The Seer by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 30

It was Saturday morning, and Tom rose early with the intention of making a more detailed examination of the recording made the previous night. However, his children had other plans. Kara had an appointment to attend a one-day fencing camp at Portland Fencing Center, and Zachary, insisting that he not be left out also attended. Although the clashing of steel prompted his interest, he was far too young to pick up a weapon. By the time they left, Kara had lost interest in the sport, having the impression that there were far more boys involved than girls. Tom was greatly relieved, having become aware of the cost of both classes and equipment. Besides, at this point, Tom and Linda believed that school was far more important than wielding a foil.

After returning home, Kara and Zachary were allowed to play outside. The day was unusually warm, and the sky a cloudless blue. Naturally, having seen the grace and speed of fencing, Zachary immediately found a long stick, and began mimicking the parries and lunges of the sport that brought his boyish adventurousness to its peak. Of course, Kara strongly complained when he came charging toward her while flinging the stick from side to side, and it wasn't long before Linda relieved him of it, satisfying Kara’s desire that the irritation of her brother's behavior stop as soon as possible. Meanwhile, Tom found a quiet place where he could listen to the recording he had made during the previous night. Sitting alone, he plugged a set of earbuds into his phone and turned up the volume as much as he could stand. The questions he recorded passed loudly in his ears, but Tom continued to listen, he heard a somewhat muffled voice.

“They're sleeping.”

He heard it clearly enough, but listened several more times to be certain he wasn't imagining it. It was definitely a voice, and Tom quickly recognized it as belonging to his mother. The rest of the recording bore the same voice, however, the words were too quiet and muffled for any sense to be made from them. Now, with what Tom had heard, he was sure that Eleanor had returned from the dead to look after Kara and Zachary.

The day passed uneventfully. Zachary had been scolded several more times for continuing to whip long sticks at his sister. He'd finally calmed down after a lengthy time out in the living room. After dinner, both Zachary and Kara began to slow down, and at eight o' clock, drifted off to sleep. Tom and Linda picked them up and carried them to their rooms. But for some reason, it took Tom a bit longer to tuck Zachary in. Linda stopped near the doorway to see if he needed any help.

“Hey,” she said.

She spoke in a whisper to avoid waking the children.

“Everything okay?”

Tom couldn't help being startled, and told her he would be down as soon as he was done. By the time he left Zachary's room, Linda was already downstairs in the living room, watching the local news.

Turning off the light, Tom quietly walked back into the hallway and toward the stairway, but was stopped by a faint light glowing from beneath the door of what had been Eleanor's room. He thought it might be the moon, shining in through a window. However, as he stood studying it, Tom noticed a shadow pass between the light and the door. After everything his family was experiencing, the voice of caution rang out a warning, but there was also the drive of curiosity, the maddening desire to know more.

Since Eleanor's death, Tom kept the room locked, leaving it as it had been since discovering her lifeless body. On the other hand, this could be an opportunity he might never get again, and going downstairs, Tom retrieved the key from the top of the kitchen door frame. He kept it hidden in plain sight, knowing that no one would ever look there. Walking back up the stairs prompted Linda's concern and curiosity, and as he passed her, she asked if there was a problem.

“Things okay, hon?”

Tom paused in the middle of the stairs.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied. “I'm just gonna go check on the kids one more time.”

Linda was growing tired and while Tom continued up the stairs, Linda turned back to the local news as her eyelids became heavy and fatigued.

With the darkness of the upstairs, the eerie light from the now abandoned bedroom glowed even brighter, and standing in front of the door, Tom silently pushed the key into the its lock. Opening the door only a few inches, he peered around its edge. He felt the blood leave his head as he discovered Eleanor sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Tom,” she said. “Come on in.”

She laid a hand flat on the bed, as though holding it in reserve for him. Up until now, whenever Tom had seen her, she appeared as a light translucent shape, vague, but recognizable. Even before walking into the room, he saw her as he would anyone else. Solid. Real.

“Mom?” he said. “Is it really you?” She smiled warmly and reassured him that she was the person she appeared to be.

