A Whisper in the Wind

The crumpled paper lay at Gwen's feet, flapping in the wind like a frantic bird. As she reached down to pick it up, her heart quickened. The message on the paper read, "A whisper in the wind for Gwen upon my deathbed. If you are reading this call 1-613-442-1037"

 Gwen's hands shook as she read the words over and over, trying to make sense of them. Who had left her this note, and how had it ended up at her feet? The sky above was a bleak gray, and the wind was cold and biting. Gwen hugged herself and zipped up her jacket, trying to ward off the chill. Ever since her parents had passed away, Gwen had been alone in the world, living on the streets and surviving as best she could. The note had thrown her off balance, and she didn't know what to do. Should she call the number on the paper, or was it a cruel joke? She didn't even have a phone to call from, and even if she did, could she trust the message?

Gwen stood there for a few more minutes, lost in thought. The trees rustled around her, and the wind continued to howl. She knew she couldn't just ignore the message, but she didn't know what to do. Finally, she decided to take a chance and seek help.

Gwen started walking towards the nearest phone booth, her heart heavy with worry. She hoped whoever had left her the note was okay and that she could somehow help them.

As she dialled the number on the pay-per-use phone, using her last quarter, she held her breath.

"Hello" croaked an elderly voice on the other end of the line.

"Uhm Hi, I have a note, and... your number was on it..."

"GWEN?!" the person on the other end exclaimed!

"H...How do you know my name? What is happening?"

"Oh honey, I am so sorry for your loss, did you get your note from your Dad? He sent it on the wind, in hopes it would find you or some silly nonsense like that. I can't believe it found you!"

“My father perished in a house fire years ago Ma’am. I think you’re mistaken.”

“No, honey, you thought your father perished in a house fire. He tried to come back for you, but he couldn’t find you, and couldn’t bear to tell you what he had done.”

The mystery of her parents’ suspicious fire death had never been solved, and Gwen’s interest was piqued. Had her father lived and spent his life looking for her, only to find her in death?

“Lady, I don’t know what you think you know, but I am scared. You’re scaring me. I don’t know who you are, or where you are, or anything about a living father. My father, Douglas P. Manser died in a fire alongside my Mother Elma Manser, with my dog Frankie. I was the only survivor and escaped on my own into the night. I’ve been living on the streets since, and I don’t have time for ga…”

The end of the phone call shocked Gwen, she had lost track of time, and the pay-per-use-phone had cut her off. She didn’t have a quarter to call back, but she sure as hell had a lot of questions left unanswered.

As she sat there lost in thought, she let out a heavy sigh and made a decision. She wanted to know more about the fire that had changed her life forever, and she was willing to walk six long blocks to the library to find out. She desperately hoped she'd find some missing pieces of information that could help her solve the mystery of her past. She couldn't help but wonder if her parents had survived the blaze that had destroyed everything she had ever known. Although it had been over a decade since that fateful day, she still couldn't comprehend why her parents had not come for her if they were in fact living somewhere. She was only 13 at the time, after all. The longing for answers still burned within her, and she was determined to find the answers, no matter the cost.

Gwen's heart was racing as she walked into the library, her eyes darting around the room as she tried her best to blend in with the crowd. She felt self-conscious about her appearance, knowing that she looked like an under-housed person with her backpack of clothing and unkempt hair. Despite her efforts to clean up, there was only so much she could do without access to a shower.

"Ah, back for more research, Ms. Gwenyth?" the librarian snidely remarked. She seemed convinced that Gwen only used the public library as a shelter from the cold. The librarian was completely unaware of the circumstances that led to Gwen's homelessness, and like many others, assumed that it was due to drug use.

As she approached the librarian's desk, she tucked her dirty blonde curls behind her ears and smiled nervously. The warmth of the library hit her like a wave, comforting her cold cheeks, hands, and thighs. She made her way to the computer and quickly began her archive search, her eyes scanning the headlines.

"Suspicious Fire Kills Three," read the first headline. She knew them all by heart now. "Only One Body Found in Fatal House Fire of Three." "Police Closing Investigation of Maple Lane House Fire," read the third. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't find any new clues to the mystery that had suddenly appeared before her.

