Presenting | |
| What if coincidence is imagination’s way of escaping into reality? What if deja vu isn’t just a re-lived experience, but one that our mind is imposing upon reality even as we live it? | After all, reality only exists inside our minds, and our world is only what we chose to perceive. There is only a very fine line between genius -- and madness, between imagination -- and reality. And for people who can live balanced on that line, everything is possible. |
In this day where the media romanticizes the occult,
people should realize it is not all fun and games.
Here is the first chapter
Ahead of the Game
Ken rushed out of his front door, late for the ten fifteen bus. Flustered, he shoved his left hand into a pants pocket, trying to locate the correct change for the fare, as he juggled a leather briefcase and designer sunglasses in the other hand. Halfway down the narrow cement steps, he lost his footing as he checked his gold watch for the second time since locking the front door. With his left hand trapped in his trouser pocket, he made an attempt to grab the railing with his right hand, but the briefcase handle wouldn’t allow him to get a firm hold. Twisting frantically, his left hand shot out of his pocket, his left arm cartwheeling to compensate for his loss of balance. A fistful of coins flew out of his hand and through the air, bouncing and spinning down onto the sidewalk.
Ken landed, not too gracefully, on his knees at the foot of the steps. Almost as soon as he made contact with the hot sidewalk, he bounded to his feet. He hoped no one had seen him. Letting out a whoosh of breath as he smoothed the front of his suit jacket, he assessed the damage: no tears in the knees of his Italian suit, and miraculously, the briefcase had remained tightly shut. The sunglasses weren’t so lucky – the right lens was shattered and the frame bent. Sighing, he kicked the remains of the mangled glasses into the gutter and picked up enough of the scattered change to cover the bus fare. Snatching up his scuffed briefcase, he set off at a full run towards the bus stop.
Madison Sinclair skipped happily down the sidewalk, her blue shorts and a yellow T-shirt blazing in the morning sun. The sunlight dazzled her hazel eyes as she scanned the ground for coins. She already had a nickel and three pennies. There were only three more blocks left before she would reach the corner store. Madison was sure she would find more lost coins before then. She usually found enough to buy a fistful of penny candy, and today – today was her fifth birthday -- and she deserved a great big bag of candy.
Madison stopped abruptly and closed her eyes, causing the teenager who had been walking behind her to do a quick sidestep in order to avoid smashing into her. Wrinkling her nose at his rude comments, she concentrated hard and made a wish to find more coins. In her mind’s eye, she was rewarded by the vision of several shiny coins glinting in the sunlight. She strained to see their location more clearly, and bit by bit she was able to flesh out an image.
The coins were scattered at the bottom of some steps -- three cement steps with an iron pipe railing. A smile spread slowly across Madison’s face. The wish firmly made, her eyes snapped open and she began to skip down the sidewalk once more, searching eagerly for coins.
Two blocks later, something shiny in the gutter caught her attention. She squatted down, holding her shoulder length brown hair back with both hands so she could get a better look. More coins? No.
Madison puckered her lips in disappointment. “Dumb old broken glasses,” she mumbled, as she dropped the mangled mess back into the street. As she stood up, she caught a glimmer of light out of the corner of her eye. She smiled, knowing what she would find. Next to her were three cement steps with an iron pipe railing; she recognized them immediately and looked for the coins she knew would be there.
“Ninety eight cents! That’s the most you’ve had yet!” exclaimed Joseph, owner of the little corner store.
“That’s because it’s my birthday. It was a birthday wish,” Madison explained matter-of-factly, a big smile lighting up her face.
“Well, you take your time figuring out what candy you want while I help this other customer. Okay?”
“Okay.”
An elderly woman was leaning most of her slight weight on a battered old cane. She placed a half gallon of milk and loaf of bread on the counter.
“That’ll be $1.10, please.”
The woman fumbled to open a small, tattered change purse while balancing the cane against her leg. Her shaky fingers with long, twisted nails, managed to snap the clasp open and she poked about inside. She paused for a moment as if in thought, then hurriedly removed several crumpled papers, a bobby pin and a few coins.
