The Tree Goddess Read online

  Thankfully, the furnace had been repaired which meant the unmentionable calling from the grave was no longer heard. And for the thing hidden in the closet, perhaps it was time for Stephanie to finally get rid of it. She thought of visiting Brad's grave and somehow burying it nearby. But then his eyes would most likely be felt along with a silent persuasion to confess to her horrific crime. Burying it under the dead tree trunk where he had lost it would be the next best thing. But again, Brad's presence would most likely be felt in the whisper of trees or the sounds of animals that stirred in the forest. Probably the best thing to do would be to whip it out her car window on Creek Highway, and let nature bury it. But what if a hiker discovered it? Stephanie's DNA was all over the thing and… Well, it was certainly no easy task to get rid of body part!

  Some time passed as Stephanie took a relaxing shower, slipped into a comfy nightgown and replaced the lights with the glow of an autumn-scented candle. Halloween was less than 30 days away, and the time was near to drag out the decorations and prepare for trick-or-treaters. Soon the orange, purple and green glows of Halloween decorations would illuminate quiet evening moments alone.

  Stephanie sat down with her cherished cup of hot cocoa, listening to the sounds of treasured silence. At the other end of the house, Sean was halfway in slumber as he experienced an interruption of his peaceful rest with one of those unpleasant nightmares that are incomprehensible to a logical mind.

  A ticking noise could be heard in the dream, similar to that of a pocket watch. Along with this, a large boulder drew closer to Sean's face with every tick until he shook out of his sleep in a desperate attempt to avoid getting hit. Now awake and distressed from the bad dream, Sean quickly rolled out of bed in a simultaneous hop to the floor with a full intention to run towards Mommy for comfort.

  But Mommy could be heard from the family room, making bloodcurdling screams. The terror of the nightmare and the now reality that Mommy was in danger overwhelmed the little boy in a pendulum that swung from one fear to the next. Her screams grew softer as Sean approached the family room. And upon finally reaching the place where Mommy was supposed to be, he only discovered the glass, patio door open which allowed the cold, night air in.

  Mommy was out there! Under normal circumstances, a terrified boy who was under the influence of hypnagogia would never enter the night world alone. But the light of his world had escaped outside, and the need to find her increased with every second of desperation.

  The small boy ran out into the night crying in a panic, “Mommy? Mommy? Mommy?” The cold, autumn air ripped through his pajamas. Instinctively, he followed the concrete patio onto the small sidewalk that led to the driveway. Down the driveway he ran where he turned left and followed the neighborhood sidewalk, all the while calling out for Mommy.

  4 doors down, Mrs. Stanhill pulled into her own driveway where she took sight of the small boy. The poor child was in need of comfort and possibly in danger. Mrs. Stanhill called out, “Sean?”

  Being a familiar face in the neighborhood with the ability to be nurturing, Sean collided and embraced the woman. Tears and mucus were wiped against her coat.

  “Sean, Honey, what are you doing out here?” Needless to say, Mrs. Stanhill concluded something tragic had happened and was affected by the child's anxiety.

  “My Mommy is gone!”

  “She's gone?”

  * * *

  Pulling into the neighborhood on a Monday morning after a long night from his job, it was necessary for Frank to park his car some houses away as numerous police cars and other emergency vehicles crowded the street near his home. He ran up to the house as any startled spouse would and yelled out to the police officer who greeted him, “What's going on? I live here! This is my house!”

  The children were okay, but the house was now a crime scene that was taped off by police line barricades. Stephanie was missing. And the evidence inside that remained suggested foul play. This was one morning that Frank would be unable to drown the sorrows of his night job over half-dozen or more beers.

  Inside, Detectives Tom and Larry evaluated the only evidence available: muddy shoe prints that led from the corn field to the inside of the house; a scented candle that now burned near the bottom; and a cup of cocoa that had been spilled on the carpeting, cup laying on its side.

  These sights along with the information supplied by the little boy, Sean, led Detective Tom to state the obvious. “Well, there's no denying it; the patio door was left unlocked and the intruder surprised her by coming in. She didn't get far.”

