“Silence Blake, are you talking to the trees or something?”
Startled, Silence turned from the wide window next to her desk. Matthew, another call-center worker for the credit card company whose cubicle was on the other side of hers, stared down at her from over the top of the gray partition wall. He chuckled and pushed his thick glasses back up his nose with a stubby index finger, even though they hadn’t slipped.
Little does he know.
“Sorry, I was on a break and guess I just got distracted there for a minute,” Silence answered, reaching for her headset. “Did you need something?”
“Yeah, I was just wondering if you’re free this weekend?” Matthew asked, watching her with unblinking eyes. “I was thinking about trying out that new Italian restaurant that just opened up down on 52nd St. Wanna come with?”
“Thanks, but I’m afraid I can’t.” She shook her head, making her long brown braid flap against her back as she tried to come up with a plausible excuse. When was he going to get the message that she wasn’t interested? The guy had been trying to get her to go out with him ever since her first day on the job three months ago. Matthew Grimwald seemed nice enough. But something about him just seemed off, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was that bothered her. She hoped she wasn’t simply being too quick to judge.
“I’m – um – having family in town.” She lied and crossed her legs, hoping that would count the same as crossing one’s fingers.
Matthew frowned and picked at one of the zits on his cheek. “I thought you said you were raised in foster care?”
“I was,” Silence said quickly, mentally kicking herself for having forgotten she’d revealed that little fact in their earlier conversations. “But – ah – I consider them like family.”
“Oh, I see,” Matthew replied. “Maybe some other time, then.” He shrugged his shoulders and smiled, which for some reason gave her the creeps.
“Maybe some other time,” she repeated politely.
His head disappeared from view and a moment later she heard him say, “Hello, my name is Matthew. Can I verify your name and date of birth?”
Glad the conversation was over, she placed the headset back on her head and adjusted the microphone as the red light on her telephone console began blinking, signifying an incoming call. She glanced out the window again before she answered it.
The large oak tree outside said, “Thanks for listening to my stories.”
***
Darkness was falling as she pushed open the door of the office tower and walked out onto the busy downtown sidewalk. A cold autumn mist hung in the hair. Wrapping her coat tightly around her, Silence joined the throng of people hurrying home after work. A gust of wind blew, sending a pile of fallen red and yellow leaves swirling into the air. She shivered, wishing she was already back home in her apartment, tucked beneath a heavy blanket on her sofa.
Suddenly, the mewling of a cat caught her attention. Looking around, she finally spotted it crouching underneath a parked car. Its yellow eyes glowed.
She knelt down next to the vehicle and stretched out her arm, but she couldn’t quite reach it.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” she said softly.
“Don’t trouble yourself, lady,” a male passer-by called. “The thing probably has rabies or something anyway. You wouldn’t want to get bit.”
She glanced up and waited until he walked by, then turned back to the little black cat. “What does he know?” she said. “Don’t pay him any attention. I want to help you.”
Suddenly, the creature leaped forward, and she scooped it up into her arms as she stood back up. It definitely looked as though it had been living on the streets for a while as it was much too thin, and its fur was matted. It snuggled against her chest and began to purr, as she quickly changed direction and turned onto 27th Ave. Hurrying up the street, she hoped she wouldn’t be too late.
A few minutes later, she pulled open the door of the animal rescue shelter, glad to find it was still open.
“Silence,” said Jennifer, the red-headed receptionist at the front desk. “It’s nice to see you, but we’re closing in ten minutes.” She noticed the tiny cat and her green eyes widened.
“Oh my, now I see what brought you in. That poor creature looks in desperate need of a seven-course meal and some rest. Let me call the veterinarian on staff.” She picked up the phone receiver. “Dr. Stout, Silence is here with a cat that needs immediate attention.”
A moment later, the veterinarian bustled through the door from the patient rooms, her gray bun askew.
“Aw, who is the sweet little thing we have here?” she asked, holding her arms out wide.
Silence passed the black cat to the kind doctor.
“Her name is Midnight,” she said. “She’s lost and hungry.”
Dr. Stout smiled. “I love how certain you are about the animals you help. It’s funny how your inclinations always seem to be correct. You certainly have a natural way with our animal friends, and we couldn’t be happier having you here as a regular volunteer.”
“Thank you,” said Silence, returning the woman’s smile as she stroked the cat’s head. It gave a wide yawn, revealing two rows of sharp white teeth. “I’ve started saving up to attend school to become a veterinary technician.”
“That’s wonderful,” the doctor replied. “Please keep us updated on your progress.”
“I will,” said Silence. She gave Midnight a final pat.
Thank you , said the cat as she turned for the door.
***
Pleased she’d been able to get Midnight to the shelter before closing time, Silence turned the collar up on her coat as she once again walked out into the brisk night air. Maybe things were finally beginning to look up for her, after all. At least she was now eighteen and able to live on her own after aging out of the system. She’d long ago lost hope of being adopted after getting shuffled constantly from one foster home to the next. It was only a matter of time before whatever family she was staying with would call the social service agency to request that she be placed elsewhere, citing her “strangeness”.
