Spirit Eyes (2 page)

She stood for a long time staring at the picture Sheila had drawn. A swastika. One of the most evil and vile symbols ever created in mankind swirled in her gaze.
What in the hell does this have to do with my new baby?

Seven Years Later

“It’s sunny! It’s sunny! Tra la la la la.”

Ruth rolled onto her back and glanced at the clock as Pearl and Puddles bounded in. “Mommy can you believe it’s sunny on my birthday? It’s freezing out, but it’s sunny.”

“Yes, I can, honey. The sun didn’t want to miss your special day.” She tried to sit, but the family dog, Puddles, aka Mr. Puds, didn’t understand the concept of personal space and jumped on her bed, planted his giant paws firmly on her chest, and licked her face.

“Why’s his nose all wet?” Ruth yelled. “On second thought, I don’t want to know. Mr. Puds, get down.” She shoved the large, gray mutt, a gift from Grandma and Grandpa eight years before, threw the blankets off, and stood. “I have the cupcakes on the kitchen table, but the gate’s up—open it and put Puddles out and make sure he doesn’t get them,” she said.

“Mommy, is it true that the reason there was only one puppy in his litter was because he ate all the other ones in his mommy’s tummy? That’s what Daddy said.”

“The way that dog eats, I’m surprised he didn’t eat his mommy from the inside out.”

Pearl laughed. “Can I tell that to Mrs. King?”

“Hon, please don’t discuss anything we say at home with your teachers, okay. How many times do I have to remind you of that?”

“Mommy, that wasn’t my fault. Lotus should have told me not to tell my class that she started her period. I mean you two were so excited about it.” She rolled her eyes. “Is that what you did?”

Half-paying attention, Ruth said, “What?”

“Is that why you don’t have any brothers or sisters? You ate them inside your mommy’s tummy.”

“Yeah, that’s right, Pearl. I ate them all in-utero.” She ran her hand through Pearl’s thick black hair and chuckled, realizing her daughter needed some attention.

“Actually, honey,” she got down on Pearl’s level, “what happened to me is that my mommy died after she gave birth to me. She was sick for a long time before she got married and got pregnant. Me, being in her stomach, was just too much for her poor, weak body to handle and she went home to be with God.”

“And your daddy was a sad sack after that, right? And you weren’t the result of a sordid neighborhood coupling like Puddles, right?”

“I guess you do hear me when I talk, huh? Yes, my dad was a sad sack. That’s why I want a happy home and…that’s why I’m so glad we got a smiley, chirpy, funny, giggly, little chipmunk like you. You make this such a happy house.” She tickled Pearl until she fell like a heap into her lap, laughing and smiling with abandon.

In the bathroom, Ruth combed her hair and put on lipstick. With a light tan gracing her skin, she knew it was all the makeup she needed.

Pearl popped in. “Remember, Mom, you’re just dropping the cupcakes off. None of this coming in and staying stuff. That’s just for babies.”

“I know…I know. Go on now, get Puddles out before he piddles.”

At forty-five, Ruth was tired more often than she cared to admit and consumed gallons of coffee simply to keep pace with her crazy, vivacious youngest daughter. It wasn’t easy, but it was something she cherished, taking care of this treasure. Cocky from the trouble-free parenting of her easy-going, laid back first child, Lotus, it rendered her over-confident in her nurturing skills. Caught completely off-guard by her baby’s enthusiasm for life, she realized God had a sense of humor and wanted her to see what she’d been missing.

Pearl, now a beautiful, rambunctious child of eight, bit with gusto, chewed to fragments and swallowed passionately every second of existence and all it offered. From the get-go, her little body, with its perfect black bob, swung from branch to branch on the tree of life. Nothing was impossible for her. Nothing was out of reach. The sky was the limit and even then, she’d find a way to blast beyond it. Lotus, her quiet, studious, oldest daughter, enjoyed living as much as her little sister, but in a quieter, much more subdued manner.

Her husband, Paul, possessed more the personality of Lotus. They looked at the world as black and white. Paul, a scientist, put everything into safe little compartments, and, so far, raised his daughters thusly. If there was a casting call for a movie, and they needed a scientist, Paul could just show up. He had the required dark rimmed glasses, short blonde hair and pocket protector. He was tall and skinny—gangly, actually, and she loved him passionately. However, no matter how serious father and oldest daughter’s outlook, they did express amusement at Pearl’s antics. But who wouldn’t? Pearl was a most precocious child, cheeky and clever. Parenting such a willful youngster was no easy task, and considering the kid was in trouble more often than she blinked, Paul was the busy disciplinarian.

