The next morning, Melody unlocked her door. Whatever food her mother had left for her last night had been taken away. She walked downstairs, wearing the same clothes she had on yesterday. She didn’t bother to brush her hair, but merely ran her fingers through it. With her book bag in hand, she headed for the front door. On her way out, she refused to acknowledge not only her mother, but the breakfast that had been prepared for her. She intentionally walked past her packed lunch box, leaving it on the kitchen counter.
“Don’t even think about taking the car to school, Melody. Your driving privileges are over. You can take the bus,” her mother ordered.
Melody did not say a word but walked out the door quietly. Her mother watched her turn onto the sidewalk and head to the corner where the bus would soon pick her up. After her daughter disappeared from sight, Barbara sat down and ate the breakfast herself. There had been enough sin in this house, wasting food would not be another. After eating, she went into the living room and turned on the TV to catch the morning headlines. The name she never wanted to hear again was the subject of the morning’s top story. Barbara listened to the reporter as he stood on a street corner, talking into a microphone while looking at the camera.
“At roughly four AM this morning, the body of Becky Valentine was discovered in the back seat of her stepfather’s car, hidden behind an abandoned warehouse off of Eight Mile Road, in downtown Detroit. Cause of death appears to be the result of self-asphyxiation using car exhaust. Miss Valentine was found wrapped in an army blanket with her head on a pillow.”
Barbara Mivshek put a hand to her mouth and slowly shook her head as the scene switched over to a policeman giving a statement to the press.
“The suspect has been taken to the Wayne County morgue. There was a confession pinned to her clothing claiming that she had acted alone in the killing of one Walter Olsen of Dowagiac, Michigan. Fingerprints from the body will be sent to the Dowagiac Police Department to match against the prints found on the murder weapon. I am confident this case will soon be closed.”
An unintelligible question came from one of the reporters surrounding the podium. The policeman listened and answered into the microphone. “Susan Olsen, the suspect’s mother, has been located. She was found in Buffalo, New York working at a night club under an alias. I have no further information about her at this time.”
Barbara shut off the television and retrieved the vacuum cleaner. She planned to clean the upstairs bedrooms and bathroom. She wanted to stay busy while trying to think of how she was going to explain everything to her husband who would probably call this evening. Barbara entered Melody’s room first and saw that the bed was already made, something Melody did not make a habit of doing. She looked at the rocking chair and wondered if she had sat in it all night or slept on the floor. The package Becky had sent was on Melody’s dresser. Barbara picked it up and brought it to her own room. For safe keeping, she put it on the floor of her closet and shut the door.
***
Paying absolutely no attention, Melody sat through her classes with her head down. When she was called upon, she sat silently, ignoring her teachers. How persistent each individual teacher was to get a word out of her was unknown to Melody. She had withdrawn into her own world where there was only peaceful silence. As the week continued, students began to whisper and point in the hallways as she walked by, but to that too, Melody was oblivious. The only peers who tried to talk to her were her volleyball teammates, but they were equally unsuccessful in getting Melody to speak. Melody walked everywhere with her head down, allowing her hair to cover her face. She wanted to be invisible and wished everyone would just ignore her completely. She did not want to be at school but had nowhere else to go. She certainly was not going to stay at home all day with her mother.
Lunch had become Melody’s only meal of the day. She brought her own money to buy it but did not sit in the cafeteria. Instead, she found quiet corners in the hallway where she could sit and not be bothered. It was on Friday, sitting in the shadows, with her back against a locker, that she finalized her plans.
Melody intended to drown herself. She wanted to sink deep into the ocean where no one would ever find her, not even God. She recalled the frigid water at Virginia Beach and knew that would never do. She wanted to die in Florida. She knew the water would be warm there soon, perhaps in another week. She was sure she had enough money in her account to get a bus ticket to Miami, maybe all the way to Key West. It would be so easy once she got there. She would walk to the shore and take off all her clothes, not caring who looked. She would dive into the waves and swim out to the horizon. She would not look back but continue swimming until she exhausted herself. Once she reached the limit of her endurance, she would relax and let herself go under. It would be easy, and it would be quick. Most importantly, she would be too far out to change her mind. She would leave soon, and if the water was still not warm enough when she arrived, she could wait down there.
Melody walked home slowly that Friday afternoon. She knew her father would be home this weekend, but that did not matter. What could her father possibly do to her that was worse than what God was preparing? Her broken heart was more punishment than she could bear, and the emotional pain had only gotten worse as the days dragged on. Melody did not believe she could last much longer. She knew God was watching, and He was waiting for her to accept His final judgement. She was wicked and unclean, undeserving of salvation because she had turned her back on Him. Melody would die with a remorseless heart filled with sin and be sent straight to hell, where she would wallow forever in flames and never know rest again. Melody knew it was exactly what she deserved.
