffy,” she said before explaining, “It’s not that we
can’t talk about anything about our lives; it’s just that we need
to talk about the happy things so other people don’t misunderstand.
We can talk about things like when your dad takes you outside and
plays with you or when we go camping at the lake. We just don’t
tell people things that are none of their business such as our
friends or the parties. Do you understand?”
“I think so,” Stevie
answered uncertainly. He frowned, but the frown quickly disappeared.
He started skipping again, telling Marsha about his teacher, the
other students, lunch, getting to play in the gym, and the things he
had done during the day. Marsha continued listening, but her smile
had become fixed. She had lost interest. All she could think about
was a nice, cold beer.
When they were safely
inside the apartment, Marsha made sure the door was locked, turned on
the alarm, and got her beer. She gave Stevie a bag of chocolate candy
for a snack and he went to his room to hang a picture he had colored
in class. He had just finished taping it to the wall when he felt a
chill in the air.
“That is a beautiful
picture you have there. Did you do it?” the familiar voice asked.
“I sure did and I did
lots of other cool stuff,” Stevie beamed with pride. “I started
school today.”
“I know. I’ve missed
you,” Danny smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed school, but I knew
you would, because you are so smart.” He studied Stevie’s
picture. “You are good enough at art to become an artist someday.”
“You really think so?”
“You can be anything you
want. You just have to make up your mind to work hard at it.” Danny
sat on the edge of the bed as he continued, “As smart as you are,
you could do anything, Stevie.”
“Thanks, Danny.”
Stevie murmured. He hesitated. “There’s one thing though that
bothers me a little.”
“What is that?”
“I think Stevie is kind
of a baby name. Now I’m going to school, I think I’d like Steven
better. They all call me Steven at school and it kind of makes me
feel grown up. Would you call me Steven?”
Danny laughed. “Of
course I’ll call you Steven. I think Steven is more appropriate
anyway. You are more grown up than your years already.”
Just then, Marsha walked
past the door to Stevie’s room. She paused for a moment. There he
was, talking to that imaginary friend of his again. Perhaps if she
spent more time with him, he might not need imaginary friends to talk
to. It was only a moment before she changed her mind. Listening to
his childish talk either irritated or bored her.
Michael was late getting
home. He had put in a long day and was just about to make himself a whiskey and Coke when Stevie ran into the living room to tell him
about his day at school. Tired as Michael was, he couldn’t resist
the smile that radiated from the face of his small son. He reached
down and picked him up and placed him on his lap. He listened
attentively as Steven told him about everything that happened from
the time he arrived at school to when he and Marsha had walked all
the way back to the apartment from the bus.
“Will Momma come and get
me from the bus every day?” Stevie asked.
“Yes, she will,”
Michael assured him, giving Marsha a warning glance over Stevie’s
head.
Suddenly, Stevie became
very serious. “What’s the matter?” Michael asked.
“Dad, there is a problem
that I want to talk to you about.”
Michael felt a knot
tighten in his stomach as thoughts flashed through his mind of all
the things the problem might be. He tried to relax. He didn’t want
Stevie to know he was worried. He needed to hear what the child had
to say. He believed it was better to be forewarned if there was
trouble on the horizon. “Stevie, you can always tell me anything.
If you ever have a problem, I want to try to help you. I can never
help you if I don’t know what the problem is. You can tell me
anything.”
Steven deliberated for a
minute. He remembered what had happened when he had tried to tell his
father about the things his aunt did to him. He had been punished for
lying. He quickly banished the thought and returned to his problem.
“I don’t want you to call me Stevie anymore,” he said gravely.
“It sounds like a baby name. They call me Steven at school. I like
Steven a lot better. Do you think you and mom could call me Steven
too, even at home? It sounds more grown up. I’m in school now. I’m
not a baby.”
Michael laughed, half with
relief and half with amusement. “I think that’s a great idea,
son,” he agreed, tousling Steven’s hair. “You’re right. I
just never thought about it before. Stevie does sound more like a
baby name and you haven’t been a baby for a long time. If you want
to be called Steven, then Steven it will be. See how easy that was?
If you ever have any more problems, you just come and talk to me. I
want to know all about how things go for you at school.”
