Cheryl Tardif - Children of the Fog

“But I saw them, Irma. I spoke to them.”

“You couldn’t have,” the woman insisted. “Adam and Ashley died in the fire with Carrie.”

Sadie gasped. “Sarge’s kids?”

“Died five years ago.”

Sadie slumped forward, cradling her head in her hands. One of them had completely lost their mind. She knew it wasn’t Irma.

“I am seeing dead people,” she moaned. “What’s happening to me?”

“Maybe it has to do with why you’re out here, Sadie. By yourself. Sam, perhaps?”

Sadie raised her head, her eyes swollen with unshed tears.

“My son. He was kidnapped… murdered. But I still see him. I dream of him all the time.” Her face twisted in pain. “And now I’m seeing other dead children.”

“It sounds as if you haven’t let your son go.”

Sadie swallowed. “How can I do that? He was my baby.”

“Yes, he was. And always will be. But he’s gone, Sadie.”

There was a stifling pause.

“I’m so tired, Irma,” Sadie whispered.

Irma patted her hand. “I know, dear. But life goes on. It has to. And your son needs you to live it—fully—with all its ups and downs, no matter what life throws at you. There’s no peace in giving up.”

Sadie twitched. Did Irma know about the gun?

“I-I have to get back,” she said, rising swiftly to her feet. “I’m sorry, Irma.”

“For what, dear?”

“For bringing my troubles to your home.”

“Now don’t you be fretting over that. It ain’t been all roses in my life either. Us gals gotta stick together.”

Sadie smiled tremulously. “Your daughter is very lucky.”

“Now don’t you be getting me started on Brenda,” Irma grumbled. “You need anything, dear?”

“Just some uninterrupted sleep.”

Irma followed her outside and lit up a cigar. “You know,” she said, “even after the worst storm, the sun always comes out and shines again.”

“It stopped shining for me the day Sam died,” Sadie replied.

Irma grunted, then went back inside.

The path back to Infinity Cabin seemed to take longer than normal and Sadie reflected on the old woman’s words. Irma was wrong. There would be no sunshine. Ever. There was nothing to live for. Sam was dead, Philip was in jail, and Leah… well, she meant nothing anymore.

She estimated she had two or three days left before Going Batty would be finished. She plotted out her remaining time, listing the things she needed to take care of. No loose ends.

Whirr…

Her pocket was vibrating.

She withdrew the cell phone and scowled at the display.

Philip.

“Shit.” She flipped the phone open. “What do you want?”

“Are you okay?” He sounded worried.

“Yeah. Why are you calling, Philip?”

“Leah’s worried about you. I thought you were going to stay with her.” Pause. “Where the hell are you?”

“That’s none of your business,” she said, seething at the mention of Leah’s name. “You lost the right to question me when you started sleeping around.” With my best friend. “Is that the only reason you called me?”

“No… I, uh, was hoping you’d come visit me.”

“Why would I do that, Philip?”

She heard him sigh.

“Look,” he said. “I know I messed up. And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need to talk to you.”

“I’m done talking. We have nothing more to discuss.”

“Sadie, I know you have it,” he said in a tight whisper. “I know you have the gun.”

Her breath lurched to a stop. “Why do you think I have it?”

“Because it wasn’t in my office when you packed up.”

“How would you—?” She broke off, fuming. “Leah.”

Her friend hadn’t been after the bloody bottles of Screaming Eagle Cabernet. Or the letters. She wanted the gun.

“I asked her to find it,” Philip said. “To get rid of it.”

“Unbelievable. Asking my friend to do your dirty work. Now why would she do anything for you?”

He didn’t answer.

“Maybe I should ask her ,” she said sourly.

“Where’s the gun?”

“I got rid of it,” she said, gritting her teeth. “Along with your letter and hers.”

There was dead silence on the other end.

“What have you got to say about that, Philip?”

“Sadie… I… we—”

“Save it, Philip! I don’t want to hear how my husband was screwing my best friend behind my back.”

“It was one time,” he said, like that made it any better. “Three years ago.”

“Yeah. The night of her birthday party.”

“She was loaded,” he insisted. “And all over me.”

“Oh, right. So it’s all Leah’s fault, is it?”

“No, it’s mine. I knew she was drunk and I took advantage of her. I should’ve walked away.”

“But you didn’t, Philip. You slept with my best friend. And neither of you had the guts to tell me.”

Everything started to fall into place. Leah and Philip’s blatant animosity, their vicious bantering back and forth, their inability to be in the same room.

“That’s why you’ve tried so hard to get me to dump her,” she said, disgusted. “You were afraid she’d confess your mutual sins.”

“She would never tell you. She didn’t want you to get hurt. Yes, she feels guilty. Me too. So we agreed to forget about it.”

“Well, obviously you didn’t. Her letter makes it sound as though you’ve been pursuing her ever since. What were you doing, Philip? Blackmailing her into having sex with you because you couldn’t get it from me?”

More silence.

What could he say? She’d caught him—and Leah—just as if she had walked in on them. It pierced her to the core. Philip sleeping with Bridget, LaToya or some other co-worker was one thing. But Leah? It was the harshest of infidelities.

She thought of Leah, recalling their last stilted conversation. She had known something was off. Now she knew what. Leah was afraid that in all the chaos of Sam’s disappearance, his murder and the sale of the house, the truth would come out.

Philip cleared his throat. “We never slept together after that one time. I swear it on our son’s grave.”

“Don’t you dare bring Sam into this!” she shouted. “How—?”

“He saw us, Sadie.”

She almost dropped the phone. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Sam walked in on us.”

“How could he have walked in on you if you were at her—?”

The air was sucked from the room.

“I assumed it happened when you drove her home,” she said, dazed. “But that’s not true. Is it, Philip?”

“No.”

She covered her mouth, horrified, sick to her stomach. “You both disappeared during the party for almost half an hour. Leah told me she’d gone to lie down.”

“She did, but—”

“And you said you were in your office.”

“I went upstairs to get my glasses,” he mumbled.

“So you had sex with my best friend. In our bed.”

There was a brief pause. Then he said, “One time, Sadie.”

“Once is more than enough,” she replied. “We’re done, Philip. Don’t call me again.”

“Sadie, wait! What about the—”

She calmly flipped the phone shut and stuffed it into the laptop case. Taking a slow, deep breath, she released it. “No loose ends.”

Determined to complete Sam’s book, she shrugged off her gloomy mood and set to work on the illustrations. Before long, she had finished a painting of Batty flying backwards into a tree. Next, she started on one of him cheerfully soaring toward the cave. By nightfall, it was finished.

She looked up at Sam’s photo. “Soon.”

Exhausted, she grabbed the wine bottle. There was no way she was taking any chances. She was not going to see dead children. Not that night.