Books of the Dead (29 page)

“We?” Merly was quick to catch the phrase, “There is someone else along with you?”

“Who is it now? Who is it?” Merly said in between gritted teeth.

The woman in front of Merly was a ghost, but for a split second she seemed to flinch and didn’t answer back immediately.

“You are lying to me, aren’t you? There is obviously something that you are not telling me. I swear that I will not help you with anything until you tell me the entire truth, and don’t you dare try to trick me, because I not a fool and I am not scared of you either. I have seen and faced hardship and this will not stop me. I don’t care if I am having those dreams. In fact, I will let you in on a little secret. A secret that I have told no one before, but you are a ghost, and what else can you possibly do? I have nightmares all the time, since that day. The only difference is that the scenarios have changed. I see her opening the library door for me now, earlier sometimes she used to read me stories, or at times take me fishing or bake me cookies. At times, we did gardening together.” Merly giggled at the memory and although the situation didn’t call for her to be smiling, yet she did. It was like the memories of Mrs. Nigela made her incredibly happy.

“So choose your words very carefully before replying, because whether I will help you or not depends on that,” Merly threatened.

“Oh, I do like you; you want to know why you are the chosen one? Or why I like you so much? It is because you are not like the rest of them. You are so very different, so twisted and so much in pain and that is what makes you so much easier to approach. I can truly leave you in this state, Merly, but it will not help you, and it will get worse ... much worse and you won’t be able to tolerate it. However, I am not like the rest and I am here to help you. Merly, I will let you on a secret, too, I am in fact very impressed with myself for choosing you. You are powerful and intimidating. You are brilliant,” the voice said.

“You didn’t answer the question that I asked so don’t deviate. Answer me with the name of who else is on this? Who is the “we” that you spoke of before?” Merly asked backed in a bossy tone.

“Of course, there are ‘we,’ and how silly of me, because I should have told you about this before. There are others like me, Merly, out there and roaming aimlessly, desperately seeking a way out, but sadly, the reality is far from truth and you want to know why? Don’t you? It is because there is no way out. We are here and we are here to stay. Our souls are here and we need help. We need to stay, because we can’t leave and we feel crushed.” These lines which Merly heard seemed incoherent to her.

“What are you talking about? This doesn’t make sense at all, what can I do to help you?” Merly demanded to know.

“A lot if I say so … but did you realize who I am? Because I sure want to hear it from you”

Merly didn’t want to answer immediately and took a long time to make up her mind whether she wanted to reply to the question.

“Go on and tell me who I am? And what I am?” the voice urged again. Merly was not left alone a moment to formulate her own thoughts. At times during the conversation, she felt controlled, but the one sitting opposite her also looked desperate for help, so she finally gave in.

“You are the sister; you are Mr. Summer’s sister, aren’t you?” Merly probed.

“Is that a question or an answer?”

‘‘It’s an answer; you are Mr. Summers’ sister, I knew I had seen those eyes before and it is not the first time. I have seen you days before in the library and that day when I saw the spirit of the old lady librarian, but did Mr. Stevenson see you, too? Or is it just me? Does Mr. Summers know about this? What about the others? There is so much that doesn’t make any sense. What is this mystery? I don’t understand, but you are Mr. Summers’ sister, aren’t you?” Merly replied fast.

“You are always the clever little thing, aren’t you, Merly? And I am impressed at every step. You are right, because I am Mr. Summers’ sister, so look closely and you will notice the resemblance, and I don’t particularly mean our features. Isn’t he dignified? My brother was always the stronger one, doing his thing so meticulously, so diligently, so poised and as always, so hardworking. He does get emotional at times though, but you must be aware of that, but it is because he takes things way to seriously. Ah, my brother, he swore to be there for me and how I wish he could. But Merly, you know how things aren’t like you want them to be. Sad, isn’t it?” and Merly detected a melancholic tone in the voice.

There was so much change in the events and ups and downs and what she was hearing from the figure sitting in front of her that she didn’t know how to react.

