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Homage to Tolkien
This is my own homage to Tolkien. Like Peter Daniels, who used The Bible as the backdrop for his stories; my world uses both Middle-earth and the Biblical Lands as the stage for my imagination to play out. THRIYEL.
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14 - THE END of the story?
THE SPLINTERED PLANTCHETTE
XIV
__________________________________________________________
George looked exhausted as he let the attendant lock the hospital door behind him. Upon seeing the physician in the hallway, George remarked, “I’ll come back this time tomorrow and check on her again, Doctor March.”
Shaking hands with his patient’s husband, the older man asked, “How was she today, Mr. Henson?”
“Better. She seems better than when I found her, at least. Thank you for everything, Doctor.”
“See you on Thursday. Not to worry, we’ll take good care of her for you, George.” After the man left, the physician entered the schizophrenic ward to follow up with his patient. The red haired woman sat in a recliner, quietly looking through a wire-reinforced window, with an ever so slight rocking-motion.
As the doctor approached, he overheard the woman whispering to herself, “The Planchette found you Olivia, you can rest now sissy.”
____________________________________________ From the beginning ... HERE
XIV
George looked exhausted as he let the attendant lock the hospital door behind him. Upon seeing the physician in the hallway, George remarked, “I’ll come back this time tomorrow and check on her again, Doctor March.”
Shaking hands with his patient’s husband, the older man asked, “How was she today, Mr. Henson?”
“Better. She seems better than when I found her, at least. Thank you for everything, Doctor.”
“See you on Thursday. Not to worry, we’ll take good care of her for you, George.” After the man left, the physician entered the schizophrenic ward to follow up with his patient. The red haired woman sat in a recliner, quietly looking through a wire-reinforced window, with an ever so slight rocking-motion.
As the doctor approached, he overheard the woman whispering to herself, “The Planchette found you Olivia, you can rest now sissy.”
........................................................................................................
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COMING SOON 2019!
____________________________________________ From the beginning ... HERE
13
THE SPLINTERED PLANCHETTE
XIII
________________________________________
Passing several other buildings along the way, Olivia tried calling Jillian as her eyes darted about in hopes of catching her sister possibly walking in her direction. In the apartment’s playground area was a grandfather watching his two grandkids walked their Chihuahua and Poodle. A few minutes later, Olivia quickened her pace at not getting an answer or a return call. As she came to the end of the complex’s property and a beginning trial into the nearby woods, still there was no sign of her sister.
Olivia stood there a second as she redialed the number making sure it was correct. Oddly enough she caught the sound of a distant phone ringing. She hung up. The ringing stopped. Olivia whispered aloud to herself, “Oh I better not catch her fooling around with that John Stevens in here either, I’ll kill her.” Then, entering the oaken, vine covered canopy of the undeveloped land, Olivia redialed the new number. Again she heard a phone ring. Its ringtone was getting louder and more distinct as Olivia went down the trail. She hung up, mad.
Coming to the Y junction, Olivia veered to the right; she knew the longer trail headed to the lakeside park area, where the Frisbee golf course began. If Jillian was with a boy she wanted to bust her red handed. The woods were silent. It was as if all the sound in the world had been turned off, and the outside muffled against the traffic and apartment life that lay beyond its lush greenery. Olivia’s eyes were scanning up ahead and her ears were hypersensitive, trying to pick up on any kind of noise.
“That’s creepy,” Olivia blurted aloud. Off the trail, amid a fern bed was the two halves of a white mannequin. The fourteen year old girl stood there for a second, and then, looking about her surroundings wondered aloud, “Where in-the-world is that girl.” She sighed a frustrated breath, and redialed her sister’s number. The phone rang loudly. Ever so slowly Olivia’s eyes began to edge back to the splayed mannequin parts. Suddenly her eyes honed in on the lit screen of Jillian’s cell phone. It was placed in clear view, resting atop a fallen tree branch mere inches from the feet of the red painted mannequin.
The mannequin was separated at the waist. The upper portion was laying a foot or so apart from the hips, with their badly bruised legs spread wide apart. Its groin area had a gaping hole, and a blacken-red, mangled-mass spilling out where the gentiles should have been. The body was covered in a battering of ugly bruises. The face of the mannequin was horrible to look at. Olivia was frozen as she stood there unable to take her eyes off the thing. The mouth of the white body on the ground in front of her had its cheeks slashed forming a grotesque, bleeding smile; its eyes and forehead had been brutally caved in. Suddenly, Olivia’s eyes went to the mannequin’s left ankle, and immediately identified Jillian’s bangle bracelets; dotted with pink butterflies.
She squealed a long, repeated scream, and then began vomiting over and over.
CONTINUE Reading to the end.... 14
______________________________________________ From the beginning... HERE
XIII
Passing several other buildings along the way, Olivia tried calling Jillian as her eyes darted about in hopes of catching her sister possibly walking in her direction. In the apartment’s playground area was a grandfather watching his two grandkids walked their Chihuahua and Poodle. A few minutes later, Olivia quickened her pace at not getting an answer or a return call. As she came to the end of the complex’s property and a beginning trial into the nearby woods, still there was no sign of her sister.
