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Callis Rose Page 2


  “He isn’t even quiet in his sleep, he has night terrors. Starts screaming at all hours of the night. Sometimes he doesn’t even look like he’s asleep.”

  Probably isn’t…just wants to make sure you’re not either. “Have you seen a doctor?” And by doctor, I mean therapist?

  Janet moved quickly towards Callis’ room – the kids’ last known whereabouts. “Callis, honey.” Janet knocked and entered without waiting for a response.

  Callis was sitting at her small tea party table, a very quiet and a very still Coleman sitting opposite her.

  “How precious,” Janet said. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him this well behaved.

  I can, Hope thought. Never, comes to mind. Hope could not get the picture of the black bear out of her head. He had been as still as Coleman was now, except for the eyes, which rapidly scanned the room in an effort to escape their prison.

  Callis had not noticed her mother and friend at the door. “Drink some of your tea, good sir, before it gets cold,” she said as she looked at Coleman.

  Hope noticed the look of concentration on her daughter’s face as Coleman clumsily picked up his cup. He smacked himself hard enough on the side of the face to leave a red mark.

  “What are you doing, Coleman?” Janet asked her son, his movements seemed unsure and imprecise. He looked like an eighty-year-old stroke victim trying to relearn an old skill.

  Callis’ head turned quickly, the teacup in Coleman’s hand fell and clattered off the table onto the floor.

  Coleman looked over at Callis and then to his mom.” I want to go back to the hotel, Mom.”

  “Honey we just got here, you’re playing so well.”

  “I SAID I WANT TO GO BACK!” He was in a full scream, veins in his neck bulging out, his face the color of a fire engine. “NOW!” he punctuated his stance.

  “Please, honey, I don’t get to see my friend that often.”

  “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWW!!!!” he screamed, standing up and flipping over Callis’ table. “I hate tea!” he yelled at Callis.

  “Mom?” Callis began to cry.

  “Maybe we should go.” Janet looked at her friend in embarrassment.

  Coleman had already run out of the room and was heading for the front door. “I hate it here!!”

  “I’m so sorry, Hope. Maybe next time.”

  Maybe next time don’t bring your son. “It was good seeing you,” Hope told her.

  Hope watched as her friend nearly left rubber in her driveway in her haste to get Coleman wherever he wanted to be.

  “I thought he liked tea,” Callis said as she came up on her mother’s side.

  “He sure was still while he was sitting with you.” Hope said turning to gauge her daughter’s reaction.

  “He said he was going to break my toys because he got in trouble for hitting me last time.”

  Hope doubted seriously that Coleman got in trouble. It was probably more along the lines of being told he shouldn’t do that. The boy took offense to being told he couldn’t do anything. Hope figured it would only be a matter of time before he was either in jail or a lawyer like his father.

  “He didn’t though?”

  “No I asked him very nicely to sit down and have tea with me.”

  “And he did?”

  Callis nodded.

  “You asked Coleman to sit down and drink tea with you and he did?”

  Callis nodded again.

  “Did you do anything else?”

  “About what, Mommy?” Callis asked, looking at her mother, their faces mirroring confusion as Hope tried to piece together what was happening.

  “I don’t know, Callis, I just can’t imagine Coleman sitting still and being quiet.”

  “I was surprised too, Mommy,” Callis answered with a complete look of innocence on her face.

  “Did you do more than tell him to sit?”

  “I asked him, I didn’t tell him. That would be rude.”

  “Yes it would.” To Hope, it was clear her daughter was unaware of anything unnatural happening. Hope herself wasn’t even sure of what she had witnessed. At its base level, it was two kids sitting at a table drinking make believe tea. How strange was that? She still had a couple more questions for Callis just as the phone rang.

  “How’s it going?” Robert asked in a conspiring tone. “I was calling with a valid excuse if you need to send Janet and the demon spawn away.”

  “They already left,” Hope sighed.

  “How long were they there? It’s only noon. Did something happen? Did the little bastard hurt Callis again? I’ll punch his ass of a father this time.”

