Books of the Dead (2 page)

Merly noticed the university campus was unusually empty that evening. She blamed it on the weather. It was cold outside, but that is how it was most evenings. The mornings were sunny and bright and just a light sweater was needed to provide enough warmth. The nights grew cold, and students preferred to stay indoors.

While walking down the path, she traveled down memory lane. She was a curious child, but not determined enough to take up criminology as her graduation subject. Then she remembered the face of her old neighbor, Mrs. Nigela, and thought about how she was here because of her. Merly was young when the incidents happened, but somehow she remembers it like it was yesterday.

She noticed that she had walked far enough, almost to the end of the university campus. The park benches on the side looked alluring and she decided to relax before heading back to the confinements of her room. The cool breeze allowed her to unwind and she looked to her right. She saw a couple sitting on one of the park benches, and to her left, someone sat alone like her. She strained her eyes towards the individual sitting on the furthest corner of the park bench and noticed it was Andrew Stevenson, Mr. Stevenson’s 26 year old son, who was a little slow, ran small errands for the university campus. His mother took care of him most of the time. The entire family stayed in staff quarters on campus, along with their dog, Miu. Merly noticed Miu walking up to his master.
They must have come here for a walk
, she said to herself as she sat on the bench.

Her face was illuminated by the soft light of the moonlight. Miu was hopping gleefully around her master and occasionally paused to lick his feet. Merly smiled at the dog’s antics. Miu barked loudly a few times. Merly found Mrs. Stevenson walking towards the park looking for her son. She saw a slight interaction between mother and son and they then walked off together.

Merly had noticed Mrs. Stevenson a couple of times on the campus, but today she practically reminded her of her former neighbor, Mrs. Nigela, in her old town of Anacoco, Louisiana. The quaint little town was beautiful. Merly’s house overlooked a small lake, and just beside their family home was Mrs. Nigela’s house. Peaceful and quiet, Merly used to spend most of her time sitting on her neighbor’s porch while her mother did chores.

Mrs. Nigela was in her seventies, and her husband had died a few years ago. Her children lived in the city. Merly remembered exploring her house and asking questions. At that age, she always wondered if the old woman ever got bored living all alone; however, at this age, she realized staying alone was not all that bad. Her neighbor had all sorts of stories to tell, and Merly loved listening to them. They were fairy tales of mysteries, stories about lost lands and victories, about knights in shining armor, brave queens who fought for their land to revenge seeking ghosts and naughty trolls, and Merly was intensely intrigued by them. Sometimes she wanted to fight one of the characters, and another time, she wanted to be one of them. Merly urged Mrs. Nigela to repeat her stories and as kind as Mrs. Nigela was, she always used to comply with the little girl’s demands.

Mrs. Nigela lovingly called her Merly, and Merly was not just fond of her stories, but of the dear lady herself. Every weekend, Merly used to look forward to Mrs. Nigela’s freshly baked cinnamon apple pies and walnut cookies; they were her favorites. Merly recalled how they used to travel to the town market to buy supplies and how much fun they had while cooking them. Mrs. Nigela was like a grandmother Merly missed having.

Mrs. Nigela was smart, witty and funny, and taught Merly how to be brave and carefree. Then one winter, Merly and her family were out on vacation in Chicago visiting relatives. Merly was 16. When she came back home, she ran towards Mrs. Nigela’s house to greet her. However, instead of her welcoming arms right on the porch, she found five policemen standing grimly. Horrified, she ran up there, but the policemen prevented her from going in stating that it was a crime scene.

“You can’t go in there. Someone has been murdered here,” one of the policeman said.

Merly looked backed at her father with disbelief in her eyes. She could feel her legs melting. “But it is not possible,“ Merly cried out loud.

“Ma’am, are you related to the victim?” the gruff-looking policeman inquired.

Merly was too petrified to answer. She stood frozen on the ground. Her father walked up to the policemen and said, “She was our neighbor, and my daughter loved her a lot.”

“Sir, it looks like she was murdered last night,” said the policeman. “You need to come with us to the police station for some routine questions,” he added.

