Widow's Walk

Widow’s Walk

By: Nick Westfall

Dedicated to: Jacob Babb

Even when I closed my eyes, I had an image burned in my mind that I wouldn't leave me head.  I saw a woman.  

The woman almost looked troubled.  I kept seeing her when I'd come home late at night and in my dreams.  She is there waiting for something.  Every time I tried to focus on her, my eyes started to water.  I don’t know if I should call out to her or not.  Since I moved here, all I've seen her do was stare out at the ocean. 

She looked like one of those owl statues that keep birds away.  I never saw her anywhere else besides the top balcony.  I also never see a car there.  And I never see any lights on in the house.  

I am tired of looking at her and not saying anything to her.  After working all day as a mariner, I walked inside my house, which thankfully did not smell like dead fish.  I put down my crude smelling work clothes and she was gone. 

“Hey." I started by saying hey in a tone that I actually wanted her to hear then finished the next sentence with just a murmur, "Ma'am, are you still there?"

No one answered.  I looked at her house and was very confused.  In the matter of 30 seconds, where did she go?  Why didn’t she have any lights on?  What is her name?

I went back inside of my house to find out what her name was again so I dialed the number.

I knew it was a stretch but I had to call them, “Sir we have a 209 Holden Ave and a 211 Holden Ave, but no 210.  Are you sure that the number is correct?”  I tried to get a new person each time I called to get more information about the place this lady was living in.  On my list were a lot of lines crossed through things like Craig realty, Holden Beach neighborhood watch, electric company, water company, town hall, and one of my last attempts just failed as she told me there wasn’t an account for the address I gave her.

“The number says 210 Holden Ave.  I have been living here for 3 months now and I am certain that this is the address for my neighbor's house.”  In my frustration I finished the conversation, “Thanks for trying.”

“Well, while we are on the phone would you be interested in….”

Click.

I wasn’t in the mood to hear her sales pitch after I had been on hold for 30 minutes.  I knew I needed to figure this out soon.

I went to bed frustrated again because I saw her and didn’t speak to her.  I’ll have to try again tomorrow.  The search was my motivation to wake up every morning because I hated work.  I couldn’t bare the smell every day.  Every time I called in sick, she never showed up on her porch like she ritually did when I came home from a ten hour shift.  So I have to work to answer the questions I had for this lady.

I tried to go to bed and I felt it again.  The bed was shaking as if someone were trying to wake me up for something important, like a warning.  The bed started to shake back and forth, back and forth.  Through my perversion I also thought it could be the act of two backs and no face.  Either way there was nobody there.  I slowly started to fall back asleep because this was nothing new.

“Crrrrrkrkkkekerkr,” the sound woke me up and I began to breathe deeply.  I opened my eyes and I could barely see anything but shadows of the coats in my closet.  I started to sweat with fear and my gasp for air felt like I was inhaling through a straw.  I was hoping this wasn’t anything new.    

“Dufffmfff,” I had a sigh of relief.  It was just the refrigerator.  The house was old and every time the refrigerator reached the desired temperature it shut off to save power.  That had to be it.  It was even hard to convince myself, talking to myself, to make myself go to sleep. 

I woke up the next morning early, like always.  I checked the outside clouds and it seemed like a storm was brewing up over the horizon.  No work today.  I learned my lesson from the last time I was in that awful storm. 

I used to have the greed of storm money.  When no one else went out for fish, the fish had more of a demand from the suppliers.  You could monopolize your fish.  You could have the supply that no one else had, and the demand from the buyers was so high that it was almost overwhelming at times.  I won’t risk my life for a quick doubling of my paycheck again.

I went outside to look to see if she was outside.  Sometimes she came out in the morning.  Sometimes she came out in the late evenings; either way she was very unpredictable. She wasn’t there but every time I look at that house it makes me think about how much I dreamed of having a balcony at the top of my house.  I could see storms from hundreds of miles away from there. 

“What the..." I walked down my stairs to the street.  My red flag, the indicator that I had mail to send out, was up again.  I was starting to think that I wasn’t receiving mail because someone kept putting my flag up.  Everyday someone put the outgoing mail sign up.  Damn kids.

As soon as I put the flag back down, I saw him driving down the street before mine. Perfect timing.  He’s coming again and maybe he will have some mail for me.  Maybe he can tell me why I haven’t received any mail in three months.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you.” Before I even tried to get a word out, he was answering my question.

Every time I asked the mailman if I had any mail he always said, ‘that it was a federal offense to open other people’s mailboxes.’  I didn’t know how he knew that I was thinking about checking the other mailboxes just to see if there was some kind of mix up, but he read me like a book.  I couldn’t ever get a word in with him.  He was one of those people who had to win conversations all of the time. 

When I watched the mail man pass with nothing in my box again, I became concerned that I haven’t received any mail from family, friends, work, or even bills.  I just missed the mail with my name on it.  I would pay for someone to send me some kind of mail with my name on it. 

After another disappointing mail visit I went to the beach for a little “me” time.  I sat there in my chair all the way until the sunset.  I was captivated by the beautiful colors from the clouds that were heading out this way.  Then I realized, I haven’t communicated with anyone I knew in a long time.  I forgot my name.  The storm was about to get to shore soon.

While I relaxed on the beach, I thought about what I needed to solve the mystery of her identity. So I dialed another number.

“Yes sir, I am having some trouble with kids messing up my mailbox.”

