A Mother's Second Chance: The Most Innocent of Seductions
Gail wasn't alone. It was impossible, of course, but still she knew it to be the truth. No matter how unfeasible it may have seemed-- she... was... not... alone.
It took a whole year to get to this point, but when it finally arrived Gail was left breathless with pent up anticipation. Deep down inside, she understood his presence still lingered throughout the house, watching, waiting, and now, maybe, just maybe, her long, lonely wait was over.
It was nearly eleven pm, exactly one year after the tragic accident which took her son's life on, of all days, his birthday..
What really troubled Gail was the stark realization his accident, his death, could have been easily avoided--if only she would have been a bit braver that evening.
Gail, alone in her bedroom, alone in the big house, alone in her sad life, was in the process of getting undressed when she heard the distinct sound of her bedroom's closet door being opened slowly.
She paused halfway through pulling her sweater up. She let it drop back down, before turning to stare across her spacious bedroom at the closet door. Although she could see no one, she perceived someone was there. If only to reaffirm this feeling, there seemed to come from the closet a small creaking noise-- as if someone, just inside the door, standing there, shifted their weight.
Of course, the house was old and prone to a whole array of weird noises. Gail knew this, yet still, she felt sure of being watched.
Gail stood still while silently weighing her options. Part of her wanted to rush across the bedroom, fling the closet door open, exposing who, or what, might be there. She quickly dismissed this option as being overly aggressive. Instead, she started across the bedroom, heading toward her bathroom, deciding to get undressed there in perceived safety.
She progressed no more than a few feet when she heard the closet door creak louder this time; like when it was being opened fully.
Turning, she looked across the dimly lit room having just enough time to observe a dark figure standing in the entrance to her closet, but before she could make out anything further, the bedroom was plunged into total darkness when, simultaneously, both lamps on the nightstands flanking her bed went out.
She stood there, her breath coming in shallow gasps, knowing for sure now she was not alone, leaving her scared, yet not sacred, both feelings seemingly joined at the hip. She counted to ten slowly in an effort to calm her jangled nerves, and to allow her eyes to adjust to the dark. After reaching ten, with the bedroom remaining eerily quiet, she moved cautiously toward the nearer of the two nightstands.
About a month ago, she had taken the precaution of placing a variety of candles on both nightstands, along with matches, ready to be lit at a moment's notice. The lights in the old house had been--unstable-- for quite some time now. She suspected, especially when the electrician could find nothing wrong, it was him messing with the lights.
She tried clicking on the lamp. Nothing. She straightened up, thinking she heard a noise behind her. Total silence. It seemed to stretch out forever-- as she stood still waiting, and hoping in the darkness.
"William... is that you?" she asked quietly.
After what seemed like forever a quiet voice answered. "Only one." The voice was too soft for her to identify-- with absolute certainty-- but it surely sounded like her William.
"Only one," she repeated softly to herself, before understanding what it meant. Turning to the nightstand, she picked up the matches and lit one of the white tapered candles in its glass candle holder.
Gail, desperate for deeper and more meaningful contact, previously decided, on this anniversary night, if he did try to make contact with her, to be utterly fearless--unlike one year ago.
Her heart skipped a beat when she heard the sound of footsteps crossing the room toward her before stopping a few feet away. Gail listened carefully. She could hear the sound of breathing by the foot of the bed. There was a small thud; something landed on the bed.
Turning toward the bed, she could see it was her white satin robe, folded neatly in a square.
His voice came floating to her, loud enough this time to identify, from somewhere across the dark bedroom. It was him! He was standing back, far enough away from the small pool of light cast by the candle where he was nothing more than an indistinct figure to her. Despite not being able to see him clearly, it was him. She knew it. He had returned--but to what purpose?
"Bathroom, put it on and nothing more." His voice was clear and concise.
"I--"
Cutting her off he snapped, "No questions, Mother, or I shall disappear for good this time."
She started to open her mouth, to question him further, despite his dire warning, but as she strained to make out his features he seemed to be fading.
Snapping her mouth shut, she picked up the robe and headed to the bathroom. It was the same robe she wore the night he died.
Just as she reached the doorway, she turned. "Nothing else, William?"
"Nothing else. Take your time. Things to prepare. Will knock when time."
"OK," she said before disappearing inside the bathroom.
Inside, she took her time stripping off her clothes, mulling over how impossible it was she just had a real conversation with her dead son, but yet, she did. Deciding it might not be very wise to over think things too much, Gail let the matter of what was possible, and what was not possible, drop. She would just accept things as they came.