Olivia stood there a second as she redialed the number making sure it was correct. Oddly enough she caught the sound of a distant phone ringing. She hung up. The ringing stopped. Olivia whispered aloud to herself, “Oh I better not catch her fooling around with that John Stevens in here either, I’ll kill her.” Then, entering the oaken, vine covered canopy of the undeveloped land, Olivia redialed the new number. Again she heard a phone ring. Its ringtone was getting louder and more distinct as Olivia went down the trail. She hung up, mad.
Coming to the Y junction, Olivia veered to the right; she knew the longer trail headed to the lakeside park area, where the Frisbee golf course began. If Jillian was with a boy she wanted to bust her red handed. The woods were silent. It was as if all the sound in the world had been turned off, and the outside muffled against the traffic and apartment life that lay beyond its lush greenery. Olivia’s eyes were scanning up ahead and her ears were hypersensitive, trying to pick up on any kind of noise.
“That’s creepy,” Olivia blurted aloud. Off the trail, amid a fern bed was the two halves of a white mannequin. The fourteen year old girl stood there for a second, and then, looking about her surroundings wondered aloud, “Where in-the-world is that girl.” She sighed a frustrated breath, and redialed her sister’s number. The phone rang loudly. Ever so slowly Olivia’s eyes began to edge back to the splayed mannequin parts. Suddenly her eyes honed in on the lit screen of Jillian’s cell phone. It was placed in clear view, resting atop a fallen tree branch mere inches from the feet of the red painted mannequin.
The mannequin was separated at the waist. The upper portion was laying a foot or so apart from the hips, with their badly bruised legs spread wide apart. Its groin area had a gaping hole, and a blacken-red, mangled-mass spilling out where the gentiles should have been. The body was covered in a battering of ugly bruises. The face of the mannequin was horrible to look at. Olivia was frozen as she stood there unable to take her eyes off the thing. The mouth of the white body on the ground in front of her had its cheeks slashed forming a grotesque, bleeding smile; its eyes and forehead had been brutally caved in. Suddenly, Olivia’s eyes went to the mannequin’s left ankle, and immediately identified Jillian’s bangle bracelets; dotted with pink butterflies.
She squealed a long, repeated scream, and then began vomiting over and over.
CONTINUE Reading to the end.... 14
______________________________________________ From the beginning... HERE
12
THE SPLINTERED PLANCHETTE
XII
_____________________________________________
Sitting on a bar stool, eating a bowl of cereal, Olivia noticed the digital clock read 5:27PM, when her dad walked through the apartment’s front door. “Hi Daddy,” she was happy to see him.
“Hey Sweetie,” he said as he set a cardboard box down on the dining room table, and asked, “Where’s your sister, Jillian?”
“How do you do that, dad?”
“What’s that, honey?”
“Tell us apart, we always confused mom.” She loved how he picked up on details.
“Oh, I just think Jillian smiles more because she likes being older than you, Olivia.”
The younger teenager scoffed a laugh, “Yeah right, by two minutes dad, count them, two – minuets.” Looking at her dad’s uniform, she injected, “RICK? What happened to ‘RICHARD’ dad?” His daughter noticed the embroidered name tag on his Coca-Cola shirt was different today.
He shook his head with a smirk, “Yeah, I know right. I told that secretary of ours, Brenda to get the spelling right.” Then, changing the subject from work, Richard announced, “I was going to take you guys out for Chinese tonight. You’ve both helped out a lot and are doing great in school, so thought you could use a break.”
His daughter knew their finances were spread thin since her parent’s divorce, “You know we can’t afford to go out dad, besides it’s my turn to cook, and I’d like to make something I saw Chef Ramsey do on TV.”
Rummaging through the mechanical parts in the box that he had brought home to repair; her dad looked up, “Hey, we can afford it. I got a raise today! I wanted to go out and celebrate tonight.” A bewildered expression came over his face a second later, as though he was missing something in the conversation, he asked, “Where is Jillian?”
Olivia began cleaning up after herself, and started putting dishes away, “She got upset at me again, over some boy who helped her open her locker. She stormed off. She probably came the back way through the woods.”
His full attention was one of concern, “Okay. But, Olivia, don’t you think that 5:30 is a bit late? Even for her this is late.” Richard then instructed his daughter, “Go and check on your sister, please.”
Hearing the worry in her father’s tone, Olivia answered, “Yes, sir.” Then, getting her cell phone out of her backpack, Olivia added playfully, “And I won’t scold the old girl either when I find her.”
He grinned back, “Okay, sissy.” Rummaging again through the coke machine changer parts, her dad smiled at his daughter’s age difference.
“No, you stay here, Spence,” Olivia did not want to take the Brittany spaniel out and have to wait for the dog to do his business. The skies were darkening, and the junior high student just wanted to hurry things up. Mad or not, the two sisters always stayed in contact. Olivia was beginning to feel as concerned as her father, when she noticed there were no missed calls on her phone.
Olivia's hazel eyes scanned the grounds of the apartment complex as she exited the front door. She absent mindedly spun the butterfly bracelet on her wrist heading off to find Jillian. Jillian wore the same one on her ankle. Their grandmother Robin had given them as gifts to tell the twins apart. Olivia really didn't feel like going out and looking for Jillian or getting into another argument.
