THE DARK PROMISE

THE DARK PROMISE

Tara opened her eyes to see the arrival of dawn. Pale, blue curtains billowed on the breeze passing through the open window beside the bed. Marcus was still asleep, and she turned her head slightly to watch the rise and fall of his tanned chest. Everything about him filled empty places within her that had never been filled before. It had taken so long to find him but, once she did, she realized she had never truly known what love was until now.

Just a look from him was enough to put her heart in a state of rapture while his strong arms had the opposite effect, slowing the maddening rush of adrenaline and making her feel calm and content each time they encircled her body.

She loved to watch him sleep, loved to imagine that he was dreaming about her and their future together. But it was Monday and they both had to be at work in half an hour.

She moved closer to his warm body and pressed her lips to his bronzed shoulder. “Baby?”

He stirred slowly then opened his eyes.

“What time is it?” he whispered.

“It’s time to get up,” she told him, running a finger along the line of his jaw where dark whiskers were beginning to emerge.

He turned his head to look at her, his lips curving into one of those sexy smiles that made her seriously consider the option of both of them calling in sick.

“How’d you sleep?” he whispered.

She snuggled closer to him and slid her arm around his waist.

“Perfect,” she answered. “How about you?”

He moved his legs beneath the blanket, grazing the smooth skin of her thigh.

“I always sleep good with you here,” he told her.

“What did you dream about?” she asked.

He groaned playfully and rolled over, lowering his body on top of her. With her face gently cupped in his hands, his blue eyes stared down and she was enraptured once again.

“The only thing I ever dream about anymore,” he whispered. “You.”

They were both already twenty minutes late for work as they raced out of Marcus’s house.

“I’ll call you when I’m on my way home,” he promised before giving her one last kiss and hurrying toward his car. Tara smiled, slung her bag over her shoulder and opened the door of her own car.

“I don’t believe this,” she heard Marcus exclaim.

“What’s wrong?”

He circled his car while running his hands through his dark hair in silent exasperation. Tara shut the door and went to see what the problem was.

The car rested on four flat tires.

“What the hell happened?” Tara exclaimed.

“I don’t know. Somebody obviously came and did this.”

“But who would do that?” she asked.

Neither of them had any enemies. It had to have been a random vandal. Tara suggested they go to the police station to report it and inquire as to whether any other cars in the area had been tampered with the night before.

After visiting the police station and filling out a report, Tara drove Marcus to work before continuing on to her own job at the adult daycare center. The police hadn’t gotten any other reports of vandalism in the area and neither she nor Marcus could come up with so much as a theory as to who would have come out in the dark of night to puncture his tires.

On the way home, later that day, the event still plagued Tara’s mind. She began to think about things that had happened over the past few months that had little significance at the time but now seemed potentially relatable. She had been getting a lot of hang-up calls from untraceable numbers and, on a few occasions, had heard the neighbor’s dog barking late at night when Marcus had to work a double shift and she was home alone.

But, again, neither of them had any enemies or explanations as to why anyone would be harassing them. Tara’s last relationship had been two years earlier and he had already married someone else and had a child since then. The last woman Marcus dated had moved eight-thousand miles away the previous year for a job promotion. Neither had experienced any falling-out with family members or friends. There wasn’t a single person they could think of who would want to cause trouble for them.

Tara finally convinced herself that the vandalism to Marcus’s car was random and that the other strange events were unrelated and insignificant. She pushed away what she was sure had ballooned into paranoia. But that sense of optimistic logic was depleted three days later.

The ambulance raced down the road with its bright lights spinning and siren blaring. Tara was shaken up but not hurt. As a precaution, the police wanted her to be checked out at the hospital.

Rounding a corner not far from her house on the way home from work, she’d stepped gently on the brake. The car failed to slow down. Instead it swung hard around the corner and hit a large oak tree. The brakes had failed. At first it registered as nothing more than a scary accident. But as she lay in the hospital waiting for the doctor to tell her she could go home, her mind began to twist and turn, supposing it to be something more than an unlucky malfunction.

“Who would have messed with your brakes while you were at work?” Marcus asked her that night after he’d gotten her comfortably settled onto his sofa. “The parking lot is right on the main road and there are always people out there who would have seen.”

Tara pulled the warm, wet compress off her forehead and closed her eyes. “I don’t know.”

Marcus pushed her hair back off her face. “Thank God nothing happened to you.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek.

The logic of someone cutting her brakes in the busy parking couldn’t exist. They had to have snapped. It was just paranoia rearing its head again due to the scare. Sometimes bad things happened, she reminded herself. It didn’t mean they were all related, all fractions of one big terrible thing. It was an accident.

She burrowed her face into Marcus’s chest and exhaled slowly. She was safe now. Everything was alright.

“Marcus?”