“Close the gate,” Ruth yelled through car keys gripped firmly in her teeth. Balancing a cup of coffee and the box of cupcakes, she hurried to the garage. She threw Pearl an impatient glance. “Make sure it’s closed all the way. Puddles keeps getting out.”

Pearl reached up and hooked the latch, turned and stopped. Her intent gaze locked onto something in the driveway.

“Come on, kiddo, get in. We don’t have all day.” Ruth leaned her hip against the car and placed the box of cupcakes on the roof of the van, then took the keys from her mouth and unlocked the driver side door. “Pearl, are you going to stand there all day? Come on.”

Pearl’s almond shaped eyes slowly turned toward her mother, and the exuberance she’d been displaying all morning disappeared. Whatever had transfixed her let her gaze escape and she ran to the garage, opened the back car door and quickly hustled into the seat.

Ruth started the engine and jumped as Paul’s classic rock music blared out. He’d dropped Lotus off earlier and liked his music loud. She flipped the radio off and turned to gaze over the seat. “What’s wrong, hon? Why so sad, suddenly?”

Pearl played with the mini decorations attached to her backpack.

“Earth to Pearl.”

Quietly, she turned her focus to her mother. “Why does he just stand there staring at me?”

Ruth studied her daughter. “Who?”

“That man in our driveway.”

“What man?”

Pearl looked out the back window and pointed her index finger. “He was standing right there.”

Long and curving, their driveway led to Rural Route Six, which twisted and turned until it intersected with the downtown section of Eberstark.

“Honey, I didn’t see anyone. Are you sure?”

She nodded her head.

“What did he look like?”

“He…um, he looked sorta mad.”

“Mad?”

“Yeah. And he wears a gray suit.”

“Okay.” Ruth felt the color drain from her face. “Maybe you dreamed him.”

“Mommy, I was wide awake in the driveway?”

The hair on Ruth’s arms rose.

“He’s mad, Mom. He’s really, really mad.” Pearl’s sweet face winced.

“Why? Why is he mad?” This conversation, so foreign to any she’d ever had with Pearl, caused her throat to tighten up.

“I don’t know, but he is. I don’t think he likes you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes he smiles at me. His teeth are crooked looking. But then he looks at you, or if I’m with Dad, he looks at him and his face gets—I don’t know, kinda mean.”

“You see this man with Daddy, too?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Did you ever tell Daddy?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged, her eyes wandering out the car window.

Her heart racing, her body cold, Ruth asked, “Do you see him, now?”

Pearl’s glance reverted quickly back to her mom and she shook her head,
no
.

Her back rigid, Ruth attempted to relax. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, just as she’d learned in her yoga class. Not liking the present conversation, she didn’t understand where it was coming from. Their big house on the hill sat far back from the road and was completely isolated from neighbors by a thick patch of trees on either side. Far off, behind their backyard, a bird sanctuary existed, no neighbors at all.
Maybe she saw a man from the sanctuary?

“Well,” she said in hopes of turning her world back to normal, “we’ve got some cupcakes to deliver to someone’s class now, don’t we?” Her voice chipper, she forced a smile and turned forward. “And I don’t think your friends want us to be late, so let’s get going.”

“Mommy!” Pearl screamed as Ruth pulled out of the garage. “The cupcakes. You left them on the roof.”

Slamming the brakes, Ruth opened the door and got out to get them, but they were gone. “Where are they?”

She looked under the car, all over, but the box of cupcakes was gone, nowhere to be found.

With a twisted face, Pearl started to cry.

“No, baby. Don’t cry. We’ll stop at Swenson’s Bakery on the way. Mommy will buy your cupcakes there. We’ll get the real fancy ones, okay?”

“Okay.” Lower lip trembling, Pearl wiped a tear off her pink cheek and stared out the window.

“What the hell is going on?” Ruth mumbled under her breath.