  “No, nothing like that. The kids were playing quietly for a little while and then Coleman had a major meltdown episode, demanding that they go back to the hotel. They were only here about an hour.”

  “Why does she keep caving in to the kid? She’s not doing anyone any favors.”

  “I felt so embarrassed for her. I could tell she felt bad. He went crazy, Robert. I thought his little cherry head was going to explode he was screaming so loudly.”

  “Aw, hon, I’m sorry I know you were looking forward to seeing Janet. Hey I’ll try to take your mind off it. I’ll get us reservations for that new restaurant out on Route 30.”

  “Whitford’s?”

  “Yeah, that one. Say around 6:30?”

  “Sounds good. Callis will be happy, she was pretty upset, too.”

  “Mom!” Callis cried.

  “Speak of the devil, gotta go,” Hope told her husband before hanging up.

  “I’m okay,” Callis told her as she neared. “Had a bloody nose, but it stopped.”

  Hope once again let that which was strange fall to the side; she concentrated merely on Coleman’s tantrum. The rest was forgotten or, more likely, subconsciously buried under the oppressive weight of rationale.

  Chapter 4

  Within a span of twenty-four hours, an eleven-year-old Callis Rose’s semi-charmed life was turned on its ear. She came from a solid middle-class family who, like everyone else, worked hard to make most ends meet. But what Callis wanted, Callis got – sometimes much to the chagrin of her mother. Hope Rose could only watch helplessly while their daughter wrapped her father Robert around her finger. He would work extra shifts at the steel factory just to make sure she had the finest clothes or newest toy. He didn’t care; plus, it was an added bonus that he loved his job as a safety officer.

  Hope and Robert had more than one altercation about how much he was spoiling the girl.

  “Sometimes I just can’t help it,” he had told her, a look of confusion coming over his face. “Almost like I’m compelled.”

  Hope had not liked the word ‘compelled’ at all. She remembered a boy who had seemed ‘compelled’ also, and that had not ended well for him. In the five ensuing years that they continued going to the park, they had never seen Jimmy or the fat bitch again.

  “You can’t keep giving her everything she wants. We have got to set limits,” Hope said to her husband as they lay in bed.

  “You’re right…I know you’re right. I will make a conscious effort to teach her the value of things. What she wants she will have to earn.”

  “I’m not sure if I trust you, but it’s a start,” Hope had laughed. Callis was a good girl; somewhat self-centered, a tad spoiled, but a very loving, caring daughter and Hope wanted her to stay that way.

  The next morning, a blackness had settled over the family as they ate breakfast although none of them could see it quite yet.

  “Father,” Callis said in the poshest British accent she could muster.

  “Oh this should be rich,” he said as he put his paper down so that he could look at his daughter.

  “Father,” she began anew, “would it be possible to get an iPod?”

  “What is an iPod? Is that some sort of vegetable?” he asked jokingly.

  “Dad, it plays music…and everyone has one. They’re so cool they even play videos,” she elaborated.
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br />   “Our television plays videos,” Robert replied.

  “Dad,” She said with exasperation, “I can’t carry the TV around.”

  “Sure you can. I’ll build you a stand with wheels, all the kids will be so jealous. None of them will have screens that big,” he told her smiling.

  Her bottom lip began to pout out.

  “Stop, you’re breaking my heart. How much are they?” he asked.

  Hope was not happy with how quickly her husband had caved, especially after their conversation the previous night.

  “They’re about a hundred and eighty dollars,” Callis responded.

  “Oooh,” Robert said as he took in a quick breath of air. “That’s steep, but I can work an extra shift or two. Timmy is going on vacation.”

  “Robert.” Hope hoped saying his name would remind him of his word to her.

  He looked up at Callis who was pouring him some more orange juice. Hope almost stepped back as she watched a cloud of confusion pass across his visage.

  “What?” he asked his wife and then something clicked on. “A hundred and eighty dollars! That’s a lot, Callis. Let’s talk again around your birthday or maybe there are things you can do around the house to increase your allowance and you can pay for part of it. How’s that sound, kiddo? See I can do it,” Robert said to his wife, he looked at his watch, “Oops, running a little behind, gotta go.” He stood, grabbed his keys, and headed out.

