Monday, January 23, 2012

HERE ARE THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS OF MISS CHEYENNE MITCHELL'S SUPERNATURAL THRILLER/DRAMA "IN THE LIGHT OF DARKNESS" COPYRIGHT 2007

MISS CHEYENNE  MITCHELL'S        "IN  THE  LIGHT  OF  DARKNESS"             Copyright  2007
Chapters 3-5


                                                            "CHAPTER   THREE"

    I was absorbed in my memories of that day a year ago. I didn't hear Malin talking to me. He had been talking but I hadn't heard  a word he said.  I didn't realize we were running either. It was already dark outside, and Malin was holding onto my hand tightly.
   "Did you hear what I said, Tyla?" he asked me. "No," I replied. "What did you say, Malin?" "I said," he answered, "maybe Mama is busy doing something, and won't notice how dark it is out here."  "I sure hope so," I panted as we ran toward home.  "You know how mean she can get if we make her mad."  "I know," replied my brother.  We were running to get home as fast as our legs would carry us.  But it wasn't fast enough.
   While Malin and I were running I thought,  "She  never  puts  her  hands  on  me  no  matter  what  I  do."    Not that any of us ever did anything to warrant Mama's cruelty toward us. Usually I was with Emmaline, or Malin whenever we got into trouble with her. But she would always beat them not me. All of that was about to change much sooner than I knew.
    As my brother and I got closer to our house we saw Mama pacing back, and forth on the front porch.  She looked up, and saw us running.  I will never forget the evil sneer she had on her face as long as I live. She stopped pacing the floor, and reached down to pick up an electric cord she used to beat m y siblings with.  Practically running down the front steps she grabbed Malin around his neck with one hand.  Then hit him as hard as she could with the cord she held in her other hand. My brother screamed in pain as she kept on hitting him.  I was horrified!
   I hoped Grandmom Faya would hear his terrible screams, and come to our rescue. Malin's little body was trembling, and jerking from the pain Mama was inflicting on him.  It looked the same way Emmaline and I saw Miss Miriam's body do when she was sick. She called them 'epileptic seizures', and they started when she was a young woman.  Also, she told us what to do in case it happened while we were visiting her.
    Miss Miriam told Emmaline and I it was a blow to her head which knocked her unconscious. Two months after that she began having the seizures. She told us she rarely had them as she grew older. But they still occurred without warning once in a while. Those seizures she had were terrible to see. My sister and I felt sorry for Miss Miriam because she was such a nice lady.
   As I watched my dear brother going through something like that, and my grandmother nowhere in sight to help us I became enraged at Mama. I began to sob hysterically. Before I knew it I ran over to her, and bit her as hard as I could on her side. Still holding onto my brother with one hand she dropped the electric cord from her other hand, and grabbed her side screaming in pain. "Ow!" she yelled. "You stinking, little bitch!  I'm going to kill you for that shit!"  With that she grabbed me by my hair, and threw me against the wall of the house. Just as she did to my sister that day. In all of this she was still holding onto Malin who was crying uncontrollably.  Mama came at me again.
    "I'll kill you!" she shouted at me. "So help me I will!"  Her teeth were clenched tightly together in rage, and anger. I was dazed from her attack on me. Sprawled on the floor of the front porch too scared to move I saw something in her face I never saw before. It was pure hatred!  "She  hates  me!"  I thought terrified.  "And  she  is  really  going  to  kill  me!"  Instinctively, I began to cringe before her.
    As Mama reached for me the screen door swung open violently, and there stood my grandmother. Her eyes blazed with anger like fire, and both of her fists were clenched into tight, little balls.  She stepped between Mama and I.
   "You touch any of these children again you bitch," she hissed at Mama incensed, "and I'll make you wish you hadn't!"  The anger in her face was evident. I saw Mama become visibly shaken, and afraid.  A smirk came upon her lips as she reached down to pick up the electric cord that had fallen to the porch floor. But Grandmom Faya put her foot on it. "Not today, bitch!" she said to Mama with her eyes blazing with anger. "If you think I'm playing you can try me right now! Let that child go!"  She was staring directly into Mama's eyes, but she wouldn't let my brother go. Grandmom Faya got right into Mama's face, and I heard her whisper, "I'm ready. Are you?" It was a threat, and Mama knew it.
    They glared at one another for what seemed to me like minutes but in reality was only seconds. I knew the two women could feel each other's breath on their faces as they stared one another down. One daring the other one to make a move to harm Malin or I. "Well," my grandmother said to Mama angrily, "what's it going to be, bitch?"  Mama grinned at her wickedly then let Malin go.
    As Mama went into the house my grandmother watched her with rage, and anger still in her eyes. After that she wrapped both Malin and I in her arms, and hugged us tightly. My brother whimpered in pain. "Oh honey I'm so sorry," said Grandmom Faya. She kissed each one of us on our foreheads.
   "This shit is going to stop right now, children," said my grandmother. "I promise you that. It's time someone dealt with that wicked witch once and for all. And that someone is gong to be me."  From the look on her face I knew things were going to be very different for my siblings, and I after that. 
  "G-grandmom," I said still shaken from my ordeal with Mama, "you should have seen her face when she was coming after me!  It was terrible!  She hates me because I saw it in her face!"  Malin stopped crying. But his little body was trembling from the horrible beating. He was very angry as he wiped his tear-streaked face.
    "I'm going to kill her one of these days," he said seriously to my grandmother and I. "I am. You just wait and see. If I don't kill her she's going to kill me."  My grandmother and I both realized how much he hated Mama, and wanted her dead.  "I know she will, Grandmom," he said. "She is going to end up killing all of us or at least one of us. She really wants to you know."
   I had never seen Malin so angry before. But I knew he meant what he was saying, and so did my grandmother. "Now, now, child," she said to Malin soothingly trying to calm him down. "She is not worth it. She will get what's coming to her believe me.  You won't have to do anything to her. I have a feeling that whatever is coming for Charon Davidson is already in the works."
