Squirrelly Funerals and Nutty Neighbors: Part II

Morgan arrived home around six o'clock. Amy was busy fixing dinner when the little girl bounded in, chattering on about her day.

Amy listened as best she could while keeping an eye on the food cooking on the stove. Eric breezed through the kitchen on his way to pick up his date. He lifted Morgan above his head, swung her back down towards him, and kissed her forehead. Morgan continued talking throughout her brother's good- bye.

Eric hugged his mother, turning her back to the stove. Still holding onto her, he stuck his finger into the bowl of mash potatoes that she had been preparing.

"Oh, Eric!" Amy cried, swatting his hand away. "Get out of here." She gave him a loving smack with a potholder.

Eric took off out of the back door with mashed potato smeared on his nose.

"Mommy," Morgan said suddenly, forgetting the rest of her story. "How long before dinner?"

"Oh, about half an hour. Why?"

"Can I go outside and play?"

Amy regarded her daughter. "All right, but stay out of Mr. Feeny's yard."

"Kay," she said running for the door.

Outside, Morgan saw Cory's football. She seized the opportunity to play with it as her brother had forbidden her to touch it. With the ball tucked under one arm, Morgan pulled herself up the ladder to the tree house.

She settled herself inside and found a doll that she had been missing buried under a blanket. The football was almost immediately forgotten. Before long, she heard a faint sound at the entrance to the house.

"Cory?" she called thinking her brother might be home, even though he had told her that he wouldn't be back until after dark.

There was no response to her call, only more faint scratching sounds. Morgan shrugged and continued playing with her doll. Before long, she forgot all about the odd noises. She had just put her doll to bed when a little squirrel dropped in for a visit. It was a young squirrel with a narrow reddish tail. It stood unmoving in the doorway. Morgan stared at him, hardly daring to breathe lest he be scared away. The creature's immense black eyes gazed about in a slow manner, not very squirrel-like at all. Finally, it lifted a paw and promptly fell over.

It was Nurse Morgan to the rescue. A vague warning about not going near or touching injured animals came back to her. She ignored it, however- this squirrel needed her. Dumping her doll out of its bed, Morgan wrapped it around the animal and carefully picked it up. The creature did not move. Morgan gently molded the covering into a sort of bed. When she was satisfied with it, she decided to examine her patient.

With her hand sheathed in a corner of the blanket, she stroked the squirrel's head lightly. It didn't respond to her touch in the slightest. After several minutes of trying to awaken it, a dark realization struck Morgan. Understanding that the animal was not sleeping, she let out an eardrum-shattering scream before bursting into heart-broken sobs.

It was nearly ten 'o'clock that night when Cory was dropped off at his house. At first, Jon thought he might have to get Alan to help him carry the boys inside as Audrey had difficulty rousing them from their slumber.

Only half-awake, Cory and Shawn, who was spending the night, stumbled sleepily into the house. Amy and Alan were both up to greet them. They spoke briefly to Jon and Audrey. Cory and Shawn fell asleep on their feet.

The ride over to Audrey's place was quite. Jon realized with surprise that this was the first time they had been alone outside of a school setting. Never before had he had trouble talking to her, but now he didn't know what to say.

Audrey was just as silent, lost in her daydreams. The quiet humming of the vehicle was making her drowsy. Her thoughts drifted past the excitement of the day and onto Jonathan.

He seemed lost in his own thoughts. Audrey wondered what they were. Her subconscious wanted to know if his thoughts ever had anything to do with her, but her waking mind kept such fancies stifled with logical reasons for the musings to be irrational. Still the curiosity was there.

"You all right?"

Audrey looked at Jon, startled. She didn't realize that she had sighed aloud.

"Just a little tired, I guess," she said.

There was silence for the rest of the trip. With a twinge of regret, Jon pulled up to the curb in front of the little white house. Except for a small light in an upstairs window, the house was completely dark. They sat there, neither knowing quite how to end the evening. Awkward silence grew in the cab of the pickup.

"Hey, Aud-"

"I just wanna say-"

They both started to speak and were immediately quiet when they heard the other. The silence returned. Then Jon laughed.

Audrey relaxed and released her grip on the door handle. She smiled.

"I had a great time today," Audrey said quietly.

"Yeah?" Jon turned to look at her. Her face was shrouded in shadows, obscuring her expression. He was struck suddenly by how beautiful she looked in any light. "Good. I did, too."