Tara ran her hand along the sheet on the other side of the bed. She couldn’t see anything in the dark shade of the night, but she felt the obvious emptiness next to her.

“Marcus?”

The light in the adjoining bathroom wasn’t on. Surely if he had gone into the bathroom, he would have turned on the light. She reached over and switched the bedside lamp on. Maybe he’d gotten up for a drink. That actually sounded like a good idea to her and she got out of bed and slid her arms into his white shirt that had been discarded on the floor.

“Go home.”

Tara stood still and turned to look toward the bathroom.

“Marcus? What did you say?”

There was no reply and Tara pulled the shirt closed over her chest and walked toward the darkened bathroom.

“Marcus, what are you doing?”

As she approached the bathroom, the voice came again, this time angry. “Go home!”

Thoroughly confused, she stepped into the bathroom. “What is wrong?” she asked, flipping on the light switch.

There was no one in the bathroom.

Tara took three slow steps backwards before turning and running across the bedroom and into the hall.

“Marcus!” she screamed. “Marcus!”

Quick, heavy footsteps came running up the basement stairs and Marcus darted out in front of her, grabbing her by the shoulders. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“There’s a man in the bathroom!” she cried. “There’s someone here!”

There was no man in the bathroom. After looking around himself, Marcus called the police and two officers searched the house from top to bottom. Still, Tara couldn’t be consoled and refused to stay there.

“Honey, there’s nobody here,” Marcus assured her, cradling her body in his arms. “You must have been having a nightmare.”  

“No, I wasn’t!” she cried. “I was completely awake, and I heard a man talking. If there is no one here than I’m losing my mind.”

Locking up the house, they went to sleep at Tara’s. In the morning, she made arrangements to see a psychologist that afternoon. She’d heard a voice. There was no denying it. If she was hearing things that weren’t really happening, that in itself was terrifying.

“My childhood was pretty normal,” she told Dr. Marsh as she relaxed on the small folding cot in his office. “My parents got along. My brother and I got along. We’re all still very close.”

“Any history of mental illness in the family?” the doctor asked, his legs crossed and one knee balancing a pad which he kept a pen poised over.

Tara shook her head. “Well, maybe my aunt Linda,” she then commented. A slight laugh escaped her.

“That’s my father’s sister. He always said she was nuttier than squirrel droppings. I don’t know if she had a mental illness though. She was just sort of eccentric I guess you could say.”

“Ever hospitalized?”   

“Me? No! Oh, you mean Aunt Linda? I think they did take her somewhere for observation once. I don’t really remember a lot about it. I was a kid. I know she was always telling people that she was abducted by aliens.”

“And how long did that behavior persist?” the doctor asked.

Tara shook her head. “I don’t know. I remember her coming to our house and yelling at my father because no one believed her. I got scared because she lifted up her shirt and she had all these strange burn marks on her stomach.”

“Is she still alive?”

“I don’t know,” Tara said, shrugging. “My family hasn’t seen her in about thirty years. She just sort of disappeared.”

The doctor suggested she begin taking a medication for anxiety and come to see him once a week. He also thought it would be a good idea for her to take a week off work and go out and do something fun, outside of her normal routine, to reduce her stress level. She went home and called Julia.

Julia had been her best friend for over a decade. The woman was like caffeine in human form. She never seemed to stay still. If she wasn’t flying off to Jamaica or Hawaii for a weekend with a new boyfriend, she was planning singles karaoke parties at her house or gathering groups of friends for makeovers or manicures.

“This is gonna be so much fun!” Julia squealed as Tara climbed into the passenger seat.

“Bon Voyage is playing tonight. Have you ever heard of them?”

Without waiting for Tara to answer, Julia rattled on excitedly.

“So, the drummer is this guy, Keith. Ahh! Wait until you see him! He’s got long, dark hair and blue eyes. He’s basically my dream guy, right? Anyway, he just got divorced and I’m like hell yes, here I am!”

Tara laughed. In truth, all she really wanted to do was get back home to Marcus. But she was going to follow the doctor’s suggestion and commit to having a fun, carefree night out.

The band didn’t start for another hour, so they decided to have a quick dinner first. The large chalkboard listing the specials being served that evening hung on the wall and they perused it.

“Fish and chips maybe? No, I really don’t want to eat anything greasy,” Julia said. “I’m trying to eat healthier.”

“They have spinach wraps,” Tara suggested.

“Ooh, Tara, look!”

Julia pointed to a small cardboard sign taped up just to the right of the chalkboard.

“What about it?” Tara asked.

“There’s a psychic here tonight! Let’s go get our futures told!”

Tara rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the menu.

“I’m not into that stuff, Julia. It’s a waste of money. Let’s just go sit down and eat.”

Julia grabbed both of Tara’s hands and hopped from foot to foot. “Oh, come on! Please? I’ve always wanted to go to a psychic! Please? For me?”