When Melody walked through the front door, her mother was upon her in an instant. “Melody, what on earth are you trying to prove? The phone is ringing off the hook! McDonald’s fired you, you lost your job. Mrs. Gonzales called and said you received a zero on your oral exam because you refuse to speak. Mr. Shaddock called, isn’t he your favorite teacher? He spoke at great length and is very concerned about you. Two girls from the volleyball team called asking why you’ve missed practice all week. You cannot shun your responsibilities just because your friend died. This little act of yours ends now!”
Melody said nothing but turned towards the hallway to go upstairs.
“Answer me young lady!” her mother said, raising her voice in anger.
Melody reached the first step and began to ascend.
“Your father will straighten you out when he gets here, and God help you when he does!”
Melody entered her room and closed the door. She tossed her book bag on the bed and dug out several packages of cheese and peanut butter sandwich crackers. She put these under her pillow, then sat in her chair. Melody wanted her package, but her mother had taken it days ago. She wanted to look through the photographs and hold the silver half-heart charm. With nothing else to do, Melody stared at the wall and thought about saltwater. She estimated the Gulf of Mexico would be warm enough in one more week. Until then, she could finalize her few affairs and write her suicide letter to Pastor Featherstone.
The room grew dark as the sun began to set behind the tree line. Melody rocked in her chair, grateful for the solitude she was sure would be short lived. She did not want to go to church on Sunday. If God wanted her, He knew where to find her. She would not go downstairs this weekend if she could help it. She could survive on her crackers until Monday. Melody continued to rock slowly. Using her newly discovered powers of self-hypnosis, she put herself into a trance. Melody never heard the heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Father was home.
The door burst open with great force as Douglas entered the room. He scanned the area quickly and made his way to the rocking chair. “Who the hell do you think you are? Talking to your mother like that!”
Melody heard nothing. She had retreated into herself, much like a turtle retracting its head and legs inside an invulnerable shell. Melody’s mind was not in her room but submerged under the sea. Her head was two feet under the surface, and the sunlight was breaking through. The water was warm, and the shimmering colors danced all around her. Down below her feet, the water was dark and cold. She liked where she was and wanted to sink no further, Melody was not yet ready. Then from the darkness below, wispy hands reached up for her. As they wrapped around her legs and began pulling her down gently, Melody became frightened. Suddenly, an apparition of Becky materialized in front of her. She was calm and gentle, smiling at her with an understanding pity. Melody was no longer afraid and reached to put her arms around her. “Just let go, Melody... It’s so much better here... I’ll help you... It’s easy...”
“Are you listening to me?” Douglas yelled. Melody had been yanked out of her chair by the upper arm. Her father’s strong grip hurt as his fingers dug into her biceps. “Answer me! I want to know everything that has been going on!”
Melody did not answer. She stood limply at an odd angle, like a marionette with half its strings cut. Her father continued to demand answers as he held her up by the arm. She stared at the floor but saw nothing. Melody only answered to God now and He was much angrier than her father. Douglas finally released his grip and Melody crashed back down into her chair. Her head snapped back violently, but she made no sound. Her father stood over her with his fists on his hips but remained silent. Finally, he turned to leave while saying, “If you want to eat this weekend, you’ll speak to me first.”
Melody did not go to church that Sunday. Her parents did not even attempt to bring her. Sunday night, her mother finally gave in and entered her room. She left a plate of hot food on Melody’s desk and departed without making a sound. Melody looked at the dinner for a moment and got up. She had finished all of her crackers yesterday and had eaten nothing for over twenty-four hours. Melody discovered she liked being hungry. The pain in her stomach was enough to take her mind off God, and for that, she was grateful. However, Melody knew if she was going to swim out to sea, she would need nourishment. She did not want to be rescued in the nude by a lifeguard in waist deep water.
Monday morning, Melody came downstairs. She had neither washed nor brushed her teeth and was still wearing the same outfit she had worn on Wednesday. Her mother protested at the sight of her, but Melody walked out the door without saying a word. A week from today she would be on a Greyhound bus. The Lord was waiting.
***
“Melody! Wait up!” Claire called out as she ran up behind her in the hallway. As soon as Claire began walking alongside Melody, she noticed a foul odor coming from her.
“Melody!” Claire exclaimed. “I don’t want to be rude, but when was the last time you showered?”
Melody gave no answer as she continued to walk in silence.
“Hey, Coach has been asking about you,” Claire continued. “We got a mandatory meeting today for our fundraising. Coach wants us all in the gym at three-thirty.”
Melody continued walking.
“Melody? Say something! Are you gonna be at the meeting?”