“Oh, my!” she gasped in a voice as shaky as her fingers.
“I seem to have brought the wrong purse with me. I only have sixty cents. I’ll have to go home and get my other purse. I’m so sorry!”
Her pale blue eyes became moist with embarrassment as she looked up at the shopkeeper. “It’s the cataracts,” she explained to Joseph.
Madison sized up the old woman in the faded blue flowered dress and acted without hesitation. “I have fifty cents I can give you.”
The woman turned toward the little voice, a smile tugging at the corners of her thin lips. “Why, isn’t that generous of you! Thank you, little one, but I can’t take your candy money.”
“I’ll have plenty left. Really. It’s okay.” Madison extended her hand palm up with a mixture of dimes and nickels in it. Her face was set with determination. “It will save you a long walk back.”
Her gnarled fingers twitched as the woman hesitantly reached to accept the gift. “Well...” She made eye contact with the little girl and suddenly her smile wavered. Those eyes were too intense, too focused, for one so young. She took the coins with lowered gaze. “Thank you. Thank you so much!”
Madison broke into a huge grin. The effect was like sunlight bursting from behind a dark cloud. Joseph and the old woman smiled back.
“Look at those dimples jump,” Joseph teased. Madison felt her face go hot with embarrassment but smiled all the more.
As the elderly woman struggled toward the exit with a cane in one hand and the grocery bag in the other, Madison rushed to open the door for her. The woman paused in the doorway and turned to regard the little girl once more. Those eyes! She glanced away, out the door, across the street, back to Madison, almost flinching. “What is your name, little girl?”
“Madison Sinclair.”
The woman took a deep breath and glanced across the street once more. “Madison, you’re a special little girl,” she said, emotions tumbling inside her. Part of her was touched by the little girl’s . . . by Madison’s . . . generosity and sweetness. Another part of her felt strangely uneasy. She gave her a quick half smile and shuffled off.
Madison stood in the doorway for a moment and watched her go. “I wonder why she didn’t tell me her name,” she muttered to herself. Shrugging, she turned back to the candy counter and the business at hand.
***
The neighborhood was pretty quiet for a Saturday. Too quiet. It was almost noon, and none of her friends were in sight. Clutching the little brown bag, her skipping slowed down to a walk as she scanned the alleys and porches. Where was everybody?
For what seemed like forever, she searched around the block. Her good mood was vanishing quickly. She stopped in the middle of a parking lot, her eyes moist.
This wasn’t right. Not on her birthday! And not with a whole bag of candy to share. She squinted up at the cloudless sky. “God?”
She had known about God for as long as she could remember. Funny, though, she couldn’t remember who had explained Him to her. But it didn’t matter. She felt Him. She knew He would help her.
Sniffling, she directed her thoughts upwards. “God? I can’t find any of my friends! Could you please send me some?” A tear streaked down her cheek.
A few heartbeats later, she heard . . .
“Hey, Madison! We’ve been looking all over for ya!” It was Kenny, Ellen and Janet, running towards her from the street.
Madison wiped away her tears and smiled. “Wow! That was fast! Thanks,” she whispered quietly, and ran to meet her friends.
“So whadaya wanna do?” Kenny asked through a mouthful of Tootsie Roll.
“Let’s play Barbie,” Ellen suggested enthusiastically. Janet looked on hopefully, but knew better.
“Yeah, right. Maybe latter,” Madison said dismissively. “But first, there’s something I want to show you.” She pointed over her shoulder to the empty row house on the corner. “See that place with all the windows?”
The dwelling she indicated was connected to a long strip of row houses extending as far down the wide alley as they could see. The opposite side of the alley had a matching strip of houses. But the one that Madison pointed to was unique in that the entire wall on the first floor was made up of four inch squares of opaque glass. Each green-tinted pane was thick and curvy, making it impossible to see inside, and gave off fun-house-mirror types of reflections.
“There’s something inside there. I heard it,” Madison said in her most mysterious voice.
Eyes wide with interest, Janet asked, “Like what?”
“Don’t know, but there’s not supposed to be anybody living there. I think it might be haunted.” Madison whispered the last word for effect.