There was more silence.

Audrey fidgeted with the seat belt. She knew what she wanted to say, but was too afraid.

Jon was in the same situation, though unlike Audrey, he had Feeny's voice ringing in his ears.

Audrey took a deep breath. Her mind was ready to say goodnight and get out of the truck. Her body prepared for the action, but her subconscious beat them both.

"Would you, maybe, want to come in for a while?"

In the dark, Jon couldn't see how wide Audrey's eyes got when she heard what had just flown out of her mouth. She swore her heart stopped beating for a few seconds.

Jon, for his part, was unsure if he had heard her properly, mainly because it seemed as though the voice of George Feeny was screaming at him not to accept. He could just imagine what the principal would do if her found out about this. The man had an uncanny ability to know everything. Thank God, he didn't know about today.

He waited for a few moments to see if she would retract the invitation, but she didn't.

He let out a breath.

Amy quietly slipped into Morgan's bedroom to tuck her in. Alan was already there, sitting on the edge of her bed and rubbing her back.

"Has she been asleep long?" Amy whispered.

Alan glanced up at her with a tired smiled. "No, she just drifted off a little while ago."

"Poor baby," she cooed, putting her arms around Alan's shoulders.

After the trauma of witnessing the baby squirrel, BoBo she named it, die Morgan had been so distraught that she cried for literally hours mourning the animal's death. Even the funeral Amy and Alan helped her prepare for BoBo did not ease her grief any. Morgan had carefully crafted a headstone with a piece of scrap wood her father had given her and permanent markers from her mother.

Amy could still see the path that Morgan's tears had stained on her fair cheeks in the dim glow of the nightlight. She sighed softly.

When Alan thought that Morgan was asleep enough not to wake up easily, he stood up. His daughter stirred, but did not open her eyes.

With their arms around each other's waists, Amy and Alan left the room. They made it to the doorway when they heard a small voice cry out.

"Daddy! Daddy, don't leave me. I don't want BoBo to be alone."

His daughter's distress, even her sleep, tugged at his heart and the desire to protect her from any and all hurt was overwhelming. Alan returned to her side and gently scooped her up in his arms. He carried her over to Amy.

"Looks like we're going to have a guest in our room tonight," he told his wife.

Amy kissed Morgan's hair and stroked her cheek.

"That's quite all right."

Audrey's place was, for the most part, a wide-open area with no distinct boundaries between the kitchen, dining room, and living room. A butter cream shag carpet blanketed the floors of the upper living quarters, except for the kitchen that was a pine wood floor.

The living area was sparsely furnished. A large white sofa took up most of the area along the north wall. A matching recliner faced it on the opposite side of the room. At the end of the sofa, on the east wall was an entertainment center complete with a large screen TV, VCR, and stereo system. The cabinets of the center held various videotapes and CD's. In the center of the space sat a low-lying coffee table with a glass top. Several dance magazines were stacked neatly at one end.

The area that could have been used as a dining room was little more than open space. Across the expanse of carpet, old-fashioned French doors open onto a tiny balcony overlooking the backyard

The kitchen was off-set from the rest of the house by a piece of furniture that was once used as a bar. The bar had shutters above its counter that closed and latched. When opened, the living room could be seen from the kitchen. The bar, like all of the cabinetry, was finished in pine.

Beyond the kitchen was a short, narrow hallway leading to a small bathroom, a small master bedroom, and an even smaller bedroom that was currently being utilized as storage.

The interior design that gave the place a distinct cosmopolitan flavor was on display through out the whole house. Jon found the décor to be the most interesting thing about the house, other than the occupant herself.

On the north wall were framed posters for various Broadway and London shows ranging from Phantom of the Opera and Les Miserable to CATS and Godspell. Many of the posters were vintage originals. The entertainment center was home to other theatre memorabilia including an extensive collection of Phantom of the Opera music boxes depicting various scenes from the musical.

The south wall near the French doors was a shrine to ballet. At the heart of the collection were several large Degas prints. There were also many framed pictures of ballet dancers all of which were signed with personal notes to Audrey. It was obvious that they knew her well.

In a shadow box near the doors, was a pair of toe shoes. The sole of one of them was turned out so that it could be seen. George Balanchine had signed it in permanent marker.

