The Haunting Past Has Risen

THE HAUNTING

PAST HAS RISEN

Fiction

Written

By

Pattie A. Jones

Cover illustrated by Ty-Juan Jones

Copyright © 2000 by Pattie A. Jones

      Except for short exerts, no parts of this publication may be reproduced.

Acknowledgements

I dedicate this book to my children and my grandchildren. I give a special thanks to all of my family members and friends for cheering me on. And most of all, I thank my heavenly Father for the gift of writing, and His love, wisdom, and goodness.

PROLOGUE

The ocean had grown dark along with the sky, and the two became as one in the horizon. The moon peeked through muddy clouds in the upper atmosphere. Gentle winds escorted soft waves of ocean water onto a sandy beach, washing away various footprints, as if no one had ever been there. The sound of the constant sway of water was soothing, and much needed as a young woman walked along the shore of white sand, alone. As with many times before, she was overwhelmed by the beauty around her that stretched on for miles. It was near midnight. She had waited until then to be there. When sunbathers, surfers, and beach fanatics were long gone, she felt as if the beach belonged to only her. Her sandals dangled from her hand as she held them by their back straps with just her forefinger. She enjoyed the soft waves splashing against her bare feet as she went further down the beach than she had ever gone. The pleasantry of it was a desired dream in comparison to the nightmare of her reality.

  As she tired, a spot beneath an overhang of a seven foot cliff, several yards from shore, beckoned her to have a seat. She leaned back against a rugged wall that led up to the cliff’s overhang. She hugged her knees to her chest, and burrowed her toes in the sand as she looked out at a fishing pier a slight distance away.

  Six bright lamps mounted atop of poles were strategically placed along the pier, but none intrude on the shadowed space beneath the cliff. She felt secure there.

  She looked down at her hands as they trembled. They were once as steady as a surgeons, but now shook constantly. She clasped them together, but still they shook from fear of what she had gotten herself into, and was uncertain of what the outcome would be.

  She felt as if she were stuck in a bad movie, and she was the woman about to marry the villain, unaware of the awful things he had been accused of. She felt betrayed being kept in the dark for so long that she had fallen in love with a monster.

  She closed her eyes wishing the media was wrong about him, and as the image of her fiancé’s face faintly appeared in the back drop of darkness, she heard a car coming up the parking lot. The interruption forced her eyes to open, then dart in that direction.

  A dark colored Caddy pulled into a parking space by the pier. A single street light in that section of the parking lot had a faint glow which gave the impression that its bulb wouldn’t last much longer. Three men got out of the car and their footsteps nearly fell in sync as they walked toward the pier. The closer they got to it the better the young woman could see the three men, and she gasped realizing one of them was being escorted at gun point. Although tucked away in the dark, she still hoped they wouldn’t look her way and spot her yellow sundress. The three men stopped midway on the pier and one of its lamps shined down on them like a spot light. 

  The young woman’s heart pounded when she recognized two of the men. As it turned out, the media was right about her fiancé after all. Tears lined the edges of her eyes as she stared at him standing on the pier like a common gangster along with one of his right-hand-yes-men. She didn’t recognize the man held at gun point, but could tell that he was, small in stature, and bald.

  The young woman fidgeted with an engagement ring on her finger as she watched her fiancé light a cigarette, and like a soldier on guard duty, he paced back and forth in a short straight line. She couldn’t make out what was said, but it seemed the bald man was pleading for his life. Her fiancé suddenly stopped pacing and threw his cigarette on the ground, and with a calm demeanor, he gazed at the bald man. The pause of silence was unnerving. Then the young woman jumped, and to keep from screaming, her hand flew to her mouth when a single shot was fired. Her eyes closed briefly in anguish as the bald man dropped like a bag of rocks onto the pier. Her fiancé casually stood over the bald man’s body as his yes-man, or preferably his pawn, searched the bald man’s pockets.

  The young woman stayed very quiet, and very still, as the pawn threw the bald man’s body over his shoulder as if he indeed were a bag of rocks. The pawn walked down to the end of the pier and threw the body in the ocean. Her fiancé and the pawn casually walked back to the car and shortly after their doors slammed shut, they drove off.