“Whoa! Let’s go see!” Kenny called over his shoulder as he ran toward the building.
Madison loved stuff like this. She was in charge. When they reached the building, she said, “Here, put your hand on the glass. Can you feel it?”
Each of them placed their hands on the glass. Kenny wanted to know just what he was supposed to be feeling.
“Vibrations,” Madison replied.
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” Madison rolled her eyes. “Put your ear up to the glass and listen instead.” Three heads leaned against the wall. “Listen careful. Do you hear it?”
Several seconds passed with no sound except for the kids breathing heavily against the glass wall. Then Ellen straightened up and squealed, “I heard something!”
Madison was pleased and a bit surprised. This was supposed to be a game. She had planned to tap on the glass while the others weren’t looking. “See! I told you. It’s haunted!”
“I don’t hear nothin’,” complained Kenny.
“Me neither,” whined Janet.
Madison placed her own ear against the wall and concentrated, her eyes tightly closed. She blocked out the sounds of traffic, the children playing down the alley and the moms calling their kids in for lunch. After a few seconds, a noise penetrated the glass. Madison froze in place. Her eyes snapped open. She had really heard something! She closed her eyes again and listened some more.
There were scraping noises, faint and muffled, like someone dragging furniture on a bare wooden floor deep inside the house. She motioned for the others to listen again. Kenny’s mouth dropped open as the noise continued every five seconds or so.
Suddenly, there was another sound. Indistinct, closer to the glass -- definitely a voice. It was impossible to understand, but it was unmistakably deep and menacing. Madison pushed away from the wall, fear curdling the candy in her stomach. From the looks on their faces, she could tell the others had heard it, too.
A screeching voice from across the alley made them all jump. “Hey! You little brats! What’re you doing? Get outta there!”
It was crazy old Reba. She stood in the shadows of her recessed doorway with her broom held in a threatening position. Everyone knew she was nuts. And she hated kids.
“C’mon, let’s go to my house,” Kenny said as he spread his arms to herd the group towards the street. As they ran away from the glass wall, he added, “I just got a new track for my Hot Wheels. Let’s go!”
“Great,” Madison replied, slightly out of breath. She loved to play cars. She stole a final glance at the haunted house before rounding the corner with the others. Fear, bewilderment and excitement all bubbled inside her at once. She had been right -- it was haunted!
By late afternoon, Madison’s stomach told her it was time to go home. The summer sun was still high in the sky, but her internal clock told her it was undoubtedly dinner time. Tall oak trees provided welcome shade as she ambled up the sidewalk that led to her two story brick row house. Traffic whizzed by only a few feet away on the Northeast Boulevard, a four lane highway that was clogged with traffic all hours of the day and night. Madison wrinkled her nose at the smell as a diesel truck groaned by.
She sauntered up the four cement steps that led to her home. Even though the neighbor’s front door was directly across from hers in the small square stoop, she couldn’t recall ever seeing anyone go in or out. She knew someone lived there – she could hear them yelling at each other from time to time.
Her attention was drawn to a fuzzy yellow caterpillar slowly making its way up the neighbor’s door frame.
All of her attention focused with delight on the fuzzy little insect as she extended her hand to let it crawl into her palm. While she stood stroking the little bug’s ‘fur’, she slowly became aware of a feeling growing inside her. A frown creased her brow as she looked up at the door, now only inches away. Something didn’t feel right here. It felt . . . bad.
Madison backed away, pausing to deposit the caterpillar on her mother’s rose bush before opening her own front door.
She let the dark feeling slip away as the coolness of the sun porch and the clean white wicker furniture reminded her she was safely at home. Careful not to get fingerprints on the glass, she opened the french doors that led to the spacious living room. The smell of something cooking reached her nose and she inhaled deeply. Her stomach urged her on toward the kitchen.
As she passed through the living room, she thought about flipping on the new color TV for a moment. It would be nice to flop down on the sofa, cool with it’s plastic slip covers, and relax with her favorite cartoon, ‘Kimba the White Lion’. She climbed up on the couch to consider this idea, but the slip covers weren’t so cool – they stuck to her bare legs. And the ashtray on the end table was full again. Yuck!