Looking beyond the treetops at the boiling storm clouds rolling in, Olivia muttered, "Thanks Jillian, now we're both gonna get drenched!" Seeking the shortest route home, she started out to the parking lot on the far side of the complex's property, only because when they were upset it was the paths they took. They enjoyed cutting through the undeveloped woodlands. With all the different trails and sidewalks to choose from Olivia hoped she wouldn't miss her sister along the way.
Her sandals clicked down a long sidewalk that lay between the last two buildings just before the woods began. Stepping off the curb, beneath the shadows of a covered carport, the redhaired twin spotted something on the ground. She barely managed not to step on it. The two halves of a heart shaped something caught her interest. Picking it up she instantly recognized what it was, "A Planchette, yeah like Dad would ever let us buy a Ouija Board, right sissy?" She held up the two splintered pieces together and peered through the clear lens that was still intact.
Olivia saw the greenery of the tree line off in the distance. An unexpected ray of sunlight shone through the disc refracting in the pointer's window with a brilliant color change. The glow took on an eerie haze bathing the woods in a blood red color. She dropped the toy immediately, yelling, "Sissy!"
She had stayed moments too long. Quickening her pace Olivia took up the search to locate her sister again. Retrieving her cell from a back pocket dialed her number, "Girl you'd better pick up!" The rings continued without answer, "Come on Jillian, swear if I get wet --." She hung up and marched faster off into the woods.
CONTINUE Reading... 13
____________________________________________ From the beginning... HERE
XII
Sitting on a bar stool, eating a bowl of cereal, Olivia noticed the digital clock read 5:27PM, when her dad walked through the apartment’s front door. “Hi Daddy,” she was happy to see him.
“Hey Sweetie,” he said as he set a cardboard box down on the dining room table, and asked, “Where’s your sister, Jillian?”
“How do you do that, dad?”
“What’s that, honey?”
“Tell us apart, we always confused mom.” She loved how he picked up on details.
“Oh, I just think Jillian smiles more because she likes being older than you, Olivia.”
The younger teenager scoffed a laugh, “Yeah right, by two minutes dad, count them, two – minuets.” Looking at her dad’s uniform, she injected, “RICK? What happened to ‘RICHARD’ dad?” His daughter noticed the embroidered name tag on his Coca-Cola shirt was different today.
He shook his head with a smirk, “Yeah, I know right. I told that secretary of ours, Brenda to get the spelling right.” Then, changing the subject from work, Richard announced, “I was going to take you guys out for Chinese tonight. You’ve both helped out a lot and are doing great in school, so thought you could use a break.”
His daughter knew their finances were spread thin since her parent’s divorce, “You know we can’t afford to go out dad, besides it’s my turn to cook, and I’d like to make something I saw Chef Ramsey do on TV.”
Rummaging through the mechanical parts in the box that he had brought home to repair; her dad looked up, “Hey, we can afford it. I got a raise today! I wanted to go out and celebrate tonight.” A bewildered expression came over his face a second later, as though he was missing something in the conversation, he asked, “Where is Jillian?”
Olivia began cleaning up after herself, and started putting dishes away, “She got upset at me again, over some boy who helped her open her locker. She stormed off. She probably came the back way through the woods.”
His full attention was one of concern, “Okay. But, Olivia, don’t you think that 5:30 is a bit late? Even for her this is late.” Richard then instructed his daughter, “Go and check on your sister, please.”
Hearing the worry in her father’s tone, Olivia answered, “Yes, sir.” Then, getting her cell phone out of her backpack, Olivia added playfully, “And I won’t scold the old girl either when I find her.”
He grinned back, “Okay, sissy.” Rummaging again through the coke machine changer parts, her dad smiled at his daughter’s age difference.
“No, you stay here, Spence,” Olivia did not want to take the Brittany spaniel out and have to wait for the dog to do his business. The skies were darkening, and the junior high student just wanted to hurry things up. Mad or not, the two sisters always stayed in contact. Olivia was beginning to feel as concerned as her father, when she noticed there were no missed calls on her phone.
Olivia's hazel eyes scanned the grounds of the apartment complex as she exited the front door. She absent mindedly spun the butterfly bracelet on her wrist heading off to find Jillian. Jillian wore the same one on her ankle. Their grandmother Robin had given them as gifts to tell the twins apart. Olivia really didn't feel like going out and looking for Jillian or getting into another argument.
Looking beyond the treetops at the boiling storm clouds rolling in, Olivia muttered, "Thanks Jillian, now we're both gonna get drenched!" Seeking the shortest route home, she started out to the parking lot on the far side of the complex's property, only because when they were upset it was the paths they took. They enjoyed cutting through the undeveloped woodlands. With all the different trails and sidewalks to choose from Olivia hoped she wouldn't miss her sister along the way.
Her sandals clicked down a long sidewalk that lay between the last two buildings just before the woods began. Stepping off the curb, beneath the shadows of a covered carport, the redhaired twin spotted something on the ground. She barely managed not to step on it. The two halves of a heart shaped something caught her interest. Picking it up she instantly recognized what it was, "A Planchette, yeah like Dad would ever let us buy a Ouija Board, right sissy?" She held up the two splintered pieces together and peered through the clear lens that was still intact.