    Stunned, the young woman’s hand stayed clamped over her mouth. As the car disappeared from sight, she wished the waves that now thrashed onto the beach would wash away what she had just seen. An eye witness and she still couldn’t believe it. She lowered her shaky hand from her mouth and looked at the five carat

diamond ring on her finger. She took it off and let it drop in the sand as she slowly trudged down the beach, each step heavier and harder to take than the one before. Like a clueless fool she had spent a year with the likes of him. How could she have been so blind to the things he had done? But even so, what were the odds that she just happened to be on the beach, in that particular spot, at that particular time? She believed it was the good Lord’s way of showing her fiancé’s true colors. Now her quest was to walk away from him with no unforeseen consequences.

CHAPTER ONE

It appeared as if the whole world was a winter wonderland as Pam looked out at six inches of snow that had fallen through the night. Winter was her nemesis; especially when snowflakes covered the outdoors like a cold blanket. Beautiful at times, but usually accom-panied with intolerable temperatures to a girl who shivered at the slightest summer breeze. Bending over to strap on her boots, she suddenly sprung back up like a jack in the box. Feeling sick again, she fought hard not to throw up right in the middle of the floor. Her life was changing for the worst, and so was her body. She had just turned sixteen last week, and never dreamed she would end up pregnant that young. It was devastating and unfair to pay a price that big for only a moment of weakness that she was constantly reminded of. Soon everyone would know about her, and as the lead singer in the youth choir at church, she was sure to get condemning looks and condemning comments from church folks.

    But as the class president of the tenth grade, she was counting on her classmates to be more understanding. She stood there, in her oversized clothes, holding her stomach and praying nausea would soon pass. As she took in a deep breath, a knock on the door startled her. She wiped her teary eyes with the back of her hands and rushed to sit on the side of the bed that faced away from the door. When the door opened, she looked over her shoulder at her mother poking her head in.

  As always, Lois was in a good mood. I wasn’t sure if you were up yet, she said. The smile on her light brown face, of forty nine years, gleamed and then quickly faded when she realized her baby girl had been crying. You okay? she asked. Pam nodded, then turned away from her mother. Lois watched her, hoping it was just a little heartbreak over a boy that had her so obscure lately, and she would be back to her old self soon. Don’t stay up here too long, she said. I don’t want you to be late for school. She closed the door satisfied to at least get another nod from her daughter.

  Pam exhaled when the door latch clicked. She wanted to lock it. So far she had managed to hold back the urge to throw up. The technique of slow deep breaths was working, but after a few more, she was starting to lose the battle when some salty tasting saliva

filled her mouth, and her stomach gave a hard jerk. She peeked out her bedroom door relieved her mother had gone in another room. She ran along the hallway to the bathroom two doors down. Barely making it in time, she bent over the commode, and a fowl liquid spewed from her mouth like a fountain. For thirty seconds her stomach strained as it heaved over and over to eject everything within it. Finally as it began calming down she was able to catch her breath. Seven months pregnant, she thought morning sickness would have ended by now. Maybe something was wrong with the pregnancy, she hoped, but then again, hoped not. At the sink she cuffed her hands under cool running water and rinsed her face as if trying to drown herself. As she dried off with a towel, she looked in the mirror mounted over the sink. The adorable medium brown face staring back at her was too young to be a mother.

  She sat on the side of the tub, tired physically, and tired of worrying. She wished the baby would go away, and resented it putting her in that kind of situation, with a father like hers.

  Dr. Wade Simmons was hard to talk to, and hard to love. But, she loved him anyway. It would be nice if their conversations could be more in depth than, how was school, and has she thought about which college she wants to go to. And, it would be even better if they could talk about all of the babies he delivered on a daily basis, then she could casually slip in, oh, by the way, I’m pregnant too. OMG, I’m really pregnant, she said softly. The reality of it hit her hard every day. If her father kept from blatantly killing her, he would probably make her wish he had. He had a habit of unleashing his easily agitated temper on his four kids. Lois would always try to comfort them, saying he only does it because he loved them.

  Ever since Pam could remember, she prayed nearly every day that he would get control over his temper, or at least talk to somebody about why he acts that way. It might not be easy for him to change, but he should at least try.

