Chapter 7: Somebody's Knockin'
"Demons will charm you with a smile"-Sweeney Todd
Mary looked out of what remained of the window as steam rose from her coffee cup. Morning had come quickly for her on the couch. She could hear Abby fumbling in their shared bathroom as she dressed to get ready for whatever lead she had for the day. She knew that they needed to talk about their argument, but it seemed that they would forget that it would happen. It wasn't healthy, she knew that, but it was a bump they had fallen into.
"Everything will be just fine."
Abby's reassuring words echoed through her mind as she thought about their life in Charleston before they had come to Trinity. She had given up everything to come down to this town all for Abigail to chase her dream, but she had yet to have any benefits from the move. Every day that passed her by was one day closer to the day that she would be fired for some ignorant reason from her job, the only source of income that they had coming in steadily.
She smiled as the memory of their first meeting passed through her mind. She could remember the very first promise that Abigail White had promised her and had tried to keep which is one of the reasons that she had stayed. Abby kept the want for drugs at bay and kept her happy most of the time, but things were dramatically changing.
The Macarena played in the dark, smoky club of Charleston, South Carolina. The music thumped through the club and caused Mary's glass of Sprite to vibrate to the beat. Mary looked to the left to see her friend dancing sexually against a bunch of men.
She had gone along out of loneliness with her old friend from high school. She had prayed that someone would bring her out of her depression and out of the blue her friend Mayra had called her to come with her to the bar.
Mary quickly felt out of place in this bar. She had just come to terms with her new found sexuality and her continuous fight with drugs.
"You alone," a sweet Southern voice asked from beside her.
She turned her attentions to the owner of the voice to see a very striking woman standing in front of her. The woman wore a bright yellow skirt and a simple white shirt that showed off her mid drift. A silver belly button ring twinkled at her as if it were an invitation that only she was offered. She looked up at the woman's short blonde hair and bright smile.
"What," Mary asked over the thumping club music.
"I asked if you are alone," the woman asked as she sat in the seat across from her, but quickly slid down the bright red booth seat to sit beside her. Alcohol reeked off of the woman's body as Mary slightly moved away from her.
"Uhm," Mary struggled as the woman's bright eyes peered at her in wonder. She pointed toward Mayra and replied, "My friend kind of left me here alone."
Mary turned back to the woman and smiled as she watched a sympathetic grin cover her face. She felt a wave of self-conscious embarrassment come over her as she looked down at her ugly long sleeve sweater. She pulled at the sleeves in hopes of hiding the scars of her past from the beautiful woman that seemed to have formed a quick, although drunken, interest in her.
The woman reached out and placed her hand upon Mary's covered wrist and whispered, "Your past isn't anything to be self-conscious about."
Mary looked at the woman with a strange wonder in her eyes and nodded. She had heard that many, many times, but it seemed like it meant something more coming from this woman's pink lips, as if it should be a statement that could be attainable.
"I'm Mary," she said with a smile as she held her hand out to the pale woman, "Mary Murphy."
"I'm Abigail White," the woman said with a smile and held Mary's hand within her own, "Call my Abby. All my friends do."
"Friend," Mary asked with curiosity as she looked at the beautiful stranger.
"Yeah," Abby stated with a chuckle. She slowly pulled up Mary's sleeve and took in her old track marks and burn scars, "You've had a bad life. I could tell before I even sat down. You look like you could use a good friend."
Mary shivered at Abby's touch. The touch caused a strange magnetic charge to move between the two of them that Mary had never in her life felt before. She felt herself moving closer to Abby's side.
"Or a good lay," Abby added as she took a swig of her flavored vodka drink.
Mary smiled at her own sense of bravery as she looked at Abby.
"How about both," Mary dared to ask as she slowly looked into Abby's eyes. A blush quickly came over her as she watched the woman smile at her courageous words.
Abby nodded and raised her glass in the air and asked, "How about a drink Mary?"
"Sure."