The week passed pleasantly
after that. Marsha was on time to meet the bus most of the time. On
the days she was late, she met Steven halfway, but at least he saw
that she was there and did not have to worry about making his way
home alone. But the pleasant interlude didn’t last long. On Friday,
as he and Marsha walked in the door, she rushed off to get dressed.
To Steven’s surprise, his father was home from work early. As he
opened his mouth to speak, Michael snapped, “Put your things away
and stay out the way. We’re late.”
“Where are you going?”
Steven asked nervously.
“We’re going to a
concert. Your aunt Lee is going to stay with you. I don’t want you
giving her any trouble and I don’t want to hear any of your wild
stories either.”
Michael stood before him
and looked him sternly in the eye. “I’m telling you right now.
You do what she says and don’t give her any back talk or problems
or you’ll wish you had never been born. I’ll make you sorry you
were ever born if I hear any more of that crazy shit you said before.
Do I make myself clear?”
Steven cowered under
Michael’s glare. Terrified his father might become violent and hurt
him, he quickly complied. “Yes, Sir.” Remembering how swiftly
his father could become violently angry and not even remember it the
next day, or just say it was his own fault for being such an awful
child renewed a deep fear.
You do what I say and
don’t give her any back talk or problems or you will wish you had
never been born. I’m telling you right now. I don’t want to
hear a word like that crazy talk you told before. Do I make myself
clear?”
“Yes, sir but I don’t
see why I need a babysitter. I am going to school now and not a baby
anymore. I won’t cause any problems but would be fine here by
myself.” Just then, the doorbell rang. Michael went to get the
door.
He smiled and thanked Lee
for coming to stay with Steven. "I've had a talk with Stevie.
I don't think there will be any more problems or misunderstandings
with him. He knows better than tell anymore of his lies or stories.
In fact I told him he had to do whatever you told him to do no matter
what and we did not want to hear one word out of him. You shouldn't
have any more problems."
She smiled a long slow
smile as she stood thinking of the night ahead. "I think we may
just come to a whole new understand between him and me. He has a lot
to learn but I am just the one to teach him."
Michael was thinking of
his plans for the evening as he responded. "Whatever makes you
happy… We appreciate you staying here with him and to make it
easier for everyone you might just plan to spend the night. If it
gets late we will stay with friends instead of trying to come in that
late and come home in the morning." She smiled a sly smile and
gazed over toward Steven.
Steven looked down at the
floor helplessly feeling his stomach tighten and churn. Not wanting
to see his aunt until he had to, he quietly made his way to his
bedroom and closed the door. Silent tears streamed down his face as
he went and huddled in a corner of his room. He buried his face
against his knees and wrapping his arms tightly around his legs, he
cried.
His head jerked up at the
sound of a soft voice near him. “What’s the matter, my little
friend? Whatever it is we can find a way for me to work it out and
help you. There is no problem that we cannot solve together.”’
I told you I would always help. I told you I would never leave you.”
Steven looked up into Danny’s peaceful face. Danny was what he
needed, not his father and mother who always betrayed him. He wanted
a grownup that would listen to him and care about him. His parents
were always too busy to pay him any mind. He desperately needed a
friend, one who would never hurt him. He began crying again.
“Is there anything I can
do to help?” Danny asked gently.
Steven shook his head,
unable to stop the tears. “Nobody can help me. My aunt is a bad
person and I don’t like what she does. I don’t like her.” He
began to sob. “I wish I could die. I wish I could die, so she
couldn’t hurt me ever again.”
“No Steven, never say
you wish you could die or that you want to die. To die is forever. I
believe you and you do not even have to find the words to tell me. I
know all about her and what she does to you. I know she is bad and
that no one believed you when you told the truth about her. I will
help you. There are times no one can see or hear me, but I am always
here. And I promise, she will stop hurting you. Good people should
have good things happen to them, and you are a good boy. Bad people
should be very careful because bad things can happen to them. She
should be afraid. She should be very afraid. They can have
accidents.” He paused and looked at Steven intently. “All you
have to do is trust me. I will tell you what you need to know and
everything will work out for you. I want you to remember your
promise to tell no one about me. Is it a deal?”
Even with the words of
reassurance, Steven could not stop the tears from coursing down his
face. His small body wracked with the silent sobs. Remembering the
words of his father he felt hopeless and filled with dread and
despair.
“I care about you
Steven,” Danny said soothingly. “You don’t have to cry anymore.
All you have to do is trust me and do what I say and everything will
be just fine.”