Further down the wall was a small upright piano. On the wall above the instrument were more photos. These were all of the same dancer and all professionally done. It took Jon several seconds to realize that they were pictures of Audrey during the heyday of her dance career. Another set of pictures, these setting of the top of the piano, caught Jon's attention. They were of another redhead, an older, but stunningly beautiful woman. He picked up one portrait of the woman. She had a brilliant smile that lit up her entire face. It was infectious- Jon couldn't help but smile back at her. Her nose might have been considered large on another face, but on hers it somehow served to enhance her beauty. Her blue eyes were clear and shining; they radiated warmth and energy- a vibrant love for life. Her fiery red mane was cut short and covered her ears. Her bangs were cut straight across her forehead just above her perfectly arched eyebrows.

After tearing his focus away from her face, Jon observed the rest of the photo. In the woman's arms was a little girl, no more than five, beaming at her in sheer adoration. The little girl looked so much like the woman that the woman could have been holding herself as a child.

"That's my mum."

Audrey had walked up behind Jon and was looking over his shoulder.

"She's beautiful," he murmured, setting the picture back down. "That you with her?"

"Mmhmm."

"You look just like her."

Audrey didn't say anything, but Jon could tell from the look on her face that she was pleased that he thought so. But there was sadness intertwined in the delight. Her eyes clouded up. Jon knew that her mother's death had been a blow that Audrey had never quite recovered from. Once she had told him, that she still cried herself to sleep at least once a week because she missed her mother so. Then her eyes would light up as she told him about what her "mum" was like. He had heard so much about Elizabeth "Lizzy" Wells- Andrews that he felt he had known her, too. It even saddened him to think that she would never smile that dazzling grin again.

It was those times when Audrey spoke of her mother that made him want to call his own mother, who was still very much alive, knowing that he should be grateful to still have her around. He had done so for the first time nearly three months ago. His mother had seemed surprised to hear from him and even more surprised that he had called only to say "I love you".

"Audrey," he said as he followed her over to the couch. "You always talk about your mom, but what about your dad? Is he-" Jon paused trying to think of the most tactful way of phrasing it, "still living?"

A pained expression crossed Audrey's face as she sat down, tucking one foot underneath her.

"I suppose you call it living," she sighed.

Jon settled down close to her, concerned. The look on her face and the sound of her voice did not sound optimistic.

"I don't know where to start," Audrey admitted, leaning her head back and staring at the ceiling.

"How about at the beginning?"

"The beginning?" Audrey looked at him intently. "I suppose the beginning, or maybe it was the ending, was after Mum died." She shifted into a more comfortable position. "Dad didn't cope well with Mum dying. He just...I don't know... fell apart. We had been really close before Mum got sick. I was Daddy's little princess, ya know? But after, he wouldn't have anything to do with me. He wasn't interested in anything, not me not living." Her face darkened under the oppression of painful memories. "He ended up in the hospital after passing out at work from not eating. He was so depressed that a psychiatrist was brought in to see him. The doctor diagnosed him as being bipolar and he was put on medication. The meds didn't do anything but make him physically ill and gave him severe mood swings." Audrey laughed derisively. "Turns out he wasn't bipolar at all, just mourning his wife. I think it took about a year for a new doctor to be assigned to him and another eighteen months for the doctor's petition to the courts to let him be taken off the meds to go through."

Jon shook his head in disbelief. He wasn't prepared to hear something like this.

Audrey took a deep breath and continued. "After a year being off the medication, he got better, but he was never the same. He was still distant around me, but at least he was working again. He was only a whisper of the person he had once been. About a two years ago, he started being more affectionate and finally starting talking about Mum again. About a year ago, he got sick suddenly one night with a raging fever. He was in the hospital for weeks, then months, but the doctor's couldn't diagnose it. They thought it might be an immune system disorder, but they didn't have any clue what it was. Dad went through test after test and got sicker and sicker." Audrey paused, her breath caught in her throat. "Six months ago, Dad moved to the United Hospice of Rockland."

Jon sucked in his breath and a wave a sympathy washed over him. The hospice was for the terminally ill.

"The doctors don't know how long he'll live." She sighed and slumped against the couch as though it was physically exhausting for her to speak. "Could be years, could be minutes. I hate being away from him with a prognosis like that, but Dad wanted to see me become a teacher like Mum. So here I am, student-teaching for him."

The only thing Jon could think to do was reach out to her. She gripped his hand as though her life depended on it. He pulled her over to him. She rested her head against his shoulder, staring at something he could not see. In time, Audrey turned her head and buried her face against his chest, little more than a child who ached for her parents.

