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Guest Blog
Post by Short Story Writer D.A. DeCuzzi aka David A Eddy:
A Call From Beyond
*A short story of horror and darkness about small, ordinary
things
Whenever
Grandpa visited, Gina spent every spare moment with him. She didn’t care if they played Scrabble, or
just sat on the couch and watch television; she adored him. Most of all, she relished his attention and
the stories he told. He spoke of his own
memories of being her age, in a simpler time where no one had too many
worries. He made her feel safe.
Each
time Grandfather stood at the door to leave, Gina admired his silhouette,
shadowed against the setting sun. At
thirteen, she’d nearly perfected the melodramatic frown and puppy-dog eyes, and
gave him the sweet pouty face, hoping he would stay bit longer. It never worked, but it always ended with a
kiss on her forehead, and a promise to return for another day of fun.
Not
once did she think he would never come back.
Gina watched
her mother lean against the kitchen wall, and grab the counter with a shaky
hand to steady herself. Her mother’s
face paled, and her voice cracked.
“Was it
quick?”
“What’s
wrong, Mom?” As Gina stepped closer, her
heart sank in.
“Shhhh.” Gina’s mother waved her away.
Gina
sat at the kitchen table, staring at the phone in her mother’s hand. The ice in her gut took her breath away and
her intuition screamed that something bad had happened. When her mother hung up, she sat next to Gina
with tears welling up in her eyes and took her hands.
“Honey.” She spoke softly as Gina saw hesitation in
her eyes. “He’s gone.”
“No!” Gina stood up and her chair shot out behind
her. “He’s not gone! This can’t be true! He’s coming back, he promised!” She fled the kitchen, and ran down the hall
toward her room.
“Sweetie,
he was—” Gina’s bedroom door slammed shut, ending the conversation. “—getting old.” Her mother put her head in her hands and
wept.
The
next two days seemed to last forever.
The emptiness Gina felt wouldn’t leave her alone. It kept haunting every waking moment and led
into a sleepless night. Restlessness
crept into her dazed mind, hoping there would be an end, but she didn’t know
how to put herself at ease. Her thoughts
continue to drift toward her best friend, but she couldn’t help remembering
what he had done for her.
“It’s
not fair!” Gina cried in her pillow.
“But,
Mom, I want Grandpa now.” Gina’s tears turned certain spots of her
light blue nightgown dark, and she punched her pillow. “It’s just not the same . . .”
The
next day, she stood by as they buried Grandfather in a cemetery just a few
hundred yards from their house. Her
mother encouraged her to say goodbye, but Gina still heard his voice in her
memory, promising to return.
She
touched the casket, and whispered, “It’s only see you later. Right,
Grandpa? Isn’t that what you’ve always told me?”
That
night, and several nights after, she looked out her bedroom window at his grave
marker silhouetted against the setting sun.
Every evening she closed her eyes and imagined he’d just kissed her
forehead and promised they’d be together soon.
And every evening she opened her eyes onto her grandfather’s gravesite
with its soft earth and loose sod, and realized he was really gone. Her heart ached with stories left untold,
games left unfinished, and secrets yet to be shared. She stared out from between her dark bangs as
a tear rolled from her desolate gray eyes, down her cheek, and into the corner
of her small, quivering mouth. Every
evening she tucked herself back into bed and dreamed that he would keep his
promise to return.
A week
after the funeral, Gina’s father knocked at her bedroom door.
“Come
on in.”
“Hey,
beautiful.” He sat on the bed next to
her. “What are you reading?”
“It’s a
book that Grandpa gave me.” She sighed
and kept her head down. “About a girl
who becomes a princess.”
“Oh,
yeah, I remember that book. She’s smart
and beautiful, and sometimes she’s afraid, and the king makes sure she’s always
safe.”
“Yeah. That’s how Grandpa makes me feel.” She caught herself, and muttered, “. . . made me feel.”
Her
father put his arms around her and gently squeezed. “And he’ll always be with us, you know that,
right?”
“Yes,
but it’s not the same.”
“Sure
it is,” he said warmly, gently wrapping his arm around her neck, hoping to give
her a hug. “Whenever you feel afraid or
lost, just think of him, and you’ll feel all the love that he gave you warm you
up inside.”
“I’ll
try.”