“I don’t see how
anyone could help me,” Steven argued, but there was hope in his
forming in his heart despite the tears that continued to flow. “She
does whatever she wants and gets away with it by telling her lies and
then I get in trouble.” His little voice broke. “She’s bad.
She’s so bad and nobody will believe me.” Steven was glad that
he was not alone. He felt some comfort that at least one person knew
the truth and did believe him even if that person was someone no one
else could see.
Danny gazed at him for a
moment. “Steven, I have an idea that might help. If your aunt
decides she wants you to go to the basement with her, you have to do
exactly as I tell you. Do not argue with her. If she says you have to
go downstairs, obey her. If she says it is time for you to be a man,
tell her you want to be a man. That way she won’t get mean and hit
you for arguing with her. You have to believe that things will work
out and she will never hurt you again after tonight. But you will
have to do exactly as I say if you want that to happen. Can you do
it?”
Steven wanted to believe
his friend, but he couldn’t see how Danny could help him. He shook
his head doubtfully. Danny smiled and patted him reassuringly on the
back. “It may be hard for you to do what I will tell you to do, but
it will be best for everyone in the end. It will even be best for
your aunt. She will never have to be mean or hurt people again. Do
you believe that?”
“I don’t understand,
but I trust you, Danny. I’ll do whatever you say. I don’t see
how you can save me. I don’t understand how things could work out
for me, like you say. Are you sure that is what you want me to do? ”
He feared his aunt and knew what she was but he also feared the
unknown area down below.
“We are almost out of
time,” Danny interrupted. “Listen carefully. If she tries to get
you to go down to the basement with her, do not be afraid. Do not
argue with her. If you can, walk in front of her and run down the
stairs as quickly as you can and hide. Run to the far end of the
basement and hide.” Danny sounded urgent as he spoke so softly
that Steven could barely hear him.
Steven’s eyes rounded.
“I’ve never been back there,” he balked, torn between his fear
of his aunt and his terror of the basement. “I’m afraid of that
part of the basement. Mom says it’s haunted by an evil spirit. She
says it’s a very evil and dangerous spirit. She says she can feel
its presence, whatever that means. Are you sure you want me to go
there?”
Danny patted his shoulder
reassuringly. “I am positive. There is no evil spirit in the back
of the basement. There is only me. I am what is in the dark depths of
the basement and everywhere else in the house. Now, remember to do
exactly as I’ve told you. Run and hide. I will be with you all
night even if you cannot see me. You have to believe me. You have
to trust me.”
At that moment, the
bedroom door flew open and Lee stood in the doorway. Steven’s heart
pounded. Desperately, he glanced around the room to see if Danny was
gone. He glanced back at his aunt. She was smiling the smile he
dreaded so much.
“We can just have
sandwiches and chips for supper to make it quick and easy. I have
some very special plans for you. You may not understand now, but you
will eventually and you will learn how to really enjoy. I can hardly
wait for us to get started." As she turned toward the kitchen,
he heard her say, “You may start out this evening as a boy but I
guarantee before the sun comes up you will be a real man. It's just
you and me tonight boy, and there is no one going to interrupt our
little fun time. I am just the woman to make you a real man."
Steven felt sick and the tears burned in his eyes hearing her words
and knowing what she planned to do to him.
Steven tried to blink away
the tears that were threatening to come again. He knew he had to be
brave and do what Danny had told him, but he was a little boy, not a
man. He did not want her to do the nasty things she did to him. He
wiped his eyes and started to walk toward the kitchen where she
waited for him. His stomach tied in a knot and each breath seemed
harder than the last. “I’m right here and you are not alone,”
he heard Danny say. “Do not worry, my little friend. Before the sun
rises, all of these problems will be gone. Be brave and do as I tell
you, and everything will work out just fine.”
Steven spun around,
but the room was empty. He felt as if a tight band still constricted
his breathing and his stomach hurt through to his backbone but he
clung to the thought he would not be alone. He had little hope for a
rescue from a friend that no one could see but him, but at least
there was one who knew the truth and would not leave him.
In the kitchen, Steven
managed to force down his sandwich and a few chips, praying the whole
time his aunt would not want to go to the basement. The only way he
could stand to eat, was knowing the longer he took eating his
sandwich was the longer he could delay whatever plans his aunt had.