Abby smiled as she watched a waiter walk toward them to serve them. Abby let her hand wrap around Mary's and grasped it tightly as if to protect her from the world.
Mary shivered as she felt Abby move close to her ear and whisper, "Stick with me kid and I'll give you the world."
The sound of the phone ringing violently jerked Mary out of her reminiscing on the past. She looked away from the window and hurriedly made her way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. She sat her coffee cup onto the table and answered the phone.
"Hello," she answered. She could hear deep breathing on the other end of the phone before a man answered with the most polite Southern charm that she had ever heard in her life.
"Yes mam," the man announced over the phone, "We had a message on our answerin' machine last night for a broken window. I'm Jackson Jumper of Trinity Hometown Hardware."
"Yes," she answered as she watched Abby come out of their room, now fully dressed, "There was a brick thrown through the window late last night."
"Yeah," he said casually, "Teenagers probably. Listen, Miss Murphy, I can come by today if you are available?"
"I'd greatly appreciate that, but I have to work today."
"No problem," he answered. She could hear the flipping of pages in the background on his end of the line, "What time is your lunch? We aren't too busy today. I think I can fit you in somewhere."
"My lunch is from 10:55 to 11:50," she informed him as she turned to see Abby playing with their dog, Carrie.
"You are lucky," Jackson stated happily, "I'll see you then."
Mary hung up the phone without expressing her gratitude to the man and glared at her lover as she pulled on her brown bag and her backpack.
"Where are you going," Mary asked as she hurried after Abby who was making her way toward the door to sneak out without saying good bye.
"Craig left me a message that Mrs. Martin's law partner has agreed to give me an inside story on all of this," Abby answered in a matter of fact tone as she looked Mary in the eyes. Honesty was clear in her voice as she gave Mary a smile.
Mary shook her head in slight defeat. She hated that Abby was becoming distant as this story progressed. She placed her hand on Abby's cheek and shook her head.
"Abigail," she said sadly as she sighed deeply, "Promise me that you will come home early tonight?"
Abby smiled and placed a kiss upon Mary's soft lips and said, "Don't worry. I will be home. We'll have a nice dinner tonight."
Mary rolled her eyes at Abby's empty promise.
"We'll go to Charleston for the night," Abby said with a bright smile.
"Promise," Mary asked as she looked into Abby's eyes with hope burning in her own eyes.
Abby smiled at her lover and shook her head, "I promise."
Mary smiled softly as she watched her lover walk out of the door, leaving her alone in their cold apartment to dress for school.
...
Salome walked into the hospital with her head hung low. Dr. Billy Peele had called for her earlier and she had hurried out of her office to make it down. She could feel eyes of the patients looking at her, judging her, with their harsh eyes.
She hurried to the small nurses' station in the middle of the waiting room and smiled at the young nurse that peered over her small mountain of paperwork.
"Mrs. McKenzie," she said, "Dr. Peele called me. Is my husband okay?"
The nurse looked up to Salome with a look of cold sadness that resonated in her green eyes. Salome bit at her lip as she awaited the woman's response to her question. Dread filled her body at the unpredictable state that her husband was in.
"He's with a patient right now," the nurse explained and pointed toward the lumpy cheap chairs behind her, "You can wait for him if you'd like."
Salome nodded without argument and took her place beside one of the patients. Her eyes gazed down at the floor as the pain and worry of the many what-ifs ran through her mind. She found herself emerging more and more into her thoughts as she the cold wind from the old air conditioner breeze past her. She could hear the soft chattering of the patients around her, but she doused their voices out with her own memories.
"How's your husband doing?"
She continued to look at the floor, unaware of the question that one of the waiting patients had just asked. She blinked quickly and looked up at the man and shook her head as she took in his small smile.
"What," she asked with an apologetic tone.
"I asked how your husband was doing," he repeated.
She gave him a soft smile as her forehead wrinkled with obvious worry. She shook her head and said, "He's still in a coma, but they are hopeful that he'll come out of it soon."
