This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead or places, events or locales is purely coincidental.
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Images courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net
THE LAST OF HIM
And now the TV was on the fritz.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, she switched it off and placed the remote control on the coffee table beside a tray of food. Picking up the tray she walked to the small dining table and sat down. She eyed the chair at the head of the table and took another deep breath.
It had been a month already and the pain hadn't receded. In fact, without a creative distraction, she would find herself in a pit of sadness and that usually meant a good cry on her pillow when she was supposed to be sleeping.
She picked up the fork and started to put a forkful of rice in her mouth when her eyes went over to the chair again. Dropping her fork with a clatter, she walked briskly to the small cabinet in the living room, opened the wicker doors and brought out a wooden boy. She looked at the goofy smile painted on the face and the black wide eyes drawn in. The tuft of artificial hair on the head was bushy and she used her fingers to smooth out the tangles.
Then, adjusting his red shirt and dark blue pants, she returned to the table and made him sit at the head of the table. She sat down herself and picked up the fork again.
"You used to hate this." she told the dummy. "Chick peas and rice....you hated that didn't you? Complained about it every time I made it."
The dummy watched her in silence and she looked at the forkful of food. "Well you're not here now, so I can finally have my favorite meal in peace." She put the forkful in her mouth and then chewed as tears came to her eyes.
Swallowing, she turned to the dummy again. In the flickering flames of the candles, the dummy seemed to look almost human and his eyes had a glimmer of life in them. All in her imagination, of course.
"Forty years." she said, picking up a glass of water and taking a sip of cold water. "And now all of that is gone." Putting the glass down, she folded her hands. "You left me, all alone. Did you ever think what it would do to me?"
The dummy stared wordlessly, the light of the candles reflected on his polished surface.
"When you died, I thought maybe you hadn't left me." She said. "I thought I felt your presence around me. You know I believe in spirits."
She suppressed a laugh and then put a hand on her forehead, still keeping her eyes on the dummy. "Johnny, wasn't it? He named you Johnny."
Reaching for the wooden arm, she was taken aback when the surface felt warm. Then she smiled and pushed back the sleeves to reveal the name 'Johnny' engraved on the wood.
"That's what he named you." she dropped his arm and pushed away her plate. "I told him not to do that stupid show."
She was no longer talking to her dead husband, but instead to a dummy and the realization made her wonder if she was going mad. Perhaps she should have asked her daughter to skip her date and stay at home with her. But hadn't her daughter done enough?
For the past month, her daughter had been spending every moment with her, trying to cheer her up and consoling her when she wept. No, her daughter deserved a break even if it meant she would have to eat alone tonight.
"I thought I felt his presence." she told the dummy. "I thought the day after...I could smell his cologne. Then at night, I would feel his warm embrace."
She picked up the fork again and then dropped it. "They say when you're being haunted, the spirits show indications of their presence- like the flickering of lights and electronics and cold spots in the house."
Tears returned to her eyes again. "All that happened and tonight the TV started to malfunction. Is that you? Are you here?"
The dummy appeared to be mocking her for her crazy ideas and she reached for her napkin and dabbed at her eyes.
"After everything I thought you would show yourself to me. But of course...."
There was only silence for a while and she hated it. Her appetite was gone and she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. So what else could she do besides talking to the doll?
"He was always stubborn." she told the inanimate object. "I told him he was too sick to perform his ventriloquism act, but would he listen?"
One of the candles extinguished and she got up and lit it back with another candle. "That damned fool! He just had to go get a heart attack and die leaving me all alone."
She put the candles back in its place and then glared at the dummy. "It's all your fault. You know that don't you? You stupid....dummy!"
She picked up the plate and walked to the kitchen to thrown it into the basin. "You were supposed to be here, as a spirit. You weren't supposed to leave me alone and cry for you. You promised me you would never leave my side and now you just went and did that!"
She put a hand to her mouth and sobbed. "I hate you!" she screamed and then dissolved in tears again.
After she had managed to compose herself, she took a deep breath and went back to the dining area and to the dummy sitting on the chair.
"You are all that is left of him. He loved you more than anything. " She said. "Can't let anything happen to you now, can I?"
She picked up the dummy and then paused. Her hands had pushed at his sleeve and she blinked in surprise. Hadn't it said 'Johnny'?
She brought the dummy closer to the candle and traced a finger over the engraving.
I'm here
Her eyes travelled to the dummy's face and she saw that the eyes were no longer black but a soft brown- the color her husband's eyes were.
She said nothing for a while, and then a smile spread on her face.