A Typical Day

A Typical Day

A Chapter by Wendy Seames Garner
"

How could she tell Kathy, that she had a message from her dead husband?

"
May 10, 2011
Deanna


It was a typical day for Deanna Sheldon. Up at 5:00 am, she ate a breakfast of cold cereal, after which she packed a lunch - a ham sandwich on deli rye, with mustard, and a lemon yogurt. After showering, she drove seven miles to work, at a factory called Auto Plate.


Her day was an endless drone of repetitive work. First, she placed small plastic pieces on a rack, the racks were then taken away by another worker, to be coated in a silvery paint, then allowed to dried. She spent the morning placing the pieces on rack after rack. She didn't mind the monotonous work, it gave her time to think about her evening job, which was anything but boring.


When lunch-time came, she grabbed her lunch, and a book, then sat down in a corner of the lunchroom, nibbling as she read. She didn't have any friends here, but she always looked around hoping to find other women in the lunchroom. Many of the men who worked here, were on work release from the jail. Their ruff language frightened her. She pretended not to hear the innuendos they aimed her way.


Lunch-time over, she hurried back to work, this time, pulling parts off the racks and packing them in crates. Before she knew it, the bell signaling the end of the work day rang.


Hurrying to her locker, she grabbed her jacket and purse, then pushed her way through the crowd and out the door to freedom. With a feeling of excitement, she climbed into her blue Ford Taurus and drove off to her evening job.


She drove for about ten minutes, then pulled onto Mill Street. Glancing at the piece of paper on the seat beside her, she read 293 Miller Street. Driving slowly she looked for 293, then, realizing she had already passed it, she turned around. She pulled into the driveway of a small 1960's ranch house - it had seen better days.


Deanna hesitated before getting out, what should she say to her? How could she tell...stopping she looked at the paper again. How could she tell Kathy, that she had a message from her dead husband? Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself, then climbed out of her car walking the few steps to the sagging front porch. She was about to knock when the door opened, a teenage boy appeared in front of her. He had piercings in his lip, eyebrow, and nose. His black hair stood on end.


“Ah...is your mother home?”


“Yah, go on in,” he said then pushed past her and down the steps.


Feeling a bit awkward she knocked instead of just walking in. She could hear children screaming in the background. No one came, so after a few minutes, she knocked again, louder this time. Finally, a dark haired woman in her forties came, her brown eyes expressing the exasperation she obviously felt.


“Whatever you are selling, I can't afford to buy, so quit wasting your time and mine,” she stated as she started to shut the door.


“Wait a minute please! Is your name Kathy Sedgewick?”


“Yes it is, does this have to do with my son? Whatever he's done, could you please cut him a little slack, his father died a couple of months ago and he just hasn't gotten over it.”


“Kathy, I have a message from Mark, he...”


“You what! Is this some kind of sick joke? Like I said, my husband has been dead for just over two months now!”


“I'm sorry Kathy, I know this sounds strange, but I...talk to the dead.”


“ Are you some kind of nut job?” she asked, glaring at Deanna.


“He says that he is sorry, he was just so depressed after loosing his job, he couldn't face you and the kids. He knows now that he made a mistake, and he wants you to know how much he loves you and the kids. He would take it all away if he could.”


“Well, just how is that suppose to help me now? Will it pay the rent? Put food on the table? Stop my son from hating himself? He thinks it's all his fault, that his father killed himself!” Kathy yelled out in anger, and frustration.


“I'm so sorry, Kathy, and so is Mark. Mark is worried about your son. He wants you to look under Sheldon's mattress, he has a gun hidden there.”


“My son is a good boy, he's just upset about his father dying. He wouldn't have a gun!”


“Please, Kathy, just look. It can't hurt to just look. The gun belongs to a friend named Tom. He has been trying to push Sheldon into robbing a corner store with him. Sheldon just wants a way to make some money, to help you and the kids out.”


Deanna waited at the door, while Kathy went to her son's room and searched under the mattress. Minutes later, she returned, white faced, and visibly shaken, a gun held in her white-knuckled hand.


“Oh my God, what am I going to do?” Placing the gun on a table, she sat down staring at it. A boy and a girl started to approach.


