David Semmler sat on the bed, nervously waiting for someone to answer the phone. "Damn her, she knows it's me calling. Why does she always let it ring so long?"
"Hello."
"Hello, Michelle. It's me, Dave."
"I know who you are. Why are you calling?"
"Not that you care, but I just wanted to inform you that I made it here safely. Is Melanie there?"
"She's outside playing, but I'll let her know you called. Listen, Dave, if you don't have anything else to say, I'm really very busy."
"No, Michelle, I have nothing else to say. Goodbye."
Dave held the receiver over the phone and let it fall in place. It hit home with a reassuring thud. "I hope the bitch got an earful with that one", he said.
Dave was very upset that he couldn't speak to Melanie. Why was it that the people you didn't want to speak to always answered the phone? He thought of hearing his daughter's voice, the only pleasant voice he'd heard at home in some time. He pondered that voice. It was more than pleasant. It was really sort of sensual, a strange ingredient for the voice of a five-year-old. He looked ahead to the future when Melanie would be dating and wondered what kind of men she would attract with that voice.
Bored, Dave looked out of the hotel window thinking he might go for a walk. It was a hot dusty day in August and he quickly decided against it. Instead, he went down to the lobby in search of a newsstand.
Wandering over to the magazine shelves, he casually browsed until he came upon a copy of one of the weekly tabloids. He glanced around guiltily, feeling as if he were opening the centerfold of a Playboy at a Baptist convention. He was well-educated, but for some reason always preferred to read these trashy magazines. If anyone were to mention it, he would hotly deny it. Assuming a bored look, he took the paper to the counter where he felt sure the clerk smirked openly at his choice. He paid and quickly left. Back in his room he let the screaming headlines assault him.
(London) DON'T EMBALM THE DEAD!! claims well-known British metaphysicist Dr. Peter Maywood. In an exclusive interview with our reporter, Dr. Maywood stated that spirits of the dead are tied to the earth as long as their mortal remains are intact. "Anything that acts to preserve the body after death will also act to hold the individual's life force, or soul, if you will. I am certain that the body must be reduced to at least the skeletal state to enable the soul to be free."
Dr. Maywood goes on to say that he believes the soul suffers terribly while still locked to the body, but the soul is capable of some movement. He points out that ". over the past century, a vastly increased number of people have had psychic experiences. A few honest souls have come forth and shared their experiences, but most others flatly deny they ever had an experience."
"Let me explain. It was in the last one hundred years that embalming and internment in vacuum-type caskets have become widespread. In this same period, ghost sightings have risen phenomenally. Many psychics have reported disturbances in the spiritual ether due to restless souls unable to move on. Significant segments of the population have submitted themselves to psychiatric care because they feel as if something were following them, watching them."
"Some individuals report seeing fleeting images in mirrors or movement detected only in the peripheral vision. There can be only one explanation: tormented souls wandering the earth in search of release. Unable to deal with their frustrations, these souls occasionally become malign and seek to influence the living in a very negative sense. Why, these poor souls are probably responsible for the increase in crime and decadence our society is experiencing today!"
Dr. Maywood asks that any readers who have had a psychic experience, no matter how trivial you think it may be, to please contact him in care of this paper.
Dave finished the article, excited yet guilty. He wanted to believe in psychic experiences and the like but felt like a child who would swallow anything. "I'm glad Michelle isn't here now. She'd be laughing her ass off watching me read this stuff. The one time I tried to talk to her about it, she acted like I was crazy. Damn, I've got a BS, an MA, I'm a respected businessman and still I fall for this crap, hook, line and sinker. I wonder if there's something wrong with me or if maybe, just maybe, there could be something to all of this. I wonder if I'll ever have a psychic experience, but then I probably wouldn't know one if it bit me on the ass."
A smile crossed Dave's face as he thought of the words that always cleared his head, first recited by his drill sergeant over ten years ago: "Trainee, you better grab yourself by the ear and pull your head out of your ass!"
So doing, he concentrated on tomorrow's round of meetings and the notes he had to prepare. The next day was to be one boring meeting after another, with two more days of the same to follow.