Olivia saw the greenery of the tree line off in the distance. An unexpected ray of sunlight shone through the disc refracting in the pointer's window with a brilliant color change. The glow took on an eerie haze bathing the woods in a blood red color. She dropped the toy immediately, yelling, "Sissy!"
She had stayed moments too long. Quickening her pace Olivia took up the search to locate her sister again. Retrieving her cell from a back pocket dialed her number, "Girl you'd better pick up!" The rings continued without answer, "Come on Jillian, swear if I get wet --." She hung up and marched faster off into the woods.
CONTINUE Reading... 13
____________________________________________ From the beginning... HERE
11
THE SPLINTERED PLANCHETTE
XI
__________________________________________
It was an average day like any other when the world turned upside down. September the seventh of 2001 was a stunningly beautiful day, with just the barest wisps of clouds in the sky as the two girls walked home from school. Lake Cliff Junior High was only five blocks from their apartment, but it might as well have been a million. Jillian and her fourteen year old twin sister, Olivia was arguing along the way, and always about boys.
Olivia noticed her sister tuck a love-note into the back pocket of her blue jeans, “I don’t know what you see in him.”
With a blushing smile, she bobbed her head a bit and replied, “He’s cute, come on.”
Crossing the street leaving a group of other students behind, the twins caught up again on the opposite sidewalk. The younger one, by two minutes said, “Maybe, but his personality sucks, John Stevens is a real jerk, Jillian.”
“He’s a jerk only because he didn’t help you out with your locker combination, Olivia,” Jillian retorted sarcastically.
Olivia was trying to reason with her, “No. He’s a jerk because of the way he’s so two-faced with people. Like, when Jessica Stanford, Chelsea Glasgow, and Sandra –.”
Jillian scoffed a laughed at her sister’s resources, “Seriously, you’re going to list all the girls he likes, Olivia?”
Olivia tried to prove her point another way, “What I’m saying, silly is – more than one person at a time has told me things about the way –.”
But Jillian was put off by the offense, “You know what, don’t call me ‘silly’, and I’m like – just, so not interested in anything you have to say right now, alright?” With that, she stormed back across the street evading the conversation. Readjusting the shoulder straps on her backpack, Jillian sought an alternative route home to clear her head. The skies over head were growing darker. The seemingly unpredictable Texas weather was about to change. Jillian had walked an extra six blocks muttering to herself, then whispered aloud, “Oh wow, there’s Sandra Coke’s house, how the heck did I get this far?” She realized the time had gotten away from her, and it was getting late in the evening. No one else was around and the traffic in the outskirt community was quiet. Jillian turned around and started retracing her way back home, eleven blocks away.
As she did a baby blue Ford Mustang pulled up alongside of Jillian. From his window the driver calmly asked, “Starting to rain, need a lift?”
Jillian shuttered with the first pelting drops as well as being startled by a question from the silent road; she was still mad and answered sharply, “No. Leave me alone.”
The car met her pace as the smiling man ignored her tone, and asked, “Looks like it’s fixing to pour down any moment. Don’t want to catch the flu and miss school, now do you?”
Jillian was getting cold as the rain had indeed begun to come down harder. She certainly did not want to miss a chance at seeing her new love interest, so she conceded, “Alright, thanks.” The fourteen year old walked about the car and slid into the front seat of the stranger’s car. Keeping her backpack on she buckled up, and they were on their way. A few moments later Jillian asked the driver, “What’s your name?”
“Jonas Hartman,” he answered without hesitation and then asked, “I live in these apartments up ahead, and you?
Jillian informed him, “I live there too, building 17.”
Jonas smiled, “Oh, cool.” Then, looking into his rearview mirror noticing something in the backseat, regretfully injected, “I have to drop my friend’s son’s backpack off with his homework, it’ll only take a second, alright? He left it in the car. I’m so sorry; seriously it will only take a second.”
“Okay, if it’s just a second.”
Turning at the next left and slowing at a house with no vehicles, “Man, his mother Rachel must have left. They said they were going to Walmart; I must have just missed them. Sorry, about that, let’s get you home.”
“Thanks,” she said as they continued on as before.
“If I can ask, why were you walking alone? Your parents don’t pick you up.”
“They’re divorced. Mom has her own life and dad is always working. He says we’re old enough to fend for ourselves for a few hours before he comes dragging in.”
“Oh, I see. You said ‘we’?”
“Yeah my sister, Olivia and my brother Kevin, he’s in college, and never writes.”
“Oh, I see.” His eyes were always ahead. Slowing, he informed his young passenger, “Oh man, looks like construction. I’m sorry for the detour.”
She sighed at the obvious truth, “It’s alright. Stuff happens, wasn’t in a hurry but I should be getting home.” Seeing the darkening skies and noticing the time on her watch 3:48 PM. As the car slowed by an undeveloped wooded area, Jillian said, “You can let me off here I can just cut through the woods. There’s a Frisbee golf course with trails and the apartment is on the other side.”
Smiling at her, Jonas made sure his car’s door automatically unlocked, “Alright,” he then nodded a good-bye.
Leaning over and peering back into the car through the opened window, the red-haired girl beamed a grateful smile, “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Hartman.”