“That’s
my girl.” He kissed her forehead, and
the corners of her mouth curled up in a weak smile. “And now, your mother and I have an
appointment with the lawyer about Grandpa’s estate later this afternoon. Vicky’s coming over to babysit, and we’re leaving
in a few minutes since it’ll be a long drive.”
“I
don’t need a babysitter, Dad.”
“Okay,
you don’t need a babysitter. Maybe I
do.” He chuckled innocently. “It just makes your mother and I feel better
to have someone around, just in case.”
“Fine.”
She turned a page.
Her
father left the room, and Gina’s thoughts turned to the view outside her
window. The sun lay close to
disappearing below the horizon, as the appointment with the attorney weighed
heavy on their minds when the anxiety appeared in his eyes, and the sky swirled
with murky black clouds, ready to pour.
Already, he heard the distant thunder rumbling closer. She pressed her hands and head against her
window pane and sighed. She changed into
her nightgown, but kept her eye on the window.
Bright
lightning, not a half mile away, startled her and she shrank away from the
window. The thunder followed quickly,
and rumbled through her body, sending its own lightning bolt of fear down her spine. Panting, she ran out of the room and grabbed
the banister to go downstairs where she wouldn’t be alone. She paused when she heard her mother’s voice
talking on the phone.
“We
really can’t wait any longer.” She
paused and listened. “How long?”
“Hold
on, let me talk it over with my husband.
Okay . . . ? Thanks. Just a minute.” Gina’s mother covered the mouthpiece again,
and turned to her husband. “She says
she’s going to be about twenty minutes.”
“Why?” Her father’s hushed whisper had that annoyed
sound, like when she caught sleeping instead of doing her homework.
“She says
her car wouldn’t start. She got her dad
to give her a jump, and she’s leaving now.”
“What
about Gina? You know how she is with
storms.”
“I
know, I know. But she’s thirteen now,
and she can handle it. We really have to
take care of this estate thing. We’ve
put it off since the day Dad died.
“Okay,
tell her to hurry but be careful in the rain.
It’s a bad one.” Gina’s father’s
shoulders sagged, and he nodded. “I just
don’t like leaving her alone this long yet.”
“Me
either, but she’s a big girl, and she’ll be fine.” Gina’s mother turned away to speak on the
phone.
“Are
you sure?”
He gave
her a comforting hug. “Gina’s a smart
girl, and we’ve taught her what to do in case of an emergency. If anything should happen, she knows how to use the phone Vicky can’t make
it. Just calm down . . . She’s gonna be
fine.”
An
earthquake of thunder sent Gina running down the stairs and into her father’s
arms. “I don’t want to be alone, Dad.”
“I
know, beautiful. But Vicky’s coming, so
you won’t be. Your mom and I have to
take care of Grandpa’s estate, and his lawyer’s office is staying open late to
help us.”
“But
Dad . . .”
“Gina,
honey, this is important.”
“Please,
dad?”
Her
father hugged her and let out a pained sigh.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but if we don’t have this settled by Monday, a
lot of things are going to go wrong. You
don’t want us to be careless with Grandpa’s estate, now, do you?”
She
shook her head and looked into his eyes.
“Just hurry home, okay?”
“You
know we will.” He Gina at arm’s
length. “Look at you, almost grown
up.” He grinned. “I have an idea. Why don’t you go and get ready for bed, and
read that book Grandpa gave you?”
False
bravery nodded Gina’s head. “Okay.”
Gina
sat on the bottom step of the stairs and waited for Vicky to knock on the
door. Her anxiety grew by the minute,
and she yearned for her grandfather as loneliness continued to haunt her,
craving for his company more than ever.
An hour
later, the storm continued its rampage.
The rain pounded against the windows, and the wind wheezed and howled
against the walls.
“I’m
not afraid. I’m not afraid. It’s only a
storm,” Gina repeated to herself. A blinding flash was followed by a boom that
shook her from her meditation, and she ran to her room, shut the door and dove
into bed. She pulled the comforter over
her face, and let the tears flow.
Gina did know how to take care of herself,
yet the thought of the loneliness awaiting her in the dark made her
nervous. She couldn’t understand how her
parents could even think about leaving her to struggle alone.