His convention over, Dave headed home, an apartment complex eighty miles distant. On a good day, he could make the drive in two hours; it was not a good day. The highway he traveled, called by some "the longest parking lot in the world", was as sluggish as he'd ever seen it. Four grueling hours later, he eased the car into his parking spot. Wearily emerging from the car, Dave glanced up and saw his daughter wave to him from their balcony. The monotony of the convention and the long drive home melted away when he saw Melanie's smiling face and heard that lilting voice calling to him.
Dave bounded up the three flights of stairs and found Melanie waiting for him in the hall. "Hi, Angel", he said, as he picked Melanie up and carried her into the apartment. Michelle was on the phone sitting with her back to him; she didn't even acknowledge his entrance.
Dave centered his attention on Melanie and did his best to ignore his wife. As usual, he found that very difficult to do. Michelle turned around and found her husband glaring at her. "Well, Doris, I've got to go. My better half just arrived", she said sarcastically.
Michelle rose and confronted her husband. "Have a nice trip home, Dave?"
"Actually, no I didn't. The traffic was unbelievable. Did you have a nice time while I was gone?"
"Yes, I did. It was enjoyable to have three days of peace."
"Mom, Dad, please don't fight again", said Melanie.
"Don't worry, Angel, your Mom and I weren't going to fight. We were just having a little discussion. How would you like some ice cream? What do you say, Michelle? Care to take a ride with Melanie and me?"
"Dave, you and I need to talk. Melanie, go and play outside for a little while. Your father and I need some privacy."
Dave headed for the bedroom to change clothes and Michelle followed him.
"Listen, Dave, this just isn't working for you and me anymore. While you were gone, I gave some serious thought to it. In fact, that's about all I did while you were gone. I think we should get a divorce, Dave. It's hard to say, but it's true. I simply can't go on living this way any longer. We've talked and we've talked and nothing ever changes. You ignore me and worship Melanie. I think you would have gotten rid of me a long time ago if it weren't for the fact that you thought it would be bad for Melanie. Sometimes I feel I hate my own daughter for the way you shower all your affection on her. Damn it, I'm not just a mother, I'm a wife. I'm entitled to love and respect for that, not simply because I'm the mother of the child you worship."
"Michelle, we've been over this a hundred times. You know how much I love you. There's something about Melanie, so precious, so innocent, that compels me to shower her with attention. I don't do it to spite you, it's.well, it's that I find something about her that I don't find with you anymore. Melanie is attentive to me and my needs and seems to hang on my every word and action. I need that. I need to be needed. You don't make me feel that way anymore. Do you understand me, Michelle?"
"I understand you all too well, Dave. I can't function as a person with you, only as a slave. If I don't marvel at your every word, I'm not what you need. Did you ever think of what I need? Did you ever think of anyone but yourself? I've had it, Dave. I'm getting a divorce with or without your permission. I'm going to a lawyer first thing in the morning, and that's it. Understand, lord and master, period. Finis."
"Alright, Michelle, alright. I agree with you and I won't try to stop you. The more we fight, the more we argue, the worse it becomes for Melanie. Go and see a lawyer tomorrow. I promise you I will cooperate reasonably if you do just one thing for me. Tonight, for the last time, let's be a family. Come with Melanie and me for ice cream. For the last time, let's be civil to one another, without sarcasm or bitterness. Is that agreeable to you?"
"I can agree to that, Dave, but I don't know what sense it makes to pretend now. We don't need to speak sarcastically to each other. We already know what the other is thinking. By the way, when do we tell Melanie?"
"Tomorrow, Michelle, when we begin breaking up. For tonight, we're still a family, remember?"
As the three of them sat in the car, Dave thought about what tomorrow would bring. He knew Michelle wouldn't give up Melanie without a fight, a fight he was certain to lose. "Damn, Michelle will get Melanie and all I'll get will be visiting rights. What a deal." As Dave's depression grew, so did his impatience. He had been waiting several minutes to turn left, a small eternity to him. He decided the car impeding his progress was moving slow enough to risk the turn. What Dave didn't know was that behind that car was another car driven by someone as impatient as Dave. The other car had already begun to pass as Dave was peeling rubber to enter the intersection.
