Poppies

Startled awake by Joanna’s screams, Chad woke to see his wife being stabbed to death by her own brother. At first he didn’t know who the assailant was, only that he wouldn’t stop plunging his knife into Joanna’s already bloodied body.

  Chad leapt from the bed, terrified. He yelled out for the intruder to stop, but the man seemed unable to hear him, intent on his job of viciously slashing Joanna. Quickly scanning the room Chad grabbed a crystal vase off of the dresser and smashed it on the back of the aggressor’s head. He dropped like a log to the ground.

  Chad rushed to the silent Joanna. Her body was riddled with stab wounds, each gushing with fresh blood. She made no noise as he knelt down beside her bloody form. A sob escaped his mouth as he looked at Joanna’s blue quivering lips.

  “Joanna, hold on baby, hold on,” Chad trembled. She nodded and looked to the door.

  “The children,” she mouthed.

  Chad turned to the bedroom door. Jena and Charles stood huddled together in the corner across the hall. They had heard their mother’s screams and had rushed to her rescue only to witness her being stabbed to death. Horrified, they hid together in the corner, crying as they clung to one another, not knowing what to do.

  “Jena, run next door and get help! Tell them to get an ambulance and fast!” Chad yelled with panic in his voice. He knew he was frightening the children more than they already were, but his mind was focused only on saving

  Joanna.

  Jena sat frozen in the corner, clutching a crying Charles tightly. Her face was a mask of fear. She had just witnessed her mother being stabbed. It would be a sight she would never forget for the rest of her life.

  “Jena! For Christ’s sakes, go now, before your mother bleeds to death!” Chad hollered, cradling Joanna’s head in his arms.

  Jena jumped up, still holding onto Charles’ hand and ran down the stairs and out the front door, dragging her weeping little brother with her.

  Chad peered down on his wife’s pale face. Her green eyes were beginning to glaze over. He smoothed back her light brown hair and kissed her bloody forehead.

  “Hang on, babe. The kids have gone for help.” Chad choked, full of emotion.

  Joanna looked bad. He could no longer tell where the stab wounds were, because her whole body was covered in blood.

  She began to choke, spitting up blood from her blue, shivering lips. She tried to speak.

  “Don’t speak, save your energy,” Chad said, smoothing back her blood soaked hair.

  “Why?” she mouthed a wet sound coming from the back of her throat.

  “Don’t think about it. Just stay calm until we get some help here.” Chad raised Joanna’s head on top of his lap. It felt limp and heavy. “You have to stay still until help comes. Do you hear me? I can’t lose you. Jena and Charles can’t lose you.”

  A drunken moan came from the floor. Chad looked down at the man who had turned his life upside down in a matter of minutes. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was Alan-Michael.

  “You son of a bitch!” he said, gently placing down Joanna’s head and turning on Alan-Michael. Chad began to beat the slumped form with all his might. Pounding Alan-Michael into unconsciousness. He couldn’t help himself. All

  he kept thinking of were Joanna’s screams as Alan-Michael stabbed her over and over again.

  “Chad,” the bubbly voice called weakly from the bed.

  Chad looked up from the beaten piece of meat that had been Alan-Michael and went to his pale wife. The blood was starting to congeal and the flesh he could see was bleached white.

  “Hold on, Joanna!” he begged, feeling her slip away from him. “I can’t live without you. You’re my life.” He bent his head clutching her hand in his own. It was ice cold with a bluish tinge to it. “Please!”

  “I...love . . . you . . .” she said thickly through blood stained teeth. “Never . . . doubt that.” Her hand went limp in his grasp and Chad felt the life run out of her.

  “No,” he sobbed in an anguished wail, pressing her frozen fingers to his lips. “Noooooooo!”

  Joanna was dead and Alan-Michael had killed her.

  When the ambulance and police arrived, they found Chad still clinging to his dead wife’s hand and Alan-Michael unconscious on the floor beside them.

  Later at the hospital, Alan-Michael awoke from his coma, babbling rubbish.

  Jobeth, mortified, had gone to her son’s room demanding to know if it were true.

  Did he kill Joanna?