“Go to your rooms!” she yelled.


“But, momma...”


“I said, go to your rooms, right now!”


The look on their mother's face told them, they had better listen, so they quickly disappeared. The minute they left, Kathy broke down sobbing, “Mark how could you do this to us? Leave us all alone? Didn't you love us?”


Deanna walked over to Kathy. Rubbing her shoulders, she said, “He loved you all very much, Kathy. He made a mistake, one he can't take back. He wants you to move back to Ohio, where your mom and dad can help you out. He says not to worry about the fight you had with them. All that is long forgotten, they just want to be a part of your life again, and to know their grandchildren.”


“Mark really is talking to you, isn't he?”


“Yes, Kathy, he is. Mark loves you so very much, he just wants to make things right for his family. You will be happy and safe living with your parents, he assures me of this.”


“Tell him that I loved him...I will always love him.”


“He knows that Kathy. So you'll call your parents?”


“I'll call them right now. And when Sheldon comes home, he and I are going to have a long talk.” As Kathy reached for the phone, Deanna let herself out.


Driving home, she felt like she had accomplished something good, a smile found it's way to her face. Who would have thought, when the voices started, that they would make me feel this good about myself.


She celebrated by stopping at The BBQ Pit, for a steak dinner in the bar. The steak all but finished, she sipped on a Strawberry Margarita. A tall, dark-haired guy, with the cutest dimples, flirted with her. She was tempted to ask him for his phone number, but after glancing at her watch, she hurried to pay her bill and drove home. She needed to be home before it started.


Dianna was barely in the door before the voices started, talking over one another.

“OK, you know the routine, one at a time.”

“Deanna, could you get a message to my wife? Her name is...”












© 2012 Wendy Seames Garner


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Featured Review

This is an interesting story with a good plot twist and surprise ending. You have good characterization and paint a realistic environment. I usually avoid stories about ghosts and communicating with the dead, as a personal preference. But this is fiction. You have a good imagination and a way with words. Keep on trucking!

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Gave me the chills! I love to read this kinda stuff.

Posted 4 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Wendy Seames Garner

4 Years Ago

Charity always wanted me to finish this book. It's been too hard to concentrate since I got sick and.. read more
ooooh I loved this one, I understand exactly, how this happens, thanks Wendy for writing this :)) Moonbeam

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Wendy Seames Garner

8 Years Ago

You are welcome, Moonbeam, and thank you for reviewing! I thought you might like this one.
moonbeam40

8 Years Ago

I certainly did :))
Weak hook. Picked up momentum. It's lovely. Really. Nice twist at the end. Pacing is excellent. It was really easy to finish.

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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Pax
nice, great flow of story, enjoyed it. so keep it up

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This was very interesting to read. Someone who talks to the dead, eh? Sounds good! Keep writing!

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Brilliant finish, love it! You truly took me along start to finish, using the monotony of the day job as a pale grey background to the extraordinary
eruption of colour at the end. Somehow too, you made Deanna a very real and good woman - maybe the thoughts mentioned during the day .. she certainly didn't come over as a charlatan .. clever writing.

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Wow! You have a great story here! I love the way you have execute the end... with a Strawberry Margarita and a tall dark haired cutie!.... then, to be continued...

Fantastic work here... you are onto something good...keep it up!

Posted 8 Years Ago


This is an interesting story with a good plot twist and surprise ending. You have good characterization and paint a realistic environment. I usually avoid stories about ghosts and communicating with the dead, as a personal preference. But this is fiction. You have a good imagination and a way with words. Keep on trucking!

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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EMF
This is wonderful. A sheer delight. Such a contrast between morning and night time. A slow build of characterisation. And terriffically well wrtten. Loved every second of it. Thank you for posting this. I do hope it develops into more

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Well! Wendy this was such a pleasure to read, gripping I love the contrast between the day time job, and evening. This really is wondefully writtern, you have a gift without a doubt. I can really relate to this piece. Thank you Loved it!

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on April 17, 2012
Last Updated on June 26, 2012
Tags: copyright WSG, psychic, death, voices


Author

Wendy Seames Garner
Wendy Seames Garner

Lapeer, MI



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I believe that every person we meet, every thing we touch has a story. more..

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