Stopping at a crosswalk, she hit the button on the post for pedestrian crossings and waited for the light to change.
As a child, she had no idea that other people didn’t talk to trees or have friends that would materialize and disappear. Animals seemed to gravitate to her, and it wasn’t unusual for them to cross streets and follow her for blocks at a time when she was out and about. But even she had to admit that her oddities seemed to be increasing now that she was getting older. For example, she was actually beginning to believe that creatures were engaging her in two-way communication. She could dismiss talking to trees when she was a little girl as a way of coping with childhood loss and loneliness. But now, the trees seemed to be speaking to her, as if they somehow knew she could understand them. The same went for animals. It was almost as if she could hear their voices, if only in her mind. Was she going crazy, or did she really have the power of telepathy?
The light changed, and the crossing signal flashed that it was safe to cross the street. Only two more blocks to go before she reached her apartment building. She stepped off the curb. Just then, a bird flying overhead called down to her. Look out .
Silence spun around just as a four-door sedan swung out from behind a corner with a squeal of tires. The driver gunned the motor and the car accelerated straight in her direction. She leaped for the sidewalk and tumbled to safety just in the nick of time. Glancing up, she caught a glimpse of the angry driver as the vehicle roared past. No, there had to be some sort of mistake. Otherwise, if what she’d seen were true, then Matthew Grimwald had just tried to kill her.
***
After a sleepless night, Silence decided to call in sick to work. There was no way she could face Matthew until she figured things out. Had her co-worker really tried to run her over the night before? Or had it been just some sort of freak accident? Had it even been Matthew at the wheel of the car?
After pulling on a pair of black leggings and an old, oversized sweatshirt, she put a pot of coffee on to brew and placed two slices of bread in the toaster oven. As she was reaching for a plate, there was a knock on the door. Who could that be? She wasn’t particularly close with any of the other residents in the building.
She went to the door and peered through the keyhole. A tall, thin man wearing a bowler hat and carrying a briefcase stood in the hallway.
Curiosity got the better of her and she opened the door. “Can I help you?”
“Greetings and good morning, Ms. Blake,” the man said, tipping his hat. “My name is Cornelius Brown. I am a solicitor. I have come to see you on a matter of urgent business. May I come in?”
Surprised, she held the door open for the prim man. What sort of important business could he possibly have for her before 8:00AM? And how did he seem to know her name? She ushered him into the living room where he promptly took a seat on the edge of the loveseat and placed his leather briefcase across his lap.
Sitting down in a chair opposite the strange lawyer, she suddenly remembered her manners. “Um, can I get you some coffee or perhaps a glass of water?”
“No, no, that will be quite all right,” he said, unlatching his case and drawing out a manila file full of papers. “I have a very busy day ahead of me – people to see and things to do, etcetera, etcetera.” He waved his hand in the air before continuing.
“Let me get straight to the point and then I will leave you to your day. I have come to see you regarding the matter of the last will and testament of your great-aunt.”
“Excuse me?” Silence asked. “I am an orphan; I have no knowledge of my biological family or ancestors.”
“I understand,” replied Mr. Brown with a curt nod. “That was according to plan.”
“What do you mean, ‘plan’?” Silence was shocked.
The attorney shuffled through the papers in the file until he found the document he wanted and put it on top of the stack. He then removed a pair of wire-rimmed glasses from his jacket pocket and put them on before quickly scanning the document’s contents.
“It is true that your parents released you to social services shortly after you were born. Unfortunately, they died not long thereafter. Your great-aunt, Patience Wingard, was in ill health herself and hence was unable to care for you on her own. She passed away on Saturday evening, at the stroke of midnight.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Silence said, not knowing what else to say since she never knew the woman.
“As her last living relative, Ms. Wingard has bequeathed you her estate in Shadow Bay.” He peered at her over the rims of his spectacles. “You are familiar with Shadow Bay, correct?”
She frowned and shook her head. “I’ve never heard of it.”
Mr. Brown sighed. “I see. It’s a very small coastal town in Maine. I will give you this paper that has the address. Ms. Wingard also left you the sum of her accounts. Here is the figure of your inheritance.”
He handed the document to Silence. Her eyes widened when she read the amount.
“Yes, it is a sizeable inheritance,” said the lawyer with a nod. He placed the manila file back into his briefcase and closed the locks with a snap.
“Congratulations, Ms. Blake. I wish you the very best. I must be going now.” Standing up, he headed for the front door and saw himself out.
Shocked, Silence leaned back in the chair and stared at the information in her hands. If it were true – and she had no reason to believe it wasn’t – the amount was more than enough for her to be able to quit her job at the call center and enrol in a veterinary assistant program. She’d just have to move to Shadow Bay first.