  She stood pale and trembling, unable to show any emotion. This could not be happening to her. Of all the things that had happened in Jobeth’s life, this was by far the worst.

  “Alan-Michael?” she called, looking at the stranger lying on the hospital cot. “What have you done?” She was unable to control the shaking in her voice.

  “I sent the devil back to hell, Ma. We can all go back to the way things were now. The she-bitch is dead,” Alan-Michael snarled viciously, insanity visible behind his words.

  “Do you even know what you have done?” Jobeth raised her voice. Images of Jena’s and Charles’ haunted faces filled her mind. The sight of her two grandchildren sitting with their father, holding on to him for dear life, suffocated Jobeth. She felt she couldn’t breathe. “Do you realize Joanna is dead?” The moment the words were out of her mouth, Jobeth felt a curdling moan escape her throat. She cried out in grief for the daughter she had just lost and the horror in how she died.

  Alan, red-eyed, came charging into Alan-Michael’s room in time to catch the collapsing Jobeth into his arms. He held Jobeth firmly, her body and his own grief weighing him down. They both fell slowly to the ground, overwhelmed by sorrow.

  “Alan . . . He’s craaazzy,” Jobeth wailed, pounding Alan on the chest. Alan could do nothing but cry openly into her arms. “He admits it, Alan. Our son admits to killing his sister. What have we created? What kind of monster would kill his own sister in cold blood and have no remorse over it? What, Alan? What have we done?”

  They held each other tightly, both unable to contain their raw emotions.

  Alan-Michael lay confused on the gurney, not comprehending his parents’ behavior.

  “Stop it, Ma, Pa! Stop it! What are you crying for? What’s the matter?”

  He tried to get up to go to them on the floor, but found that his arms were handcuffed to the bars of the bed. He pulled at his arms to free them, making sick, clanking sounds.

  “Let me go!” Alan-Michael hollered, confused.

  An orderly came running into the room, followed by two police officers.

  Seeing the scene before them, sedatives were ordered for Alan-Michael and his parents.

  Alan-Michael was admitted to a hospital for the criminally insane, without hope of ever leaving the institute alive. Jobeth had gone to the head administrator of the hospital and had informed them of her son’s mental health. Under no circumstances was Alan-Michael ever to leave the hospital facilities.

  He was a prisoner, sentenced to life.

  They stood in two groups huddled together beside the open grave. One group included the parents and sisters, the other group, her husband and children.

  Shawna and Oliver left with the rest of the mourners, leaving the immediate family alone to say their good-byes.

  Both groups couldn’t hold back the wave of tears that fell freely from their souls. How could such a tragedy happen?

  Jobeth clung to Alan’s chest, unable to look at the gaping hole that was to be her daughter’s permanent resting place.

  “How did this happen?” She sobbed uncontrollably. “How?” Alan couldn’t answer Jobeth as he clung tightly to her for support. His heart was breaking inside for the daughter and son he’d lost. Never would he be the same again.

  He couldn’t grasp the fact that he had lost his daughter at the hands of his own son. All he could think of was what he could have done to prevent this massacre from happening. If only he could have seen it coming, he could have saved both Joanna and Alan-Mic
hael.

  Constance, unable to stand seeing her mother so filled with grief began to leave the devastating scene. She couldn’t stand to witness the events taking place. She had just gotten Joanna back. Now she was putting her into the cold ground, forever gone from their family.

  Mara-Joy watched Constance flee and bubbled with rage. How dare she leave the family at a time like this? Could she not see that their parents needed the two of them more than anything now? Pauline was still in Africa, unable to return in time for the funeral, though she was making arrangements to come home as soon as possible for a short stay. Frederick, who was becoming more than just a friend and co-worker, was accompanying the devastated Pauline to her family. He didn’t want to let her go back to the life she once led, and Pauline had no plans to ever return after she paid her respects to her sister. The memories were too painful and life too wonderful in Africa to want to linger anywhere she felt pain.

  That left only Mara-Joy and Constance; and it was plain to see that Constance was going to be of no help.

  Mara-Joy fastened her mink coat tightly around her collar, desperately wanting a cigarette. She felt terrible.