Peeling herself off the couch, she trudged through the dining room and pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen.
“Hi, Mom.” Madison pulled a chair up to the little kitchen table. “What’s cookin’?”
Hillary Sinclair straightened up from poking about in the oven and pushed back a stray lock of hair. Her hair was the prettiest Madison had ever seen; golden brown, like oak leaves in the fall, with highlights of sunshine throughout. “It’s not ready yet. Go wash up and tell your sister to come downstairs.” Her brown eyes, in contrast to her hair, were always dark and sad.
Madison slid down from the chair and went up the back steps. The stairs were kind of spooky, even in the daytime, but it was faster than going all the way out to the living room to use the front stairway. Reaching the thirteenth step, she squeezed her head, shoulders, then body under the gate at the top.
“Tina, Mom says it’s time for dinner,” she called. There was no answer, so Madison stomped the rest of the way down the hall. She pushed open the door to the bedroom she shared with her sister and saw Tina, eight years her senior, primping in front of the mirror.
“What’re you doing?”
“I’m going to the park with my friends after dinner,” Tina said. She frowned at her skinny image in the mirror. Her jean shorts were so tight they looked painted on, just the way she liked them, but her bright yellow halter top wasn’t holding much.
“Can I go?”
“NO!” Tina turned and saw the hurt look on her little sister’s face. She just didn’t understand. “You’re too little.” She considered stuffing tissues into the halter.
Madison was pouting.
Tina turned back around, addressing her sister’s image in the mirror. “I’ll play a game with you when I get home. Promise.”
“Yeah. Right.” Madison turned to leave. “Mom says come eat,” and she slammed the door shut behind her.
They hardly ever ate in the dining room. Everything always stayed neat and perfect there like a display in a catalogue. The embroidered lace tablecloth and silk flower arrangement were only removed for holiday meals. Instead, they sat in the kitchen around the kitchenette with its three chairs and long bench. Mom always sat at one end of the table and Dad at the other – whenever Dad was home for dinner. He was always working. Tina sat in the side chair, and Madison preferred the bench. That way she could put her feet under her to get up closer to her plate.
Dinner was disappointing. The sirloin steak that they split between the three of them was cooked until the edges curled up. The peas were okay, but the mashed potatoes where icky. Her mom never made real mashed potatoes. Every night, no matter what else they ate, there were always fake mashed potatoes made out of those little flakes that looked, and sort of tasted, like plastic. To make matters worse, every time Madison reached for her glass of milk to help wash down the dry steak, her mother would yell.
“Eat your dinner before you drink your milk!”
“But Mom, I can’t swallow it!” Her saliva was absorbed like a sponge by the overcooked meat.
“You heard me.”
Madison choked down another bite with the help of some ‘plastic’ potatoes. Finally, she had eaten enough to gulp down her milk. She and Tina both stood up to leave.
“Hold it. Sit down. We have dessert.”
Dessert? That was almost unheard of.
“It’s Madison’s birthday and she has to have a cake!” Her mom stooped behind the open refrigerator door, then appeared above it with a squat, two layer cake. Her cakes weren’t much better than her steaks. She placed it in the middle of the table with a flourish and a grin. “There! Five candles. Happy birthday, Maddy!”
“Thanks, Mom.” Madison placed a smile on her face, and after suffering through a bad rendition of ‘Happy Birthday To You’, she blew out the candles.
Tina asked, “Did you make a wish?”
“Of course,” Madison replied.
The cake wasn’t so bad with another glass of milk to help it along. It was chocolate with vanilla icing in the middle and on top. Mom had done a pretty good job of writing, ‘Happy Bday Maddy’ and had made a few pretty flowers. She and Tina wolfed it down, anxious to get back outside. They jumped up from the table, cleared their places, and bolted toward the back door.
“Be home by dark,” their mom called after them as the screen door slammed.