   Malin and I looked at one another in confusion at what she said. "What do you mean by that, Grandmom?" Malin asked her. "Don't you worry your little heads about it," she said evasively. "it's not your problem....not anymore.   Let me see your back, Malin."  My grandmother changed the subject as she raised his shirt, and saw many ugly, red welts on his back.  There were bruises all over his torso as a matter of fact. Also, there were old bruises, and scars on his arms and legs. "Come inside the house," said Grandmom Faya. "Let's go into the kitchen so I can put something on those bruises for you, Malin."
   The three of us went into the kitchen. My grandmother got some ointment, and dressing to care for my brother's bruises. After she took care of Malin she made all of us some hot cocoa, and sandwiches.  Since no dinner had been prepared for us by Mama. I knew that was intentional. Grandmom Faya thought no more about the words of anger Malin spoke regarding Mama. But those words were soon to come true.
    My grandmother sent me upstairs to get my other siblings so they could eat, too. Mama disappeared into her bedroom. Her door was closed when I got upstairs. The only time her bedroom door was closed was if she was in there. Secretly, I hoped she would stay in her bedroom, and never come out.  It was only wishful thinking.
   I found Emmaline in our bedroom, and told her to come downstairs to eat. Nicholas was also in his bedroom, but I couldn't find Andrew, Jr. anywhere.  I recalled the night before when I saw him going into Mama's bedroom with her. He looked so unhappy and sad, but when he saw me he smiled.  Also, I recalled the week before when I overheard Mama trying to make him come into her bedroom.  But he refused.  Mama cursed him out badly, but he still refused to go. The day after that no one saw Andrew, Jr., and everyone wondered where he was.
   It was the same night Nicholas told Emmaline, who wanted to be called Emma by then, and I that Mama locked Andrew, Jr. in the basement. She was angry with him for not doing as she told him to do. We wanted to tell Grandmom Faya but we were all too scared to do it. Now I wished we had told her about it.
   Nicholas told the rest of us how Mama always did those kinds of things to him, and Andrew, Jr. She would be nice, and sweet to them. Then do something to hurt them when they least expected it. She was very sneaky, and dirty. However, she didn't bother much with Nicholas anymore. She knew he was not afraid of her, and he hated her.
   Nicholas informed us that on the day of the bedroom incident, and Andrew, Jr.'s refusal Mama started treating him nicely. She asked him to go down into the basement, and get something for her. Nicholas couldn't remember what it was she wanted from down there. But when Andrew, Jr. went down to the basement she shut the door on him, and locked it. Nicholas said he would have let Andrew, Jr. out of the basement.  But Mama had taken the key, and hidden it.
   Nicholas knew there would be a fight between my grandmother and Mama so he didn't tell. He knew somehow if he had told on her she would have made him pay for what he did in some way. Indubitably, Mama would see to that.
    According to Nicholas, hours later when she knew Andrew, Jr. was asleep, she went downstairs to the basement, and tied him up. Then she beat him with the same electric cord she used on Malin.  She kept Andrew, Jr. down in that cellar for days, Nicholas told us. It was then he made up his mind to leave home for a few days. Before she gathered enough courage to start in on him. I wondered why I hadn't seen Nicholas for a few days.
    Grandmom Faya called Sheriff Bicket but they didn't do much. Nicholas had a history of running away from home. Andrew, Jr. and Nicholas were both big enough, and strong enough to fight Mama off. For that reason she would wait until she knew they were asleep, tie them up, then beat them sometimes until they were bloody.
    When I saw Andrew, Jr. again it was the previous night when I saw him with Mama going into her bedroom. He looked thin, bruised, and sickly to me. I couldn't understand why he never ran away like Nicholas did. But they were opposites of one another.
   Nicholas tried his best to tell Andrew, Jr. it wasn't his problem to stay, and take Mama's horrid abuse, but he wouldn't listen. I wish he had listened.  But he kept on taking Mama's cruelty, and abuse....physically, mentally, and emotionally.
   I went back downstairs to the kitchen, and told Grandmom Faya I couldn't find Andrew, Jr. anywhere in the house. Also, I told her about the last time I saw him, and what Nicholas told the rest of us.
    "Oh no!" cried my grandmother a little unstrung. "Oh my God!"  She hadn't realized Mama had taken things so far in her untoward treatment of us. She began to look worried and frightful, and I got scared, too.  "I didn't know she was such a sick woman," said my grandmother with perspicacity.  "From now on you children should never be afraid to tell me anything," she told us imperiously. "Do you understand me?  Never are you to keep things from me again."  We looked at her, and nodded our heads in cohered agreement.   "Things  are  finally  going  to  change  for  us  around  here  just  like  she  promised,"   I thought happily.  It was the catalyst to something else that was to come for us.  Something that was going to change our entire household, and the way we lived forever.
    "After you all are finished eating," commented Grandmom Faya, "we're going to tear this place apart until we find Andrew, Jr.  Okay?"  "Okay, Grandmom," we replied. "I don't have good feelings about this," said my grandmother with exigency. "Especially after what Tyla has told me." My grandmother recalled the time when my sister, Emma, and my brother, Malin, were both missing for a few days, and asked them about it. "Emma, when you and Malin were gone that time after Charon beat you where were you?" she asked.  It was Malin who answered her.
    "Mama locked us in the shed out back, Grandmom," he told her. "Every day she would come out there, and give us each a slice of bread to eat, and a little bit of water to drink. Then she would beat on us some more with that electric cord she uses."
    "Yeah," said Emma angrily, "she made us stay out there all tied up with no clothes on, too. It was cold, and we were freezing, Grandmom. But she didn't care one bit. All she did was laugh like it was funny to her."  Emma paused for a minute then said, "Do you know what she said to us, Grandmom?"  "No," said Grandmom Faya. "Tell me."  I could see she was dreading what she was about to find out from the moue I saw on her face. "She told us we were nothing but pieces of shit!" continued Emma angrily. "She told us if she ever got a chance she would kill all of us, Grandmom," added Malin.