The man smiled and said, "My wife is in a coma too. We pray for you and your husband every night."
She gave him a soft smile and shrugged her shoulders.
"Thank you," she replied softly as she looked away from him and toward the patient rooms where nurses were making their way in and out to check on the various patients.
"Ya know," the man continued, "I don't think you did anything."
She smiled at him and nodded her head, "I didn't do anything. I love him."
"That's why we pray for you as well," he said, "We pray that the Lord will give you strength to make it through this troubling time."
"Mrs. Martin," Billy's voice announced from inside of his office.
Salome looked toward him and then back to the man beside her.
"Thank you for the words of encouragement," she whispered as she collected her purse close to her and stood to walk into the office of the new town doctor.
"Now Mrs. Martin," Billy Peele announced as he watched Salome sit in the chair in front of his desk and look out toward the window, "I know you've been in and out of here all week. It isn't comforting to receive bad news about yourself, only to end up having to admit your own husband in-"
He looked over to her to see that she had spaced out on him. He could see the sadness in her eyes as she looked down to the tiled floor. He could see the memories flashing through her eyes as she sat in front of him.
Salome watched as Albert looked up at her from his place on the ground. He kneeled on one knee as he looked up at her from his place on the sidewalk.
"Get up," she whispered with an embarrassed smile as she watched the onlookers stop and watch them. Cars honked as they passed by them.
She watched as he placed his hand inside of his coat pocket. A shiver of delight ran down her spine as she watched him withdrawn a black velvet box and open it to reveal a simple yet beautiful diamond encrusted gold ring.
"Sally May," he whispered with a smile as he looked deeply into her eyes, "Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"
She placed her gloved hand against her lips as tears of ecstasy escaped her. She shook her head as her smile widened and she fell to her knees in front of him on the dirty sidewalk.
"Yes," she answered in delight as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close to her in a tight hug.
"Mrs. Martin," he said once again, this time earning a response from her. He watched as she blinked out of her trance and looked back up to him with a small smile.
"I prefer to do discuss these things privately," he informed her as he looked at her with great concern. He could see the look of worry come over her soft features.
"What things," she asked in concern as she watched him fiddle with the pen between his fingers, "I'm sorry I don't know what you need to talk about?"
I called you in here about your husband," he admitted.
"Yes," she said in a harsh tone, "I figured that. We've already discussed my problem. So what thing needs to be discussed?"
He smiled slightly at her reply and dropped his pen upon his messy desk. Her dark eyes glared at him.
"Uhm," he replied, "Look I'm sorry to be the one to inform you of this, but, uhh," he stopped and looked into her grievous eyes, "I'm afraid that Albert Martin may never wake up from his coma."
Billy watched as her features hardened at his words. The lines on her forehead defined as she looked away from him in an attempt to keep the tears from escaping her. He watched as this woman struggled to keep up her cold exterior in front of him.
"I think we should-"
"No," she answered, her voice cracking slightly, "He will wake up," she nodded at the doctor, "He will."
He watched as she stared at him with an unbreakable mask. He had watched as wives broke down in hysterics at the loss of their husbands. He could tell that Salome was fighting the urge to do as they did and she was succeeding. He had noticed on his last run in with her that she had the ability to control her emotions just as another strong figure in this town. She came off as a female version of the sheriff.
"It's a very slim chance," he replied honestly. He knew that he was coming off as cold, but he had made it a policy to be completely honest with a family's loved ones.
She shook her head at his answer.
"And if he does wake up," he offered to give the woman a dash of hope, "He may have some abnormalities. Recent brain scans show signs of a recent stroke."
Salome shook her head and offered him a thin smile as she held his gaze for a few moments as she searched for the impurities of his soul.
"Well," she whispered as she looked toward him with sarcasm in her eyes, "I'm sure dying in your care is a blessing."
"Now Mrs. Martin," he tried to reassure.
"Have you ever looked into the face of evil, Dr. Peele?"
