Chapter 17

Marielle and Tracey were quietly laying in each other’s arms when Marielle had a sudden urge to vomit. She had only just found out that she was pregnant. She hadn’t even told her boyfriend, Javier, about it. Marielle had gone to the free clinic in her neighborhood to confirm her suspicions. She was somewhat apprehensive in telling Javier as he already had four children with three other women. She knew he was a player and she knew that he didn’t want to settle down just yet. But Javier had made it clear that if she ended up pregnant, there would be no abortion. When she was with her last boyfriend she became pregnant and had an abortion then. As Marielle vomited, Tracey instinctively held Murielle’s head so she wouldn’t get any in her hair. Tracey was concerned for the woman she couldn’t see.

“Are you OK?” Tracey asked

“NO, estoy embarazada!” Marielle replied, “Pregnant.” she said again in English.

“Oh my goodness!” Tracey looked at the vague dark shape that was Marielle,
“Did you tell the Whisperer?” Tracey asked

“No” Marielle said crying.

“You need to tell him. That might help. I mean if they let you go then you can be free and go home.”

“No, yo no quiero decirle a alguien, don’t tell” Marielle had a hard time with English but she knew enough to get her point across Tracey.

“OK” Tracey said as she stroked Marielle’s hair as she lay on her lap crying.

The door opened then there were footsteps and whispers making their way down the stairs.

Just before the Whisperer turned around and continued his passage he heard Tracey scream, “SHE IS PREGNANT, LET HER GO! DID YOU HEAR ME?”

The Whisperer did not stop moving. He just turned and walked back up the stairs and then closed the door behind him. He didn’t finish the passage.

“What an unexpected variable” he thought to himself. “What to do? What to do?”

For the first time in all the years that he had planned his vengeance against bleeders, The Whisperer hadn’t prepared for the thought that one of them might actually be pregnant. He had to think. He had 12 hours to decide what he was to do. He knew he couldn’t kill her; that would make him no better than the bleeder. The Whisperer needed to consult ‘The Book’ and see what it said about this kind of situation.

After a full three hours of looking, ‘The Book’ had no useful advice. This was a circumstance that he needed to find a creative solution to. He had to think. Think carefully. There was a solution; there always was. He just needed to think. He needed to clear his head. There was only one place he could do that. The Whisperer stood up, put on his overcoat and then walked to the local Catholic Church.
He was not Catholic, but he enjoyed looking at all the adornments that the church put up to strike fear of the Almighty and His Son. His church didn’t do that. They focused on ‘The Book’ and the lessons within.

The Whisperer sat in one of the pews and watched as the few people in there counted on their rosary beads and said their prayers for absolution. This place was calming, orderly, and no one bothered you if you just sat there thinking. Now came the hard part. He needed to obtain the solution to his issue. It wasn’t a problem that one bleeder was pregnant; the issue was what to do about it. As he looked around the church he saw the gold filigree and the beautiful statues of the Virgin and her Son. He saw the stand with candles on it and he wondered why they lit them. He would have to find out somehow; it wouldn’t be today though. The ornate woodwork in the church was astounding to look at. The wood seemed to come alive and grab his attention. The detail on it was beautiful and it looked as though whoever did the carving listened to what the wood was saying and carved what it had said. There were no imperfections in the carving and as he looked he saw even more detail. He imagined the woodworker caressing the wood, asking what it wanted. The admiration he felt was a new feeling. Never before had he felt anything but apathy and disgust for those around him. Admiration for his work he had felt before, but never for another person. These feelings were interesting; he often wondered what it would be to feel love, hate, sadness or happiness. He had faked them for years. Not even his own mother knew that he faked the feelings. He could make himself cry, or laugh whatever was appropriate for the situation. When his mother passed away, he cried so his father knew that he was ‘normal’. After his mothers’ death was when he discovered his true self. He had watched his father date and bed woman after woman and never got attached to any one of them. He heard his father’s words in his head as he sat there.

“Not one of these women is worth anything; your mother was a little better because she bore you and your brothers. The fruit of my loins. You had a sister, but a sister was not what I wanted for you. I made your mother abandon the little bitch after she was born and then I produced you and your brothers. Never forget women are nothing more than breeding tools.” Those words are what he heard every day in his head. As he sat in the church thinking about what his father often told him he looked around and watched the candles flicker. It was just too bad that it was for this so called religious purpose and not for his one true religion.

He sat there for the better part of two hours; thinking and looking around when all of a sudden it came to him. “No one notices another person in this church.” he thought to himself. How simple the solution was. The Whisperer stood up and smiled. He had the answer! He walked out of the church as silently as he had come in. But this time he had a purpose and he was content in knowing that he had taken care of the issue at hand. He would not be killing the bleeder that was pregnant.

Tracey was holding Marielle when she heard the door open. The Whisperer walked down the stairs without saying a word. He grabbed Marielle, tossed her over his shoulder and walked back up the stairs. When Marielle woke up she was strapped into a chair and couldn’t move. She was terrified but controlled her tears because fear was foremost in her mind. The Whisperer came back and noticed that Marielle was awake. He whispered in her ear….”You my dear have a special and precious gift growing inside you. This gift is the reason you will be free when you wake up.”