  Her eyes were swollen nearly shut from all the crying she had done and seemed to continue doing. She hadn’t even bothered with any makeup to hide her bad appearance. She just didn’t have the energy to make herself presentable. Larry did not know what to do and had called Dr. Avery. He’d never seen Mara-Joy so distraught before. He knew she was close to her brother, but she had always claimed to hate the sister who had died. Frightened, he asked Dr. Avery to help Mara-Joy, which he did by sedating her. It had helped, but had by no means cured Mara-Joy of her sorrow.

  Mara-Joy was grieving. Grieving for the brother she had loved all her life and the sister she should have. She had not expected to feel the way she did over the death of Joanna. She actually felt a yearning to tell Joanna that she had forgiven her for stealing Chad from her. But it was too late for it all now, and that saddened Mara-Joy the most.

  She looked across the grave at Chad as he stood grasping his small children close to him. He looked horrible. His face was crumpled with grief and he looked older than she remembered.

  Placing a gloved hand on her small mound of a stomach, Mara-Joy took a deep breath and walked over to the bereaved Chad. He stood clutching his children tightly to him. The little girl could not stop crying into his hip, while the boy stood solemnly and eerily still.

  Mara-Joy pressed her lips tightly together. She had never seen Chad and Joanna’s children before. They were beautiful. The girl, Jena, looked like their side of the family. She had the olive catlike eyes, with blonde soft curls like Constance’s. Charles, the boy, he was the spitting image of Chad: a handsome boy with light mahogany hair and chestnut eyes.

  Mara-Joy’s breath escaped her and a throbbing sensation developed in her throat.

  These were her sister’s children. These two darling children were her niece and nephew.

  “Chad.” Mara-Joy mumbled, her fingertips lightly brushing her quivering lips. Her lips expelled words before she knew she was going to speak.

  Chad looked up from his distraught children. His face white with shock and grief drained of the little color he had left as he began to register Mara-Joy’s presence.

  “What do you want?” his voice stung with venom. Jena and Charles cowered behind his legs, confused by their father’s hostility.

  Mara-Joy bent her head low, understanding Chad’s reaction to her. After all, she had made it clear to Joanna that she would never be forgiven by Mara-Joy. There had been no love lost between the two for some time.

  “I just wanted to say how sorry I am for you and the children,” she said, peering at the two terrorized youngsters concealed behind their father. Little hands clutched the hem of Chad’s coat tightly. “Despite everything that has happened, Joanna was my sister and I am horrified by the events that have transpired.”

  Chad looked at Mara-Joy in disbelief. His mouth fell open and his ashen face began to show red spots, beginning under his shirt collar and creeping up his neck.

  “How dare you,” he said in a calm voice. “How dare you come and stand at my wife’s grave and say you are sorry for me and my children’s loss? You, of all people.”

  Mara-Joy looked at Chad, bewildered, her heart beating madly in her chest, banging relentlessly against her rib cage.

  “Chad, it is time to bury the hatchet. I realize Joanna and I should have resolved things sooner, but—“

  “Resolve things sooner?” Chad said incredulously, “You have got to be kidding. Do you really believe the crap that comes out of your mouth?”

  Mara-Joy clamped her mouth shut and breathed deeply through her nose.

  She could sense everyone looking at her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see her parents in the background. They stood silently, holding onto each other, watching Mara-Joy from a distance.

  “Chad, I am trying to tell you I forgive you and Joanna,” Mara-Joy said through clenched teeth. “I understand now that you two loved each other and didn’t mean to hurt me in the process.”

  Chad began to laugh a sickly, cackling, sobbing laugh. His hand clasped his forehead open-palmed and roughly pulled back his bronzed hair from his wrinkled brow.

  “You forgive us?” he said, unable to digest what Mara-Joy had said. “You forgive us for what we did to you? You have got to be kidding me.”

  “I assure you I am not kidding in the least,” Mara-Joy said. Unable to refrain from smoking any longer, she pulled out her cigarette and lit it, blowing out a puff of white smoke.

  “Well,” Chad’s hands flew into the air dramatically, “everything is just swell now that Mara-Joy has forgiven Joanna and me.”