He cocked his head to the side at the strange question that the lawyer had just asked. He had recognized the question; someone had asked him the same exact question when he had first came to Trinity.
"Well," he answered, "There is evil in us all."
No," she said with a harsh tone and a dark gaze, "I mean pure, unadulterated evil. Have you looked into their eyes?"
"You know Selena Coombs asked me the same thing when I came down here. What is it with this town and evil spirits?"
She chuckled as his response.
"My husband will be fine," she insisted with a large, unnerving smile, "You want to guess why, Doctor?"
He smiled at her optimism for her husband and replied, "Why?"
"I have looked into the eyes of true evil," she informed him harshly, "My arrogance can put Satan himself on edge."
"Mrs. Martin," he said trying to rationalize the clearly emotionally distraught female in front of him, "I really don't think there is much chance in him waking up again," he watched as she shrugged her shoulders, "No matter what your relationship with the Devil is."
...
A knock rang through the small apartment as Mary threw her small purse onto the couch. She hurried to the door and opened it to reveal a dark haired man with a bright innocent smile standing in the door frame.
Her eyes glance at the name that is stitched into the thick tan overalls that he wore over his regular clothes. The name 'Jumper' looked back at her in red stitching.
"Jumper," she announced with a smile. If she would have known the residents of Trinity better, she would have known that the man standing in her door way was none other than Zachery Wallace, attorney at law.
"Miss Murphy," he drawled out in his deep Southern accent. Carrie barked at him as Mary allowed him entrance into her home.
"Cute dog," he said as he watched the small dog bark and back away from him in fear and a small ounce of courage as it moved toward her owner, "What's her name?"
"Carrie," Mary answered with a smile as she picked the small dog from the floor and attempted to quiet her.
"Great name," Zachery said as he watched the woman pet her dog lovingly as it licked at her face. He hid the disgust on his face as the dog placed germs upon the woman's thin skin.
"My girlfriend picked it out," Mary admitted as she walked toward the bedroom door with him following close behind her, "She likes Steven King. Big horror fan."
Zachery chuckled at her words as he walked into the bedroom to see the board that they had placed on it during the night to keep the mosquitos and other summer insects out of the room as they slept cozily in their bed together.
"I have a dog too," he lied as he bent on his knees and looked at the damage that Jim Bowman had caused, "His name is Logan. My wife picked him out."
"Oh," she announced happily at the mention of his marriage, "Do you have kids?"
"Nah," he replied, "I wouldn't want to burden them with having to deal with me. Why do you ask?"
He looked to her and gave her a half grin as he waited for her answer.
"I'm the new teacher in town," she replied as she shrugged her left shoulder, "I teach at the elementary school in town."
"I thought I recognized that name," he replied as he stood from his place.
"So uh," she struggled to keep conversation as she watched him pull the board from the window and removed the excess glass, "Why don't you want kids exactly?"
"I'm a recovering drug addict," he replied as if it were common knowledge that everyone should know about, "I've been sober two years now."
"Really," she asked as she looked at him in slight shock. She felt her hand moving of its own accord to her covered arm and felt lightly of the old track marks that corrupted her perfectly pale skin.
"Yep," he answered casually and looked over to her with a look of sympathy, "And I can tell by those sleeves in this heat that you are too."
She looked at him with a small smile and shook her head as a soft embarrassed blush came across her face. It wasn't a blush of attraction; it was a blush of amazement. Amazement that there was someone out there that actually understood the grip that drug addiction had on someone. Abby didn't understand.
Since they had moved into this new town, the pull to find drugs tugged more and more violently on her as the days wore by. She had no one to talk to, especially now that Abby spent her nights collaborating with Craig.
"Would you like something," she asked as she pointed toward the kitchen, "Water? Tea?"
"A big glass of sweet tea sounds great," he replied with a small smile on his face. He watched as the woman turned whimsically on her heel and walked out of the bathroom. His smile quickly faded into a sneer as he listened to the dog growl at him from the living room where Mary quickly sat him down to fix his drink.
What is Zachery up to?