The kindly older man returned her smile, “You are most welcome, Jillian. Be careful.”
Julian left the construction area and began cutting across the open filed that led to the wooded area and her apartments just beyond its trails. A few moments before she would be lost beyond view of the road she turned about and saw the driver was still grid locked in traffic, and gave a final wave; smiled at noticing its return. The brief downpour ended.
The ground beneath the thick canopy of trees was still dry within the woods. Jillian and Olivia loved cutting through them and exploring the various footed paths. It was not very long after she had entered, that she heard the sound of twinges snapping and the approach of someone else. The sight of Mr. Hartman dodging and swatting flies made Jillian smile, and shake her head. He was breathing heavily and out of breath. He looked out of place wearing slacks and dress shirt. As he looked up seeing her, she called out with a laugh, “Are you following me?”
Stumbling over a rock, the confused man admitted, “My car broke down, and I’ve never walked through here before. Feels like a jungle. Wow, can’t believe I’m lost right next to my own apartment, boy I feel dumb.”
The savvy fourteen year old’s confidence spurted, “It’s cool. I’ll show you a short cut and the long way over to the lake.”
Jonas, sighed a relief, “Thanks. It’s kind of neat in here.”
She smiled awkwardly, “Yeah.”
The trail came to a Y as the woods grew thicker. Jillian turned back around to ensure the older man had not gotten lost again. She saw him take out a silver hammer from his back pocket; it was a meat tenderizer. She asked, just as he was rose it as a weapon above his head, “What’s that for? What are you doing?”
He brought it down in a hard swing, cracking the young girl’s skull, instantly knocking her unconscious. Standing over her slumped form, Jonas looked down and answered, “Anything I want.”
CONTINUE Reading... 12
_____________________________________________ From the beginning... HERE
XI
It was an average day like any other when the world turned upside down. September the seventh of 2001 was a stunningly beautiful day, with just the barest wisps of clouds in the sky as the two girls walked home from school. Lake Cliff Junior High was only five blocks from their apartment, but it might as well have been a million. Jillian and her fourteen year old twin sister, Olivia was arguing along the way, and always about boys.
Olivia noticed her sister tuck a love-note into the back pocket of her blue jeans, “I don’t know what you see in him.”
With a blushing smile, she bobbed her head a bit and replied, “He’s cute, come on.”
Crossing the street leaving a group of other students behind, the twins caught up again on the opposite sidewalk. The younger one, by two minutes said, “Maybe, but his personality sucks, John Stevens is a real jerk, Jillian.”
“He’s a jerk only because he didn’t help you out with your locker combination, Olivia,” Jillian retorted sarcastically.
Olivia was trying to reason with her, “No. He’s a jerk because of the way he’s so two-faced with people. Like, when Jessica Stanford, Chelsea Glasgow, and Sandra –.”
Jillian scoffed a laughed at her sister’s resources, “Seriously, you’re going to list all the girls he likes, Olivia?”
Olivia tried to prove her point another way, “What I’m saying, silly is – more than one person at a time has told me things about the way –.”
But Jillian was put off by the offense, “You know what, don’t call me ‘silly’, and I’m like – just, so not interested in anything you have to say right now, alright?” With that, she stormed back across the street evading the conversation. Readjusting the shoulder straps on her backpack, Jillian sought an alternative route home to clear her head. The skies over head were growing darker. The seemingly unpredictable Texas weather was about to change. Jillian had walked an extra six blocks muttering to herself, then whispered aloud, “Oh wow, there’s Sandra Coke’s house, how the heck did I get this far?” She realized the time had gotten away from her, and it was getting late in the evening. No one else was around and the traffic in the outskirt community was quiet. Jillian turned around and started retracing her way back home, eleven blocks away.
As she did a baby blue Ford Mustang pulled up alongside of Jillian. From his window the driver calmly asked, “Starting to rain, need a lift?”
Jillian shuttered with the first pelting drops as well as being startled by a question from the silent road; she was still mad and answered sharply, “No. Leave me alone.”
The car met her pace as the smiling man ignored her tone, and asked, “Looks like it’s fixing to pour down any moment. Don’t want to catch the flu and miss school, now do you?”
Jillian was getting cold as the rain had indeed begun to come down harder. She certainly did not want to miss a chance at seeing her new love interest, so she conceded, “Alright, thanks.” The fourteen year old walked about the car and slid into the front seat of the stranger’s car. Keeping her backpack on she buckled up, and they were on their way. A few moments later Jillian asked the driver, “What’s your name?”
“Jonas Hartman,” he answered without hesitation and then asked, “I live in these apartments up ahead, and you?
Jillian informed him, “I live there too, building 17.”
Jonas smiled, “Oh, cool.” Then, looking into his rearview mirror noticing something in the backseat, regretfully injected, “I have to drop my friend’s son’s backpack off with his homework, it’ll only take a second, alright? He left it in the car. I’m so sorry; seriously it will only take a second.”
“Okay, if it’s just a second.”
Turning at the next left and slowing at a house with no vehicles, “Man, his mother Rachel must have left. They said they were going to Walmart; I must have just missed them. Sorry, about that, let’s get you home.”
“Thanks,” she said as they continued on as before.
“If I can ask, why were you walking alone? Your parents don’t pick you up.”