  Mrs. Rose smiled a little on the inside as she saw the set of Callis’ jaw. She hoped the lesson would do her daughter some good. You can’t have everything you want in life without working hard for it.

  “You want a ride to school, honey?” Hope asked. She was taken aback for the second time that day from a look. Outright hostility was displayed for a moment on her daughter’s face. The normally pretty girl’s features were twisted in hate; and then it was gone so quickly she thought she might have imagined it.

  “I’ll take the bus. Thanks, Mom,” Callis said as she took her dishes to the sink.

  “You’re home early!” Hope yelled from her in-home office.

  “It’s three, Mom!” Callis called back.

  “So it is.” Hope looked down at the bottom right of her computer monitor. “Where do the days go?” She could hear Callis rooting around in the fridge. “Don’t eat too much, your dad is taking us out!”

  Callis grabbed an apple. “How much money would he be saving for my iPod if he didn’t take us to dinner?” Callis questioned, but only so she could hear it.

  “You say something, honey?” Hope asked from a room away.

  “Just going to watch some television, Mom.”

  “Alright. Please keep it down though. I should be done here in another hour.”

  Hope heard the muted television turn on.

  A half hour later, Hope’s mom-radar began to spin, something about how quiet the house was. Hearing your kid usually meant they were doing something acceptable; it was when all was quiet that the real trouble was brewing.

  “Probably just sleeping,” Hope said as she rose and stretched. “I could use a break anyway,” she told herself as she walked out of her office.

  Hope walked down the hallway. She could see the television on and the back of Callis’ head, but if her daughter was asleep she was doing so sitting up, which was strange in its own right; that, and her not having the phone plastered to her ear gave her pause.

  “Callie, honey?” Hope asked as she approached. “Are you alright?” The stock stillness of Callis’ form had her concerned. Robert’s side of the family had a genetic predisposition to seizures. They had Callis tested early on and every indication pointed to her being perfectly healthy, but something was not quite right here and Hope knew it.

  She came around the front of the couch. Callis’ eyes were open but not focused on anything, a ghostly hint of a smile splayed across her lips.

  “Callie?” Hope asked again, standing directly in Callis’ field of view.

  And as Hope watched a look of sheer terror blanketed Callis’ face. “Oh my God!” she shrieked. “What have I done!”

  Hope stumbled back from the force of the words. “What, honey, what?” Horror spread, taking root in her gut.

  Callis’ eyes focused on her mother, pain and anguish laced her features, tears poured down her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands and ran to her room.

  Anxiety was flooding Hope’s system; pinpricks of adrenaline were surging through her body bringing filaments of heat throughout. She inherently knew it was no dream she had awoken her daughter from. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

  She was torn between going down the hallway to comfort her daughter or calling her husband. She stumbled to the kitchen, her limbs suddenly taking on a dead, wooden feeling; dread thudded in her chest as she dialed her husband’s number.

  “Hi you’ve reached Robert’s voice mail, if you’re a bill collector please call my boss and ask him for a raise for me and I will gladly pay you off, otherwise leave a message and I’ll get back to you eventually,” his cheerful recorded voice rang out.

  “Robert,” Mrs. Rose said as she depressed the end button and dialed again.

  “Hi you’ve...” She called an uncountable number of times, sometimes listening to the whole message…mostly just redialing immediately.

  She was still holding the phone to her ear when the doorbell rang. She let the corded phone fall to the floor where it hung “...leave a message and I’ll get back to you eventually.”

  “Mrs. Robert Rose?” the policeman asked as he pulled his hat off, wringing it in his hands.

  “Yes?” she said hollowly, having a difficult time looking up at the officer’s face, which was nearly obscured by the top of the doorframe.

  “My name is Officer Tynes. Your husband was involved in a traffic accident on I-225,” he stated, having great difficulty looking her in the eye. He hated this part of his otherwise beloved career. He’d rather be involved in a gunfight than tell a loved one that someone in his or her life had passed.