“Of course,” she answered. “Who else would I be? Now, come and sit with me.”

Tom slowly walked across the room, and sat cautiously on the edge of the bed. She could see both the fear and curiosity on his face, and with a gentle voice, acknowledged what she knew he was thinking.

“You want to know, don't you? To be dead...” Tom's expression froze as he continued, with great difficulty, to process this experience.

“It's very peaceful,” she continued. “As soon as I left, I was a completely different person.” Tom was still stunned, but turned back to the open door, concerned that Linda might return.

“Don't worry,” Eleanor said.

She brought up a hand, and motioning toward the door, caused it to slowly close.

“Linda's still sleeping.”

Seeing Tom's shocked expression, she spoke to him with a reassuring tone.

“Tom, there's no reason to be afraid. I'm still your mom. Things are just different, that's all.” Tom was still struggling for words, and trying, with great difficulty, to keep his thoughts intact.

“So, why are you here? I thought you'd be in...” Eleanor interrupted, responding with a bit of laughter in her voice.

“In heaven? Tom, you still believe those things? Heaven is wherever you are when you get there. It's whatever you did that gave you the most joy. There's no pearly gates or angels. Well for me, there are two. That's why I'm here. Do you understand?” Tom was amazed that he understood any part of her answer, but what he understood most clearly was the reason for her return.

“And Tom,” she continued. “Don't worry, I'm not going to go into your bedroom, okay?”

Suddenly, she looked off toward the closed door as her expression changed to concern, as Tom's eyes followed her gaze.

“What is it?” he whispered.

Zachary was deeply asleep, but around a sleeping child, one always sees the need to whisper.

“It's Linda,” Eleanor replied. “She's coming up the stairs. Tom, she could handle this.” Tom realized she was leaving, and hurried in his attempt to continued their conversation.

“Wait,” he said. “You can't go yet. I still have questions. Can't you just keep her in the living for a while more?”

She smiled gently, knowing that as long as he was living an earthly life, he would never understand how different things are for the deceased, the freedom and peace. Eleanor motioned toward the door again, and as Tom watched it open, her image lightened as she faded away. The eerie glow that had filled the room quickly dimmed and vanished, leaving Tom sitting alone on the edge of the bed.

As he looked back to where Eleanor had been sitting, he was startled by Linda's voice.

“Tom,” she said. “what are you doing in here?” Linda was more than a bit surprised to see him sitting amongst the chaos left behind from the removal of her body. Legally, some effort had to be made by the paramedics to resuscitate her, but hope was quickly lost when it was discovered that the lowest parts of her body had become discolored. Their attempt to bring Eleanor back left the room littered with wrappings once containing various medical items. Tom would clean the room a few days later, once he was able to cope with the discovery of his mother’s body.

“Are you okay?”

Tom hesitated with his answer, not wanting to tell her that he had just had a conversation with his dead mother. Although Linda had also seen her wafting through Zachary's room, and certainly would have believed Tom's account, he was too tired to describe the experience.

“Um...I don't know,” he replied. “I guess I thought it was time to open up the room. Ya' know, just to put it behind me.”

Linda crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame.

“Ya' know, it's about time,” she said. “But, don't you think it's a late for this?”

They were tired from the day's activities, as well as the lateness of the evening. Linda walked into the room, and taking Tom's hand, pulled him to his feet.

“C'mon,” she began. “Time for bed.” Leaving the room, Tom closed the door behind him. He saw no reason to keep it locked any longer, and later, would clean and reorganize it. He would see it as a form of therapy, a catharsis he would use in mending himself of the pain of his mother's loss that had eclipsed his soul for the last few months.

He thought it was too late to talk about what had really happened in the previously locked room, but Linda, knowing her husband as well as she did, knew that he had not gone into Eleanor's room simply for closure. Something had drawn him there, and although he would later describe his experience, the need for answers was too great, and he would continue with his recordings of the second floor.

“So,” Linda began. “Did you see her?”

“Oh, yeah, we had a nice little talk,” he replied. Although Tom answered in a joking manner, his response was anything but comedic, and he would go into more detail in the morning.