  If asked to describe her father, she would say he was, Dirty Harry, Rambo, and the terminator all rolled up into one, and that was not good for anyone on the receiving end of his wrath. She buried her face in her shaky hands imaging what he might do to her. Soon he would know that his baby girl was having a baby. Good girls stayed celibate until married was what he had preached all of her life. But none of that mattered seven months ago at a so called party that her

best friend Sandy had thrown. Sandy pleaded with her to come. Then, what started out as a little white lie to her parents, just to go to the party, had escalated into pregnancy. Wade never liked Sandy, and never had a problem expressing it. To him, Sandy was nothing but trouble, and with her being three years older than Pam, it only made things worse. The older they got, the more he emphasized their age difference. He figured Sandy should have been, BFF’s, or BF’s with one of his two older girls. But Sandy never took to them, and they hardly ever acknowledged that she existed.

  Pam felt her backside getting numb sitting on the side of the tub. It’s because of this stupid baby, she mumbled and scooted for-ward a little, feeling mad at the baby, mad at Wade, but only partially mad at Sandy. No matter how hard she tried to be fully blown mad at Sandy, she flashes back to the time Sandy made a small cut in the palm of their right hands. And they put their hands together to be blood sisters. It don’t matter what color our skin is, Sandy said. Blood is blood. For us, I’m not white no more, and you’re not black. We’re the same. Pam believed it, and like a blood sister Sandy was always at their house. She liked soul food, and Lois was good at cooking it. Sandy took no offense to Wade’s ways, said it made her feel like a part of the family when he would fuss at her as he did at his own kids.

  Pam looked down at her rounding stomach. Her father would find a way to blame Sandy for this as well as everything else he blamed her for. But looking back on it, Pam figured it was Sandy’s fault for throwing a party that had set the scene for what might be considered a double sin. The first sin was the lie about Sandy’s parents being home that night, and the second sin, a baby in the belly of a sixteen year old. Too late to take it back, and too late to pretend it never happened.

  Pam folded her arms high across her chest, brooding, wishing she had stuck to what she knew was right that night and left instead of letting Sandy talk her into staying. Especially after she found out it would only be her and her boyfriend Carl there, and Sandy and her boyfriend Ben, and a whole lot of liquor.

It was her first time drinking alcohol, and after a few cans of beer and a glass of scotch, it was as if memories of that night had been erased from her mind. And the hangover the next day, made her swear to never drink liquor again.

  She found it strange, the curiosity she’d had about being intimate with a man, was still a curiosity. The only evidence that anything happened between her and Carl, was the baby in her belly.

  Several times she had rehearsed how to tell Carl that they were having a baby, hoping he would somehow be less devastated about it as she was. A preacher’s kid and one of the nicest boys she had ever met, was the reason she liked him, besides being cute.

  The day after the party, she and Carl had talked on the phone for hours trying to rid themselves of guilt. Drinking and carrying on like newlyweds that night was the first time for Carl as well, and they agreed it was a mistake. Pam remembered nearly dropping the phone when Carl admitted he didn’t remember anything that happened between them at Sandy’s either. That night, everything they had been taught about staying celibate until married, and to just say no to drugs and alcohol, went right out the window.

  I’m gonna pay for this the rest of my life, Pam thought, sighing sadly, scared that her father might go old school and make Carl marry her. Marriage would be nice, if he asked her on his own, but not just because of a baby. Maybe one day in the future they might get married under better circumstances, because a baby alone wouldn’t make their marriage last.

    Startled, Pam sprung to her feet when the rhythm, Shave and a Haircut, was suddenly tapped out on the bathroom door. She shuffled over to the toilet, and flushed it. Then making her way to the sink she looked at her face in the mirror again. Why me? she said.

  Lois heard Pam’s muffled voice from the other side of the door and started banging on it. Pam, you all right? she yelled.

  Pam had to calm herself before she answered. Yeah, I’m fine.

  Well, what you doing in there?

  Pam stifled sounding irritated. Nothing! she said, and braced herself before she turned the lock and opened the door. The worry on Lois’ face slowly dissipated when Pam conjured up a big smile. See, I’m fine.

  I hope so, Lois said. But if I don’t worry about you girls, who will?

  Pam kissed the round of her mother’s cheek. Daddy will.

