He Watches

 Can their love survive Halloween's heartbreak?

He crouched in the shadows, a creature of the night—a purveyor of passion and a despoiler of dreams. He was young—or young for what he was—ancient in human terms. After a century of watching over three mortal generations, he was well acquainted with waiting ...but he finally found her. She was born, became a woman, and his time was at hand. Their time! His tongue slid over darkened lips. A dribble of saliva, stained red from his evening meal, framed his smile. As patient as any alpha predator, he watched and waited.

***

Evelyn Barrow sighed as she gazed at the old, framed image in her lap. It was an old black-and-white photo, faded by time and handling. Her father passed it down to her through his father, who first received it from his mother—Eve’s great-grandmother, one of the figures in the picture. Alexandra Perkins had been the only female in her family line for generations—until Evelyn was born.

Her father said the picture was from the World War II era. The man in the picture, dressed in an old-style Army uniform, lent credence to his story. Evelyn’s research identified the outfit as a paratrooper’s garb. Her family’s oral tradition said the man was killed in action in the liberation of the Dachau prison camp. After surviving the horrors of the war, he was killed when his parachute failed to open.

The photo’s edges were dogeared, and several creases marred its surface. The blurred focus was the product of an amateur photographer, but somehow, the feelings of the two people were evident. They were in love.

A bent-backed elderly lady in a red plaid apron entered the sitting room with a feather duster in her hand.

“Do you need for anything, Miss Perkins…I mean, Mrs. Barrow?” she asked.

“Iris, after all the years you’ve been with our family, couldn’t you please call me Evelyn or Eve?”

“Yes. Misses…umm, I mean—Evelyn.”

“Please, put that down and sit with me for a moment.”

Iris sat on the sofa beside her, keeping a respectful distance.

“What do you know about this picture, Iris? And the man in it with my great-grandmother?”

“Surely, you’ve heard the stories, child? I was told he was in love with your great-grandmother and died in the war.”

“Were they? In love, I mean? What do you remember?”

“How old do you think I am, Miss?”

“I meant no offense, Iris. They look so happy...” Evelyn dropped her face into her hands and sobbed. Iris put an arm around her, stiffly at first, then tenderly—as if she were her child.

“There, there, Evelyn. Don’t carry on so. Married life takes some adjustment. You love Mister Barrow, and he loves you. Love conquers all, as my mother used to say.”

“I’m not so sure.” Evelyn sniffed and turned her head onto the older woman’s shoulder, wetting her dress with tears.

“I’ll tell you a secret about that picture if it will cheer you up, child, but first, you must dry your tears.”

Nodding her head, Evelyn swabbed at her eyes with the tissue Itris held. “I’m sorry, Iris. I am acting like a child. Forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Evelyn.” Iris stood and picked up her feather duster.

“Wait, Iris. I still want to hear that story you promised,” she patted the cushion beside her.

 “Are you sure?” Iris asked, and Evelyn nodded. “Do you believe in ghosts, Evelyn?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen one, but Daddy swore he did once. He was convinced it was the spirit of his grandfather.”

“Well, your father didn’t know this story. His father kept it from him. He was a grand old southern gentleman, your grandfather, but he didn’t truck in ghosts and things that go bump in the night. He said there were enough worrisome things in this life without borrowing trouble.”

“I don’t remember my grandfather very well, but that sounds right.”

“I believe the man who died at Dachau concerned him, though. He said such great evil festers, spreads, and draws in even darker things, wicked things born of ancient evil. Evelyn, that man—the one in the picture? Your grandfather said his mother saw that man several times—years after he died, mind you. He said she thought good things happened to her and your family whenever she saw him.  She called him her guardian angel because she’d see him, especially when times were hard, and they’d get better.”

“What kinds of things?”

Continue reading the story in the anthology:

https://books2read.com/u/mq5qNO