His hopes were in vain. It wasn’t long before she smiled, saying it
was time. His stomach retched as his he was unable to breathe in the
fumes of her sickening perfume and she grabbed him by the arm leading
him toward the basement stairs. The stench of her smell and sound of
her voice etched in his memory. He closed his eyes and forced
himself not to resist as he heard her say, “I’m just the woman to
make you a man.” Remembering Danny’s words, he opened his eyes
and looked up at her. He did not hear the words out loud but felt
the right words come to him. “I want to be a man. Let’s go and
you can show me all the things I need to know.” He repeated the
words aloud.
Lee’s mouth fell open in
surprise. The look of surprise was immediately replaced by one of
anticipation. “Come on then, let’s get to it. I’ll show you a
whole new world.” She led him by the arm to the top of the stairs.
Steven eased himself in front of her and looked down. He took a deep
breath. Suddenly, he bounded down the stairs, never slacking speed
until he hit the bottom. As if running for his life, he raced toward
the far recesses of darkness in the basement. He looked around him,
panting from excursion and fear. It was so dark, he could hardly see
anything.
As his eyes became
adjusted to the dark, he began taking small cautious steps toward the
back. He stopped as he remembered what his mother had said about an
evil spirit. What if it were true? But Danny had said there was no
evil spirit, only him. Hesitantly, Steven continued to the room at
the very back, stopping every now and then to listen for sounds. All
he could hear was his own breathing.
At last, he got to the
room. He stood perfectly still listening. He listened not only to
hear if his aunt was close behind but also for any threats that might
lurk in the darkness that surrounded him. He peered into the
darkness unable to see bust using his hands to feel his way. He
noticed the space was furnished. He felt around with his hands. There
was an upholstered chair of some kind. He crouched against it
waiting. What if she found him and became so angry she did worse
things to him than before? Time seemed to stretch into eternity as he
waited and listened, hoping Danny would come and tell him what to do
next. He had never been so afraid.
Out of nowhere, there was
a terrible scream followed by thumping sounds and a loud thud. A
wave of cold seemed to flow through the basement. Steven trembled
violently but never noticed if he was cold or not. The sound of the
scream echoed in his mind and repeated in memory even in the silence
that followed. He could not gasp. He could not breathe as he
waited, listening for any sound to alert him to what was going on or
had happened. The moment he heard the scream he did not realize he
had slid down beside the big overstuffed chair he had crouched in.
He ducked his head close against the side of the old chair smelling
the damp moldy scent of the cloth and he waited. He waited longer
hoping that Danny would come to where he was and tell him what to do.
He wanted Danny to tell him what was happening. Every moment was
torment as he waited; not knowing what would happen to him. He did
not know what had happened to make the sounds he had heard. The
darkness seemed to press in and the cold became severe.
Although it felt like an
eternity to Steven, it was only moments before a dim light blinked on
over his head. Fearfully, he looked around the room. He could now see
it was furnished with old furniture. Finally, he heard the voice that
would protect him. He could not see him, but he knew it was Danny who
was saying, “Steven, it is all right now. Everything is fine. No
one will ever hurt you again, and if they do, it will not be for
long. Your aunt had bad things planned for you, but she will never be
bad again. You are safe now.”
Steven’s breath was
still coming out in short gasps and he was trembling as he asked, “Am
I really safe? Where’s Aunt Lee? How do you know she will never be
bad again?”
“Because I promised,
Steven. I always keep my promises.”
“What were those weird
noises I heard?” Steven asked fearfully.
“It was your aunt
falling down the stairs. She was in such a hurry to get to you; she
must have not watched her step. I’m afraid she will never get up
again. An unfortunate accident, but she is to blame.”
Steven wasn’t sure he
understood why Lee would not be able to get up again, but he was sure
Danny must know what he was talking about. He looked around the room
curiously. “Where did that light come from? I never saw a light on
down here before.”
“The light has always
been here if you know where the switch is to turn it on. Now you can
see there is nothing to fear. This was a special room I liked to come
and read in peace and quiet. It had a big, thick door that I could
lock so no one could bother me. But we can talk about that another
time. What we need to talk about now is what you will tell your
parents when they come home. You must tell them you were in bed
asleep and didn’t know what happened. Under no circumstances must
you tell that you were down here at all. If you told the whole truth
they would never believe you and never understand that this is her
fault and not yours. That is what you tell anyone who asks. You were
asleep. You do not know.”