It was in the wee hours of the morning that Jon arrived home, more than ready to go to sleep. The apartment was oddly quiet without Shawn- and depressingly empty. He yawned as he tossed his jacket onto the couch, vowing to hang it up later on.

After he had changed for bed, Jon found himself wandering around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets for no real reason. Audrey was on his mind. Once she had regained her composure, she had spoken more freely about her ballet career, though she still avoided talking about her departure from Julliard. She was skillful at skirting the subject and outmaneuvering direct questions about it. But they had spent most of their time talking about home. It was amazing to discover that they had spent so much time in the same places, in the neighborhoods at the same time and yet never met. Their common interests expanded beyond the United States and into Europe. As it turned out, they had been in Rome at approximately the same time. Even freakier was that they had attended the same performance of Miss Saigon in London.

Absent-mindedly, Jon put a kettle of water onto boil though he had no intention of drinking any tea. No matter how hard he tried his thoughts kept drifting back to Audrey. There was no denying, as much as he would have like to, that he savored the time they had spent alone. Though they only talked, that in itself was oddly satisfying. He wished they had more opportunities like, though maybe not so late at night.

As he watched the steam rising from the kettle's silver spout, he toyed with the idea of asking Audrey out, though he knew that simply wasn't possible. As much as he hated to admit it, George was right about the age difference. Though it currently seemed to be a non-issue, what would happen if they got married? Twelve years was quite a gap. Audrey would wake up one day to find herself tied down to an old man while she was still young. He couldn't do that to her. He sighed sadly. Audrey would only be a dream girl to him. She would be someone else's real girl.

Pushing the unpleasant thoughts to the back of his mind, Jon walked over to the answering machine to check his messages. There were three.

The first one was from Shawn, left much earlier in the day. Jon skipped it, not bothering to find out why Shawn had called himself from the theme park. The second was from Katherine and he was tempted to skip that one as well.

"Hi, Jonny. Look I know we were going to let things cool off for awhile...but." There was a tremble in her voice. "I just wanted to apologize for the other day...you know...I didn't mean any of those things I said. I'm really sorry.. Well, uh, see you Monday."

The message terminated with a beep. Last Saturday, he and Katherine had been out at the mall. They had already gotten into one of their regular disputes about marriage before leaving that day. He had been on edge since then and the final straw came when Katherine wanted to stop at a jewelry store and look at engagement rings; a not so subtle hint, once more pressing marriage on him. That's when he told her that he needed some space. Realizing, that she had pushed too hard, Katherine agreed to back off. They hadn't spoke, except for formalities at school, in a week.

Maybe I'll give her a call tomorrow, Jon thought as the machine played the third message.

"Jonathan, this George Feeny. I need to speak you as soon as possible. I've been made aware of a situation that needs immediate attention. Tomorrow. I'm expecting your call."

Jon swallowed, but found his mouth had gone dry. He had the cold, sinking sensation that George knew all about his time with Audrey.

Since there was nothing that he could about Feeny's message at the moment, he poured the water out of the kettle and turned off the light, before heading to bed.

He lay in bed trying to sleep, but to no avail. Something was troubling him. Something that he had temporarily forgotten. While he was helping Audrey put away some dishes they had used in the kitchen, he had caught a glimpse of some papers on her refrigerator. One paper was a small white square of professional letterhead. Scribbled down in a hasty fashion was an appointment time for Audrey with a Dr. Charlotte Amsden. Taped to this was a business card for Dr. Amsden- a psychoanalyst. The message below the card read:

Audrey,

Don't you dare skip another session. I don't care what you're doing, drop it. Or else I'll have the state commit you.

-Dr. Amsden

P.S. I'm kidding about having you committed. For now.

Dawn broke over the horizon. Narrow shafts of light tried to find their way in through the shuttered blinds and into the black room of a tormented soul. Inner demons battled each other, fighting for control over her mind and body; some battled to suppress her spirit and choke it out. The cycle that had once been broken began again. She fled the room for the sanctity of another; one which seemed to quell the war for a time. After giving those holding her spirit captive what they wanted, she leaned her head against the cool, white porcelain lid of the toilet.

Somewhere a music box played.

"Masquerade, shadows breathing lies...Masquerade! You can fool any friend who ever knew you..."