     My grandmother put her head down on the kitchen table. She didn't want us to see the tears that were in her eyes. "How could I have ever let these things happen in my own house right under my nose?" she asked herself completely baffled. "Are you going to beat her up for hurting us, Grandmom?" asked Malin hardly able to contain his composure. All of us would have loved to see that.
     My grandmother answered,"Not unless I have absolutely no other choice, sweetheart."  She raised her head up from the table, and continued talking to us. "There are other ways to deal with people like Charon Davidson believe me," she said. "Let's just find Andrew, Jr. first. Okay?"  My grandmother stopped talking as she shook her head in disbelief at the things she was learning from all of us.
    We were eating but my grandmother lost her appetite.  I knew she wanted to kill Mama, and it was all she could do to keep the rage she felt inside her from spilling out. For our sakes she was trying her best to remain as cool, and equable as she could. "As God is my witness," she solemnly swore, "she will never harm you children again. I just hope, and pray it's not too late for Andrew, Jr."
   After we finished eating our meal my grandmother cleaned up the kitchen. Then we began our search for Andrew, Jr. We searched every room in the house, and even out back in the shed. Also, we looked in the basement.  But we couldn't find him anywhere.  "I know that child is in this house somewhere,"  my grandmother said worriedly.
   "What do we do now, Grandmom?" asked Emma. "Well," said my grandmother, "you children go on to bed. It's getting late, and you have to go to school in the morning." So together all of us headed upstairs to bed. My grandmother told us maybe Andrew, Jr. was visiting with someone he was friendly with.  But we knew she didn't really believe it. She decided after we were all asleep if he hadn't come home she was going to confront Mama with her suspicions.
   After tucking all of us into our beds that night Grandmom Faya kissed each one of us, and told us good-night. Then she went to her own bedroom. She changed into her nightgown, and laid across her bed to rest for a little while. She wanted to be sure we were asleep before she confronted Mama.
   I can remember everything my grandmother told me about that night. As she laid in her bed she got angrier than she already was. Not just with Mama, but with herself for letting things get so out of control in her own house. She drifted off to sleep as she laid there. It wasn't until many years later when she told me about the eerie visitations she received that night. They would be indeliby burned into her memory forever. The truth about our dissolute, family history as well as the surreptitious secrets she, and her sisters tried to keep buried would soon be exposed.
   Grandmom Faya told me she was suddenly awakened that night by something unknown at first. A gust of wind blew into her bedroom window which had only been cracked a little. A cold chill came over her body that made her shudder violently. As she sat up in her bed another cold chill came over her. The light from her bedside lamp started to grow dimmer, and dimmer until the room was almost dark.
     There at the foot of her bed she saw Andrew standing......my father and her son.  He looked very handsome to her. But his face was drawn, and haggard as if he was worried about something. The sorrowfulness of his spirit was more than obvious to her as she looked at him. "Andrew, honey," she asked his spirit cautiously, "what do you want?"
    "Mama," his spirit spoke to her, "don't be afraid for Andrew, Jr. anymore. Be afraid for my other children because Marie is in this house with you all. She controls Charon just like she always has. I have tried to help them but there isn't much I can do. She is very powerful, Mama, just as she was in her lifetime. The children need you. You are the only one who can save them.  Marie fears you, Mama, in death just as she did in life."
    His spirit hesitated for a few seconds then said to her, "One more thing, Mama."  "Yes, Andrew?" she said. "Please forgive me for all of the pain I put you and Aunt Miriam through.  Okay?"  he continued.  Then his spirit vanished, and her bedroom became bright again.  The icy chill she felt was gone, too.
   "Oh, my God!" she exclaimed horrified. "Marie is in this house?"  She sat on the side of her bed, and realized her worst fears were about to come true. Andrew, Jr. had been murdered, and his body was somewhere inside the house.  My grandmother told me how she began to sob after that. The grievous memories of her past came flooding back to her.  The terrible memories she managed for a long time to push out of her mind.
    "Dear Andrew," she said to herself softly.  "How could I have ever called Miriam a horrible mother?  It was never her fault you got caught up in a bad situation. Your father was an evil man. Marie was determined he would marry her instead of Miriam. Even though it was Miriam who was carrying his child. She caused so much pain, and heartache with her hatred, wickedness, and jealousy. She hated her own sister because of a man. Even in death her restive spirit cannot find peace. Her fomentation will never die until she destroys your children like she destroyed you." Grandmom Faya realized what she had to do. First of all she had to find Andrew, Jr. wherever he had been hidden.  After that she would confront Mama head on.
   There was something else my grandmother knew she had to do.  "It's  time  for  me  to  make  peace  with  my  sister,"   she vowed.   "I  will  need  her   help  to  keep  these   children  safe.  We  have  to  be  conflated  now  because  it's  the   only  way."
    After Andrew appeared to her Grandmom Faya looked at the clock on her nightstand. It had only been a half an hour since she put us to bed.  She knew we liked to talk amongst  ourselves before falling asleep.  So laying back against her pillows she waited a little while longer before she would begin her search for Andrew, Jr.  She drifted off to sleep, and began to dream.
     In her dream Grandmom Faya saw Andrew, Jr.  He was standing down by the lake near the spot under the big, oak tree Malin and I called our  'secret place'.  We didn't know my grandmother knew about it but she did.  I learned about that many years later.
    My oldest brother began to speak to her in the dream.  "Grandmom," he said, "your house has hidden rooms behind the walls in the basement.  If you go down there, and search them you will find me."  Instantly she awoke with a horrible feeling clutching her heart.
    "Oh no!" she cried. She looked at the clock.  An hour had passed since she had fallen asleep. We were definitely asleep by that time. She got up to search the basement as my brother's spirit instructed her to do.  She put on her housecoat, and bedroom slippers. She knew about the rooms my brother mentioned.  However, she was surprised Mama knew about them, too.  My grandmother often suspected my siblings and I may have discovered them. Yet, she never questioned us about the matter.