“You’re right,”
Steven nodded tearfully. “Even if I tell the truth, they never do
believe me. When my mom fell, they said I pushed her. They blame me
for everything.”
“It’s all right. Don’t
you worry. You are not really telling lies. You are just telling
the truth so they will understand and know what is right for them to
know. I have a plan. Just go upstairs and get some dirty clothes and
put them in the laundry basket. Bring the basket down the stairs to
where they curve and drop it. When you’ve done that, go to bed. I
will stay with you until you fall asleep and maybe tell you stories
about what it was like in this house long ago. No one will be able
to accuse you of telling lies if you have nothing to tell.”
The voice of Danny became
even softer as he whispered in an easy comforting way. Steven felt
some of the tension ease and his tremors ceased. He began to feel
almost sleepy as he listened.
“Everything is working out fine now.
Relax and listen. Listen only to me. Relax. You have no more
worries. You are not alone as I am with you and will always be with
you. You will do as I say and know that you are safe. If others
question you with doubt the truth is that the stairs are dangerous.
Even your own mother fell down them. It was an accident. They
cannot say you are telling lies when you have nothing to tell. You
were asleep. You are not involved at all and soon you will be
asleep. You will sleep soundly and wake feeling safe and peaceful.
All you have to do what I tell you to do.”
For a moment the words and
way Danny spoke seemed to lull him to a warm and comfortable place,
feeling the need to sleep almost overwhelming before his thoughts
stirred him back to the present. “My mom claims that someone
pushed her and she said it was me. She blames me. She swears
someone pushed her. I think she even believes it herself. They will
blame me for this too. They will say that I am the only one here, so
it must be me. I cannot tell them about you because I promised and
no one would believe me.” Steven was becoming more agitated as he
spoke and began to cry.
Danny smiled in a friendly
way as he watched the boy closely. “Close your eyes and listen
only to me. You can relax now. You have no more worries and no more
fear. I am here with you and will never leave you. No one will
blame you because you were asleep. You were sound asleep. You heard
nothing and know nothing. You will now go and go quickly to do the
things I have told you to do.”
Steven left to follow
Danny’s instructions. Still not confident his aunt was unable to
harm him, he walked apprehensively toward the stairs. He still had a
strange almost sleepy feeling. As he turned the corner into the
laundry area, he saw her. She was lying at the bottom of the stairs,
one of her feet twisted at an awkward angle. Her eyes were wide open
staring into nothing. The sleepy feeling was gone and he felt a
burst of energy bordering on panic. Bracing himself, Steven moved
past her quickly, afraid she might wake suddenly. Hardly able to
control his limbs, he continued up the stairs, grabbed some dirty
clothes from his room, threw them in the laundry basket and went back
to the stairs. With wobbling knees, he climbed down to where the
stairs curved. He watched as the laundry basked tumbled down and
down, landing with a thump at the bottom of the stairs where his aunt
lay.
Steven broke into tears as
he ran to his bedroom. Even though he had done what Danny had told
him, he was still frightened. He jumped into bed and pulled the
covers over his head, seeking the protection of the comforter.
Hearing his muffled sobs, Danny said, “Why do you cry, my little
friend? Bad things and bad accidents can happen to bad people. It had
nothing to do with you.”
“But…”
“But nothing. Your aunt
did as she pleased and what happened was all her fault. Just remember
to tell anyone who asks that you were asleep. If you were asleep, it
would be impossible for you to know anything.”
Steven cautiously peeked
from under his covers. The sobs began to slowly subside as he saw his
friend sitting beside him on the bed. Danny’s face was lit by the
light from the nightlight on the nightstand and had a strange peace
about it.
“What if she wakes up
and comes after me?” Steven asked, still not understanding the body
at the bottom of the stairs was lifeless.
Danny didn’t answer for
a minute. He stared at Stevie pensively before finally saying, “She
will never come after you again. Remember I said before the sun rises
everything will be fine? Your aunt had a bad accident, so she will
never get up again. But this is not your fault. Those stairs are
dangerous. There have been others who have fallen down those stairs.
Your mother and aunt were not the first.”
Steven frowned in thought.
“How did you know she would fall tonight? Why did you tell me to
run to that place in the back of the basement? I still don’t
understand any of this. Who else besides Aunt Lee and Mom fell down
the stairs?”