“Julia, no. It’s a waste of money. This stuff is all fake. I’m not giving someone twenty bucks to make up a bunch of crap to tell me.”

“I’ll pay for you!” Julia exclaimed. “Come on!”

“Well, where is she?” Tara asked, as they stood just outside the green curtain covered doorway of what was probably some type of storage room or large closet within the establishment.

“I don’t know. Call her,” Julia said.

Another cardboard sign hung on the wall beside the doorway announcing, “Readings Tonight with Madame Opal - $20.”

“I’m not calling her. You call her,” Tara replied.

“Madam Opal,” Julia sang out. Then, as her attention was immediately caught by something else, her eyes got wide and she leaned toward Tara.

“Oh, my God! They’re here! The band just came in. They’re setting up. I’m gonna go talk to Keith!”

“Julia!” Tara called after her. But it was too late. Her best friend’s interest in the future had been squashed by her interest in the present.

Suddenly the curtain was pulled aside. A dark-haired woman with heavily lined eyes poked her head out and, noticing Tara, smiled.

“You may come inside,” she said softly.

Tara hesitated. She hadn’t even wanted to do this and now Julia was gone. She was left, however, to either follow Madam Opal or go sit by herself for the next hour. She let out a sigh and ducked under the curtain.

The darkness in the small room was broken by numerous candles flickering in the center of a table. Two chairs were positioned at the table, across from each other and Opal smiled and waved her hand toward one of them as she settled into the other. Tara pulled out the chair and sat down.

“What is your name, dear?” Opal asked.

Tara tried not to laugh. Shouldn’t the mystic already know that?

“It’s Tara,” she answered.

Opal slowly reached across the table.

“Give me your hands, Tara.”

Tara reached out and placed her hands in Opal’s. The psychic then closed her eyes, tilted her head back, inhaled deeply then let out a slow, steady breath. After several moments of weird silence, she finally spoke without opening her eyes.

“I see you are a very caring person. A nurse of some sort?”

The question jolted Tara.

“Umm…”

She quickly convinced herself it was just a coincidence and not entirely accurate either.

“I’m a nursing assistant,” she replied.

Opal nodded. “That is your calling. You are where you’re supposed to be. But something is not good.”

More awkward silence followed and Opal’s eyes closed tighter as if she was deeply concentrating on some vision. She began to shake her head slowly.

“You cannot escape the consequences,” she said.

“Of what?” Tara asked wryly, growing bored already with the dramatic entertainment.

“You made a promise. You should not have done that.”

“A promise to who?” Tara asked.

Opal began rubbing her thumbs over the tops of Tara’s hands, rolling her head slightly from side to side.

“You went to the lady in the woods. The witch. You should not have done that.”

Tara had no idea what she was talking about.

“Nathaniel. You wanted Nathaniel. It was not meant to be, but you went to the lady in the woods and asked her to make Nathaniel love you.”

Tara rolled her eyes. “I don’t know anyone named Nathaniel.”

Opal shook her head. “This is not now. Hundreds of years ago. Another time. Another place. The spell was done. Your desire was granted. The lady in the woods made it happen. She conferred with the demons.”

Tara pulled her hands free and stood up. This was insane. Opal quickly opened her eyes.

“I’m gonna go,” Tara said, reaching into her purse for the twenty dollars she just wasted.

“Tara, you must listen,” Opal said. “You are tied for eternity to Nathaniel. No matter what body or form he inhabits. You cannot love any other. It will not be allowed. The demons hold your promise. He is not a good person in this life. I see much pain for you. But you must keep your promise.”

Tara threw the money on the table.

“Thanks for a good laugh,” she said, turning to leave.

Opal stood up. “I see fire! Marcus will die if you don’t stay away from him.”

Again, a jolt ran through Tara’s body. How could she possibly know about Marcus? She stood there in shock for a few moments before realizing what was obviously going on here. Julia was trying to play a trick on her. Very funny. She turned and looked at Opal.

“Okay, you got me,” she said. “Have a nice night.”

“What time is it?” Tara asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Time to get up,” Marcus whispered.

She felt his warm lips on the rim of her ear and smiled.

“Mmmmm, do we have to?”

“We don’t have to. We can quit our jobs and stay here forever,” he said softly, nuzzling his face into her hair.

“Yes, let’s do that,” she said.

They were late to work again. But there had been no hang-up phone calls for two weeks. There had been no voices in the night. Marcus’s tires were in one piece and Tara’s brakes worked perfectly. Everything was going to be alright. Tara would go see her therapist later in the week and let him know that everything felt better.

She actually sang happily to the radio on the way to Marcus’s that evening. But as she turned onto his road, the music stopped. The sky was black and fire trucks blocked the road where the house had stood earlier that morning.