A sudden spark of inspiration hit her. She remembered hearing about a reverse phone lookup service on Google. With trembling fingers, she typed in the number and hit enter. The name that appeared on the screen made her heart sink. Lila Manser. It was her last name. How had the woman she had spoken to gotten her info? And more importantly, who was she? She began furiously searching the internet for articles or leads on Lila Manser. She found her Facebook page and took a deep breath. She knew she had to send a message, but what was she to say? She created a profile with her name, and no photo, and sent a friend request that was instantly accepted. She was online, right now! Gwen opened the chat bubble to see Lila was already typing…

“Oh Honey, what happened on the phone… never mind that! Hi, I’m your Auntie Lila, you must have so many questions, that I don’t know where to start. Where are you? Could we meet?”

Auntie Lila? She never recalled having an Aunt before. Confused and a little swept up in the intensity of it all, Gwen responded: ‘Hi, I am at the public library, but they close in an hour. There’s a café nearby we can go to, it’s called ‘Chez Café’ they sometimes have tabs on the wall for prepaid meals and coffee, I go there often. Say… 6 pm?”

“See you then, Honey”. Lila logged off.

Gwen could feel her heart beating faster and faster as she walked towards the coffee shop where she was supposed to meet her mysterious Aunt. She wondered if it was a good idea to meet someone she barely knew, but her curiosity was eating her alive. As she approached the shop, she could see a woman sitting at a table, her eyes fixed on her. Gwen's heart skipped a beat. Was this woman really her Aunt? She couldn't be sure, but something in her eyes told her she was. Gwen took a deep breath, pushed open the door, and walked towards the table. What did she have to lose? Certainly not a life of satisfaction and success.

“How are you my Aunt?” she blurted demandingly before sitting down.

“Well, Hello Honey, I…”

Gwen's nerves were on edge, and her patience was wearing thin. She had never been one to snap at anyone, but the woman on the other end of the table was pushing her buttons. "Please stop calling me 'Honey'. It's weird," Gwen said firmly, her voice shaking slightly.

As she spoke, the image of her father flashed before her eyes, and her heart ached with longing for him. The woman's resemblance to him only made the ache more intense. But Gwen was determined to put her emotions aside and get to the heart of the matter.

No longer the shy and timid Gwen, she felt a newfound confidence rise within her. This was her chance to get the clarity she'd been seeking for so long. It was time to get down to business and uncover the truth.

“Your father and I were adopted. That’s why you never met or had any grandparents. We were separated at birth; twins. We found each other after the fire, and he asked me to keep his identity a secret. Please sit. There’s much to discuss, and I don’t want to upset you. Please. Take a seat.”

Gwen's mind was in turmoil with countless questions swirling around, making the room spin. She had to sit down to steady herself. Reluctantly, she grabbed the rusted metal chair from the café table and sat, planting her feet firmly on the ground ahead of her. She locked eyes with the woman who was shaking her world to its very core. The woman's intense gaze was unsettling, yet Gwen couldn't look away. She could feel her heart racing as she prepared for what was about to come next. The air around them was charged with tension, and Gwen knew that her life would never be the same again.

“Go on” she implored of Lila.

“Your mother… I mean… I don’t want to tell you this, but the quick version is she was an alcoholic and an angry one at that… do you remember Hon- I mean Gwen?”

“Yes. I remember.” Gwen's voice was shaking, as was her body, but her conviction in her answer was solid, firm, she had remembered it like it was yesterday, the last memory of her mother... the one where she hit Gwen over the head with a baseball bat.

“She hurt your father and you very badly that night, and well… to skip to the relevant parts. He burnt the house down to free you two. The problem was, he had nowhere to go and didn’t know how to take you with him.”

“What? He killed my mother and escaped?”

“Yes. Do you remember how you got out of the burning building Gwen?”

“No, I woke up in the woods, covered in ash and coughing. I found the house had burnt down in the early hours of the morning when I tried to find my way home from where I was… I… what are you trying to tell me?”

“Your father was tending to you for a concussion from your mother that night, He carried you out of the fire and left you on the ground where he thought Child Protective Services would find you. He had hoped you’d end up in a lovely home with people more able to care for you and give you the life you deserve. Obviously, he had to be on the run…. So, he found me… and I swear Gwen, he never stopped looking for you… not for one second. Once he was on his feet, and until the day he died, he longed for you to know the truth.”

