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A Cry in the Shadows - First chapters

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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="Chapter1">Chapter 1</a></div>
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<i>Rome, Italy, December
13th</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><i>I</i></b></span><i> remained still, trying to
distance myself from the nauseating smell of the trash, looking at the body
lying on top of the pile of garbage like a tattered bundle of clothing. </i></div>
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<i>I didn’t mind
the frosty wind cutting my face and my hands; neither did I realize I had
forgotten my coat in the car.</i></div>
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<i>How could
murdering be that easy? I couldn’t avoid asking myself with a feeling of
omnipotence that should have been clashing with my sense of guilt.</i></div>
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<i>I couldn’t
imagine myself doing such a heinous act, not even in my worst nightmares.</i></div>
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<i>And yet... </i></div>
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<i>Alexandra was
beautiful, and she knew she was. I could expect nothing but trouble from a
woman like that. </i></div>
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<i>Just a blurry
shade of surprise had crossed her eyes when she noticed I was waiting for her
by the garages. But she couldn’t rally anything but strong words to face my
ingenuous attempt to bring clearness to our lives.</i></div>
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<i>In the face
of such arrogance, my anger had grown like an ocean wave, and my only thought
had been to shut her up. And so I hit her, and then again—till she had fallen
lifeless to the ground. </i></div>
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<i>I deeply
breathed in and out in the attempt to quit gasping. Managing to take
Alexandra’s body off the car had been harder than I imagined. But I did it.</i></div>
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<i>I turned, to
make sure nobody was around. Even in the dark, the sleazy scenery of the
suburbs appeared depressing. But the background was not something I wanted to
focus on. </i></div>
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<i>I gazed one
last time at the body lying partially visible beneath the mound of trash and
thought that, however hard it might be to do, maybe one day I would forget
about that mess. The truth is it had just been a “terrible accident.”</i></div>
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<i>The
irreparable would not have taken place, if only Alexandra had not shown so much
scorn.</i></div>
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<i>What was
really important now was to protect that secret. No matter what!</i></div>
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<i>Then I felt
numerous drops of sweat sliding down my temples and my neck. Maybe because of
that thought. Or maybe because of the anger that, while cooling down, was
making room for a new fear about my future.</i></div>
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<i>On my way
back, I turned the car’s heater on to dry my sweaty shirt. I tried to think
about something else and switched the radio on to listen to some good songs.</i></div>
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<i>I needed to
relax. Yes, I had to relax and erase from my mind what had occurred in the last
hour. So that no one could read in my eyes that I had just killed someone.</i></div>
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="Chapter2">Chapter 2</a></div>
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<i>Martha's
Vineyard</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>S</b></span>parkling snowflakes floated in the air
like puffy cotton balls. Nora watched them multiplying across the windows and,
as always happened to her during a snowfall, she immediately felt a joyful
sensation.</div>
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<i>Few things
are better than a white Christmas</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, she
thought while looking out the window. The lights in the gardens; the colorful
decorations on the trees; the fireplaces sending smoke up the chimneys; and all
that snow covering the streets, the woods, and the boats at the harbor.</span></div>
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But she was not
going to spend the coming festivities in Martha’s Vineyard, Nora reminded
herself. And as far as she knew, it didn’t snow that often in Rome.</div>
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<i>Rome...
Italy...</i></div>
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<i>Such a long
time had passed since she’d seen those landscapes she loved, or had a pizza in
a “trattoria” in Trastevere, or simply chilled on the steps of Piazza di
Spagna.</i></div>
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Her only regret
was that she wouldn’t get to spend Christmas with her little nephews. Mike
Repetti, her daughter Meg’s new fiancé, had family in Vermont, and Meg had
decided to go along with him only after making sure that her mother was not
going to spend her festivities on her own. </div>
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But she was glad
to go back to Rome and spend some time with Susan. The last time she visited,
she wasn’t really in the mood for a tour of the city. Susan had then been
recovering at the hospital after a terrible car accident in which she had lost
her sight. And those were not easy days.</div>
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<i>If only Joe
had known how tough her niece’s life had been that last year...</i></div>
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<i>But maybe he
had known</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, Nora thought just a moment
later.</span></div>
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In the last
months, the boundaries between what was real and what wasn’t had blurred in her
thoughts. And possible and impossible seemed to have faded one into the other.</div>
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The snow in
front of her was falling thicker, and her eyes were captured by the beauty. The
flakes fluctuated lightly like particles of an intricate lace, when suddenly
Susan’s crying face materialized in front of her eyes. </div>
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The image was so
realistic, it made Nora step back in surprise.</div>
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The floor, too,
started to waver so intensely under her feet that she had to lean on the dresser
in order not to fall on the floor.</div>
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<i>Susan...</i></div>
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Nora took a deep
breath, then closed her eyes for few seconds. When she opened them, she felt as
if she had regained a bit of stability in her legs.</div>
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She hadn’t eaten
much that morning, and maybe that feeling was just a consequence of low blood
sugar, she thought. Maybe it was just a bout of dizziness. The thought of Susan
had made her imagine seeing her in the midst of that snow lace.</div>