“They’re divorced. Mom has her own life and dad is always working. He says we’re old enough to fend for ourselves for a few hours before he comes dragging in.”
“Oh, I see. You said ‘we’?”
“Yeah my sister, Olivia and my brother Kevin, he’s in college, and never writes.”
“Oh, I see.” His eyes were always ahead. Slowing, he informed his young passenger, “Oh man, looks like construction. I’m sorry for the detour.”
She sighed at the obvious truth, “It’s alright. Stuff happens, wasn’t in a hurry but I should be getting home.” Seeing the darkening skies and noticing the time on her watch 3:48 PM. As the car slowed by an undeveloped wooded area, Jillian said, “You can let me off here I can just cut through the woods. There’s a Frisbee golf course with trails and the apartment is on the other side.”
Smiling at her, Jonas made sure his car’s door automatically unlocked, “Alright,” he then nodded a good-bye.
Leaning over and peering back into the car through the opened window, the red-haired girl beamed a grateful smile, “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Hartman.”
The kindly older man returned her smile, “You are most welcome, Jillian. Be careful.”
Julian left the construction area and began cutting across the open filed that led to the wooded area and her apartments just beyond its trails. A few moments before she would be lost beyond view of the road she turned about and saw the driver was still grid locked in traffic, and gave a final wave; smiled at noticing its return. The brief downpour ended.
The ground beneath the thick canopy of trees was still dry within the woods. Jillian and Olivia loved cutting through them and exploring the various footed paths. It was not very long after she had entered, that she heard the sound of twinges snapping and the approach of someone else. The sight of Mr. Hartman dodging and swatting flies made Jillian smile, and shake her head. He was breathing heavily and out of breath. He looked out of place wearing slacks and dress shirt. As he looked up seeing her, she called out with a laugh, “Are you following me?”
Stumbling over a rock, the confused man admitted, “My car broke down, and I’ve never walked through here before. Feels like a jungle. Wow, can’t believe I’m lost right next to my own apartment, boy I feel dumb.”
The savvy fourteen year old’s confidence spurted, “It’s cool. I’ll show you a short cut and the long way over to the lake.”
Jonas, sighed a relief, “Thanks. It’s kind of neat in here.”
She smiled awkwardly, “Yeah.”
The trail came to a Y as the woods grew thicker. Jillian turned back around to ensure the older man had not gotten lost again. She saw him take out a silver hammer from his back pocket; it was a meat tenderizer. She asked, just as he was rose it as a weapon above his head, “What’s that for? What are you doing?”
He brought it down in a hard swing, cracking the young girl’s skull, instantly knocking her unconscious. Standing over her slumped form, Jonas looked down and answered, “Anything I want.”
CONTINUE Reading... 12
_____________________________________________ From the beginning... HERE
10
THE SPLINTERED PLANCHETTE
X
_____________________________________
The diary and all its dead secrets were too much for Jillian Henson. Her overwhelmed emotions were on the verge of breaking. The next morning Jillian gathered her things and stuffed the journal into her purse. She sighed aloud as she closed the door on her living room, “I suppose there won’t be any more visits after all, Olivia.” Jillian finally accepted the fact that she needed help in putting her past behind her in order to move forward.
Twenty minutes later and she was leaving her parked car. Entering the Lonnieville Police Department was like barging into the bustle of a hornet’s nest. Her thoughts were whirling as much as the pounding anxiety in her chest was escalating. Blue uniforms were scrambling back and forth in the white office. Behind the raised desk in front of her sat an older man who looked like he could have easily been chewing on a fat cigar. Without even looking up he grunted at her approaching, “Yep?”
Holding the journal up in the air, Jillian suddenly went pale, “I – I would like to report a murder.”
All heads in the house turned in her direction as the bustle came to a grinding halt. The desk sergeant looked up for the first time that day, “Say again…?”
Jillian’s squinted eyes looked baffling at the desk sergeant. His mouth was moving, but he was obviously not talking to her but to someone else in her direction. His words sounded like a jumbling of muffled gibberish spoken off in the distance. It was like a bee buzzing sound. She felt dizzy. The book slipped from her hand, and fell in slow motion. It fell but was nowhere to be found. As she turned to see to whom the Officer was speaking, an even more horrific feeling came over her at seeing who it was. She stood there frozen as the man calmly spoke with a blissful expression on his face.
It was George. It – was George. George was there, and very much alive and well. He was sitting in an office chair beside her, wearing his usual suit and blue tie that he wore as an Insurance agent. Acting like nothing was wrong, as though he had been sitting there the entire time.
In that very moment of seeing him smiling at her, Jillian asked him with the most angelic expression, “Did you know that God really has the face of a red Horney Toad, George?”
“What?”
“What,” She asked just as confused?
Though George was looking at her, his voice was replying to the man beyond her, “I loved her long before I even proposed marriage, and I have never regretted our time together since.” Yet, a second later and his expression began to melt into one of utter confusion as he added, “When – I came home from an out-of-town business trip, what I found looked like her whole world had crumbled apart. The stovetops were left on, the counters and both sinks were piled with ever dirty dish in the apartment. The water was running in the bath tub without a stopper, dog feces and urine were everywhere under the kitchen table, and both of Spencer’s bowls were empty. When I came in the house Spencer never got up to greet me; the dog was lying next to her, whimpering. Olivia was sitting on the floor in front of the couch with her arms wrapped about her legs rocking back and forth.” George shook his head, and looked directly at the police officer, “I am telling you, Doctor March I was seriously overwhelmed, and I’m still scared for her safety.”
