began whispering to it.
Arty went to an antique wooden desk in the far corner of the room and pulled a white iPod from one of its drawers.
“Mom?” he said. “Why don’t you listen to your sounds for awhile? Jim and I are going to go do something with the kids for a bit.”
Maria took the iPod from her son and gave the device a look of resentment. “Oh Arthur, I’ll fall asleep.”
“The sounds are good for you, Mom, you know that. Jim can get you one of your pills.” Arty turned and looked at his brother. Jim immediately picked Caleb off his lap and went towards the kitchen.
“James, wait,” she called.
Jim was already in the kitchen; there were sounds of cabinets opening and a glass of water being filled.
Maria sulked. “Arthur, I really don’t want to go to sleep just yet.”
Jim returned with a pill in one hand, a glass of water in the other. He played his part. “We won’t let you sleep through the night, Mom. Promise.”
Arty leaned in and kissed his mother’s forehead. He then helped her out of the sofa and guided her towards the big recliner. “Just a little rest, that’s all,” he said.
Maria sat and Jim handed the pill and water to her. He too then leaned in and kissed his mother’s forehead.
Maria placed the pill in her mouth and drank from the glass.
“Just for a little while, Ma,” Arty said again.
“You won’t leave before waking me?”
“No, of course not,” Jim said.
Arty took the iPod out of his mother’s lap and fiddled with a few buttons before handing it back to her. “I put the ocean sounds on. I know you like those.”
“They remind me of when your father and I would visit Avalon,” she said.
“I know they do, Ma.”
She nestled the headphones into her ears, leaned back and closed her eyes.
“Good?” Arty asked. His tone was very loud—for a reason.
Maria opened her eyes and pulled one of the headphones from her ear. “Did you say something, Arthur?” she asked.
“No, Ma,” Arty smiled. “Go back to your sounds. I love you.”
Maria plugged the earphone back into her ear, blew a kiss at her two sons, and waved to the two children standing by the family room’s entrance.
Both kids waved back—Caleb’s sincere, Carrie’s an impatient courtesy.
Maria smiled, leaned back in the recliner, and closed her eyes again.
Arty whispered to Jim, “She won’t hear a thing.”
Both brothers turned away from their mother and approached Carrie and Caleb. Arty squatted down in front of the kids and asked, “Okay—you ready to go see what Mommy and Daddy are up to?”
48
Patrick and Amy Lambert watched Arty and Jim attend to their mother on the TV. They watched them move her to the recliner. Watched them give her a pill and a glass of water. Watched them give her the iPod. And they watched her wave to their children before leaning back and drifting off to sleep. One might have surveyed the scene as two sons doting over their elderly mother.
Patrick and Amy saw two sick men showcasing ulterior motives.
When the two men and their children left the family room—and the TV screen—the sounds that followed for the couple were akin to the executioner loading his rifle.
Heavy footsteps climbing wooden stairs.
Tiny footsteps climbing wooden stairs—their babies’ footsteps.
Closer now…
The footsteps stopped. Shadows slid back and forth beneath the bedroom door. A sudden knock to the tune of “Shave and a Haircut” followed by a voice, deep and friendly. “Anybody home?”
49
October 1986
Hamilton Elementary
Guidance and Counseling Office
Philadelphia, PA
Joanne Lynch, the school psychologist and guidance counselor at Hamilton Elementary, was young for her accomplishments at just over thirty, and was as passionate about her job as an artist to his craft.
Today she would be taking a shot at the Fannelli brothers. Three months ago their father died in a horrible boating accident in Downingtown, Pennsylvania. The reason Joanne Lynch was taking time after school hours to sit down and talk with these boys was because in the two months since they’d returned to Hamilton, the boys had exhibited no signs of children coping with the loss of a parent. No signs whatsoever.
This behavior concerned their teachers, and more notably, their mother. And it was only their mother’s concern that made the brothers agree to stay after school and listen to what this woman had to say.
* * *
“Can I get you boys a soda or something?” Joanne Lynch asked once the brothers were seated.
The office was blatantly inviting. Posters were wallpaper, most inspirational,