The Dead Never Die Read online

  "Shit."

  "What's wrong."

  Mary stayed quiet, trying to think.

  "Just talk to me. Mary."

  "Nothing. I was just polishing my nails and I spilled the acetone. That's all."

  Again, Mary glanced back at the coffee table to look at the bills. She figured she and the boy had about three more months before the landlord could start the eviction process. In the meantime, she had sometime to figure something out to get her and her son out of this situation.

  "Just talk to me. Be real. That's all."

  As Mary looked at some of her framed pictures through the reflection of the window, the blue light struck her face. The whole time, she was thinking of a way to get her sister off the phone.

  "How many times do I have to tell you, sis. I'm good. We're good. I swear. There is nothing to worry about. We're doing well."

  Her son laid with his stomach against the couch, staring into a glowing tablet. He was playing a game when a newscast popped up on his screen, another person in the neighborhood had gone missing.

  "What good is talking about it going to do. Don't worry about us. We'll be fine." I said I'll be fine."

  "But."

  "I know it's been about one year. I know that more than anyone. Believe me, I know."

  "I keep worrying for you. That's all. I can't stop thinking about you, until I know that you are all right.

  Mary listened to as much as she could of Amy's incessant worrying. She had no choice but to take matters into her own hands.

  "I have to go." She told Amy. "The boy has to eat and the pizzas getting cold."

  "But..."

  "We're fine Amy. Bye."

  Mary hung up the phone and threw it on the couch by her son's feet.

  The whole day, she has been feeling off. Her sister was right. There was something wrong with her. But, she couldn't admit it because it would make the strange feeling inside her, somehow more real.

  "Mom."

  Mary looked at her son, with a blank expression on her face, not knowing what to say to him.

  "Mom?"

  She looked up at him. "Yes baby."

  "Is it true. Are you going to go out for a banana split, tomorrow?"

  The boy's eyes lit up and her face grew dim. But, her eyes did not float away from his.

  "Yes," she said.

  Nineteen

  Don't Leave Me

  The boy stood in the middle of the drive way, as his mother continued to walk down the road into the cemetery. He couldn't believe that she was continuing on without him.

  "Don't you love me?"

  A couple hundred yards further, the road that she walked upon would become nothing more than dirt.

  In that dirt, she would leave her footprints behind, until she disappeared all together.

  The boy stood there in shock.

  He could not believe what she did. It was the first time he realized how mad she really was. The boy thought about how it looked like she was talking to someone else. There was some one else that the boy could not see. For the first time, the boy asked the question that hung around his neck like a heavy padlock.

  "Is it Joe. Is it him that you are speaking to?"

  The boy wondered why his mother would try to bring back the memory of a man who treated them so badly.

  "Why would you try to bring him back, after all that we've been through."

  It was a year since Joe died, exactly one year, when the trees became brittle. The ground was prepared for a cold death to set in.

  Suddenly, the boy's head swung up. For a moment, he thought he saw something by a row of tombstones up ahead. However, he missed whatever it was. It escaped out of the corner of his eye.

  His neck began to hurt less and his chest felt tight. He looked down the road where he saw the head of his mother go around the curve of the road.

  He took a quick step in her direction. Then, something else caught his eye.

  He stopped and looked at a shadow swaying by the trees, a shadow in a black hood. The presence of the dark figure made the boy's stomach hurt.

  For a moment, he felt alone. His mother was gone.

  Then, the hooded figure changed positions. The shadow was no longer standing among a field of tombstones, thirty yards away. He was farther. His shadow was set against the dying sun.

  Then another woman entered our story.

  The hood figure looked down the road where Mary disappeared.

  It was a woman in a black dress, she looked almost like his mother. She was thin and tall. The dark figure changed positions again. It was know standing behind a tree, looking at the woman emerging from the fog.

  The black woman was in a daze, with mascara running down her cheeks. She came down the same road that his mother took. She had dark brown curly hair.

  She approached the boy and the boy smiled and hoped that she would talk to him and help him.

  His eyes met hers and she did not smile back at him. The woman looked nervous, worried. She was very thin and her cheeks were hollow. She brought her thin bony finger to the boy's lips and told the boy to be quiet. She placed her hand on his shoulder.

  "I know. I know that he's looking at me, right now. I know it. But where?"

  For a moment, they stayed quiet. And she looked at the boy eyes to see in what direction his eyes would dart to.

  Quickly, the woman swung her head to look at the dark figure behind the tree. But, it was gone the moment she turned around. He was probably looking at them from another place, stalking them both with a pair eyes nestled deep within it's black hood.

  She turned around and they remained quiet. The boy and the woman looked at each other again. The boy noticed that she was crying because black massacre ran down her cheeks. They were as pale as milk. Her dress was filthy, as if she were living inside a grave.

  Then, she asked the boy a question.

  "Why won't he see me? He brought me here for a reason, right? I know he loves me. He's told me so."

  Then, she shook the boy. "Listen to me boy. Are you listening to me?"

  "Who are you talking about?"