Tina never did remember her promise to play a game that night. Or the next. In fact, Madison saw very little of her older sister during that summer. Now that Tina was thirteen, she acted . . . different. She had started talking about boys and clothes and makeup. Not that Mom would ever let her wear makeup. And all Tina ever said was, “You’re too little.” Madison was feeling very left out and missed the sister who used to laugh and play with her.
That’s why it was such a special treat that night in late summer when Tina suggested they play Bridge.
The girls had two single beds lined up side by side in the bedroom at the top of the front stairwell. It was Tina’s turn to get into bed first. Then Maddy would flick off the light switch and dive into her own bed, frightened of whatever might be lurking in the shadows. She always left the bedroom door open so light from the chandelier at the back of the hall could filter in like a nightlight.
After their eyes adjusted, Tina whispered over, “Ready?”
Madison was excited. “Yeah!”
“But first,” Tina whispered, “You have to go get supplies.”
Madison’s heart skipped a beat. She knew that meant going down the back stairs. Alone. At night. “Do I have to?”
“You need bridge tolls. Go get some Cheerios in a cup.”
Madison really missed playing with her sister, but she was very frightened of the big old house, especially the back stairs. She weighed it in her mind, then got out of bed. “I’ll be right back.”
Tina smiled in the dark as she heard her sister’s bare feet scamper down the hallway.
Madison was grateful for the dim light cast by the chandelier at the back stairs gate. Her mom kept it on day and night, the low wattage bulb casting a yellowish glow onto the hallway’s hardwood floor. She paused at the gate, knowing it would make too much noise if she unlatched it. She’d have to squeeze underneath like she always did.
Just tall enough to see over the top, Madison looked down the stairwell. Or tried to look. None of the light from the chandelier behind her seemed to penetrate the thick darkness that filled the stairway. Taking a deep breath, she backed her way feet first under the gate, her stomach touching the cold floor where her pajama top scrunched up. Any minute now, something was going to grab her feet . . . she was sure of it! For a moment, fear froze her halfway under. But there was no backing out now. She said she’d get the Cheerios and she was going to get them!
Finally, her head squeezed through under the gate and she plopped her butt down on the top step. Darkness crowded her senses. She felt disoriented, like she was floating in a sea of ink. She closed her eyes, pretended the light was on, and felt her way cautiously down, step by step. When she reached the bottom, she slowly turned the doorhandle and pushed, careful not to let the old door creak. Once in the kitchen, she ran to the refrigerator and opened its door for some light. The linoleum under her bare feet grew colder with the air from the fridge and she shivered.
Carefully opening the pantry door, she got out a Dixie cup and the box of cereal. She filled up the cup, careful not to drop any o’s, then put the box back exactly as she had found it. Reluctantly, she closed the refrigerator door and was plunged into darkness again.
“Almost done. Almost done,” she repeated over and over to herself as she inched her way back to the stairs. She managed to close the door without a sound and scampered up the steps. Going up was always easier – she could see the light behind the gate. Madison maneuvered the cup of cereal through one of the wide slats and placed it on the floor on the other side. Then she made quick work of squirming underneath the gate, anxious to escape the stairwell. In a few short minutes, she was safely back in her bed.
Madison sat in the middle of her bed, clutching the cup of Cheerios, trying to catch her breath. She couldn’t believe what she had just done. If she didn’t feel so much like screaming, she might have even been proud of herself.
“Lowering the bridge,” Tina whispered, as she reached across the small space between their beds. She put her hands on Maddy’s bed and kept her feet on her own, making her body straight and strong in between. “Okay, bridge toll!”
Madison smiled, her harrowing experience momentarily forgotten, and pushed a few Cheerios into Tina’s mouth. Then she carefully climbed onto her sister’s back and crossed over to Tina’s bed. Giggling with delight when she reached the other side, she announced, “Okay, time to go back!” Once again, she shimmied across her sister to her own bed.
“Ouch,” Tina complained as a knee dug into her shoulder. “I think the bridge is closed for the night.”
Disappointed, Madison shoved a handful of o’s into her mouth and handed the cup to her sister. “Let’s play a different game.”
“Like what?”
“Let’s go to sleep and meet in our dreams.”
Tina sneered, “You can’t do that, stupid.”