The woman looked like her head was going to explode from all the conversation; Jillian turned back to face the police officer, but instead now saw the same man sitting on a stool with a laptop on a side-counter. His white lab coat was draped with a black and silver stethoscope. Jillian’s vision skipped a beat like a video missing frames. Her thoughts were scattered and she struggled to piece things together.
The Doctor somehow appeared less grim to her than he did a moment before. He looked at his patience saying, “It is very sad and unsettling to hear that Olivia has regressed after she had been making so much progress. George, you mentioned earlier before, that she lost her new job. Well, we can get an emergency court order to have her admitted today. We’ll keep her here for observation. But you need to know it will take some time before she will get to her baseline state as before.”
Doctor March looked the woman directly in her eyes and asked, as she began twirling her red-hair about a finger, “Can you explain how you came to think of George as the serial killer, Olivia?”
Olivia answered with a bored tone, “Of course George is not a serial killer. But that lady walking her dog in my field, I’m not too sure about. It’s like – removing all the bolts from the hub of a wheel, and replacing a flat tired with the good, and then putting each one of the nuts back on in a star formation. That’s how my father showed me how to leave the water running.”
The Doctor shot a glance to George, then after making a notation on his computer, asked his wife pointedly, “Do you realize that you are Olivia, and not you’re sister Jillian?”
Still twirling her finger about her teased hair, she began to laugh with a straight face, “Of course I realize that. My parents always got us confused because of our red hair. Dad said he knew it was me because I seldom smiled. It makes my head hurt to realize such things now, even the people in that little house are crying from my head aching so much.”
March and George both turned to see where she was pointing; they saw a sketch of the University on the diploma where the doctor had earned his degree.
The woman’s eyes dashed back and forth in-between their thinking faces. She really did wonder if it was the first time they had ever noticed the tiny people on the wall diplomas or if they were just testing her. The white coat man glanced over at his computer screen, then added, “I’ve been looking over her medical records and family history, a – Doctor Kremer noted that Olivia was actually the first responder on the scene to find her sister Jillian. The trauma of seeing that the killer had not buried her like the others must have cemented the onset of her condition.”
George lightly patted the woman’s hand, answering, “Yes, sir that’s right. Her twin sister was murdered when they were both fourteen years old. A year and a half later, Jonas Hartman was convicted of being a serial-killer. Jillian was the oldest of his five victims.”
The woman looked exhausted, and began a slow rhythmic rocking, striving to calm herself. She sat alongside the well-dressed man talking to the doctor. She knew they were talking about her and she heard their words, but it all seemed incorrect. Those things were out of context, she told herself; they had to be.
Doctor March summarized George’s wife’s situation, “Olivia had been diagnosed even before that event. This latest episode seems to have come on the anniversary of Jillian’s loss as a way of trying to cope or make sense of it, and somehow give everything else some kind of meaning. To be perfectly honest Mr. Henson I am not sure if this decline will be reversible. Her thoughts are in constant disarray – like all of the neglected house work you observed first hand. Like Autism, she’s living in another world of her own making, but everything is splintered together.”
George gave an almost bored sigh of his own. Her husband had heard all this before and he was aware of her disorder, but one thing kept nagging at him, “I suppose that ‘makes sense’ seeing that a serial killer doesn’t have remorse and she must have wanted this version of him to kill himself. But, Doctor, if I can ask, what is a ‘Planchette’? Olivia kept muttering it over and over, while slapping herself.”
He smiled at the quiet woman who sat with the blank expression, and then said as a matter of information, “It’s a French word that means ‘little plank’. A Planchette is the devise that players rest their fingers on when using a Ouija Board. It is just another symptom of her disorganized thoughts. The Planchette and even the journal itself, they were all just delusions of her schizophrenia, Mr. Henson. A part of her internal coping mechanism, nothing more than that I’m afraid to say.”
CONTINUE Reading... 11
_____________________________________________ From the beginning... HERE
X
_____________________________________
The diary and all its dead secrets were too much for Jillian Henson. Her overwhelmed emotions were on the verge of breaking. The next morning Jillian gathered her things and stuffed the journal into her purse. She sighed aloud as she closed the door on her living room, “I suppose there won’t be any more visits after all, Olivia.” Jillian finally accepted the fact that she needed help in putting her past behind her in order to move forward.
Twenty minutes later and she was leaving her parked car. Entering the Lonnieville Police Department was like barging into the bustle of a hornet’s nest. Her thoughts were whirling as much as the pounding anxiety in her chest was escalating. Blue uniforms were scrambling back and forth in the white office. Behind the raised desk in front of her sat an older man who looked like he could have easily been chewing on a fat cigar. Without even looking up he grunted at her approaching, “Yep?”
Holding the journal up in the air, Jillian suddenly went pale, “I – I would like to report a murder.”