“You are full of
questions, my little friend, but we have all the time in the world to
talk. Before I explain, I want you to stretch out there on your bed
and relax. You are a ball of nerves. Remember you don’t have to be
afraid anymore.”
Steven slowly uncurled
himself under his covers. He tried his best to relax, but he could
not get the sight of his aunt’s eyes out of his mind. Even as he
lay in bed talking with Danny, he could see her staring at him as he
scooted by her in fear.
“Do you think Aunt Lee
blames me for what happened?” he asked.
“Why would you think
such a thing?”
“She looked like she was
looking straight at me and her eyes looked funny.”
“Her eyes were open, but
she sees nothing is this world. She is in another place now. She
cannot blame you when you were not there. You had nothing to do with
what happened to her. No one can blame you for anything.”
“You mean she’s dead?”
Danny nodded. “Yes,
Steven, she is dead.”
Steven could not speak as
he thought about what he had heard. He could hear a rushing sound in
his ears with each beat of his heart. Clutching the corner of his
cover in his hand he pulled it even closer as if to shield himself
for life. The silence in the room made the moments stretch to
infinity of grasping to understand and survive the moment. His
breath came in short gasps as he fought the tears that threatened to
come.
Something more seemed to
be troubling Steven. His bottom lip quivered and the tears began to
fall down his little face. “What is the matter?” Danny asked.
“What if she comes back
as a ghost and haunts me?”
“She can never bother
you again. Trust me. I know all about these things and you have
nothing more to fear. I will take care of you.”
“You said you used to
live here. Does that mean that you died too, or just that you moved
away and came back?
Danny's expression became
stern as he rose from beside Steven. He turned his back as he paced a
step or two across the room before facing the boy to answer. “You
have asked many questions. I will try to answer them all in a way
that you can understand. Let me see…You asked how I knew in advance
that your aunt would fall tonight. I often know things before they
happen. And you wanted to know why I told you to go to the room in
the back of the basement. That was because you needed to away from
the stairs so she would not land on you if she fell. Besides, you
needed to be in a place where she would not go and get you, a safe
place.” Danny smiled at the worried, tear-streaked face of the
child who hung on to his every word. “But most of all, I chose that
place because it is my special place and you are special to me. It
used to be my place but now we can think of it as our place.”
Steven thought for a
moment. “Why is Mom afraid of the basement if it’s only you down
there? Could there be a mean ghost hiding there that you don’t know
about?”
“If there was anyone
else there, dead or alive, I would know about it. Your mother is
simply afraid of what she does not fully understand. She does not
believe in me, so she thinks what she does not understand is evil. I
promise you that I am the only one down there.” Danny smiled as he
continued patiently, “You asked who else fell down the stairs. That
is not a happy subject, so we will speak of it another time. Just be
careful and take your time when you go down them. I wouldn’t want
you to fall.” Steven felt chilled even under the blanket he
clutched to him.
“I don’t think I’ll
ever go down them again,” Steven shuddered as he pictured his aunt.
“Where did Aunt Lee go when she died?” he asked in a low voice.
Danny scooted up the bed
and placed a pillow behind his head to make himself more comfortable.
He seemed to be thinking deeply as he gazed into space. “That is a
very difficult question,” he finally said. “When you die, you are
not really gone, Steven. You have just moved on from this life to
another life. It’s like when you are traveling and you come to a
cross roads. You can go right, or left, or straight ahead, but you
cannot go back the same way you came. So you see, when you die, you
cannot go back to being alive.”
“Are you dead?” Steven
asked bluntly.
Danny laughed and patted
him on the head. “I died many years ago. I guess if you need to
find a way to describe me, most people might call me a ghost, or a
spirit. That is how I am able to come and go so easily without people
hearing me or seeing me unless I want them to.”
“But you seem like
you’re alive,” Steven observed. “I can see and hear you.”
“I’m just here in a
different way, but never underestimate that I am real. I am here as
much as you are.” Danny smiled.
There was a flicker of
fear in Steven’s eyes. “Does this mean Aunt Lee is still here
too?” he asked alarmed at the thought.
“No, she’s not here,”
Danny consoled him. “Let me explain. Some people, like your aunt,
are so bad they cannot go where there are good people and cause more
trouble, so they have to go to another place. There may be many
places bad people go, but only they know about them. I have not gone
to any, so I cannot tell you about them.”