“How do you know? Have you ever tried?”
Tina sighed. “I’ve never tried to fly, either. But I know I can’t.”
“Everything is possible! Let’s just try it.”
“Fine,” Tina replied, stifling a yawn. “I’m tired now, anyway.”
“Great! See you in my dreams,” Madison whispered excitedly.
“Whatever.” Tina flopped back onto her pillow and kicked off the covers. It was hot.
Madison laid back on her pillow. She turned her back toward the wall and pulled the blanket up to her chin. She was hot, too, but the soft blanket made her feel safe. She could see a pattern on the insides of her eyelids as she relaxed into sleep. It looked like hundreds of multicolored balloons floating in a dark sky.
Moments pass timelessly in sleep. They could have been asleep for only minutes or for hours.
They slept . . .
. . . and they dreamt.
Madison was in a park surrounded by beautiful old oak trees. The sun was shining brightly from overhead and a cool breeze was moving through her hair. She climbed a small grassy hill. From the top she could see a blanket spread out on the lush grass near a stand of pine trees. Someone was sitting on the blanket, but they were too far away to see who it was. The person waved, and she waved back. She started down the hill, bright yellow dandelions smiling up at her as she walked.
Tina greeted her with a warm smile as she reached the blanket. She spread her arms out wide to indicate the many bowls and plates lined up on the checkered cloth. Upon closer inspection, Maddy could see that the blanket was filled with fried chicken, potato salad, watermelon, pretzels, soda . . . so many delicious treats! She dropped onto the edge of the blanket and reached for a plate. Then she and Tina ate and ate and laughed . . .
Madison’s eyes fluttered opened and she realized she was in her bed. The dream was still very vivid in her mind and she laid still for a moment to make sure she wouldn’t lose it. Then she called to her sister. “Tina. Wake up,” she whispered loudly.
Tina groaned, then opened her eyes. “What?” she mumbled sleepily.
“What were you just dreaming?”
“Oh, Maddy, go back to sleep,” Tina moaned, pulling the pillow over her head.
Madison sat up in bed. “Tina, did you dream about a picnic?”
Several moments of silence passed. Madison thought her sister had fallen back to sleep. Then, slowly, Tina pulled the pillow away from her face. “A picnic?”
“Yeah, with chicken and potato salad and we were in a park with lots of trees and flowers . . .” Madison had to stop to take a breath.
“Oh, God,” Tina groaned, pulling the pillow up over her mouth and nose, leaving just her eyes to glint in the faint light.
“You dreamt it, too, didn’t you?” she asked, forgetting to whisper.
“Shhh! Never mind. Go back to sleep.” Tina turned her back to Maddy.
Frowning, Madison crawled back under the covers. She thought for sure it had worked.
“Maddy,” Tina mumbled, close to sleep.
“Yes?”
“You really are weird, you know that?”
Madison’s eyebrows arched in surprise, then she smiled, understanding. Her sister had been in her dream. The smile was still on her lips as she drifted back to sleep.
Tina refused to talk about the dream. Madison asked her many times in the weeks to come but Tina’s answer was always the same, ‘Leave me alone, weirdo!’.
One Thursday morning, just before it was time for Tina to go back to school, the girls went for a walk together. The air was hot and dry, the locusts shouting their songs from the trees that lined the Boulevard. Tina paused when they reached the vacant house at the corner. It was a small two story with stucco painted an ugly mint green. There was a big open porch on the side with a waist high cement wall along its perimeter. It invited further investigation.
The two girls climbed the steps to the porch and shuffled around for a few minutes before stopping at the front door. There was a half moon window at the top of the heavy walnut door with an etching in the clear glass that looked like a sunset, with all the sunbeams reaching up into the sky.
Tina looked up at the window, then glanced down mischievously at her little sister, “Do you believe in magic?”
Madison was instantly enthralled. “Sure!”
“Let’s you and me do some magic. Look,” she pointed up to the clear, blue sky. “It hasn’t rained in weeks and all Mom’s flowers are dying. Let’s make it rain!”
Madison jumped up and down, thrilled to be playing a game with her sister. “Okay! How?”