A fraction of a second before the collision, Dave saw the other car heading directly at them. He quickly threw his arms around Melanie, sensing the hopelessness of attempting to steer clear of the accident. Unknown to himself, Dave was muttering prayers to a God he had long forgotten. As the noise of metal being forced into unnatural shapes tore at him, he clutched at Melanie, hoping his body would shield her from the main force of the impact.
It seemed forever before Dave could open his eyes to view the aftermath. His gaze fell upon his daughter, her head lolling at an impossible angle. "Oh God, oh God, why didn't you listen? Why did you have to take her?" Tears fell like a torrent from his eyes as his mind retreated into itself to save him from the pain he could not bear.
"Dave, Dave, are you hurt? Answer me, Dave, are you alright?" said Michelle, so overcome with grief and anguish she barely felt the pain from the severe fracture of her right leg.
At the hospital, Dave had a battery of tests including a CAT scan and skull x-rays; all the tests were negative and he was admitted for observation. Michelle had enough x-rays to fill a shopping bag; she was taken to surgery for immediate repair of her right femur. Melanie was taken to the morgue.
Several hours later, Dave awoke as if from a bad dream, but unfortunately this was a nightmare he would have to live with for quite a while. "Damn, why did this have to happen? If only I wasn't in such a hurry. If only Michelle hadn't spoken of divorce. What am I going to do without my little girl?" Dave felt despair beginning to take hold, but managed to stave it off with some inner strength. "You can't do this, Dave; you've got to stay together, at least for a while. Who'll take proper care of burying Melanie if you don't?" he thought.
"Nurse, nurse!" Dave shouted at the top of his lungs.
"What's the matter, Mr. Semmler? Please try to be calm; you'll only upset yourself and the other patients."
"Just tell me how to check out of here, then I'll be calm."
"Your doctor insists you stay here, sir; I'm afraid you can't check out simply because you want to. What if something happens to you after you left?"
"Whether my doctor insists or not, I'm going. I've got to bury my little girl, or are you telling me the doctor will handle all the arrangements?"
"You know he can't, Mr. Semmler, but you must stay here at least one more day for observation."
"The only thing you're going to observe, nurse, is my departure. Goodbye. By the way, is my wife alright?"
"She had a broken leg that was set last night. Other than that, she's physically well."
"Tell her I'll call her later."
Outside the hospital, Dave called a taxi to take him home. Entering the apartment was like entering another world. A world that had existed just hours before, but now seemed like the ancient past.
As Dave showered, he felt despair overpowering him and realized he couldn't stay here, at least not now. He hurriedly packed and had a taxi take him to a nearby motel.
"Damn, I've got a lot to do. I've got to rent a car, call a funeral home, speak with the priest, call my boss and talk to Michelle. Hopefully, it'll keep my mind off my troubles."
Dave arranged for a small private service to be held that night. Since neither he nor Michelle had any family, it was to be for close friends only.
Dave called the hospital and asked for Michelle's room. "Hello, Michelle. How are you feeling?"
"Where the hell are you? Your nurse told me you tore out of here without even asking if you could visit me."
"Listen, I'm doing my best to be polite. Today was the day you were supposed to see the lawyer, remember? As far as I'm concerned, we're divorced already. I called to tell you about the services I've set up for Melanie."
"I should have known you'd be more concerned about Melanie even in death than about me in life. Don't bother to call me anymore."
Dave was left holding a dead receiver. "Just as well", he thought, "she was never around when I needed her before; why the hell should she change now?"
Dave arrived at the wake early; only he and the attendant were present. "I guess it's only fitting I'm the first one here", he thought. It took him several minutes to approach the room where his daughter lay. As Dave walked toward the casket, his eyes upon his daughter, he saw Melanie turn her head suddenly toward him. His ears were filled with the lilting sound of her voice calling "Daddy, Daddy". The words were spoken slowly and drawn out, as if for emphasis. Dave recoiled in sheer terror, unable to believe what he had experienced. He forced himself to look again and he saw, before he fled the wake entirely, his daughter's open eyes staring through him into his soul.