  This conclusion was made from the story told by the muddy foot prints. They showed exactly where in the family room Stephanie had been taken and showed the struggle as she was removed from her home. And the cup that lay on its side had been further knocked into and rolled to another area of the floor as it didn't lie near the stain of cocoa. Stephanie had been dragged out the patio door, back into the cornfield (or should be called “soybean field” as the farmer alternated soy and corn each year) and then dragged about a half-block to where the field met road.

  In avoiding barefoot contact with cold, wet grass; Sean followed the patio sidewalk to the driveway. Had he turned the opposite direction, he might have seen his mother being dragged off! No blood found in her path of dragging, the question remained if Stephanie was still alive. Police were already questioning neighbors of any unusual activity in the previous evening hours.

  Suddenly, a voice emerged at the entrance of the room. “Detective Tom, Larry; gentlemen, I think you need to see this.” An investigative force had been searching Frank and Stephanie's home for any clues. The most startling and bizarre discovery had been found in the bedroom closet, on the shelf, behind a collection of boxes. Detectives Tom and Larry followed the lead into the bedroom where an open shoe box sat on the dresser. Inside the box was the preserved part that had been taken from Brad nearly a decade ago.

  And let that be a lesson to the reader: Most of us will never murder or have gruesome secrets hiding in our closets. But do dispose of unwanted items wished not to be found when you are gone. Imagine the faces and reactions of your loved ones!

  Part Three: Hello?

  Chapter 21

  Mapleview Road is the main road that travels through town. It runs north and south, beginning from the southerly border, but eventually curves east just beyond the Hidden Lake Forest Preserve where it travels past Hotlicks Sports Bar and Grill and crosses Creek Highway. From there it changes its name to Route 4 where the road stretches towards Sillmac.

  Homes located north of downtown Mapleview are often historical (such as the Trivelli house). Although there are two newer subdivisions in the mostly historic area of Mapleview, the older homes of this section do not belong to any particular subdivision. These are embedded along the heavily wooded region as if they were part of the forest preserves.

  Maple Sap was one of the first official subdivisions of the area which is located in downtown Mapleview. But just as any city or town, new neighborhoods are created which offer bigger and better homes. Circle Point would have been the 2nd official subdivision that was part of Mapleview. Known for its main drive that circles along the neighborhood, there are 4 streets that dissect the area encompassed by Circle Drive. And what makes this particular neighborhood interesting is the fact that single-family homes are located on the west side of the dissecting streets while duplexes run on the east side. All residences that sit on Circle Drive are exclusively single-family homes.

  This is the neighborhood where Sara lived, a young woman who rightfully earned the recognition as a contributor to the mass development and improvement to Mapleview's economy. For decades the area was one of those independent, small towns with nothing more than some basic stores, a couple of churches, schools, necessary places of business and other municipal offices. Aside from that, nothing was in Mapleview! There was no reason to even travel through the town on vacation, outside of stopping for fuel and a quick bite to eat. But then a great transformat
ion took place which suddenly gave Mapleview the appearance of being the ideal vacation spot. Surrounded by deep wilderness, it now serves as an oasis of every shop, restaurant and luxury. Why wouldn't people want to visit?

  Aside from a 4 year stay at an out-of-state university, Sara lived in Mapleview her entire life. And once-upon-a-time, she lived in the area north of downtown where, as a little girl, she could safely peddle her bike to the Hidden Lake Forest Preserve. And she remembered with clarity the tunnel that had once been blocked by chain link on both sides.

  A roaring stream, likened to a small river, rolls through the center of Hidden Lake Forest Preserve as it joins with the small lake. Some decades ago, improvements had been done to route the water and prevent flooding to the walking trails. A large hole, 8 feet in diameter, was carved through a large ravine and filled with a concrete tunnel so that the water could be channeled from the natural stream and guided under the ravine. To prevent possible transfer of debris from one area of the forest to another, chain link was cemented to both sides of the tunnel. This unnecessary blockade had been removed some years later, as it only accumulated forest debris at the incoming down flow side of the tunnel; sometimes clogging the flow of water where it would rise to undesired levels. In fact, the decision to remove the chain link was driven by a very, frightening event that had residents of Mapleview outraged.