  "Joe. Have you seen Joe!"

  The boy noticed the thing in the black hood wandering through the tombstones. It was moving away.

  Then, the woman snapped her head in that direction of where the boy was staring.

  Nothing.

  She missed him again. She turned toward the boy and she looked distraught and her forehead became knots.

  "I have to go find him. I know he's in there."

  "No. Don't go. Stay with me."

  "I have to. It's how things are now. I'm sure of it."

  "Sure of what."

  "Now, nothing dies."

  The woman broke away from the boy and headed back down the road. How uncanny? She searched for the same man that his mother searched for. That strangest coincidence.

  The boy stood in the same spot watching the woman disappear in the distance. She left the boy wondering how could anyone find anything in there.

  She left. But, he was not alone.

  The boy thought about the black hooded figure dressed. It's face was covered. The boy looked around and he no longer saw it anywhere. His eyes darted from place to place and there was no trace of it.

  Suddenly, he felt something grabbing his neck and a chill ran up his spine.

  Twenty

  Even In Death

  Mary's sister, Amy lived with her child in a garden apartment tucked underneath a brownstone in Brooklyn. It had been a long time since Amy sat with her sister and had a real conversation. Every time they talked, it had been touch and go, mostly superficial. But, Amy couldn't let this conversation slide. She had to bring up Joe and remind her of who he really was.

  It was a hard thing for Amy to do and the next few months were going to be even tougher for Mary. But, Amy couldn't let go. She needed to remind her sister of the lies that Joe told.

  The truth was that Amy never even found out about the worst of it. H
owever, the little that she did know made her angry whenever she thought about it. She couldn't believe how stupid her sister was, when it came to that lousy bastard.

  Even now, she knew the damage that Joe caused was irreversible. His memory was the one causing a rift between her sister and the boy. Every time, she thought about what Joe put her sister through, her blood boiled with anger.

  Amazing. Even in death, Joe knew how to get under people's skin.

  Just before Mary arrived, Amy was in the kitchen cleaning a spoon full of green mush that fell off baby's high chair. The baby monitor sat on the cold marble counter and she glanced at it every once and a while. In the monochrome screen, she could see her son sleeping in the next room.

  For a child that was a little over a year old, his legs were as thick as ham hocks. Every time she saw him, she just wanted to bite down on them because they were so juicy. Her boy had such a soft gorgeous face. His beauty captured her attention every time. For the life of her, Amy did not understand why Mary could not do the same with her own son.

  How many times had Amy told her to think of the boy. Just think of the boy and everything will be okay. God damn it, you stupid bitch. That's what she really wanted to say, but never did.

  It was not Mary's fault, thought Amy. It's not.

  Amy calm downed and looked at little Noah through the monochrome screen.

  Even on the fuzzy screen, the boy looked beautiful. However, she knew that there were two sides to men. She looked at her baby, wondering how something so harmless and beautiful, like a sleeping baby, can grow and into something so reckless and monstrous like Joe. She hoped that her child would never become like Joe.

  She stopped herself from thinking about it, anymore. There was more than enough time to speak about Joe when her sister arrived.

  She looked at her watch, wondering why she was late. She could not believe that she got Mary out of the house. It took about a week of coaxing, but she did not.

  Today, Amy had a present waiting for her sister. She planned to give it to Mary as they sat for coffee in the living room. It was a box wrapped in white tissue and tied together with a red bow. She placed it on the dining room table, hoping that the surprise gift would help Mary through these hard times.

  It was going to be a year, since Joe died. And she hoped that her present would help her sister keep busy through the coming month and make her think of better things, of a better life. Mary was good photographer and the present was a good idea. Amy did whatever she could to help her sister through this time, even if that meant bringing Joe back up. She had to set Mary right.

  As Amy admired how she wrapped her sister's gift, the door bell rang. She glanced at her present one more time and looked at the hallway leading to the front door. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for what was to come.

  For a final time, she glanced at her child through the video monitor to check on him. Thankfully, the little rascal was still asleep.

  Amy went to the front door and Mary was standing outside. She had not seen her sister in a couple of months. When Amy opened the door, Mary was alone, wearing a long black skirt and a long sleeved sweater.

  For a moment, Amy wondered who she left her child with. But she didn't ask. She did not want to start off on the wrong foot. Besides, Amy was sure that her nephew was okay. He was probably with one of the neighbors. From time to time, they helped Amy keep an eye on her sister. Everyone knew what was going on in Mary's house. The strange thing was that no one did anything about it. She guessed that her neighbors ended up helping her mostly out of guilt.

  Maybe.

  For a little bit of time, the two sisters stood there looking at each other. Mary hung under the frame of the door, leaning to one side. The woman in front of Amy's eyes saw was nothing like her sister. There were black rings around her sister's eyes and her frame was as thin as a twig. Amy lowered her eyes, containing herself. She wanted to gasp.

  It was Mary, though. But, everything that was lovely was gone.