Dave jumped into his rental car and drove, aimlessly he thought, until he found himself at his apartment minutes later. He stopped the car, but was too afraid to move. "No, no, I'm not going in there, not after what just happened. God, I've got to pull myself together, at least until after the funeral. The funeral! After the wake, how can I handle that? I've got it! I'll go back to the motel. There's a nice bar and I can indulge in some old-fashioned relaxing medicine."
So saying, Dave proceeded to drink. He planned to have only a few, just enough so he could quit shaking. But one led to another, and he found himself barely able to stagger back to his room. He had enough presence of mind to place a wake-up call with the operator.
Dave awoke the next morning to a loud ringing in his ears that felt as if it would split his head wide open. He thanked the operator for the wake-up call, showered, dressed and went to the restaurant for coffee. He sat there, his mind split between consoling his abused stomach into keeping the coffee down and in trying to understand what happened at the wake last night.
"Damn, I know what I saw and what I heard, but did it really happen or did my mind conjure it up? Could it really be Melanie reaching out from the dead? And if she is, why? Is she trying to console me or is she trying to avenge her death? Am I so overwrought that my guilt is making me suffer through this as a self-imposed punishment? If this keeps up, I'm going to have to seek help of some sort; I don't think I can handle this alone. Maybe I'll give Bill a call. Having a shrink for a friend can't hurt."
Dave was wary as he entered the funeral home, but nothing abnormal occurred. All eyes were on him as he walked up to his daughter's body before the casket was closed. He didn't realize it, but several of his friends were becoming concerned with his sanity. They knew of his imminent separation with Michelle and of the incident last night at the wake.
An hour later, Dave found himself at the cemetery. It was a warm sunny day with a nice breeze. "Melanie's favorite sort of day", he called wistfully. His gaze idly wandered to some trees a short distance away and there was Melanie leaning against a large oak, smiling and looking directly at him. Her sensuous voice drowned out the drone of the priest and Dave felt enraptured. He called her name aloud and began to walk toward her. Two of his friends held him back and tried to reason with him, but Dave knew what he saw and paid no attention. He watched as his daughter faded away slowly and heard the words "I'll be back, Daddy. Don't worry, I'll be back."
Dave turned and recognized Bill as one of the men holding him in place.
"Bill, I need to talk to you badly, very badly. Do you think we could do it soon?"
"Dave, why don't you come home with me? We could have a talk this afternoon. Besides, Linda hasn't seen you for some time and I know she'd love to have you."
"Are you sure you don't mind, Bill? I'd really appreciate it. I do need to talk to someone desperately."
At Bill's place, Dave sat down to a quiet lunch. Linda was subtly attentive and helped put Dave at ease. After lunch, Bill invited Dave to the den.
"Dave, I know this is traumatic for you. Michelle and you getting a divorce, Melanie's death; that's one hell of a combination to be handed in so short a time. How do you feel about it?"
"I guess you've talked to Michelle or you wouldn't have know about the divorce, but it's true. Taken one at a time, they're both pretty rough, but together I feel it's more than I can deal with. I can't thank you enough for asking me here and listening to me."
"That's what friends are for, Dave, so you don't have to thank me. If it'll make you feel better, I'll send you a bill. Just joking. Why don't you try to tell me what happened at the wake last night?"
"It's difficult to explain. I walked in to see Melanie's body when all of a sudden I heard her voice in my head and I saw her turn her face toward me. I was so scared I just ran out of there. Today at the funeral, I happened to be looking around and I see Melanie standing against a tree, smiling. She told me "Don't worry, I'll be back." I didn't know what to think. I still don't. Am I going crazy, Bill, or could this really be happening?"
"First of all, Dave, I don't think you're going crazy. You are having a very difficult time. When any person is under that much stress, their mind sometimes plays strange tricks on them. I personally doubt psychic experiences because I notice they only occur at times of great stress like fear or, in your case, guilt. It's not easy for me to say, Dave, but I think all your trouble stems from a guilty conscience. I could put a fancy sounding handle on it, but it still boils down to just plain guilt. You could, for example, be suffering guilt because you survived the accident and your daughter didn't. Or because the accident was partly your fault. Or because Michelle wanted a divorce and you would have lost Melanie either way. What do you think, Dave?"