  For Sara, it was her first moment of terror experienced in life. Peddling her bike down the entrance of Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, the little girl traveled to the bank of the rolling stream with the purpose of collecting small stones and pebbles. While filling a cloth sack of her precious gems, the sensation of a rain drop could be felt on her nose. It was soon followed by a tiny rain drop that fell on her arm. Hearing thunder way off in the distance, it was easy for little Sara to conclude that rain was on the way. The darkened sky which rolled the colors of alarming danger in the horizon suggested urgency for Sara to return home. Thunder was terrifying, and it was best to seek shelter indoors and behind curtains where she could run to Mother for comfort if frightened.

  Just then, the cries of a boy nearby could be heard, “Hey! Help! Help me! I can't get out of here!”

  Pausing momentarily to look in the direction of the cries, Sara found that a boy had been trapped inside the tunnel, imprisoned behind the chain link that was cemented on the outsides. Hoping to find turtles, snakes or other reptiles, the boy managed to stand on top of the tunnel and wedge himself through a damaged part of the chain link located on top. Unfortunately, he lacked the strength to pull himself out and had been trapped for nearly 6 hours.

  Sara remained petrified for a brief moment. At such a young age, she was easily overpowered by fear and quickly raced off on her bike with raindrops spiking her face and neck throughout the short ride home. Sara left the bike in the corner of the garage and ran to the safety of her bedroom where the jewels of the pebble hunt could be inspected.

  All afternoon it rained and rained. Puddles accumulated on the sidewalks while gutters routed lakes of water into the sewers. Occasionally, the boy trapped in the tunnel appeared in Sara's imagination. But she quickly removed the thoughts with the self reminder that it wasn't her that was trapped. “Stupid boy; what was he doing in that tunnel, anyway?”

  A child's imagination forms many strange beliefs and ideas. As Mother poured glasses of water from the tap and set them on the table for dinner, the young child imagined that the stream in the woods was somehow connected to the kitchen faucet. In Sara's belief, the very water that sat in her glass had been in contact with the boy who was trapped. With all the rain, perhaps the tunnel was flooded and he had drowned.

  Drinking the water was difficult to do as the mouthfuls taken had surely been choked on by the drowning boy.

  “Drink your water Sara; it's good for you!” As always, Father expected his daughter to finish her food and drink.

  “I don't like it.”

  “You don't like it? What's wrong with it? Drink it!”

  Reluctantly, Sara finished the boy's choked-up tunnel water. The quicker she pee-ed, the better!

  At night, Sara lay in bed while hearing the rainwater trickle along the downspouts. She considered that the boy might still be alive, keeping his head up above the water which may have been near the top of the tunnel. It was only a matter of time before he finally died; then she wouldn't feel so guilty. His body would be found, but no one would be aware that Sara had seen him in the final hours, alive.

  On and on the rain water trickled; but Sara couldn't get the boy out of her head. The evening hours intensified the disturbing thoughts to the point of finally breaking down. She scampered into Mother and Father's bedroom in tears. The mumbling and crying made it impossible to understand. But through a couple minutes of listening, Mother and Father quickly interpreted that a boy may have been trapped in the drainage tunnel.

  Across town, a frantic mother who had reported her son missing received a phone call from the Mapleview police, informing her that the boy was found alive. But as a precaution, he was taken to the hospital for observation as he had been wet and cold for many hours. It was a very, close call and an outrage for the residents of Mapleview. That boy could have died, thanks to the unnecessary fence. Within 1 week, both sides of the tunnel had been removed of the chain link.