Don’t they know how I feel right now? I don’t understand why they had this
appointment so late in the day. I wish
they hadn’t left in such a bad storm. She shivered with a cold chill that flowed
through her. How can they do this to me? I
don’t want them in that storm! It
doesn’t sound like it’s going to be a calm one.
Don’t they realize what could happen?
“Grandpa,
I really need you now,” she whispered
nervously. “Please . . . come back to me
. . .”
Something
in the backyard caught her eye, but the storm prevented her from seeing
clearly. Her imagination always played
tricks on her when she was scared, and it ran wild with the churning clouds,
the bright lights and shadows, and the deep rumbling thunder that penetrated
her very bones.
Something
was out there.
Something
came with the storm and a chill flowed down her spine as she watched the
something—what, she didn’t know—close
in with each flash of lightning. The
room darkened again with a coldness unlike anything she had ever felt. Her nightlight, dimmed, flickered, and then
went out. The room was pitch black. Gina dove back under the covers.
Nothing.
Fear
gripped her heart, making it hard to breathe.
“It’s
all in my mind,” she whispered. “There’s
nothing here.”
She
pressed her back against the wall and prayed for the lights to come on. The lightning flashed, and her room was
bright and normal. Within that, she ran
to the foot of her bed. Blinded by the
darkness, she struggled to glance round, plagued with an ominous feeling of
being watched, threatened. She felt as
sure of that as she felt the floor under her feet.
With a
flash of lightning, her eyes locked onto the doll on her dresser, smiling
gloomily back at her. The doll always
wore a grin, but Gina felt malicious intent in the midst of the storm. Another flash appeared as she imagined the
doll in a different position; its head slowly turned toward her instead of
facing the window. Her heart punched against
her chest, fear rising into her throat, while something moved within the
darkness. The presence was still
somewhere, surrounding her. She heard
childish cackling all around, taunting her from just out of reach.
“I’m
not afraid of you!” she shouted, but the laughter continued, as if the darkness
itself called her bluff.
The
fear and darkness consumed her, and tore down every boundary to her
imagination. Unseen voices laughed at
her, and familiar objects, once comforting, leered and changed, moving in the
darkness, only to reveal themselves in the flashing light. A scratching sound forced her eyes open, and
she squinted, trying to distinguish anything that would make sense in the
darkness. She clutched her nightgown in
her fists, and stifled a squeal when the floorboards creaked.
“Vicky
. . .”
Silence
filled the room.
“Mom .
. . ? Dad . . . ?” Only thunder answered. “Or, maybe, it’s my imagination.” She closed her eyes, only to wish away the
storm and her fears but, most of all, she needed the comfort and safety she
almost lost, as it only left the emptiness.
“Grandpa, where are you when I need you the most?”
A
shadow beckoned her to sleep. A
whispered voice on the wind suggest that she resign herself to the darkness.
“Rest,”
it said in a soothing whisper. “Let me
take you away from this.”
“Hello? Mom . . . ?
Vicky . . . ?” Her voice trembled
and cracked. Blurry static murmured on
the line, then she heard a soft, distance, and oh, so comforting voice.
“Grandpa! Is that really
you?” Gina struggled to find the right
word for her relief and disbelief. “I
miss you so much.”
“I miss
you too, sweetheart.”
“But
why did you leave me?” She pouted. “Don’t you love me anymore?”
“You
know better than to say things like that, especially to me. Those words are so cruel and cold.”
“I’m
sorry, Grandpa.”
“Just
so you know, I will always love you, no matter what happens.”
“You
left me without saying goodbye,” she cried.
“I didn’t want you to go.”
“I’m
sorry, Princess, but I had to
go. It wasn’t my choice to make. Some things in the world are beyond our
control. If I had my way, I would never
leave you and would stay there for as long as you needed me. Believe me, honey, I didn’t want to go, but
it was my time. This is just part of
life.”
“But I
need you. I wish you were here now. I’m so scared.”
“You
know what? If I had my wish, I would
stay there with you forever.”
The
soothing words calmed the flutter in her chest, but Gina’s sorrow rumbled
through her veins, as the sounds from the storm returned to her ears. Thunder boomed, and lightning flashed, and
the wind howled as apprehension flowed relentlessly through her. Fear reclaimed her small body, sending icy
ripples down her spine.
“Don’t
be afraid, honey,” the voice said.
“You’ll be safe in the house.
Just stay inside your room, and everything will be fine. The storm will pass over.”