"I guess you're right. If I hadn't been so damn impatient the accident would never have happened. Melanie would still be alive today. I could see her and hold her and listen to her voice. I could share myself with her, be the father she needed."
Dave continued to dwell on the thought when a flood of memories came rushing in: Melanie practicing the ballet at the barre set at the far end of the room; Melanie parading around in her mother's high heels and carrying her purse, pretending the way little girls do. He buried his face in his hand and the tears finally came. He wept until he could weep no more.
"How can I go on living after what I've done? My stupidity has killed my daughter! I've denied her the life she should have had, the life she would have had if it weren't for me. God, how could I have done this to the person I loved the most?"
"Get a hold on yourself, Dave. You made a mistake, a bad one. But nevertheless, you're going to have to learn to live with it or it'll take you to the grave. Don't let it overcome you. Of course you feel grief and remorse, but don't let them control you. I think the best thing you could do now would be to move in with Linda and me for a few weeks, until the worst of this is over. You'll have people who care around you and your own personal shrink to talk to whenever you need."
"Thanks for the offer, Bill, and don't think I don't appreciate it but I'm not about to impose myself on Linda and you. I've got to try and overcome this on my own with a minimum of help, otherwise I'm afraid I'll grow dependent on you. Besides, you know how stubborn I am."
"Alright, Dave, if that's what you really want, but I must say you won't be an imposition here. Are you going back to the motel?"
"I think I'll go back to the apartment for a while. I've got to do it sooner or later and the longer I wait the worse it'll be. Thanks again for your help and your offer. I appreciate it more than I can say."
Arriving at apartment near dusk, Dave turned on the lights and went into Melanie's room. He noticed the room was clean and her bed was made as if she were only going to be gone a short while and would soon return. He turned and stared into her mirror and out of the corner of his eye, he detected another image, that of a small girl. He watched as the image swiftly grew, blotting out his own, until it seemed she would emerge from the mirror. Dave took a step back, unable to break his gaze, and fell onto the bed. He heard the soft sensual tone of his daughter's voice. "I love you, Daddy. I know you didn't mean for me to die and I understand. You rest now; don't let anything bother you."
Dave felt compelled to sleep. When he awoke the next morning, he felt as if his soul were refreshed. He was content with the world. Then he recalled the voice.
"Jesus, what the hell did I experience last night? Didn't Bill tell me that this was my mind's reaction to the terrible stress and guilt I'm suffering? I'd better call Bill right away. Either he's wrong about psychic experiences or he's wrong about me not being crazy."
He heard, or rather felt, Melanie's voice lingering in his ears and slowly bouncing off the inside of his skull. "Lay down, Daddy, relax. I must talk to you. I see inside your head. I see a story you read about dead people and how their souls wander if their bodies aren't allowed to return to the earth. That's what has happened to me, Daddy. You owe me that much. You took away my life, don't take away my death. You must want to help me. Please don't tell anyone else; we both know they won't understand. Think very hard. I love you, Daddy."
As his senses gradually returned to normal, Dave was aghast at what had occurred. "What the hell do I do now? If I acknowledge this as real, then I help my daughter. I can't deny her a peaceful death after having denied her a peaceful life. If I acknowledge this as insanity, then I should call Bill immediately." Dave reached for the phone.
"Daddy, what are you doing? I told you no one else must know. Why do you think I'm not real? Daddy, don't you love me anymore?"
Dave sat transfixed, totally incapable of movement. Before he had time to think, the voice spoke again. "I can make you help me, Daddy, I can keep you here. I can keep coming back to visit you. Please, I don't want to make you suffer! Say yes, Daddy, and I'll let you have some peace after you've helped me."
The situation was too much for Dave. Held by a nightmare force he could not explain or control, added to the tremendous stress and guilt, his mind snapped. Dave felt insanity engulf him as he silently mouthed the word 'yes'.
"Thank you, Daddy, thank you. I knew you would help me! Now this is what you have to do."
Shortly after dusk, Melanie's voice woke Dave. Dave began to accept the voice as normal; indeed, he wondered what life would be like without it.