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<i>But her image
seemed so real...</i></div>
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A moment later,
Nora went back in front of the window to erase the uneasiness she was still
feeling. The snow was falling even more intensely, and by now it was enveloping
the landscape like a soft blanket.</div>
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She stood still
while observing, but this time saw nothing but snow.</div>
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“Do you think
the price is negotiable, Mrs. Cooper?”</div>
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Ernie Jackson’s
voice made her wince. Nora turned toward the client she had taken to visit
Vineyard Haven’s cottage and tried to hide her confusion.</div>
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Mr. Jackson had
a scrawny face and the aloof look of someone who carried pain in his heart. He
was a quiet man, and Nora realized she still did not understand if he was
interested in the old cottage that just few weeks earlier her agency had been
put in charge to sell. </div>
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<i>But that last
question regarding the price just opened her up to a new perspective...</i></div>
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“After so many
years doing this job, let me tell you, Mr. Jackson, that there are no
unnegotiable prices. There just are sellers who don’t want to sell, or buyers
who are not interested enough to buy.”</div>
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As if he didn’t
hear her, Ernie Jackson remained silent, staring at the ocean through the
picture glass window.</div>
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“My wife would
have loved this house.”</div>
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Nora immediately
recognized the man’s silence, that timid smile, and that invisible wall that
separated him from the rest of the world. He was a “survivor” too. Like herself
and many others like her, he lived carrying the weight of having lost forever
the person he had most loved in the whole world.</div>
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It was clear
from the way Mr. Jackson had said those words that Mrs. Jackson was not part of
the world of the living anymore.</div>
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<i>You can make
it, Mr. Jackson</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, she would have liked to
tell him. </span><i>There are many out there who’ve gone through this and made
it. I have, myself. Even if my life is not the same as it used to be.</i></div>
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“I am very sorry
about your wife,” she said with sincerity. “For how absurd and unjust it may
now seem, it will get better—you’ll see.”</div>
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“Take all the
time you need,” she then added while handing him her business card. “Here is my
contact information—don’t hesitate to call me.”</div>
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The man nodded
and, unexpectedly, before saying good-bye, left her with a purchase proposal
Nora considered more than fair.</div>
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<i>How had it
happened, then, that suddenly the enchantment and joyfulness of the imminent
Christmas season vanished?</i></div>
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Nora hurried to
close the windows and realized it was time for her to go. The snow was
copiously falling from the sky, soon enough Martha’s Vineyard’s roads would be
inaccessible and she did not intend to get stuck in the city.</div>
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Maybe because of
seeing Susan’s face through the snow, or because of the anxiety she suddenly
felt, a cold sweat was now pearling on her forehead, and her heartbeats were
amplified in her chest.</div>
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She hadn’t felt
like this since many months before.</div>
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<i>Since when...</i></div>
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She only had the
living room windows left to close. Then she could head out, and maybe the crisp
air would help her feel better.</div>
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She had
experienced panic attacks before. But that was when Joe had died and someone
was trying to take her Lake Tashmoo’s house from her.</div>
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Nora barely
closed her eyes and took a deep breath the way her yoga teacher had taught her.
Once, twice, and once again.</div>
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Then her
heartbeat slowly stabilized, and her breath became less wheezy.</div>
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<i>It may have
been the sadness I felt in that man</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, she
thought. The fresh pain from his wife’s loss had reminded her of her own.</span></div>
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<i>Or maybe it
had been Susan’s crying face that she thought she had seen in the snowfall.</i></div>
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She took the
house keys from the kitchen table, where she had left them, and tried to get
rid of that feeling.</div>
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She had done so
much in the last months to get back in control of her life. And what if she was
starting to have visions again?</div>
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No. She didn’t
know what had just happened, but she was sure it would not recur. She was not
going to see someone crying in the midst of the snowfall or in any other place
again. She was not going to have her dead husband write her messages with the
Scrabble letters again the way it had happened just a year before.</div>
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She had accepted
the way Joe managed to communicate with her, and also that he had suddenly stopped.</div>
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She had no
rational answers for that, but surely she didn’t intend to talk about it with
anyone, but...</div>
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<i>But did she
feel ready to reopen that door to the beyond, with the risk of finding some
restless soul wanting to get in touch with her again, just to solve problems
left unresolved on earth?</i></div>
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Maybe not.
Because that “gift”—which was how her friend Debbie called it—sometimes made
her feel like she had gone nuts.</div>
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She would have
to call Judith to tell her to close the agency in advance that night and go
back home. And that’s what she herself was going to do, as well as avoid
getting stuck in the snow.</div>
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Nora lingered
for just a moment in front of the cottage’s door before heading out into the
cold. Because as much as she desired to ignore it, she knew too well the power
of signs and dreams not to understand that soon something else was going to
happen.</div>
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Published on April 16, 2013 05:49

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