  Lois snorted softly, but could hardly hide the concern for her baby girl.

  She had questions she wanted answered, but would let them slide for now. She had raised her children to trust God, and walk the straight and narrow road. The one less traveled, especially by young folks now days. And anything her children had to tell her, they could come to her freely.

  Lois swatted Pam on her backside, playfully. Go eat. You’ve been skipping breakfast too much lately, and I don’t want you leaving here hungry again today.

  Pam started down the hallway for the stairs, then stopped, and turned to watch Lois carry a laundry basket into the bathroom. A soft smile slowly spread across her face hearing the sweet sound of Lois singing, Amazing Grace. Her contralto voice bounced off the bathroom walls, and flowed out into the hallway like smooth silk.

  Pam snorted. Folks were always saying that she was just like Lois. Wade would say it more than anybody. But as far as she knew, Lois was never pregnant at sixteen. And folks won’t be saying that she was just like Lois for long, especially Wade.

  As Pam slowly walked down the hallway, she thought about how her father was always more cordial when he got back from fishing. Whatever being on the water with a rod in his hands did for him, she wished she could bottle it and throw some of it on him when needed. As young as four years old she had realized her parents were opposites, and had always been grateful for it. But telling Lois about the baby was as worrisome as telling Wade and Carl.

  The disappointment it would cause, might jam a wedge between a mother and daughter that used to be so close. Ever since she was five, she and Lois had mother and daughter time together once a month. It would be just the two of them doing whatever Pam desired. But they haven’t done it since she was three months pregnant. Lois keeps asking about it, but Pam keeps making excuses not to go, and was running out of them. If anything, she needed that time with her mother. But a daughter pregnant at sixteen, might be the only thing that Lois could not handle as graciously as all the other crap her family had thrown at her.

  Downstairs Pam stood in the kitchen entrance. So far, she had been up for an hour, and within that time it felt as if she had gone through a year’s worth of stress. She felt beads of sweat forming on her brow watching her father at the table with his laptop. As he

stared at its screen he ignored a bowl of  oatmeal Lois had fixed for him. She insists that they all at least have a healthy breakfast.

  Pam looked at her father, dark skinned, about six feet tall, and built like Hercules. She wanted to confess to him and let the chips fall wherever. Just saying the word pregnant around him made her uncomfortable, but now she had to tell him she was that word. She wished she could be like Janet, she wasn’t as scared of him as the rest of his children were. Janet’s temper was equal to his and easily agitated like his. She was always in trouble with him in one way or another. But she had crossed the line with him the time she ran away from home. He never got over it, or the time Linda nearly killed herself. He won’t speak of it, but the scars of its effect on him were still apparent. Pam felt guilty knowing it was her turn to break his heart the way her sisters had about five years ago.

Back then—it was near two in the morning when Janet got out of Bobby Johnson’s vintage 77 Charger. She was in trouble, and she knew it. She should have been home by eleven. Wade said so. The Charger rumbled in the driveway making the windows on the house vibrate. Janet told Bobby to leave, and not to wait for her to get in. But he insisted on waiting, make sure she got in okay. She trudged toward the front door hoping to sneak in the house without waking anyone, most of all, her father. She unlocked the door and opened it slowly, trying to subdue the creaks that it normally made. It was dark and quiet in the house, a sign that all was well. She waved at Bobby, and just as she closed the door she heard footsteps above her moving fast down the hallway towards the stairs, then down the stairs. And as Wade came straight toward her she stood still, wide-eyed, and swallowed her breath.

  To her surprise, he brushed past her and snatched the front door open. It slammed loudly against the wall behind it. He wanted the boy, first. Then he would deal with her. She ran outside after him.

  Bobby saw Wade coming. Having just learned to drive a stick shift, his hands shook as he struggled to put the car in reverse. Wade was inches from snatching Bobby’s car door open when his tires screeched as he backed out of the driveway.

  Wade watched the Charger speed down the street. Bobby disregarded a stop sign as he sped around the corner.  Wade’s eyes narrowed as he turned toward Janet. "I told you to be back at eleven. As long as you live in my house, you will never go out with

that boy again, or any other boy. And you can forget about your class trip to New York."

  But that’s not fair.

  "Too bad! Now get your butt in the