“Do what I do.” Tina paused, trying to think something up. “Here, hold my hand and look at the magic sun in the door window. Concentrate!”
Madison wasn’t quite sure what to concentrate on, but she put on her most serious expression anyhow.
“Now, repeat after me. ‘Oh, magic window with a sun, it’s time for sunshine to be done. All the flowers wilt in pain – now it’s time to have some rain!’”
Madison repeated her sister’s incantation over and over, feeling a bit silly. Nothing happened. Hesitantly, Madison let go of her sister’s hand and stood facing the real sun.
Head tilted back, she spread her arms out down by her sides, palms facing outward. She could swear she felt something, like a tingling in her palms. It was as if the sunshine on her hands was filling her with energy.
Drawing in a slow, deep breath, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Let it rain.” Another deep breath and she opened her eyes. After a few beats of her heart, something was different. The locusts had stopped their symphony. The only sound now was the traffic.
Tina gasped as the first drop landed on her cheek. Looking up, the once clear sky now had a dark, ominous cloud floating directly overhead. A few more drops spattered onto the stucco porch, painting it a deep, forest green.
Tina stared at her sister who was standing before her with a satisfied smile on her face. “You are so weird!” she shrieked, as she ran off towards home.
Madison’s smile dripped away from her face with the rain. She had only done what her sister had wanted, hadn’t she? Mom was right. Sometimes there was no figuring out teenagers. Madison tilted her head back and let the warm rain wash her face. Then she slowly wandered home after her sister.
That night, it was Tina’s turn to turn off the light. She hadn’t said much at dinner and after she jumped into bed she didn’t even say good night. Madison pulled the blanket up to her bottom lip.
“Tina, are you mad at me?”
“No.”
“How come you’re so quiet?”
“I’m just thinking. Go to sleep.”
Silence.
“What are you thinking about?” Madison asked in a small voice.
Tina rolled over to face her sister. “You. You’re different. Weird.”
“Stop saying that! I am not weird,” she pouted.
“Right. If you say so.”
After several minutes of heavy silence, Madison asked, “Tina, can we play Bridge?”
“Not tonight, Maddy. I’m too tired.”
“I’ll go get supplies,” she coaxed. “Come on. Just once across and once back?”
Tina squinted at her little sister, lost in shadow except for the meager light from the hallway glinting in her eyes. She hated to play Bridge, but for some reason her silly sister loved it. Reluctantly she said, “Well, okay. But this time, get Fruit Loops.”
Madison’s face split into a smile and she sat up with excitement. She was about to throw back the covers and bounce out of bed when she saw it.
The chandelier at the back gate which was always lit had a twin at the top of the front stairs that was never lit. Tonight, Madison noticed that the shadow cast on the wall above her parent’s door from the chandelier at the top of the stairs looked like a head. A man’s profile . . . and the man was speaking. Although there was no sound, you could clearly see that his lips were moving.
Madison shook her head and blinked, thinking her eyes were just playing tricks on her. She looked again, but the man was still there, still having his silent conversation.
“Tina? Can you come over to my bed for a sec?” Madison asked in a strangled whisper.
“What for?”
“Please? I want to show you something.”
Grumbling, Tina threw back her covers and bounced onto Maddy’s bed. “What do you want?”
Tina could see the silhouette of Maddy’s steady hand as she pointed into the hallway. “See that shadow above Mom and Dad’s door?”
Tina’s eyes grew wide and she shivered, despite the warm night. “It’s just the chandelier,” she replied shakily.
“Yeah, but what does it look like?”
Tina swallowed hard. “Okay. It looks like some guy, talking.”
“That’s what I think it looks like, too,” Maddy said in an awed whisper.
The two of them sat there, staring at the profile jabbering away above their parents’ bedroom door. Too afraid to talk or move, they clutched at each other until they were too tired to watch the head any longer. Both girls got into Tina’s bed where it wouldn’t be visible and fell asleep in each others arms.
The next morning, they laughed at how silly they had been. But the head was there from then on, night after night. They never told anyone else. Especially not their mom.
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