A Mother's Second Chance: Part III
The Return Visit
Gail gripped the towel around her naked body tighter while wondering what gift they might possibly have for her. Whatever it might be, she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, it would be naughty.
"So what is my gift?" she asked quietly.
"Your gift Mom," William patiently explained to her, "is you have earned another challenge. Ali was very pleased by your performance tonight and is going to give you another chance to impress him."
Gail hesitated, looking at her son doubtfully before whispering, "Who is Ali?"
"Oh right, I almost forgot myself. You're still under the potion to make you forget things. Yeah, I think it would be OK to have the potion wear off like right about... now."
Gail blinked her eyes as her memories of the past eighteen or so months came rushing back to her.
"Wow," she said softly. "I really did forget what happened huh so I guess that was one wicked potion your friend gave me."
"Do you remember what we just did in the bathtub, Mommy?" Bobby asked sweetly.
"Yes... yes I do, hon, it was ahh... some bath... which brings up the question... the bath, that was my challenge right and I passed it I hope?"
William answered for them. "Yes you did and Ali is very pleased and hopes you are ready for your next challenge."
"I am, but how long do I have to wait this time. I hope not long, like before?"
"Just a few minutes this time. The fun and games will start as soon as you venture out of the bathroom but first you must take this."
He thrust a small plastic medicine cup in her hand with some sort of reddish looking liquid in it.
"What is this? Oh no, don't tell me another potion to make me forget things."
"Yes, but just enough to make you forget the past few hours, plus it will totally sober you up. Ali wants us to have a clean slate when we start playing with you again. Just like before your bath you will think it's just a mere four months after my death and you will be utterly sad and grieving and oh so lonely. After taking the potion your memory will consist of falling asleep on the sofa downstairs, coming up to take your bath, and then coming out of the bathroom with nothing but your towel wrapped around your naked body and from there things will proceed as they will."
He smiled before snapping, "Now no more questions, Mother as Ali is anxious to see if you can pass yet another challenge."
"What is my challenge exactly?" Gail asked despite what he said about no more questions.
"I can't tell you in any detail, other than once again you will be tasked with allowing us to have a bit of fun with you... make sure you burn that into your subconscious, Mom. Now drink the potion."
Gail sighed before bringing the cup to her lips, and just as she poured the sweet tasting potion into her mouth she noticed how they were both fading away before her very eyes. By the time she downed the elixir they were both gone - as were her memories of the immediate past.
After finishing her bath, Gail exited the bathroom, with just the towel wrapped around her body. Her best friend, an all-encompassing sadness that followed her everywhere since William's death, was at her side as usual, nipping at her heels.
After taking a single step inside her bedroom, she stopped.
"Jesus... what is this?" she whispered to herself as she peered about the bedroom.
Before her bath, as was her usual habit, she turned on both of the lamps sitting on the two nightstands flanking the bed.
Now they were off with the only source of light in the whole bedroom being a trio of small flickering tea light candles on the nightstand nearest to where she was standing.
Gail allowed herself a faint smile. There was only one other person in the whole world who knew she had a deep affection for candles: William. But he was gone, unless those quiet little signs she had been noticing more and more of late were an indication he really was not gone.
The signs were really nothing more than hearing a few muffled footsteps shuffling around upstairs when she knew the house was empty. Even more ominous though was the eerie feeling of being watched from time to time. Lately, in the past week that is, the feeling of being watched increased substantially, especially as she got undressed in her bedroom before going to bed at night.
Finally, just this past week in particular, she actually caught, on a couple occasions, faint whiffs of her dead son's favorite cologne. Again, this occurred especially at night, and especially in her bedroom.
And now this. Her heart skipped a beat as she took a tentative step or two into her bedroom.
Glancing about the room, she looked for any signs she wasn't alone. Finally, she spotted it. Placed on the bed was something, but in the muted light of the candles she could not quite tell what it was.
Crossing the room, she stopped before the bed.
It was a drawing. Looking at it, her knees nearly buckled. It was a simple crude crayon drawing of two stick figures--one big and one small. The small one was holding a flower out to the bigger one. Above the figure of the smaller one was a bubble coming from his mouth. The bubble, she remembered him pointing out to her so innocently those many long years ago, was what the little stick figure was saying to the bigger stick figure. "Pretty flower, for pretty, Mommy."
She remembered fondly how William had drawn this for her when he was all of maybe six or seven years old. Maybe even younger. Gail stashed it away with the rest of her keepsakes somewhere in her closet, but now it was here; sitting on the bed in all of its innocent glory.
She smiled faintly. Apparently, she was not so alone after all. Tears filled her eyes as the intense love she felt for her dead son flooded her heart.
Then she heard it, causing her heart to nearly stop. Footsteps. Small and muffled crossing the bedroom toward her. The picture slipped out of her hand, falling to the bed.
She wanted to turn around but was too stunned, or maybe scared to do so. Instead, she stood there, hardly breathing, listening as the footsteps, muffled by the rug, appeared to stop toward the foot of the bed. Gail listened intently, sure she could hear the sound of breathing by the foot of her bed.