The sound of soothing music penetrated time and space, interrupting a peaceful slumber. The melody beckoned her to come closer, drawn into another world, another dimension. Obeying the Piped Piper, she followed the sound into the dense mist that made it difficult to see. The encompassing fog obscured all vision and her fear hung on the distinct possibility of running into something unyielding or worse falling into a deep chasm. Until suddenly realizing that wouldn’t be feasible as her feet weren’t touching the ground. They floated inches above on the white haze that encircled her legs.
She felt like an angel commingling with the clouds. Then suddenly the mist began to disperse in various directions from a surge of wind, and she found herself standing at the edge of a wooden dance floor in the middle of a grand ballroom. Graceful couples from a time long ago came spinning past. They smiled as they danced by in a blur of motion. Overhead, crystal chandeliers twinkled as they reflected prisms of light in subdued splendor down on the dancers below. The women wore beautiful ball gowns of colorful silk, satin, and brocade that layered toward the back and gathered into bustles that fell into sweeping trains to the floor.
They kept the fine fabric from dragging as they danced by holding them in one delicate hand. The men attired in white linen shirts and tailored black waistcoats and tails looked stately and debonair. The couples continued to glide around and around the dance floor rising and falling in rhythm with the symphonic music of the orchestra who sat in the shadows hidden from view. They were faceless blobs having no distinct shape or definition. From the farthest recesses of her mind, the melody was familiar.
The count of one, two, three, one, two, hree, was recognizable from elementary school when her strict teacher taught her students socialized dancing. It was a waltz. Glancing around, it was odd that there were no other sounds other than the music being performed by the shrouded players of the instruments. There was no laughter, talking, tinkling of glass or china, or the shuffling noise of people moving over the wooden floors. She wondered if she had accidentally ventured onto the sound stage of an old silent motion picture, and she waited to hear the director yell, “Cut. ” Nervous, she could feel her palms beginning to sweat.
Clenching and unclenching her hands there was the feeling of soft, smooth material beneath her fingers. For the first time, she became aware of her attire. She was no longer wearing the cotton nightshirt she had put on before going to bed, but instead wore a beautiful ball gown of cream and green satin. It clung to every curve accentuating her full bust and small waist. Looking down at the floor, she could see her feet encased in cream satin slippers that felt soft and pliable with each step. From her peripheral vision, she could see her hair hanging over her right shoulder in long ringlets to her breast.
A few stray curls caressed her face. Feeling confident and beautiful, she stood motionless biting her lip in anticipation, waiting—but waiting for what she wasn’t sure. Across the room, she could see a group of men. It was obvious they were in a heated conversation as evidenced by the exaggerated hand movements. The tallest one had his back to her. His outline seemed strangely familiar. As if he could feel her gaze, he turned his head seeking her out of the crowd. As his eyes caught hers, he winked. Now she knew why she waited. Nodding to his gentlemen friends, he began to saunter across the dance floor heading straight for her.
He wove in and out of the elegant dancers dodging elbows and legs until he stood in front of her. Even with the bulging muscles apparent under his formal evening wear, he looked very regal and dignified and at the same time extremely handsome. By the glint in his eyes, she could see how pleased he was with her appearance. He flashed a lopsided grin before dipping down in a sweeping bow. Reaching his arm around her waist, he pulled her into his arms drawing them both onto the dance floor. She tried reaching into the depths of her memory for the steps to the waltz. As they began to dance, she realized it wasn’t necessary.
They moved together in fluid motion across the ballroom. Their steps were in sync with each other and the other couples as they circled the room. It had her curiosity aroused as she had never mastered the dance during her long ago class. There was the feeling of lightness in her heart that at one time she believed she would never feel again. Knowing it wasn’t Ray who held her, she felt a stab of guilt for enjoying this night being in the arms of another man. Hesitant, reluctant to lift her eyes until he put a finger under her chin and raised it to stare into his face. This motion verified her suspicion.