  * * *

  Spending an average of 4 years for a quality education at the university of one's choice, many people work diligently to obtain degrees ranging from business, to accounting, to engineering, to art. And in those 4 years, the plans of a highly, successful career with a large corporation are often dreamed of. Summers are spent showcasing one's talents during internships with the hopes to land a job shortly after graduating. And for many, this course of action proves successful. Oh, there are many other avenues to success; such as military, entrepreneurship, even skilled trades. But the most popular throughout America is a 4 year degree, followed by a successful career with a large company.

  Sara was different in that she did earn her 4 year degree in business management. But upon completion, she returned home to the quiet, peaceful town of Mapleview where she felt that the area was lacking one important thing.

  Being a lover and connoisseur of coffee, she spent a few months after graduation, doing research on the various coffee beans along with proper methods of brewing and the equipment required. Not long after, Sara obtained financing and leased a storefront to be called, The Mapleview Coffeehouse.

  Of course starting a small business is no easy task. For two years, Sara was the only person who manned the operation and barely earned enough sales to cover operating expenses. Mother and Father were proud of their daughter's entrepreneurial endeavor. But a 20-something, living at home for free was a bit uncomfortable to say the least.

  As luck would have it, Sara was part of a growing trend in Mapleview; a surge in businesses that bloomed along the main road of downtown Mapleview to include small shops, restaurants and outlet stores. Suddenly, Mapleview was the town to be! And upon waking early for work in the morning, or requiring a 10:30 java-jolt (or even one in the afternoon), the Mapleview Coffeehouse was known to serve the finest brew in town. Some years after its conception, Sara's business became so successful that she expanded the shop to include a small bakery, offering morning pastries to commuters or tourists who needed a quick breakfast.

  A regular customer at the Mapleview Coffeehouse, Brian appeared to visit each morning with the purpose of another greeting and possible conversation with the delightfully pleasant and very, attractive blonde who worked behind the counter. A real man likes a woman such as Sara: a rubenesque frame and well endowed. And through time he learned that Sara was the owner of the Mapleview Coffeehouse. They shared something in common. The two were business owners in downtown Mapleview as Brian operated his small insurance company just down the street.

  Was it necessary for Brian to be perfect? Is that what people ask of in a significant other, to be perfect? Some minor flaws and a bit qu
irky, he was a good-looking man and well mannered. Along with the right chemistry and that sparkle in his eyes, Brian gave quite an impression of being seriously interested in Sara.

  Dates soon followed and Sara learned of their ability to talk for long hours. She enjoyed Brian's humor and how he made her laugh. And he was so affectionate with warm embraces and passionate, yet gentle kisses. Sara was falling in love with possibly the man of her dreams. But it was too early to even talk about marriage; you know the “safety threshold of time” that many young couples imagine.

  Things were certainly on the up for Sara with her business that had flourished along with those wonderful moments of falling in love. And it was finally time to move out of Mom and Dad's house and enjoy her own place. Brian accompanied Sara to check out a duplex condo, shortly before she made an offer to purchase. He gave her reassurance that it would be a great buy. And although both remained silent while walking through bedrooms, thoughts of “the baby nursery in here” and “our marital bed in there” seemed to be dreamed simultaneously. Brian knew that Sara was the one and vice-versa.

  Chapter 22

  In adulthood, outside of acquired experiences, 5 or 6 years apart in age has little-or-no difference. In childhood, 5 or 6 years can make a world's difference. As a girl, little Sara had rarely been exposed to the older boy named Kevin who she had left for dead, trapped in the tunnel. Occasionally, she might have seen him in a car or noticed the familiar face who stocked shelves in the grocery store. Kevin was considerably older and probably didn't recognize Sara. But needless to say, Sara felt a bit uncomfortable whenever locking eyes with the person she had let down earlier in life.

  Now older in age, Sara certainly knew better and would help anyone in need. In fact, the incident so early in life had traumatized Sara to the point of obsessively answering anyone's cry for help. Some might have said that a woman like Sara was easily taken advantage of. Junkies that parked at the gas station often walked up to her, asking for a few dollars. “I'm trapped here and I can't get home.”