“What am I supposed to say to this? I was right all along, wasn’t I? You are the sister, but … but you are dead and I am not even afraid of this. Why is this happening? Am I not supposed to be afraid of this? You are a ghost and I am talking to a ghost. Am I supposed to find this funny? Do you think that I am crazy?” Merly asked innocently and in between having the right thought and deciding what was real and what was an illusion, Merly definitely thought that she had lost her mind.

“Do you think anyone will believe me if I dare to say any of these things to them? Or would they ridicule me? They might mock me though. I heard people calling me crazy lately. They say I am speaking with myself these days and some are even saying that I am mixing with the wrong company; I don’t think that I am mixing with the wrong people. There is nothing wrong with them, but everything is wrong with me,” Merly added sadly and the figure which claimed to be Mr. Summers’ sister waited patiently for her to finish.

The changes that’s were taking place within Merly were genuine, and it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to function properly and think rationally. The chances for her to escape from the situation was so thin that giving in was the only option left for her. Although there were many puzzle pieces that didn’t fit properly, Merly, even in her unfit state, got hold of a thing or two properly. Like she immediately paralleled her situation with Mr. Stevenson’s, and although she doubted it before, she was now convinced while speaking with herself.

“Mr. Stevenson can see you. Oh, I am sure that he can see you or he can see the rest of you as well. That boy saw you, too, and you speak to Mr. Stevenson as well, don’t you? And you were the one who played him. You intentionally did this so that we would summon you and you could ask me for help in return to help me escape the situation. He knows something and that is why he is always so afraid. But why him? Why did you choose him to communicate? Is he special, too?” Merly demanded to know.

Merly was certain that she was going somewhere with her questions and she was not backing off, but what surprised her was that although indirectly, she was getting her questions answered in some twisted way. She had to be satisfied with that. Then she decided not to give up on that. She had too many loose ends to tie to back out.

“The more I talk to you, the more I am impressed. Your questions are so perfect and spot on. Were you always so intelligent? I heard it before, but now I see it, too. You can connect the dots so well. You want to know about Mr. Stevenson, but why? Is he important to you and why do you care about him so much? Ah, I know, because he treats you so nicely, and like me, he reminds you of someone, too. However, I have to confess, that you are right. I did communicate with him. Isn’t he the kindest? Look how he conveyed my message to you? I knew I could trust him. Yes, he is chosen like you and the situation was eerily similar to that of you.” Merly was listening carefully to what the voice was saying, but she decided not to react to any of the complements that were being paid to her. Merly was being repeatedly called intelligent and clever and smart, but she didn’t pay any heed to any of it.

I will listen to all of it and then decide things for myself, she thought.

“What has he got to do with this situation? And is he in this thing, too?” Merly inquired.

“He needed my help just like you and I agreed to help him, but times have changed and I don’t do things for free. He needed my help and in return I helped him. But Merly, you can’t blame him for being like this, because now I am being absolutely honest with you. I needed him to convey my message to you and he agreed to do that. There was no forcing, and the funny part is, that he wasn’t even scared. He reminds you of someone, doesn’t he?” Merly was listening hard and the last part did remind her of someone, and then it struck her hard. Mr. Stevenson was her.

The situation was so similar that it scared her, so she deduced, “Mr. Stevenson needed some kind of help, so he summoned you and in return, you asked something from him and that was that you wanted to see me. Now I want your help and you need some sort of help back from me, and though this doesn’t sound quite right, I can’t find any other explanation to this, and how all this has got something to do with the library, because this is where it all takes place. But how does Mr. Summers fit in all this?” The confusion was taking over Merly’s mind and she waited for her questions to be answered.

“You are right and also wrong, and I will tell you how,” the figure said smiling an uncanny smile.