Melody said nothing as she held her books tighter to her chest. Along with everything else, Melody was done with volleyball.
Suddenly, Claire jumped in front of her and grabbed Melody by both shoulders in an effort to make her stop. When Melody looked up, Claire was shocked to see Melody’s face. It was lifeless, like a store mannequin. Claire gasped at Melody’s empty, unresponsive eyes. They appeared as unseeing as the artificial eyes staring out from her father’s mounted deer head trophies. When Claire released her and took a step back, Melody sidestepped her and walked on in silence.
***
Melody’s punishment continued and life only became worse after God took away her last real refuge, sleep. Her nightmares caused her to react violently, and upon waking, she would shudder in horror. God was taking delight in revealing both hell and Becky’s suffering. Melody had watched helplessly as Becky climbed out of a flaming pit, only to be knocked back in repeatedly by creatures standing on the ledge. They ridiculed and mocked her as she screamed to be let out. In another dream, Becky was in a cave by herself. Her glass-like skin was translucent, and Melody saw the flames burning within her. She writhed in pain as she clawed the cave walls with her fingernails. Her face was unrecognizable, but Melody knew her voice and her screaming never ceased.
On Wednesday, Melody had the worst dream yet. She was walking uphill through a dark forest and came to a clearing that ended in a pointed cliff. A lone figure stood at the edge with its back to her. It wore a long, blue hooded robe with a silver rope tied around the waist. As Melody approached she heard sounds from beyond the cliff, cries of pain. When Melody was within arm’s length of the mysterious being, it turned to face her and removed its hood. It had the face of a woman, but her skin was dark green. Her red hair waved in a wind that Melody could not feel. Her huge eyes were completely white, the size of golf balls, and bulged on either side of her thin nose. Her mouth was nothing more than a red knife slash. Implanted in her forehead was a clock with Roman Numerals, but it had no hands. While continuing to gaze at Melody, the creature pointed a long, gnarled finger out over the cliff, demanding she look.
Melody walked to the edge of the cliff and peered into the darkness. There was another ledge pointing towards her, similar to the one she herself was standing on. It was approximately ten feet below and jutted out from an unseen mountain side. Then, Becky appeared. She sat cross legged at the tip of the ledge as a fire raged all around her. She held a flaming baby in her arms that bit her breasts with sharp teeth and clawed at her with tiny talon-like hands. Melody could smell Becky’s skin burning as the smoke rose from her hair. Becky was in great pain, but she only wept. Without warning, two cold hands pressed against Melody’s back and shoved her over the edge. Melody woke up on the floor after falling out of her rocking chair.
***
The phone rang again Thursday afternoon. Barbara answered it, dreading yet another call from the school. To her relief it was her husband.
“How is she?” he asked.
“Douglas, it’s getting worse by the day and the phone calls will not stop. Her guidance counselor called yesterday suggesting we take her out of school and have her see a psychiatrist.”
“Is she causing trouble?”
“She is not doing anything, that’s the trouble,” Barbara reported. “She doesn’t talk. She refuses to eat. She doesn’t change her clothes. I can’t get her to bathe, and she hides her face behind her hair.”
“There’s got to be something else. Something we don’t know,” Douglas said.
“She became this way after reading that letter from Becky. The same one you and I both read,” Barbara answered. “Did we miss something? What could ‘Sapphire Jeans’ possibly mean?
“I don’t know,” Douglas admitted. “She hasn’t said anything at all?”
“She has not said a single word. She just sits in that chair of hers and rocks herself to sleep. I open the door to watch her, but she doesn’t know I’m there. She just stares straight ahead, at nothing, and barely moves. She has not been in her bed at all. Oh, and Douglas, she’s having nightmares. I have no idea what she’s dreaming about, but they must be horrible. One night I was watching her before I went to bed. I’ve never seen such terror on her face. She was asleep, but her eyes were wide open. She shook her head from side to side and raised her arms as if something was attacking her. She finally fell to the floor and didn’t move. Douglas, I didn’t know what to do, I thought she had scared herself to death.”
“I went into her room three times last weekend. I don’t even think she knew I was there,” Douglas added.
“Douglas, if we don’t do something soon, Melody is going to be taken away from us. They’ll institutionalize her. I know now she’s not acting, something is terribly wrong with her. I see it every day.” A tear ran down her cheek as she released a sob. “Douglas, what are we going to do? I want my daughter back.”
Douglas had no answers. He wanted to comfort his wife. He wanted to help Melody, but felt useless in Athens, Alabama, talking on a payphone. Suddenly, he had an idea, the perfect idea that just had to work.
“Barbara, I’m hanging up. I just thought of something. Stay by the phone. I will call you right back. Love you.”
ns 15.158.61.8da2