All heads in the house turned in her direction as the bustle came to a grinding halt. The desk sergeant looked up for the first time that day, “Say again…?”
It was George. It – was George. George was there, and very much alive and well. He was sitting in an office chair beside her, wearing his usual suit and blue tie that he wore as an Insurance agent. Acting like nothing was wrong, as though he had been sitting there the entire time.
In that very moment of seeing him smiling at her, Jillian asked him with the most angelic expression, “Did you know that God really has the face of a red Horney Toad, George?”
“What?”
“What,” She asked just as confused?
Though George was looking at her, his voice was replying to the man beyond her, “I loved her long before I even proposed marriage, and I have never regretted our time together since.” Yet, a second later and his expression began to melt into one of utter confusion as he added, “When – I came home from an out-of-town business trip, what I found looked like her whole world had crumbled apart. The stovetops were left on, the counters and both sinks were piled with ever dirty dish in the apartment. The water was running in the bath tub without a stopper, dog feces and urine were everywhere under the kitchen table, and both of Spencer’s bowls were empty. When I came in the house Spencer never got up to greet me; the dog was lying next to her, whimpering. Olivia was sitting on the floor in front of the couch with her arms wrapped about her legs rocking back and forth.” George shook his head, and looked directly at the police officer, “I am telling you, Doctor March I was seriously overwhelmed, and I’m still scared for her safety.”
The woman looked like her head was going to explode from all the conversation; Jillian turned back to face the police officer, but instead now saw the same man sitting on a stool with a laptop on a side-counter. His white lab coat was draped with a black and silver stethoscope. Jillian’s vision skipped a beat like a video missing frames. Her thoughts were scattered and she struggled to piece things together.
The Doctor somehow appeared less grim to her than he did a moment before. He looked at his patience saying, “It is very sad and unsettling to hear that Olivia has regressed after she had been making so much progress. George, you mentioned earlier before, that she lost her new job. Well, we can get an emergency court order to have her admitted today. We’ll keep her here for observation. But you need to know it will take some time before she will get to her baseline state as before.”
Doctor March looked the woman directly in her eyes and asked, as she began twirling her red-hair about a finger, “Can you explain how you came to think of George as the serial killer, Olivia?”
Olivia answered with a bored tone, “Of course George is not a serial killer. But that lady walking her dog in my field, I’m not too sure about. It’s like – removing all the bolts from the hub of a wheel, and replacing a flat tired with the good, and then putting each one of the nuts back on in a star formation. That’s how my father showed me how to leave the water running.”
The Doctor shot a glance to George, then after making a notation on his computer, asked his wife pointedly, “Do you realize that you are Olivia, and not you’re sister Jillian?”
Still twirling her finger about her teased hair, she began to laugh with a straight face, “Of course I realize that. My parents always got us confused because of our red hair. Dad said he knew it was me because I seldom smiled. It makes my head hurt to realize such things now, even the people in that little house are crying from my head aching so much.”
March and George both turned to see where she was pointing; they saw a sketch of the University on the diploma where the doctor had earned his degree.
The woman’s eyes dashed back and forth in-between their thinking faces. She really did wonder if it was the first time they had ever noticed the tiny people on the wall diplomas or if they were just testing her. The white coat man glanced over at his computer screen, then added, “I’ve been looking over her medical records and family history, a – Doctor Kremer noted that Olivia was actually the first responder on the scene to find her sister Jillian. The trauma of seeing that the killer had not buried her like the others must have cemented the onset of her condition.”
George lightly patted the woman’s hand, answering, “Yes, sir that’s right. Her twin sister was murdered when they were both fourteen years old. A year and a half later, Jonas Hartman was convicted of being a serial-killer. Jillian was the oldest of his five victims.”
The woman looked exhausted, and began a slow rhythmic rocking, striving to calm herself. She sat alongside the well-dressed man talking to the doctor. She knew they were talking about her and she heard their words, but it all seemed incorrect. Those things were out of context, she told herself; they had to be.
Doctor March summarized George’s wife’s situation, “Olivia had been diagnosed even before that event. This latest episode seems to have come on the anniversary of Jillian’s loss as a way of trying to cope or make sense of it, and somehow give everything else some kind of meaning. To be perfectly honest Mr. Henson I am not sure if this decline will be reversible. Her thoughts are in constant disarray – like all of the neglected house work you observed first hand. Like Autism, she’s living in another world of her own making, but everything is splintered together.”
George gave an almost bored sigh of his own. Her husband had heard all this before and he was aware of her disorder, but one thing kept nagging at him, “I suppose that ‘makes sense’ seeing that a serial killer doesn’t have remorse and she must have wanted this version of him to kill himself. But, Doctor, if I can ask, what is a ‘Planchette’? Olivia kept muttering it over and over, while slapping herself.”
He smiled at the quiet woman who sat with the blank expression, and then said as a matter of information, “It’s a French word that means ‘little plank’. A Planchette is the devise that players rest their fingers on when using a Ouija Board. It is just another symptom of her disorganized thoughts. The Planchette and even the journal itself, they were all just delusions of her schizophrenia, Mr. Henson. A part of her internal coping mechanism, nothing more than that I’m afraid to say.”
CONTINUE Reading... 11
_____________________________________________ From the beginning... HERE
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