Merly waited. “Dear Mr. Stevenson knew about us from the beginning. We never bothered him and he never interfered with us. You wouldn’t know, and all I can say is some people are gifted like that. We mutually agreed to help each other when troubles dawned on us. Now please be decent and don’t ask me what favor I did for him, because that is our secret and I cannot tell you, but by now you must know that we were in trouble and we agreed on a few things, which brings us to the current event. I did appear in front of you several times before, because I wanted you to believe that what you were seeing is not a lie, a gimmick or a joke, but it is real. I am real and in front of you and I seek your help, too.” The voice grew softer and kinder, and Merly saw no threat in that. In fact, she was intrigued to listen to the rest of the story.

“Go on then. Why did you stop? Tell me whatever I need to know ... hurry up please, I beg you.” Merly was literally pleading at this point, sure she was getting all the answers, but clearly they were not enough.

“I am Mr. Summers’ sister, but that is not what I called him and he didn’t call me that either. We had different set of names given to us by our mother and Gregory…” the voice drifted at the mention of the name.

Merly was still in a confused state and wanted to know more about Gregory and thus asked, “Gregory … who is Gregory? Are you referring to Mr. Summers?

“Yes, indeed, I am talking about him, but to me he isn’t Mr. Summers. He will always be Gregory to me, my dear older brother. I used to call him Greg lovingly, and he was the one who got me interested in all these books. I wonder why he calls himself Summers now? That was not our name. We were the Keatons and he hated summers, home work, house chores and almost no play. He even broke his leg when he was fifteen. If you observe carefully, then you can see him limp.” The answers to Merly’s questions were almost out, but yet she was not satisfied and wanted to know more.

The information which she was receiving was something she never believed she would hear from anyone. She was extremely fond of Mr. Summers a few days back, but then hearing from his own sister that he may be lying to all of them turned her stomach. So she asked the most obvious question that came to her. “Why would Mr. Summers lie to us about his own name? What would he gain from that?” Then she had a hard time believing what she was being told, “And why would I believe you? I don’t even know you, and you are a ghost. I shouldn’t even be talking with you,” Merly said in a disgusted manner.

“You still think that I am making this all up? Merly, just ask yourself, do you truly believe that I am lying? Gregory was my brother, he was my teacher and friend and we promised to be someone one day. Coming from a small town, we had so little to do, but we managed it until the night of the terrible incident which cut short my life,” the voice muttered.

Merly didn’t stop listening. She had to make a decision and it was now or never, and she honestly hoped that the woman who claimed to be Mr. Summers’ sister had come to the last part of her explanation, because like the story teller, her own life was on the line, too.

“I am listening. So what should I call you? Oh, I recall, R. Keaton. Now what does that stand for?” Merly wanted to know.

“They used to call me Rosemary, my brother lovingly called me ‘Rose.’ He said I was the prettiest, and that he loved me just like that. Sad, isn’t it, when the only thing that remains are the memories, and how tragic it is that I don’t even get to see him now.” Merly noticed that the green eyes of the speaker were not sparkling anymore.

There was something immensely tragic about her tale and Merly was surprised at the emotions that she was feeling for a stranger who was not even human. She had loved someone dearly and lost that person and knew what that meant. Her eyes watered at what she heard. The story was parallel to her own past, and while listening to Rosemary Keaton, she imagined how desperate she had become when Mrs. Nigella passed away. Merly flinched at the thought and for a brief and irrational moment, she wanted to get up and comfort Rosemary. She couldn’t bear to imagine what she must have felt to be separated from her own brother, but unlike her case here, Rosemary was the one who was dead.

The hurt in the green eyes was too much and Merly couldn’t look into them anymore directly. She cursed herself for doubting Rosemary previously and wanted to apologize, but retracted eventually as there was nothing she could say that seemed appropriate. Merly was filled with remorse and wished she could help the person sitting across her table in some way. At that moment, all her previous questions vanished. She had wanted to ask a number of things. The sender of those books to her remained a mystery as well as Nora’s sudden disappearance, but nothing mattered to her other than helping Rosemary at the second, even the questions and doubts about her own agony and nightmares seemed to fade away.

“Can you help me please?” Rosemary said in a shaky and pleading tone and as Merly was looking for the very opportunity, she jumped into it immediately.