Dave drove to the supermarket. There he stocked up on canned food and purchased a shovel. He proceeded to the cemetery and located Melanie's plot. Digging, the voice ordered him to pace himself, so as not to overtire his body.
Hours later, Dave removed Melanie's waxy-looking body and placed it in the trunk of the car. He drove until he came to a motel fifty miles distant.
The voice woke him at dawn. Shortly after, Dave was driving north. He handled the car like a zombie; he was alert enough to drive carefully and follow directions, but he was oblivious to all else.
Two hundred miles later, nearly out of gas, the car turned off the main highway and proceeded down a country road. He was in wilderness now, backpacker's paradise. Dave turned down a small side road and found an old logging trail that was barely passable. The car kept moving for several miles before chugging to a halt, out of gas.
Dave felt himself opening the door and leaving the car even though he didn't want to leave. He removed Melanie's body from the trunk and leaned it against a tree. He settled down at the base of a tree five yards away.
Dave still had no control over his body and his mind drifted in and out of lucidity. "What's going on? What does she want? I kept my promise. I stole her body and brought it out here where it couldn't be found."
"Now that we're here, Daddy, I can explain it to you. What I need is for you to stay with my body until I can leave. If anyone finds it here, then my body will be put back in the ground before I can leave. I can't let that happen. You understand, don't you, Daddy?"
Horrified, Dave realized what was fully expected of him. He was to remain, forced to watch his daughter's body decompose. "No, Melanie, I didn't agree to this. Digging up your body was bad enough , but please, please, don't make me stay here!"
No answer came. Tears came into his eyes as he pictured the ordeal he was to endure. His mind receded into itself for the last time.
One week passed and it had been very warm. The heat and the insects had radically changed the appearance of Melanie's body. Her face was blackened; her eyes and nose were holes that writhed with maggots. Her lips had been eaten away and what remained had contracted into a hideous death grimace. Her abdomen and legs were horribly bloated.
Dave had also undergone a radical change. He no longer desired to leave. He did only as Melanie commanded. Dave smiled sedately, knowing he was performing well. He knew because the daughter he worshipped told him so. The voice was all he knew, it had become his god. It was omniscient and omnipotent; it was alpha and omega. He had forsaken all else to follow the voice of his savior.
God spoke. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I never thought you would go crazy, but there was no other way. Promise you don't hate me, Daddy?" Dave smiled, bathed in his savior's glow.
It had been over two weeks since Dave arrived in the backwoods and his task was near completion. Dave was beaming; his savior's voice delivered a never ending stream of gratitude and appreciation for his faithful worship.
Later that night, the voice woke him for the last time. "Wake up, Daddy, wake up! I'm so happy. I can leave now, but I couldn't go without saying goodbye to you first. I'll miss you. I love you, Daddy."
Dave woke at dawn as usual. A bag full of food remained, but there was no voice to command him to eat. The voice would never speak to him again. A smile remained on his face, the smile of the totally insane. He hadn't even noticed his god had deserted him without a care.
Days passed. Dave gazed vacantly at his daughter's body, or the remains of it, while his mind was little more than a vacuum. He hadn't eaten in over three days. He was becoming very weak, but didn't even notice. He hadn't moved to relieve himself, but he wasn't aware of the smell or discomfort.
A backpacker happened upon the scene the next day, drawn by the smell. He was appalled by the sight of Dave, but even more so by the sight of what remained under the tree a scant five yards from Dave. Afraid to touch anything, he left immediately for help. Not long after, a four-wheel drive vehicle arrived with two paramedics aboard. Dave was barely alive.
Dave died shortly after he arrived at the hospital. His wallet was found in the car and his hometown police notified. They in turn notified Michelle. She had just been discharged from the hospital and was staying with a friend. She was shocked beyond belief at what she learned. There was no wake, only a quiet double funeral.
Michelle was naturally despondent and spent most of her time in bed. The third day after the funeral, she sensed something else in the room with her. Sitting up, she saw nothing. And then she heard the voice, "Michelle, Michelle, I need you."
Last Updated January 7, 2007
All original material © Mike Dubrick 1980-2007. All rights reserved.