After Ruth stopped for more cupcakes, she dropped Pearl off. She turned the car down a little dirt road just off the main one to their house. Having grown up in the city, both Paul and Ruth wanted to raise their children in a country environment. One of the best parts of living in the small village of Eberstark was the little mom-and-popshops dusting the landscape.

It wasn’t too long ago that Ruth had discovered one such store. Having gotten lost, she’d taken a turn down an old dirt road and came upon a charming farmhouse. A sign out front promised the freshest brown eggs available anywhere. Goat’s milk cheese and fudge were also prominently offered.

When she pulled into the driveway of the modest cottage covered in vines, she didn’t expect to be greeted by the two owners as if she’d just come home from an extended stay at college. A sweet couple, at least in their mid-sixties, greeted her warmly. The woman possessed a head of salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a loose bun, escaped tendrils draping over her neck and back. Her dress, baggy, obviously hid her wide girth. He wore suspenders, smoked a pipe and wore a black hat over his gray hair.

Ruth instantly fell in love with them. Sarah and Simon Schuster were the epitome of hospitality. They offered her a glass of lemonade and took her on a tour of their small farming enterprise. After buying some cheese and eggs and a delicious smelling loaf of homemade rye bread, she told them that she’d be back often.

And that’s where she found herself heading. She needed more than eggs…she needed the warmth that the Schusters offered in a world that no longer considered kindness a necessary staple for life.

She pulled into their drive, her mind going in a thousand different directions. She wondered if she should ask this wizened, elderly couple their thoughts on the matter of Pearl, but thought against it.
But
w
hat did Pearl see? Is she having hallucinations? Does she have Schizophrenia? Oh, God, does it ever end?

“Ruth!” It was Mrs. Schuster. “How wonderful for you to visit again.” Her deep accent charmed Ruth as she stepped out of the car unsteadily and hugged the woman who was at least a head shorter than her.

“Come, come in before you catch your death. It’s freezing out here. I have some homemade chicken and dumpling soup simmering on the stove. Mr. Schuster’s favorite, you know.”

They settled in the homey kitchen. Ruth savored a bowl of the soup while Mrs. Schuster questioned her.

“You seem troubled. What is worrying you so?”

In a change of subject, Ruth quickly asked. “Your accent, is it German?”

“No, Polish. My husband and I came from Poland after the war. We needed to get away from all the hate.”

Ruth remembered watching a news program years before about a certain group of people who lived long, healthy lives. It was somewhere in Europe, but she couldn’t remember exactly.

“It was an awful time in history,” Ruth added. “I don’t mean to insult you by saying this, but you look wonderful for a woman who remembers living through the nightmare that was World War II. And `the fact that you were old enough to have children then, too, I mean, wow.”

“Yes, Mr. Schuster and I are very blessed to be called centurions. I think we took such good care of ourselves that we aren’t able to die.” She started to laugh. “Or, perhaps, heaven is not ready for us.”

Smiling at the elderly woman’s cute joke, Ruth continued her questions. “Mrs. Schuster, are you Jewish?”

“Yes. Here, have more bread.” She pushed a plate toward Ruth.

“And you survived the horror.”

A sorrowful look overtook Mrs. Schuster’s face, as if she was watching a movie projected just over Ruth’s head. “It is wonderful we survived the unspeakable crimes we witnessed. Some
had
to survive to tell about it. No one can comprehend the terror of the camps unless they were there. No one can grasp the feeling of neighbors turning their backs on you when just the day before they would invite you over for a lovely chat over coffee and cake.”

Mrs. Schuster spoke with strong conviction. Ruth was amazed at her fortitude and her bravery.

“Our entire village, once home to hundreds of Jewish families for centuries, was wiped out in a matter of weeks. Gone. They were all killed.”

“I don’t even feel worthy to be sitting here with you,” Ruth said truthfully. “I don’t know how anyone could carry on as you and your husband have done after the disgusting events in your life.”

“My
kochanie
, that means sweetie in Polish,” she said smiling, “you are so kind with your words. But with God, anything is possible. There is still good to be found. If we let evil quiet us and turn us bitter, then it has won.” She poured Ruth some milk out of an earthenware jug. “Mr. Schuster still cannot talk of it. And this I understand. But he is not bitter. He won’t allow himself to be.”

Ruth, mesmerized by this powerful force in front of her could barely breathe. A living testament to one of the most horrific moments in history sat before her and trusted her enough to open up.