      Once she got downstairs Grandmom Faya got a flashlight from a drawer in the kitchen, and headed for the basement. Before going down the stairs she already knew from her two, ghostly visitors what she would find.  Her heart was beating frantically.
     "My God!" she murmured to herself. "How could I have let this happen?  How?  After what happened to their father I should have known better.  I should have been more on top of things in this house."  She chastised herself for being so unaware of Mama's viciousness toward us.
     In the basement she pushed open a panel in one of the walls which revealed a hidden room.  It was small, and dark inside.  A feeling of deep dread washed over my grandmother as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.  She entered the hidden room.  The dim light of the flashlight shone on a figure of a young boy.  He was hanging from one of the beams in the ceiling. She put her hand over her mouth as if to stifle a scream at the sight. Then she stood frozen in terror. She stared at the limp body whose face, and head were almost unrecognizable to her. She could see the boy had been beaten as well as tortured. The scratches, and cuts on his now thin arms, and hands revealed he tried to defend himself from a terrible attacker.  He looked so small, and fragile to her. 
   Grandmom Faya's eyes filled with tears of anguish, and heartbreak.  They spilled over onto her cheeks.  She took the body down from the thick rope it was hanging from, and held Andrew, Jr. in her arms.  She sobbed heartbreakingly as she gently rocked my dead brother back, and forth.  "Oh, Andrew, Jr.," she sobbed.  "This is all my fault.  I'm so sorry I let you down."
    My grandmother held my brother's body in her arms for a long time. Then she laid him on the basement floor, and went to telephone Sheriff Bicket. She never at any time had to wonder, or guess what happened to my dear brother.


        
                                                         "CHAPTER   FOUR"

    My grandmother was shocked, and horrified when she read Andrew, Jr.'s Death Certificate. It said he died as a result of  'suicide'.  She was outraged!  And vehemently argued with Sheriff Bicket, and the Coroner condemning their so-called  investigation they conducted. However, it didn't do her any good.  They refused to changed my brother's cause of death.  The Coroner, James Witley, was an old boyfriend of Mama's.  My grandmother knew she promised the man something in order for him to outright lie about Andrew, Jr.'s death.  It was obvious some spurious perfidy was initiated on Mama's part.  However, she had no way of proving it. She didn't know what the Sheriff stood to gain by that fallacy.
    Grandmom Faya knew something was terribly wrong when an obvious beating, and torture caused my brother's death.  Yet, a Coroner would call it a suicide.  My grandmother wanted to hurt Mama badly after that.  Just as badly as she knew she hurt Andrew, Jr.  Years passed before Grandmom Faya revealed to my siblings, and I how my brother really died.
    A few days before that my grandmother confronted Mama about Andrew, Jr.'s death. And told her she knew without a doubt she murdered my brother. She told Mama to pack her bags, and leave that house never to come back.  She never wanted to see her again. My siblings and I would not be leaving with her.  I cannot tell you how grateful we were for that.
    The confrontation occurred on the night Grandmom Faya found Andrew, Jr.'s body. It was after Sheriff Bicket and Coroner Witley were gone. My sister, brothers, and I were awakened by the heated dissonance between the two women.  We heard the accusations Grandmom Faya hurled at Mama. "I know you murdered Andrew, Jr., Charon," we heard her say to Mama.
  "You don't know what the hell you're talking about, Faya," Mama shot back at her. "Why don't you mind your own damn business anyway."  "I  am  minding my own damn business!" shouted Grandmom Faya angrily. "This is   my  house not yours!  I don't want a murdering, lying bitch like you in it any longer.  Pack your things, and get the hell out of my house!  You have twenty four hours to do it."
    "Oh, really?" retorted Mama sarcastically.  "What about my children?  If I go they go with me. You do know that.  Don't you, Faya?  I will make sure you never see any of them again. You better believe that, too!"  Suddenly it got really quiet.  I knew my grandmother was glaring angrily at Mama by then. 
   "Whatever happened to you, Charon?" my grandmother asked Mama callously. "You've always had your faults like everybody else. But in the past eight years you've become a monster......just downright evil."  We could tell from the tone of her voice Grandmom Faya was doing all she could do to control her angst, and rage.  "You    will  leave those children here when you go, Charon," she told Mama impiously. "Do you really believe I would let you kill them off as you've murdered Andrew, Jr?"  "I didn't murder anybody you stupid, crazy bitch!" Mama shouted at my grandmother.  Her voice was fraught with duplicity so it was easy to tell she was lying.
    "You're truly a sick woman, Charon," my grandmother said to her. "You need help!  Like I said you have twenty four hours to get your rotten ass out of my house. Never think about coming back here, or ever coming near those children again. Do you hear me?"  It was easy for us to tell Grandmom Faya was getting more, and more enraged at Mama. However, she was controlling it well.
    "I don't ever want to see your hellish face again, Charon," said my grandmother, "as long as I live." She was speaking to Mama in a low, threatening voice by then. "And don't make the mistake of believing anyone will help you fight against me either," Grandmom Faya added as if she knew Mama would comprehend what she was talking about.
   "I don't have any idea what the hell you're talking about, Faya," said Mama impertinently. Yet, it was plain from her tone of voice she knew exactly what my grandmother was ineluctably referring to. "Oh, yes you do," contradicted my grandmother. "You know damn well   what  as well as   who  I am talking about.  Don't try to play dumb with me. I disown you as my sister, Charon. I hope to God you burn in hell for what you've done to these children, and to my son."
   Mama laughed, and it was an evil, sinister laughter.  "Your  son!"  she mocked. "I guess you've really believed that nonsense all of these years.  Haven't you, Faya?"  She hesitated, and my grandmother was quiet.  "You poor, pathetic, stupid woman," Mama continued, laughing a wicked, inimical laughter. "Andrew was not   your   son, dear heart."