Merly was tormented from that day forward, and she became reserved and distressed. There was no theft at Mrs. Nigela’s house. Merly could not deal with Mrs. Nigela’s death. A suspected murderer was arrested, but the man was never convicted due to lack of conclusive evidence. The ensuing events distressed Merly further and she decided to take up criminology and fight against the violence and misfortunes that falls on innocent lives. Merly and her family left their house and a whole lot of memories to enable her to pursue a career in criminology in Chicago.

Moving into a new place and getting settled was hard for Merly. She tried to adapt to her new environment and people, but her past always came back to haunt her. At times, she wished that she had never gone on that vacation and blamed herself, and even cried at night at times. Taking up criminology at the university provided some consolation, but there was never a time when she did not think back about the events of that unfortunate day. She tried to figure out why somebody would kill an innocent old woman like Mrs. Nigela; there appeared to be no apparent reason.

Merly found some comfort in her friend, Nora, who unlike her, took up criminology for the greater good.

The incident of her neighbor, however, shook her so badly that she became extremely cautious thereafter. Since Merly began studying criminology, she swore every day to use her knowledge and expertise to catch criminals. She became more focused and determined to read “criminal minds,” and if possible, avenge the death of someone she dearly loved.

The phone in Merly’s sweater buzzed loudly, which jolted her out of her thoughts. She had been thinking too much lately, she told herself, and sighed before taking the phone out only to see that it was Nora calling. She answered the phone to let her know that she was coming back shortly. However, Nora was excited on the other end of the line.

“There is a huge parcel for you. It arrived shortly after I came in. I tried to call you, but it seems you never received it,” she said.

“Mother must have sent it, look again,” Merly replied reluctantly.

“No, you don’t understand. The packaging is old and unique. I can’t describe it to you. It cannot be from your mother. Can you come right now?” Nora asked in one single breath.

What is it about the parcel that is so important
? Merly wondered. She then checked her cell phone to see that there were indeed several missed calls from her friend.

Merly walked backed warily without thinking too much about the parcel or her friend, and decided to take the longer route while going back. As Merly passed one the university buildings, her eyes involuntarily went up and something made her stop. She thought she saw someone at one of the windows.
Who would be up at the library at this hour
? She heard another buzz on her phone and she was on her way. Merly now quickened her steps; the temperature was dipping and she decided to head back to her dorm.

Nora came rushing out when she heard those footsteps outside her door. “Merly, you must see the parcel. It’s huge and beautiful!” she exclaimed. Merly could not comprehend the reason behind Nora’s excitement. After all, it was merely a parcel. Nora dragged her friend in and showed her the reason behind her elation.

Merly stood in front of the parcel and looked at it for some time. Nora was right, her mother or father would not have sent her the parcel. It was unlike any present she had ever received. The package was indeed huge, the size of a small table and wrapped in old brown leather. There were also some writings embossed in gold threads all over. Merly examined the parcel. It did not show the name of the sender, but it was addressed to her. Her parents or her relatives never sent her anything even closely resembling the wonder before her eyes at that moment.

Puzzled, Merly wondered why someone would send her something like this. It was not like she received gifts every day, and it was neither Christmas nor her birthday.

“Merly, just open it!” Nora implored.

Merly still debated with herself, but the urge was too much and finally got the better of her. She sat down and requested Nora to bring her a pair of scissors, and she started to unravel the gems that laid hidden in the package.

“Hurry up,” Nora urged.

Merly looked up at her without saying a thing. The package was beautifully wrapped as if some treasure lay protected in it.

Merly inspected the leather wrapping, and it was extraordinary like she has never seen before. Setting it aside, she decided to open the box after breathing deeply. Merly didn’t know what to find inside. She expected nothing and everything at the same time. Merly removed the lid as Nora sat beside her with expectant eyes.

“Books? There are books in the box.” Nora released her breath and broke the silence.

Merly relaxed as well. “Were you expecting something else?” They looked at each other.