  “He’s dead,” Hope stated flatly.

  “Yes, ma’am, he is…can we go inside and sit?”

  Hope held the screen door open for the officer, unsure if he would even fit through it. She stared long and hard at her clasped hands as she sat. Officer Tynes explained how her husband had inexplicably made an ill-advised U-turn on a major thoroughfare and how he had been broadsided by a tanker trailer full of milk from a dairy farm coming up from Pueblo.

  “Pueblo you say?” Hope asked, latching on to that innocuous statement.

  “Mrs. Rose, please take solace in the fact that your husband did not suffer. He was killed instantly,” Officer Tynes stated in as soothing a tone as he could muster.

  “Killed instantly, dairy truck, Pueblo farm. I’m sorry; I’ve forgot my manners. Would you like some tea?”

  “I’m good, Mrs. Rose. I’m sorry for your loss. You call me if there’s anything you need,” Officer Tynes stated as he stood and handed her his card. “Any time, day or night…you call me if you need anything.” He reiterated. “Your husband’s remains have been brought to the Arapahoe County Morgue. They will await your funeral arrangements. Again, I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  Hope looked up and nodded, red, tear-filled eyes burned with pain. “Thank you.” Now get out of my house, she thought.

  Officer Tynes placed his hat back on and walked out to his cruiser, thankful that he could leave the distastefulness of the entire event behind him.

  Hope sat in the burgeoning shade as the sun began to set. Callis came out of her room to see the motionless set to her mother’s shoulders.

  “Mom?”

  Silence was the response.

  “Mom, are you alright?” Callis asked, a tremor in her voice giving her words an underwater effect.

  “Callis, what did you do?” Hope asked quietly.

  “Mom, I didn’t mean to.” Callis broke down.

  “Callis what did you do?” Hope reit
erated with more force this time, standing and turning to face her daughter.

  “It was an accident, Mom.” Callis was full on crying now.

  “It’s not an accident if you made him do it,” Hope said, thinking back to the previous three encounters when she had seen three beings do things that were against their very nature. “Your nose is bleeding,” she said in an accusatory tone. “That’s always the sign. Isn’t it?” she asked harshly.

  Callis’ response came out in staccato bursts as she was able to catch her breath. “I...just...wanted...an...iPod.”

  “Your father is dead because you wanted an iPod,” Hope yelled vehemently.

  “No, no, it’s not like that, Mom!” Callis begged.

  “I saw what you did to Jimmy Danners!” Hope screamed.

  Callis tilted her head. “Who? Who is Jimmy Danners, Mom?”

  “You know damn well who Jimmy Danners is! You wanted your ball back probably as much as you wanted an iPod, and he gave it back to you didn’t he!” she shrieked, spittle issuing forth from her mouth.

  Callis backed up. She had never seen her mother so angry in her entire life.

  “Cost the brat a broken arm, but you got your ball back didn’t you!” Hope was shaking from the force of delivering the words. Her reddening face was easy to see even in the oncoming night and darkness of the room.

  “Mom, I don’t remember Jimmy Danners or the ball. Please, Mom, I didn’t mean for anything to happen to Daddy.”

  “But yet it did, didn’t it! He’s dead because of something you did. I knew I should have gotten you checked out after that damned ball incident. I knew something was wrong with you. That boy turned as rigid as a piece of wood. Is that what you did to your father? When he said you had to earn an iPod, you just turned his brain off for a few seconds on the interstate? Is that what you did? He wouldn’t get your precious little toy, so you made him get in a car accident? Is that it? That’s it isn’t it!” Hope was advancing on her daughter, murderous intent in her eye.

  “Mom, it...it wasn’t like that, I was watching cartoons…and for a moment I felt Dad in my head, I could feel him and I just told him how nice it would be if he surprised me with an iPod, and how I would work extra hard at my chores to pay for it. Mom, that’s what happened, I swear!” Callis was sobbing.