    "Get the hell out of here you sick, twisted bitch!"  Grandmom Faya spat imprecation as Mama effectuated more rage in her. The woman was the epitome of evil as far as we were concerned. "When ;you go the evil in my house will go with you."  "What evil?" asked Mama pretending to be surprised.
   "You really don't know do you, Charon?" asked my grandmother tacitly. Knowing she did not have to elucidate anything she was saying for Mama.  "Well that's too bad for you because I think  you do know. You know exactly   who   it is that has controlled you all of these years. Even if you won't admit it. She has you in the palm of her hand like a puppet on a string like she always has. She has you even from the grave. How could you ever forget all of the grievous despair she brought upon this family?  Or about all of the lives she destroyed with her treachery, and wickedness?"  As we listened to the two women arguing we were hearing about things in our family we never knew.  Suddenly Mama fell reticent.  To our stunned consternation we heard her sobbing.
   All four of us had been listening to everything the two women said to one another. We were shocked to say the least.  We never heard or saw Mama cry.  In fact, we didn't think she could cry or would cry.
    "Sister?"   whispered Emma in surprise, and shock.  "Mama and Grandmom Faya are sisters?"  "Sh-h-h!" I hissed at her.  We continued to listen as my grandmother began to speak to Mama again. "When you leave here, Charon," said Grandmom Faya, "we will all be better off. I should have gotten rid of you a long time ago before Andrew died.  Maybe Andrew, Jr. would still be alive. You killed my grandson. I know that for sure. Although I can't put all of the blame on you for his father's death without any proof."
    "Andrew was not your son, Faya," Mama said through her tears. "You know that, and so does Miriam.  He blew his brains out with a shotgun because he found out about you two. You did that to him, Faya, I didn't. How can you blame me in any way for Andrew's death?  What do you think the good people of Maron would think of you if they knew the truth about you, and the Davidson family, huh?"  She was ignominiously taunting my grandmother for reasons only they knew.
   "You knew everything that was gong on with Andrew and Teresa, Charon," said Grandmom Faya refusing to back down from Mama. "Yet, you stood by, and did nothing. Nor did you say anything to anybody about it. It could have been prevented, Charon. Hence, that makes you just a culpable as the killer. Doesn't it?  And we all know who that was. Don't we?"
    Again it was quiet, and we knew Grandmom Faya was glaring at Mama.  It was as if she knew what Mama was saying was true.  But it was something she could never undo.
   Lastly, we heard my grandmother say again, "You have twenty four hours, Charon, no more. You better be gone by this time tomorrow. Don't even think about coming to that child's funeral."  We heard Grandmom Faya leave Mama's bedroom.
    My siblings and I looked at one another. We couldn't believe all of the horrible things we heard. After all of that time we discovered Mama, and our grandmother were sisters. Also, that our father wasn't the child of our grandmother.   "Who  is  Teresa?"  We were asking ourselves.  "And  where  did  she  fit  into  all  of  this?"  
   There was something else that didn't fit in the puzzling drama, and it was something truly enigmatic. If my grandmother wasn't our father's mother who was she?  Where did our father fit in this puzzle?  After all he wouldn't be married to his own aunt.  Would he?
   There were pieces of the drama that wwere missing.  It didn't make any sense to us. There was definitely something amiss.  For most of the night we whispered among ourselves. We heard Mama packing her things to leave. We tried hard to come up with some answers to the questions going around inside our heads. But we couldn't figure out what was going on between Mama, Grandmom Faya, our father, Andrew, and whoever Teresa was.
   Our biggest, and most intricate questions were,  "Are  they  really  who they  say  they  are  in  connection  to  us?    Was  Mama  really  our  mother?    Was  Grandmom  Faya   really  our  grandmother?"   We even began to ask the question,  "Was  Andrew  really  our  father?"
    We were all confused.  Not to mention the fact my grandmother accused Mama of murdering our dear brother.  "Andrew, Jr. is dead?"  Emma asked with her face breaking up to cry.  Silently we sobbed.  "It can't be true,"  said Malin, who wasn't supposed to be in Emma's and my bedroom.  He and Nicholas crept into our room when the argument between Mama, and our grandmother awakened them.
   Each one of us hoped we heard them wrong.  None of us wanted to believe the part of their fracas about Andrew, Jr.  Our dear brother couldn't be dead. Grandmom Faya told us she would protect us.  Eventually, after everything quieted down all of us drifted off to sleep.
   The following morning Grandmom Faya woke all of us up, and told us about Andrew, Jr. What we overheard the night before was true.  He was dead.  We cried for what seemed like a long time because we loved our brother so much. We couldn't imagine living without him in our lives anymore.
   When our crying quieted into gentle sobbing Malin asked Grandmom Faya what happened to Andrew, Jr. All she told us was he was involved in a tragic accident.  She told us Mama was gone, and wouldn't be coming back.  Needless to say we were all every happy about that. It was a conspicuously bright spot in what was a very dark, ponderous day of heartache, and pain.
    We already agreed not to let Grandmom Faya know we overheard the fervid quarrel between her and Mama.  So we asked no questions about the things we heard them say to one another. I don't know how my grandmother kept so many things about our family to herself.
    Later that morning I stared out of the window, and watched as two men from two dug Andrew, Jr.'s grave.  All of our family members were to be buried in the plot which was on the rear grounds of the house when we died.  It was the way our family did things Grandmom Faya told us. No one ever went into a public cemetery.  I thought,  "There  must  be  a  family  plot  near  the  house  Grandmom   Faya  grew  up  in,  too."
    Saying good-bye to Andrew, Jr. was so difficult for all of us.  We had tears running down our faces. He looked so handsome in the dark-blue suit Grandmom Faya bought for him.  It was hard to accept the fact that he was dead, and was never coming back.  He looked so peaceful like he had just fallen asleep.