All Marielle felt after that was a sharp pain against her head. When she woke up she could smell incense and candle wax. She felt her head where the pain was and cringed as she touched it. She looked around and realized she was in a church. A Catholic church. As she looked around she looked down at her body. She still had the jogging suit on that she was wearing in that place where she couldn’t see a thing. She looked up again and saw statues of the Virgin Mary and Jesus. She got up and slowly walked over to the statue of Jesus. She knelt in front of it and kissed the feet of the Holy Son. While holding his sacred feet she whispered in Spanish…“Jesus, its array of miracles, the true manifestation of his divinity, drew the admiration of souls who are seeking. Never say "miracles do not exist! You are the living example of such actions. Bless me with the faith to believe always, to assert the power whether physical or spiritual nature. Grant me the ability instantly perceive the source of all supernatural occurrences, only its excellence will be glorified. Jesus, my life is a miracle”

Marielle crossed herself and then began her prayer again. While she was still kneeling, when a priest quietly walked up and stood by until Marielle finished saying her prayer and crossed herself again. When she was finished, the priest gently touched Marielle on the shoulder. Marielle jumped and looked up.

“Pardon me young lady, can I help you?” The priest asked in Spanish to help put the young lady at ease.

“Si” Marielle answered.

“What can I do?”

“Please call the police. I was held captive against my will and I woke up here. I’m praying because it’s a miracle I am still alive!”

The priest immediately went to the office and did as Marielle asked. Marielle stayed in the sanctuary and continued to pray while she waited for the Police.

“Why?” Darrell spoke out loud wondering about the malicious plan that this person who was killing these girls had, and why was he leaving a few of them alive. He and Gayle got out of his car that was now parked in front of the church and walked toward the large wooden doors.

Gayle looked at Darrell and just nodded as if reading his mind.

“I know. It doesn’t make sense, does it?” Gayle asked as they walked into the church.

“I just don’t see what the connection is.” Darrell shook his head as he spoke to Gayle.

“OK where is she?” Gayle and Darrell asked the patrolman at the door. The patrolman pointed to the statue of Jesus. When Darrell looked at the statue, he didn’t see Marielle at first. He looked at the top of the statue and followed the lines of the robe of Jesus. When he got to the sandaled feet he saw Marielle. Holding and kissing the feet all the while mumbling something in Spanish under her breath.

Gayle and Darrell approached the woman and waited until it seemed she had finished what she was saying. Then he gently touched her on the shoulder and waited for her response.

At first there was nothing. Not a jump, not even the slightest hint that she had felt his touch. Then after a few seconds, she got up crossed herself and sat on the first pew next to the statue. She looked calm and collected, looking as though she was waiting for the flood gates to open. When they did open she would spill over telling her story over and over and over.

“Marielle Sanchez?” Darrell asked looking at the woman.

“Si, yes. I am Marielle.” The woman said calmly and quietly.

“I am Detective Darker, this is Detective Adams. May we speak with you?”

“Si, yes.” Marielle was waiting, waiting for the questions to begin. She spoke only in broken English so she would have to depend on the Priest to translate for her.

“I needing Priest” Marielle said. Darrell asked one of the patrolmen standing around to go find the priest.

When the priest arrived and sat beside Marielle, she nervously took his hand and immediately started speaking.

“"Me sentí traído aquí, pero no sé cómo, ya estaba oscuro y antes de que me enteré que no podía ver nada. Hubo otra muchacha Tracey, Tracey algo. Ella me ayudó, ella me sacudió, sabía que yo voy a tener un bebé. Ella gritó en la persona que nos recogía que estaba embarazada. Al principio existía sólo susurrando pero luego dejó de hacerlo cuando la persona que estaba embarazada. No veo la otra niña aquí, ¿sabes dónde está?”

Darrell put up both his hands and said in a quiet tone, “Shhhhhhhhh.” Marielle took a deep breath and waited looking at the priest.

The priest nodded at Marielle and looked at Darrell, “She says that she was brought here but she doesn’t know how. There was another girl there Tracey, Tracey something. Tracey helped her. Tracey rocked her and Tracey knew that she was pregnant. At first there was only whispering but then it stopped when the person heard that she was pregnant. She does not see the other girl here; do you know where Tracey is?”

Darrell shook his head no.

“You need to see a doctor. We are going to send you to St. Michaels’ around the corner from here.”

“No quiero ver a un médico, no tengo seguro médico, me va a estar bien.”I don't want to see a doctor. I have no insurance and I will be fine.) Marielle looked panicked. The priest took her hand and squeezed.

“The church will cover the cost Marielle, please go with the Detective and get checked out for the sake of the baby. Please!” The priest begged Marielle in Spanish.

“Gracias Padre”

Marielle stood and looked at Darrell, he reached to shake her hand and she rushed and cradled inside his arm, just like little children do when they are scared or hurt. Marielle looked up at the large man who seemed to be her protector now. Darrell gave Gayle a look of surprise and alarm. Darrell pushed the woman out of his arms and with one hand lead her toward the ambulance that was outside the church doors. When Darrell and Marielle appeared at the door of the church, spectators became hushed and wondered in awed silence about what had occurred. News vans had yet to arrive and that was a blessing. The last thing either Darrell or Gayle needed was a cameo on the six o’clock news report.