  Mary was always so full of life, like a flower in spring. She was always ready to smile at anyone that glanced her way. Now, she offered no smile, which was saddest thing. It was even sadder when she tried to cover it up by giving Amy a big hug. It was deliberate and awkward.

  Amy didn't say anything and barely smiled. Then, Amy looked into her sisters's eyes and saw something missing. Mary's eyes looked vacant and heavy.

  Amy looked past it and smiled again. She was just glad that she made it. She bit her lip and tried make the best of it.

  "You're here. Thank god. Come in."

  "Hi."

  "I made some coffee."

  Mary stayed quiet and walked down the hallway, passed several photos of family pictures. For a moment, Amy felt like she were walking with a stranger down a short narrow corridor that seemed to go on forever.

  She grabbed her sister's hand with care and love and guided her to the living room. Her sister's present was on the dining table wrapped in white tissue paper and thin red ribbon. Amy didn't say anything about the gift and guided her sister past it and to the couch. Mary sat down and her sister pulled up a chair and grabbed both her sister's hands.

  "You have to tell me. What's going with you? I'm worried."

  Mary looked at her sister. Then she turned her gaze pass the kitchen and into her sister's bedroom. She stared at the the glass door that led into the garden.

  Her sister, Amy spoke.

  "You have to tell me. You have to speak to me."

  Mary sighed and stood up. "Can we go out to the garden? You mind?"

  "Sure."

  Mary headed toward the back of the house and pulled open the sliding glass door to step into the back yard. It was a small fenced-in space. There was a little trail that led to a iron green bench. Mary walked toward it and Amy followed behind. On the way there, Mary slide her hand into her purse and took out a cigarette and lit it.

  "I'm so sorry for doing this. But, I just need this okay."

  "It's fine. Just talk to me, Mary."

  Mary took another drag and ashed in the flower bed by her ankles.

  "I feel stupid for telling you this now. But, I guess it's time for you to know."

  "You can tell me. You can speak to me. I won't judge you."

  "Thank you." She took another drag.

  Amy saw her sister and she looked disheveled, in the light of day. But, she kept her lips closed.

  "Go on. Tell me."

  "I'm not being a good mother. I haven't given the boy the attention that he deserves."

  "You've been through a lot this year. I understand, how tough it is. But, you and him are going to make it. I'm sure of it."

  "Can you stop that."

  "What."

  "Just listen me."

  "Okay. Okay. Well what?"

  "Well, I haven't been feeling good the last couple of weeks." Mary stood up.

  "Well, what's wrong?"

  "I feel indifferent about everything. I feel indifferent, even about the boy."

  "Mary, what do you mean. Nothing bad has happened. Only the opposite has happened. Can't you see that. This is your time to start all over."

  "Listen. Sometimes, I just sometimes forget about him for long periods of time. Sometimes it's for the whole day."

  Amy thought of Noah sleeping in his room. For a second she thought about checking on him. But didn't.

  Mary continued, "I should have never stopped thinking about my boy. He is all that I have left. But to tell the truth, I sometimes even forget his name."

  "What?"

  "Yes. Can you believe that. The boy that I gave birth too sometimes becomes a stranger to me. I don't know why."

  Amy stood up and grabbed the smoke from Mary's hand and stubbed it out on the ground.

  "Listen to me." Amy started.

  "No. You listen me. Joe meant so much to me.

  "I don't want to hear it."

  "Listen, there is a hole in me, right now that I can't fill up. And I don't
know why. I can't just forget about him, like you want me to. He meant everything to me. Can't you understand that?"

  Mary began to cry and Amy held her as tightly as she could. There nothing else that she could say, except.

  "It's okay, sister."

  "No it's not okay. I shouldn't be forgetting my little boy's name. And I shouldn't be missing Joe, either. But, I don't know why this is happening"

  All that Amy could say was "It's okay, Mary. For real. It's okay. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

  Twenty-One

  Pale Face

  Throughout the afternoon, Amy tried to get in touch with her sister. When the phone went to voicemail, she left a several messages in a row.

  "Please Mary. What will it take for you to call me back? We need to know that you are okay. That's all. I need to know. Please, call me back. Please."

  However, every time Amy listened to the message on her sister's voicemail and there was something strange about it.

  "You've reached Mary." Then, there was a pause for a couple of seconds and then the message continued on. "Please leave a name and number. And I'll call you back."

  Amy couldn't stop thinking about it. There was something strange about that part of Mary's message, that left her wondering what it was. It sounded like a low scratching sound. For an hour straight, Amy listened to the message to make out the sound. So she kept calling her. She could not let her sister down. Mary was the only sister she had. So she kept trying.

  "Mary we're all worried about you. We want to know that you and the boy are okay. Where are you? Please call me. Please Mary."

  Her voice was nasally and high-pitched, like a child.

  After a couple of minutes, Amy called again to listen to Mary's message, to listen to the sound that played during the pause. To her, it sounded like a scratchy voice saying something. She made out the first bit of it and that was all. She dialed her sister again to make out the second half.

  Just as she was about to figure it out, a random stranger answered her sister's cell phone.