   Andrew, Jr. was laid out in the living room of our house.  A lot of people from Maron came to pay their respects. We didn't know he had so many friends. He was well liked in  spite of how hard Mama tried to keep any of us from having friends.  "A lot of these people just came to be nosy," Miss Miriam commented on some of the sympathizers.  My brother's body laid in the living room all day, and all night until the following morning when we buried him.
   The burial was private, and only attended by myself, Grandmom Faya, Emma, Nicholas, Malin, and to my joy and surprise, Miss Miriam.  The friends Andrew, Jr. had were invited to his funeral by my grandmother. Not surprisingly Mama was not there.
   At the grave site an eerie, and inexplicable anomaly occurred.  It was something that would stay with me for many years. A large, floral arrangement from Miss Miriam was placed atop Andrew, Jr.'s casket.  Grandmom Faya, Miss Miriam, the Priest, the two grave-diggers, my sister, brothers, and I stood around the grave.  The floral arrangement was lifted off of the casket by unseen hands into mid-air.  It stood above the casket for at least ten seconds as we watched in sheer horror. All of us knew someone   unseen   was there with us.  We were terrified!
   It was as if some invisible person was holding the arrangement in the air while we watched. The Priest began to tremble as he stopped reading from his Bible.  He stood there like the rest of us in shock, and transfixed with a look of fear on his face. Suddenly, as if being deliberately dropped by someone, the floral arrangement fell neatly back atop the casket.  Neither I nor any of the others would forget what we saw that day.
    Over the years, and as we grew older the incident seemed to remain with me longer than it did anyone else. Miss Miriam said,  "It's a sign that his spirit is not going to rest in peace until justice is done."   The numinous incident caused me to have an indelible dread of graves, cemeteries, and dead people for years.
    Once my oldest brother was laid to rest our family settled in. We began to live a life of peace, and happiness with Grandmom Faya.  Two things we never had in our home when Mama was there. Miss Miriam and Grandmom Faya became friends again. Miss Miriam would come over, and visit with us almost on a daily basis.  She, and my grandmother would sit, and talk for hours as if they were making up for lost time.
    Their loving friendship was rekindled when Andrew, Jr. died. Grandmom Faya telephoned Miss Miriam to tell her about my brother's death, and how she suspected Mama. One word lead to another, and soon they were on the telephone for two hours.  Finally, I heard my grandmother ask her to come over so they could talk face to face.  Within the hour Miss Miriam was there.
    When she walked up to the front door my grandmother threw the door wide open.  She hugged, and kissed Miss Miriam as if they hadn't seen each other in years.  Each one of them had tears in their eyes, and were crying all over one another.  Emma and I were overjoyed because our wish came true.  Miss Miriam didn't go back home. Instead she stayed with us until well after Andrew, Jr. was buried.
    During the months that followed my brother's death our home was filled with something else that had never been there before....laughter.  It seemed strange at first.  We had been so unhappy for so many years because of Mama's cruelty.  My grandmother made a vow things in our home would change, and they certainly did.
    Everything we were denied that other children took advantage of was ours. We had birthday parties, went to the amusement parks, carnivals, and to the zoo.  Things we never dreamed of doing with Mama we were doing on a regular basis with Grandmom Faya and Miss Miriam. All of us were completely happy with our new lives.
   Miss Miriam became like a second grandmother to us.  We were happy to see her whenever she came to visit. I heard Grandmom Faya trying to talk her into moving in with us. Yet, she told my grandmother she didn't want to leave her home. For our part Emma and I wished she would move in with us.  We didn't know that wish would come true, too.
    Miss Miriam was so sweet, and kind to us. She was a beautiful woman, too, just like my grandmother was.  My siblings and I could see the uncanny resemblance between the two women. She and Grandmom Faya always laughed about something during their many conversations. They looked so much happier, too, now that they were friends again. It was easy to see they truly loved each other. Still, it was rather odd they looked so much alike, Emma and I thought. 
   "They could easily pass for sisters.  Couldn't they, Ty?"  Emma asked me one day.  "They sure could," I replied.  Secretly wondering if she   was   one of my grandmother's sisters.

                                                      "CHAPTER   FIVE"


     As the years passed Emma and I grew into beautiful, young women.  And Nicholas and Malin became very handsome, young men.  It was then Nicholas started staying away from home more, and more.  He changed a lot after Andrew, Jr. died.  We knew he missed our oldest brother more than the rest of us did because they were so close.  The day finally came when he left home altogether.  Nobody in our family was surprised when he left to go to the store, and never came back....not even Grandmom Faya.
    Naturally, she initiated an all-out search for my brother after he was gone for a week.  Sheriff Bicket, his Deputies, and many people from town joined in the search for him, and that surprised us.  The people in Maron rarely got involved in one another's problems.  My grandmother put up posters bearing Nicholas's picture all over town, and in surrounding Counties.  But it didn't do any good.  He was gone.  Although everyone else gave up hope of ever finding my brother Grandmom Faya never gave up hope.
   Then years later out of the blue we received a letter from him.  He had enlisted in the Air Force, and was stationed in Paris, France.  My grandmother was overjoyed to hear from him as were the rest of us. When she opened the letter that day she shrieked with joy.  For nine years she worried about him not knowing if he was dead or alive.  Her mind imagined all kinds of terrible things that might have happened to him.  But that day at last she knew he was alright, and her mind could rest.
  In his letter Nicholas told us he was going to marry a girl he met in Paris. He didn't say anything in the letter about coming home.  Also, he didn't mention where he had been all of those years before he enlisted in the Air Force. It was wonderful to know he was alive.
    Malin was going to be a Senior in high school.  He earned a basketball scholarship for college. And chose a school nearly five hundred miles away.  It didn't seem far away to him, but it did to me. He was seventeen years old.  I would soon be fifteen years old, and Emma had just turned nineteen years old.