“I
will, Grandpa,” she said sweetly. She
calmed down after listening to the soothing sound of his voice; her grandfather
never misled her. She trusted him more
than anyone else.
“I have
to go now, honey, but I want you to know that I love you, and I’ll never stop,
no matter what. Never think otherwise.”
“I love
you too, Grandpa!”
“You’re
a special young lady, and you have a wonderful life ahead of you. Just focus on the bigger and better things,
instead of worrying about losing me. I
will be here for you—that’s a promise—one
we will share forever.”
“Cross
your heart?” Gina felt the conversation
nearing a close, and searched for things to say to keep him on the line.
The
telephone went silent, and even though the man she loved left her again, her
heart began to mend, despite bearing some scars from her pain. The storm retreated to a softer din, and the
ominous presence dissipated. A final
tear rolled down her cheek, and she hung up.
As she
climbed back into bed, she glanced at the doll sitting at the foot of the
blanket, the very doll her grandfather won for her at last summer’s county
fair. She picked it up, and held it
close as she pulled the comforter up to her chin.
Just remember the good times we had
together. Gina treasured the
memory of her grandfather at the fair, grinning ear to ear as he handed the
doll to her.
“Thank
you, Grandpa,” she whispered as she fell asleep.
“No,
no, she’s fine. And I’m glad you’re all
right.”
Gina
titled her head and raised her eyebrows.
“Okay,
Vicky, let us know when you’re up to it.
Yes, we’d love to have you babysit.”
Gina
flailed her hands at her mother, and whispered, “I don’t need a babysitter!”
Her
mother grinned back and waved her down.
“I’ve got to go. Good luck with
the car repairs.”
“Oh, my
baby, what a crazy night!”
Gina
pretended to pull away, but giggled at the shower of kisses raining down on her
face. “Mom, stop it, its fine.”
“Good
morning. How’s my baby?” Gina’s father came in, picked her up and gave
her a bear hug.
“Hey,
I’m not a baby, you guys.” Gina
protested, but accepted the comfort offered by those familiar words. “What’s up with Vicky, Mom?”
Her
mother brought a plate of biscuits and eggs to the table, while her father
brought the pan of bacon. They sat in
the morning sunshine catching up on last night’s events.
Gina
took the jelly and spread it on her biscuit.
“I wondered why she didn’t come by.”
Her
father cleared his throat. “Gina, we
shouldn’t have left until she got here.
We’re both very sorry. Especially
since we know how you are with storms.”
“No,
it’s okay.”
Her
parents looked at each other with proud curiosity. “And we’re sorry we didn’t get back until
after midnight, but the roads were clogged with downed trees and power lines.”
Her
parents exchanged another glance, and her father leaned forward. “Gina, honey.
You say that Grandpa called you?”
“Yeah. After I already almost peed myself from the
thunder, though.”
Her
mother dropped her fork on her plate.
“The phone, it rang?”
“Yeah. I thought maybe it was you or Vicky, but I
swear, it was Grandpa.”
“It
could have been a dream; don’t you think?
I mean, oh, Sweetheart, Grandpa’s gone.”
“Thanks
for coming out so early to fix the line, it works perfectly. Did you see what was wrong?”
“Yes
sir, Mr. Campbell, a tree in the cemetery lost a branch in the storm and
knocked the phone lines out to the whole subdivision. The line was laying over a couple of plots,
still hot. The severed end even stuck
into one like it was trying to connect a call.
Ain’t that something?”
“Ahh,
yes. Thank you.”
“Glad
to be of service. Let us know if you
need anything else.”
“Wait.”
“Yes?”
“Can
you point out which plot? From here, I
mean? Which one had the wire embedded in
it?”
“That
one, right there.”
Gina’s
father squeezed out a weak, “Thanks,” shut the door, and walked back into the
kitchen. He glanced at Gina, then locked
eyes with her mother.
“It was
Grandpa’s, wasn’t it?”
Her
mother’s eyes widened.
Her
father nodded.
Gina
grinned.
His
laughter could never be replicated by anyone; it was the only thing that made
her feel better. Nothing could replace h
love she felt, but Gina realized her best friend was in a better place, not
suffering. It was a difficult to let go
of someone so close, especially one so special, and it was going to take time.
Gina
learned that lesson.