The man whose arms she felt wrapped around her waist, the man who instilled such passion was the man of her dreams. The same thick auburn hair, lopsided grin, and striking blue eyes—Sean O’Malley. Why was she still having dreams of Sean? She thought once she had moved home, to Glendara, they would vanish as her nightmares had. Instead, thoughts of him were becoming an obsession. She should try to wake up, but she didn’t want to. She was having too much fun, and it had been so long since she had enjoyed herself. The last time was before Kelly died. Somewhere between the dream and waking state she wondered.
It’s only a dream. It isn’t real. Why shouldn’t I enjoy myself? It won’t hurt anyone to pretend for a little while, will it? As if in answer to her unspoken query, the dancers started to fade into the background as the swirling mist once again rose up from the floor spanning the surrounding area. It began to get thicker until it blocked out everything except Sean. In a state of bewilderment, she looked to him for clarification. His silent response brought a devastating trepidation. His eyes lost their twinkle as they moistened with unshed tears of regret. A frown of resolution replaced his smile.
With one hand, he reached up to rub his knuckles tenderly down the side of her face. Love was evident in his endearing look. Before being pulled away into the darkness of the mist, he bent down to plant a brief kiss upon her brow. She latched on to his arm to detain his departure. In a pleading voice, she called out, “Please, don’t go. Stay with me. ” She had said those exact words only once before—to Kelly. It was too late then, and it was too late now. He was gone. The dancers were gone. The orchestra was gone. Everything was gone. All that remained was the muted sound of the waltz playing faintly in the background.
Struggling to stay in the dream, unwilling to open her eyes, and when she did, it was to a well-lit room. She had left the bedside lamp on before falling asleep as a deterrent to anything unwanted invading her dreams or her room. She told herself that ghosts didn’t exist and made up from people’s fear of the unknown, but deep down she wasn’t certain they weren’t real. Keeping the lights on seemed childish and silly, but it had a way of making her feel safe-protected. Wanting to go back to sleep and escape into her lucid dream world, she closed her eyes. It was futile trying to recapture the moment.
It had faded as quickly as it came. In spite of being fully awake, there was the murmur of music playing in the distance. She jerked upright to look around the room. Sitting up in bed, she listened. There was the soft humming of the ceiling fan. It wasn’t nearly as loud as the thudding of her heart. Then there was the faint sounds of a waltz playing somewhere in the house. She couldn’t remember leaving the radio or television on downstairs before going to bed. I didn’t have time today to do anything other than work, dealing with the plumber, and reading more of the journal.
Of course, the only way to know, for sure, would be to get up and track down the source. Calling for Swayze, she felt like she was in a Scooby Doo movie, “Come on boy. We have a mystery to solve, and I don’t want to do it alone. ” Swayze stretched and yawned before climbing out of bed to follow his mistress on this new pursuit. Not sure why, she tiptoed to the stairs. After taking only four or five steps down, the sound got fainter. “Well Swayze, it’s not coming from downstairs, so it’s not the television or the radio.
Where is it going from? She headed back upstairs to walk down the hallway and check every room on the second floor listening intently if the music got louder or softer. Every corner held shadows. Flipping the hall light on to brighten the darkness, she took a few steps, and then with ears straining, stopped to listen. Going room by room, she would yank the doors open and turn on the lights to inspect each one. Everything looked normal. Nothing was out of place. Then there was a loud crash that had her ready to dash in the opposite direction. It came from the guest room on the left, the one closest to the attic.
She approached the room, almost creeping to peek around the door frame. Reaching her hand around the door for the light switch, she could see in the dim light from the hall, a billowy white mass floating inches above the floor. It hovered in the middle of the room. As if sensing her presence, it turned and headed in her direction. Alarm bells went off in her head, and she didn’t even attempt to switch on the light. Her instincts had one thing to say, Run! Before she had time to do so, there came a soft whimper from the flimsy wraith. “Swayze? “