“What is your name?”  A question I was still trying to figure out.  I hadn’t spoken to another human being that knew my name.  Who did I know?

“Well it’s actually not my mailbox, it’s my neighbors.”

“Okay, what is your neighbor’s name?

“I don’t know.  I was hoping you could tell me.”

“What’s the address?”

“210 Holden Ave.”

“I thought it was you.  Sir you need to stop calling the station with this nonsense.  You’re getting a little old for pranks like this.”

I reached the guy I talked to yesterday.  “Could you tell me who lives there?  Please.”  My last plead to my own little mystery.

“You do.”

Click.

Who am I?

I walked back and looked at my mailbox that once again had the red flag up.  I decided that in life you have to pick and choose your battles or else your body will start to decay with defeat.  Then I saw her.  She was looking out to the ocean.  I decided that I was going to say something while I could see her, “Hey ma’am, beautiful evening isn’t it...” 

What happened next was one of those things that skips over short term memory and leaps straight into long term memory.  All of my senses heightened.  My palms started to sweat.  My joints started to wobble.  This image of her face stopped my breathing.  My heart seized to beat as her head dropped a sudden jerk motion to my direction.  I felt all of the hairs on my body tickle my skin with fright.  


She made a this inhumane twitch.  My eyes started watering because of the sudden movement of her head.  I was paralyzed.  My feet were cement. 

I tried to walk with my head turned watching her every move.  Another sudden movement from her and I was taking off as fast as possible to get into my house and lock all of the doors.  I was so scared because it seemed like her face became one of the old pictures with eyes that followed you no matter where you were the room.  Her eyes never left me.  The strange part was she looked familiar.

I finished the last ten steps up to my house with a sprint.  I slammed the door shut and felt suddenly fatigued.  When someone becomes in an overwhelming weight of fear you start to become lethargic. 

I calmed down and looked out of the window.  She was gone.  I started to rest as I questioned myself.  I made progress in the mystery, but how far does ambiguity go?  Was it worth my own life to find out?

I went to my bed and looked in the mirror.  I had to find out who she was or what she was looking for.  I will have to wait until tomorrow.  I needed to build up a foundation of strength before I go back out there.  My breathing finally started to slow down and I stopped sweating.

I fell asleep fairly easily compared to the previous nights.  I thought I was going to make it through the whole night but then she was back.  I couldn’t see her because I didn’t want to witness what my eye lids were protecting me from seeing.  She pulled at my toes.  I felt her grip on my feet like a noose; every time I struggle she gripped tighter.  I will just stay still and she’ll go away like last time. 

This time was different.

She let go of my toes.  Something else started happening.  I knew it wasn’t the sound of the refrigerator.  I could hear a hammering sound coming up my stairs. It sounded like a thousand footsteps pounding the boards of each step.  I can feel the vibrations in my floor.  My heart beat was racing. My blinds were shut down to the bottom of the window but each blind had a big enough gap to see through to the porch. 

I peeked through the gaps in the window and saw the quick shadows moving around the blinds.  I heard the sound of the door knob of someone trying to twist it open.  I could see the shadows now.  I tried to be as quiet as possible.  My eyes were watering and I couldn’t tell if I had locked the door or not.  Then after I left my bedroom to check the lock, my bedroom door immediately slammed SHUT! 

Oh my God.

I jumped to the couch and saw that the door to the kitchen was open.  I heard the scariest silence.  Suddenly in the silence I heard a whisper from someone outside, “John…if you’re out there let me know…show me a sign…or I will..."

My attention was zeroed in on the voice from outside.  I put my ear up closer and closer to the door so I could hear.  Then the side door opened and slammed shut. 

I’m getting out of here. 

I opened the door started running around the corner of the deck, jumped from the porch and landed into a pile of sand spurs, but my pain in my feet couldn’t describe the pain I was about to see.  I saw her again as I ran out to the middle of the street.  She needed help.  I looked back to see if anyone was chasing me from my house.  Then I saw she was standing on the edge of her balcony.  She finished what she was saying and my house caught on fire. 

A swan dive done at its perfection is a beautiful piece of art.  The way a human body can be manipulated into flips, turns, and twists just to finish with an entry that hardly creates a disturbance in the water is an amazing feat.  How do they let go of the fear of losing control in the air?  I wonder how long she practiced her swan dive before she landed on the pavement.

I used to think the top balcony was used to put sand in the chimney to stop fires.  I know the truth now as my body becomes translucent.  She said if she didn’t hear any response from her John, she was going to make the choice to be with him forever.  Forever is a question without an answer.  Forever is neither measured by time but a representation of time that starts and never ends.  Life is ever-changing and it has multiple paths of choice.  But death is our only true forever.  Death is an unchanged infinite. Once your dead, you're dead forever.

My body felt like it was fading away as the sun started to rise again.  She was looking for me out there in the ocean.  She knew I went out in the storm and didn’t return. 

When I ended up here, they didn’t give me a name.  I wanted to ask why but they kept telling me that if they gave people names, those people would carry their baggage with them.  Up here, there is no room for materials.  There are no husbands and wives here, just people. 

This place is surrounded by people who are clueless and lost.  I died and she was waiting for me.  I thought when I came here they would be completely out of their forgiveness supplies, but they weren’t.  They let me see her one last time.  My wife, as she dove off the Widow’s Walk awaiting my return from the storm.