Steven’s eyes widened
with interest as Danny went on to say, “People who have been good
are at peace and happy. They go to what you think of as Heaven. Does
that explain everything?”
Steven nodded, absorbing
everything Danny had said. “Then why are you here and not in
Heaven?” he suddenly asked.
Danny laughed again. “I
have to stay here and take care of you.” Seeing Steven had taken
him quite seriously, he explained, “There are some people who feel
they did not get a chance to finish things while they were alive.
They do not want to go anywhere. Some want to stay and help others.
There are many reasons why those who die do not want go on to their
next life. There are many more worlds, or planes, than people can
see, Steven, but you are too young to understand these things. When
you are older, I will tell you more, but until then, I am here and I
will do what is best for you. All you have to do is trust me. If you
trust me and believe in me, I will never leave you. I will be with
you always.”
“I do trust you,”
Steven exclaimed. “You are my best friend and you’ll always be. I
don’t know what would happen to me if you weren’t my friend.”
Danny smiled, but said
nothing.
Steven’s brow became
furrowed in thought. “You’re so good to me. I don’t know why
Mom is scared of the basement. That’s silly since it’s only you
there.”
Danny no longer smiled as
he gazed at Steven. “There are many things about your mother that
are silly. It is silly that she has such a wonderful son, yet spends
more time drinking or reading her silly books. There is more in the
world than her books can teach her, or she ever dreamed of. She reads
a lot about dreams. She should understand not all dreams are good
dreams. She needs to be very careful of things she does not fully
understand. She thinks she is in control with the things she learns
in her books. She should have respect. She should beware.”
Concern bordering on fear
showed in Steven’s eyes. “You know things that will happen that
have not happened yet. Is something bad going to happen to my Mom?”
Danny chose his words
carefully. “Your mother chooses her own path as everyone must do.
Life is filled with danger. But there is nothing new that I know
about your mother. I believe she does love you.”
The answer served to calm
Steven, though his question remained unanswered. “She should spend
more time with you and forget her silly books. Messing with things
you do not understand can be dangerous. There is more to this world
than she ever dreamed of and not all dreams are good dreams. Some
dreams are really night mares.” His lack of years and his complete
trust in Danny made him oblivious to the fact that Danny had never
answered his question. In his child’s mind, if Danny could see
nothing new in his mother’s life, it meant she was not in any
danger. He exhaled a heavy sigh of relief. He began to feel sleepy,
but his curiosity was wide awake. He now wanted to know all about
Danny. He sat up straight. “Tell me about when you were alive,”
he asked. “Tell me about when you died and how you died.”
“I will tell you many
things, but what I want is for you to lie back down and close your
eyes and try to go to sleep. I want you to have only sweet dreams
tonight. Everything will work out now and every day will get better.
Go to sleep and do not worry anymore.”
Steven slid down under his
covers and closed his eyes. Danny began talking in a soft, soothing
voice. “I was born and grew up in this house. Years ago back then,
this was not a bad neighborhood. On the contrary to being a bad
neighborhood, this was one of the finest. All of these apartment
houses were individual homes with families living in them. The houses
were not this close to each other. We had nice big yards, but they
built more houses side by side until there are no big yards left.”
Steven’s eyes shot open.
“Do you mean when you lived here you had the whole house to live
in?”
Danny spoke in a soft and
melodic voice. “Yes, all of this was one big house instead of three
apartments. The rooms were big and it was beautiful. The servants
lived up here on the top floor. My rooms were on the second floor as
were my parents’ rooms. I remember the grand parties they had here
and all of the people that came. The parties then were filled with
laughter, dancing and music played by musician. The people dressed in
their finest cloths and we had meals fit for a king. Things were much
different then. I grew up here. The yard was filled with flowers and
we had an orchard where you could go and pick all of the ripe apples
you wanted, right off the tree. In the spring time the trees were
filled with flowers and smelled so sweet.” Danny smiled. Steven was
fast asleep. That was good. He needed his rest. Tomorrow would be
filled with confusion.
If you would like to know more of my own story and Albert's one of my books is nonfiction and part of the story telling as I work to make dreams come true with the books, art, words and idea to never give up. The cover is one of my own paintings done especially for this boook
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I WILL NOT GIVE UP....NOT TODAY....LIFE IS A JOURNEY |