“Who would send you these books?” Nora asked.

Merly shrugged. Each book was neatly covered and they had to open one to see what contents were inside.

They were books of criminology from authors old and new, and books by modern writers to vintage editions dating back as far as 1939. Both the girls started turning the pages in a rhythmic manner. They checked out every book. The collection included books which Merly had only dreamed of holding in her hands since they were too expensive for her. Now all of a sudden, they were all hers. Merly looked at Nora delightfully, still bewildered and not knowing what to say.

“Can you believe this?” Nora asked.

“I don’t know what to say,” Merly replied. At that very moment, they found something else that astounded them. Along with books of criminology, there were books of necromancy and evocation. Now that was something the girls did not expect and there was more than one book. Several of these books were old or worn out and looked as if they were from the past; each with detailed graphic description on how to evoke spirit and souls or how to relate to them.

“This parcel cannot be for you,” Nora logically concluded. “You don’t even believe in ghosts or spirits.”

“But the package had my name on it.” Merly was confused, although it was true that she did not believe in life after death or spirits or ghosts. She deduced everything with science and believed there was always a logical explanation for everything. People who knew her were obviously aware of her beliefs. She was not afraid when her seniors in the first year at the university tried to scare her at the university terrace. Merly was never afraid to go anywhere alone or scared of the dark for that matter. She worked for long hours by herself in the library and went places without anyone’s company. Therefore, this turn of events perplexed her greatly.

Merly was at her wits end and tried to figure out who the sender could be. Both the girls turned the pages of the books to find any clue that would lead them to the sender, but it was of no avail.

Merly was looking frantically when she heard Nora say, “Spirits, hear my cry, I summon you from the other side to come to me and cross the great divide.”

“What are you doing?” Merly was angry.

“I was just reading a line from this book,” Nora said. She continued, “It even says that when you…” Her speech was cut off when Merly snatched the book from her hand and slammed it against the floor. “Nora, not in our room,” she said. “You don’t know how these things work and I don’t believe in them, so stop it.”

“I did not mean to offend you, but, Merly, are you so sure that you understand everything? There are a lot of things beyond our understanding and cannot be explained by logic alone, so why negate them completely?”

“Nora, you and I have been friends for too long, so don’t tell me this now, and what you said was extremely cliché.” Merly hated being lectured by her friend.

“And ghosts and spirits are only good to read in stories,” Merly said to lighten the situation.

“Let’s store these away and eat. We can ask the dean tomorrow and donate these to the library,” Merly said.

“I am not hungry, I’ll be off for the night.” Nora passed the offer and went out of the room without looking back.

Merly never meant to be rude to her friend and she hated herself for treating her that way. What she could not tell Nora was that even when she boldly claimed her disbelief in ghosts, at times, she felt the presence of Mrs. Nigela, who also appeared in her nightmares. Merly also didn’t tell her friend of how her dreams ended, that she was running towards the library through an endless corridor only for the door to be opened by Mrs. Nigela. Her deathly pale face shone bright against the thundering lights and skeleton hands reaching for her. She heard sounds of a grave being dug and grass being cut, and a cold stare from Mrs. Nigela looking to devour her. The feeling was unsettling and Merly purposefully avoided this part, because going back in the past made her vulnerable and upset and she didn’t want to appear like that.

The sight of the pile of books on the corner of the room intimidated Merly and made her nauseated. She stored the food away and decided to retire for the night.

Merly couldn’t sleep a wink that night. She tossed and turned with events from the day fully occupying her mind. She felt that the nightmares would return the moment she closed her eyes and that made her stare blankly at the ceiling.

Her bedside clock showed 12:00 a.m. and for Merly, it was an eternity. She felt that time was playing a rude game with her. She turned to her side and closed her eyes, and could hear her friend’s heavy breathing. At times like these, she envied her friend, who was sleeping peacefully as if without a care in the world. Merly could feel her own heartbeats, and was sensitive to every little sound. Even a slight flutter of the curtain made her uneasy, and for the first time in many years, she was afraid.