Gwen was in disbelief as tears filled her eyes. It seemed impossible, yet everything suddenly made sense. The resemblance, the note... Her father would always tell her that he would send his love on a 'Whisper in the Wind' whenever he had to go to work or anywhere without her. The realization hit her hard as she began to shake uncontrollably, sobbing uncontrollably.

“There's something I need to tell you that might come as a surprise. I know it might be difficult to hear, but there's something important you need to know. You have family and, well, to put it bluntly, your dad saved every penny he could and left everything to you. He was a true penny-pincher, but it was all for you. When he passed, I did something I never thought I would do. I told my boss, the chief of police, everything - the truth. They could no longer convict him, and she agreed to keep it quiet. We've been looking for you ever since. What's even more incredible is that your dad left you his house! Yes, you heard that right - a home. He also left you all of his money. Can you believe it? Before he took his last breaths, he asked to go to the window of the hospital. By the way, he had cancer, which we all know is a result of smoking for years. Anyway, he dictated a note to me and asked me to drop it out the window. He said it would find you in a whisper in the wind. I didn't know what that meant, but he said you would. So, do you understand what I'm saying? You have a house, money, and most importantly, a family. I hope this news brings you some comfort and joy.

Gwen was absolutely dumbfounded and flabbergasted. She didn't know how to respond. She closed her eyes, feeling like it was all just a dream. Her head was pounding, her eyes were tired, and the room was spinning and swirling. She leaned over the side of the chair and expelled the contents of her measly lunch onto the café floor. She could hear voices around her, but they were muffled and unclear. She felt like she was dying. Suddenly, everything went black.

It wasn't the first time Gwen had blacked out. This happened often, likely as a result of the many concussions she endured at her mother's hands as a child that were left untreated. She could feel something sinister brewing in her stomach whenever they happened, though, and it puzzled her.

She awoke feeling stiff and uncomfortable. She looked around and saw that she was in a room with pink walls, yellow curtains, and furniture. She couldn't remember how she got there. The last thing she remembered was entering a café, but then she wondered if it was just a dream. Did she really meet someone claiming to be her Aunt? She felt a pang in the back of her neck and wondered if she had hit her head.

As she stood in the dimly lit room, a sudden surge of intense anger welled up inside her. She couldn't help but wonder if her father, who had abandoned her on the streets years ago, was actually a vigilante murderer. The thought sent shivers down her spine.

She slowly turned her head to the right and caught sight of a kitchen and dining room, complete with a small dinette. The sheer femininity of the space made her wonder if she was in Lila's house.

As she crept closer to the kitchen, her eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail. She spotted a large butcher's block sitting on the counter and couldn't resist the urge to grab the biggest, sharpest knife. The cool metal felt reassuring in her hand as she clutched it tightly, ready.

Gwen, barefoot and trembling with rage, moved stealthily through the darkened house, her breaths shallow and rapid. The first rays of dawn were beginning to filter through the windows, casting an eerie glow on the surroundings. She made her way to a set of creaky stairs, the old wooden boards protesting loudly under her weight. She paused briefly, listening intently for any sounds of movement, before continuing on her mission.

After what seemed like an eternity, she reached a closed door, which she slowly pushed open with a soft creak. The room was small and filled with the musty scent of old pipes. She quickly scanned the space, finding nothing of interest. She moved a little further down the hall, her eyes darting left and right, searching for any sign of her target.

Finally, on the opposite, left-hand side of the hallway, she spotted a door that was open just a tiny crack. She peered inside and saw a pair of feet poking out from under a pink duvet. Her heart racing, she dropped to the floor, that awful feeling in the pit of her stomach taking over. Her raged-filled body succumbed to the blackout once more.

In the back of the police car, Gwen regained consciousness. She was horrified to find herself covered in blood and stained clothing. The officer said, “Welcome back, I guess you have a place to call home now. It’s a quaint concrete six-by-eight cell”.

As it turns out, Gwen suddenly recalled the events of the night preceding the fire. Gwen had stabbed her mother to death. She awoke from one of her regular blackouts, and her father had cleaned her up, with her watching as he lit the house on fire. He was trying to save her, thinking she would only kill her mother who had hurt her. Protecting a monster.

Gwen sat in the seat, rocking back and forth, unable to speak, save for a tiny mutter of “A whisper in the wind”.