The Candles Are Burning (Into Shadow collection) by Veronica G. Henry

Author:Veronica G. Henry [Henry, Veronica G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Amazon Original Stories
Published: 2022-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

Maggie hurried her inquisitive daughter off to bed soon after supper, and despite her protests, quick as a jitterbug, she was snoring softly. Maggie drew a hot bath and settled in to think. The candles were key—no doubt. From the restaurant to her vision, they persisted . . . but why? After sitting in the tub until the water turned cold, she hadn’t made heads or tails of any of it. She toweled off and slipped on her nightdress. She checked the doors and even shut and locked the window she normally left open for the nighttime breeze.

She eased into their shared narrow bed. Her eyes were like a cabinet door that refused to stay closed. Maggie got up and shuffled off to the bathroom, silently closing the door behind her. She leaned over the sink, massaging the back of her neck. That vision was about death, no doubt. But whose? Or maybe she hadn’t seen anything at all—

“Mama!”

There is no greater terror than hearing the scream of someone you love. Maggie yanked at the bathroom door, but it was stuck again. “Annie Mae!” She kicked at the bottom edge where it met the floor at an odd angle, then yanked again.

When it finally opened, she stumbled out to find her daughter in bed sobbing. “Where were you. It was dark and—”

“Shush.” Maggie slipped into bed, cradling Annie Mae. This had happened before. A part of Maggie, a part that wasn’t proud of it, almost resented the attachment. The clinginess, like the umbilical cord had somehow regrown between them. She hadn’t had a single moment to herself since she’d put her husband in the ground. And she immediately felt awful for thinking it. “Mama’s here.”

After her sobs abated, Annie Mae fell asleep again. When morning came, the child was back in good spirits and left for school with instruction for her mother to think about her business proposal. Maggie assured her she would.

As Maggie waved goodbye, panic seized her. The vision, the teddy bear. What if it meant . . . She grabbed her purse and sweater, deciding to walk her all the way there. “Now you wait for your uncle to pick you up—don’t walk home by yourself,” she said, a little too sternly.

She doubled back to the church and was sitting at her desk, struggling to concentrate, when Pastor Dunbar arrived.

“Morning, Mrs. Royal,” he said.

“Can I talk to you about something?” she asked, following him into his office. She had been wondering all night if what had happened when Francis died was connected. If it had unlocked her foremothers’ gift.

“What’s on your mind?” he said, lowering himself into his chair.

“When Francis died . . .” She paused, groping for the right words. “It was like I died with him—for a moment anyway. I floated. We floated above that whole scene. Then he was gone.”

The pastor rubbed his smooth chin and nodded. “I’m not surprised. Husbands and wives, parents and kids, even good friends. Yours isn’t the first time I’ve heard of someone close to the deceased having a similar out-of-body experience.

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