   As young as Emma was she was considering marrying some guy who lived in town named, Arties Weston.  She didn't know it.  But I heard rumors he was married. Besides, I thought he was too old for my sister.  Artie Weston was thirty four years old, and very nice looking.  But he was much too jealous.  I found out most older guys who had young girlfriends were overly jealous. To me that made them dangerous.  I thought,  "He's   got  a  lot  of  nerve,  and  he's  married!"   Artie wasn't any different from any other guy in my opinion.  They always wanted their cake, and eat it, too.
    He would freak out if he telephoned our house, and Emma wasn't there.  He wanted to know where she was every minute of the day.  I couldn't understand why she put up with him.  She thought it was funny how he would act like a complete idiot over her.  But I saw nothing humorous in his actions.  I didn't trust him at all.
   Grandmom Faya didn't know how old Artie Weston was.  Or how he acted like a sophomoric imbecile when he couldn't put his hands on Emma's whereabouts.  For her he put on a good disguise, and acted like a perfect, mannerable gentleman.  However, my grandmother wasn't fooled by his duplicity, and she didn't like him.  She said, "There's just something about that guy I don't like."
   She was right because I could sense it, too.  There was just something about Artie that didn't sit well with us.  Grandmom Faya knew his family.  She thought of them as uncouth characters right up to, and including his grandmother, Sheila Weston, she told me.   "Where  have   I  heard   that   name  before?"   I thought suddenly.
    I recalled what Grandmom Faya told me years before when I was a little girl.  Sheila Weston was the only outsider who was ever allowed into their home when they were young.  She was friendly with, Marie, my grandmother's malicious, older sister.
    It didn't matter what anybody said to my sister about Artie.  She was so restive, and thick-headed she wouldn't listen. Emma was head-strong, and believed she knew everything. My grandmother was filled with ennui as she kept trying to inculcate warnings to Emma about Artie. She was so weary of it.  She told me it was sometimes best to let hard-headed people like my sister find out things the hard way. I agreed with her.  "For some people, Tyla," she told me, "the hard way is the best way to learn."
    In the year I was going to turn fifteen years old my grandmother was sixty two years old. Yet, she looked like a woman of fifty years old.  She seemed to get renewed strength, and vigor after Mama was gone.  She and Miss Miriam would sit outside on the front porch when the weather was nice, and gossip for hours.  When the weather outside wasn't so nice they would sit in the kitchen, and gossip.
   I will never forget the day I overheard Grandmom Faya talking about moving back into her old, family house.  The house where she lived many years ago with her nefarious grandmother, Ole Lucy. Miss Miriam objected bitterly, and didn't want to go with us when  my grandmother asked her to.  I could tell from the way she reacted Miss Miriam knew about the house, too.  I thought I detected a touch of fearfulness in her voice when she told Grandmom Faya ingenuously she wouldn't go.
  As close as the two women were Miss Miriam was adamant about not going to live in that house, and I understood perfectly.  After all of the bad things my grandmother told me about the place I didn't think moving back there was a good idea.  Grandmom Faya hadn't said anything to the rest of the family about moving. So I said nothing to my sister and brother about it.  Besides, I didn't want to two women to know I had been eavesdropping on their conversation.  It wasn't the only thing I overheard them talking about that day.
   I heard my grandmother telling Miss Miriam how she believed someone named, Marie, had left the house by then.  And we could live there in peace, and safety.  After I heard that as if they knew I was listening they began to whisper.  I hated that.  Because I couldn't hear anything else they were saying.  I started thinking.
   "I  wonder  if  this  Marie  person  is  Grandmom  Faya's  evil  sister?"   I thought.   "No!  She  couldn't  be  because  she  told  me  Marie  was  dead."   I began to recall the many stories my grandmother told me about her older sister.  I shivered in horror unconsciously.  "No,"  I thought. "It   must  be  some  other  women  named,  Marie."    However, I would find out it was the same person I overheard them talking about that day.  I didn't know it then.  But after all my grandmother told me about her sister, Marie, she softened how truly virulent she was.
    One day after school I was walking home from the bus stop.  As usual I was distrait.  My mind was occupied with all kinds of thoughts.  Grandmom Faya and Emma called me  'The  Thinker' like the statue.  I was always day-dreaming about one thing or another often a million miles away.
   That particular day was no different.  My thoughts were sifting through all of the reasons why I didn't have a boyfriend.  I thought there might have been something wrong with me.  A lot of the boys at school liked me.  But none of them interested me, and I made that known to them.  Furthermore, Grandmom Faya told me just as she told Emma I wouldn't be able to go out on a date with a guy until I turned sixteen years old.
   Even Emma said to me, "Something must be wrong with you, Ty."  It was one night while we were in our bedroom talking.  "Why don't you like the boys?" she asked me. "You never go out anywhere, or have any friends.  You're weird!"  "I do have friends," I replied innocuously.  Yet, a little miffed she was postulating something about me she really didn't know.
    "Oh yeah?" she retorted. "Who?  Crazy Karen?"  Then she chuckled ambiguously.  "She's the only friend I've ever seen you with.....silly Karen Bullock.  And that's because she is just as strange as you are."  I didn't say anything.  Deep down inside I knew Emma was right.  Karen was my only friend outside of the family.
    "You need to branch out more," continued Emma with her know-it-all riposte.  "As pretty as you are the guys should be knocking our door down to get to you, girl.  Be like your big sister."  She said that with a smirk  on her lips that made me angry.  "What?" I snapped at her. "Mess around with married men?"  She stared at me in shock.  As soon as I said those words I was sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt my sister. "Oh!  I'm sorry, Emma," I said sheepishly.  "But I did hear Artie is married."  Her whole countenance changed quickly.  "That lousy son of a bitch!" she snarled angrily. "Thanks for telling me, Sis.  How long have you known about this, Ty?"
    "It's only a rumor, Emma," I said. "You should talk to him about it before you go off the deep end."  She was quiet as she pondered over what I told her. "Okay," she said finally. "You're right, Ty. I'll ask him about it before I dump his ass like a hot potato."