  “Chad, your behavior is inappropriate. Think of your children. They have been through enough already without you frightening them also,” Mara-Joy said before inhaling deeply from her cigarette. A dull ache was beginning to form in the pit of her abdomen and she was becoming tired of this display with Chad. If he couldn’t accept her forgiveness, than that was fine. She had enough for one day. All she wanted to do was go home and lie down for a while.

  Chad swung on Mara-Joy like a jackrabbit.

  “My children have been through what?” He leaned in close to Mara-Joy, looking into her sapphire eyes with hatred.

  A chill of fear ran up Mara-Joy’s spine and she felt the urge to bolt away from Chad and his repellent eyes. He grabbed Mara-Joy harshly by the shoulders and began to shake her savagely. Mara-Joy’s head rolled back and forth painfully on her neck.

  “My children watched their mother being stabbed to death by a madman. A madman you helped create out of hate and revenge against Joanna. They watched in horror as their father could do nothing to save their mother from this psychopath who had invaded their home and their lives.”

  Alan grabbed Chad around the shoulders and yelled at him to stop. Chad released Mara-Joy and pushed her away. Jena and Charles were now held protectively in Jobeth’s arms, sobbing.

  “You!” Chad pointed with all his might at Mara-Joy who stood, rattled and confused. Her neck hurt and her body was beginning to break down. She was weak in the knees and felt she might faint.

  “You are the reason Joanna is dead in that grave. You are the reason those two children no longer have a mother.” Chad gestured to the open grave and the two horrified children in Jobeth’s arms.

  “You poisoned your brother against Joanna and you have been doing it for years!”

  “No, it is not true!” Mara-Joy protested with fear in her voice. It couldn’t be true. “Alan-Michael is sick. What he did to Joanna had nothing to do with me. I would never kill my own sister!”

  “Don’t you see that you did!” Chad said, feeling defeated, his voice full of emotion. He couldn’t bear the thought of Joanna gone. “You corrupted your brother. You were the one who had the most influence on him, Mara-Joy. It was you. You killed my wife and our unborn child.”

&n
bsp; “No.” Mara-Joy said, wanting to run. “I didn’t have anything to do with Alan-Michael killing Joanna.”

  Jobeth began to wail painfully. Hearing her two children’s names together was too excruciating. She held Joanna’s children tightly to her chest, afraid to let them go for fear she would lose them too.

  Mara-Joy ignored her mother’s cries. Her mind was occupied with the last memories of Alan-Michael leaving her house the night Joanna was killed. She shook her head.

  “Nooo,” she said, she knew she had shared her hatred of Joanna with Alan-Michael and sometimes she had gone a little too far with her anger, but she hadn’t wanted him to kill her. “I am not responsible for Joanna’s death.”

  Chad shook his head subdued. “You can say whatever you want to make yourself sleep better at night, Mara-Joy; but that will never change the truth. You helped drive your brother insane, and you helped him kill Joanna.” He turned away from Mara-Joy’s protest and retrieved his children from a shattered Jobeth. Without looking back, he walked away holding on to each child’s hand.

  Mara-Joy ran to her mother who sat on her hind legs gawking into space.

  Alan went and placed a hand on Jobeth’s shoulder. Neither one could believe what was happening to their family.

  “Mama!” Mara-Joy begged, crouching down to Jobeth’s

  vacant gaze. “Mama, please, it isn’t true! Tell Chad it is not true! I didn’t do the things he said.”

  Jobeth’s eyes flickered for a moment, but didn’t focus on Mara-Joy’s frantic face. She stood up slowly, putting her arm around Alan’s waist and resting her head on his shoulder. Alan wrapped his arm protectively around Jobeth’s back and gently kissed the top of her head.

  “Mama?” Mara-Joy said, distraught. Jobeth and Alan’s backs were turned towards her.

  “Take me home, Alan,” Jobeth voice said vacantly. Alan nodded and they began to walk away without a glance back.

  Mara-Joy stood watching her parents leave in disbelief. Her abdomen tightened and instinctively she placed her hand over her small mound to settle it. She stood, alone, frozen to the ground, eyes resting on Joanna’s open grave.

  “I am not to blame,” she said out loud. “I’m not.”

  Chapter 48 –