   She reached for the telephone, and dialed the number to Artie's mother, Beverly.  She asked to speak to him.  Beverly told her Artie wasn't there. But she would have him return her call as soon as possible.  Emma hung up the telephone.
   "Now that I think about it," she told me, "every time I call there he's not there. But he always calls me back five or ten minutes later."  "That ought to tell you something right there, Emma," I told her. "She probably calls him wherever he lives, and tells him you called for him."
    "You can't be too careful about some of these men, Ty," she replied with judiciousness. I could tell she was really angry at Artie.  "Don't ever trust them," she continued to tell me. "Because if you're not with them you can't trust them."  She laid across her bed, and became reticent. It was obviouis she was thinking about all of the other little hints Artie had given her, which she inadvertently missed.  Hints she never paid any attention to that had "MARRIED" written all over them.  I knew she was wondering how she could be so stupid.
   I could've told her it was because she was willful, stubborn, and sometimes filled with her own hubris.  She was a know-it-all, and the rest of us were dummies.  Grandmom Faya told her she would get hurt one day.  If she didn't stop   knowing   everything, and listened to somebody else for once.
    I decided to leave her alone with her thoughts.  I told her I would talk to her later on, and left the bedroom.  I went into Grandmom Faya's bedroom, and sat down on her bed staring out of the window.  I thought about Karen. Maybe I did like her because we were a lot alike. She was a year older than I was, and also very pretty. She kept her hair dyed dark auburn.  I gathered it was out of jealousy since my hair was naturally dark-red.  She had light-brown eyes, and smooth, brown skin. Karen was tall, and slender like a model, and she dressed sharply, too.  Although she was old enough to date I never saw her with a boy ever since we were friends.
    Karen came from a strange, secretive family like I did.  They were fairly copious financially she told me.  The Bullocks were very well liked by the people in town.  Mrs. Bullock's gentry lived in Maron for generations. But Mr. Bullock, Karen's father, came from a big city in the East.  He was in town on business when he met Karen's mother.  They fell in love, and got married after only a month. Karen and I thought that was kind of quick to jump up, and marry somebody.  But she told me her mother believed she was pregnant.  They got married to save themselves from a lot of slander, and gossip.  Karen was an only child.
    Good looks were not the only thing Karen had going for her. She was an ingenuous person, and extremely precocious.....almost a genius.  She did well in school, and was at the top of her class. Yet, when it came to boys she shunned them.  "They only want one thing, Ty," she told me once. "After that they will leave you alone."  With no social activity in her life all she did was go to school, or to my house, and help her mother around their house.
    Jacqueline Bullock, Karen's mother, was very nice as well as genteel.  She reminded me of one of those Southern belles you see in movies like "Gone With The Wind".  She was very lady-like as well as dainty, and delicate in her mannerisms.  I never heard her raise her voice or say a cuss word as long as I knew her.  As far as fashion goes I could tell she was somewhat of an epicure.
   Otto Bullock, Karen's father, was a nice man. He wasn't at home often so Karen, and her mother spent a lot of time alone or rather with one another. There were rumors around Maron he was having an affair with a woman named, Olivia Laws, who lived in Tolstoy.  The rumor said Olivia was married as well.
   "He must have heard the rumors, too," Karen told me one day speaking about her father. "How could he not have heard them?"  Yet, he still stayed away from home a lot as if he didn't care about any rumors, or about how much he was hurting his family.  He was an Executive Vice President of the Engineering company he worked for in Tolstoy.
   Tolstoy was where many people who lived in Maron went to look for work.  It wasn't that far away. It was very industrial, and five times the size of Maron.  Karen told me her mother caught her father, and Olivia together on more than one occasion.  However, she didn't want a divorce because she still loved him.  She believed they would be able to work things out.  And told Karen her father was just going through a phase that would pass.  After eight years it hadn't passed yet.
    Karen's family lived in a big house similar to the one my family, and I would be moving into, according to what I heard my grandmother telling Miss Miriam.  I hadn't seen the house yet. But I knew we would be moving into it soon.  I got up enough nerve to ask Grandmom Faya where the house was.  As she described its' location to my horror I realized it was the same house down by the lake that scared Malin and I when we were children.
   "That old place?!"  I asked her with surprise, and fear echoing in my voice. "Yes, honey," she replied, "that's the one. Why?  Is something wrong?"  "No," I lied to her.  I was terrified of that house.  The chill, and the terror that swept over me that day long ago when my brother, and I opened the front door, and went inside would never be forgotten.  To find out it was the same spooky house my grandmother told me those scary stories about was frightening.
  In spite of my fear I wanted to see the house again.  I left my house one day, and headed down to the lake to look at it.  I promised myself first I would only view it from a distance.  I wasn't about to go near the place.
   When I arrived at the lake area to see the house I was amazed at what I saw.  There were contractors, and workmen all over the place.  And they were making it into a beautiful house. The grounds had been mowed, and manicured, and new shrubs and flowers were planted.  The flowers 
were all carnations which was my grandmother's favorite flower.  There were pink, white, red, and yellow ones that looked beautiful around the periphery.
  The long, marble walk-way leading up to the front door of the house was sparkling.  The house sat far back from the lake.  It had to be at least a half a block long.  The workmen, and contractors were busy on both the inside as well as the outside of the house.  To look at it, it was hard to believe all of the horrible things Grandmom Faya told me occurred in there.  When the workmen were done it would truly be a beautiful home.....at least on the outside.
    "Grandmom  Faya  certainly  is  full  of  surprises,"  I thought as I turned around, and started to walk back home.  She had many more surprises for my sister, my brothers, and I.  We had no idea they were coming.  Needless to say when they did we were not prepared for them.  I thought there was no one on the face of the earth who could keep secrets like Faya Davidson.

NOTE  FROM  THE  AUTHOR:   LET  ME  KNOW  HOW  YOU LIKE  READING  "IN THE LIGHT OF  DARKNESS"     THERE  ARE   MORE  CHAPTERS  TO  FOLLOW  IN  SECESSION!!!   
 

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