Chapter 33

A screeching alarm woke Gayle out of a dead sleep. Six am already, she felt as though she had just laid down for the night. In reality she had been in bed for just over three hours but sleep had been elusive these past few nights. Between the job and her Godly calling she was burning out rather quickly. She had to find a way to do both and not feel exhausted. Last night when she and Darrell went back to the dump site, she was so lost in her thoughts that she was sure Darrell suspected she might be involved. She had to find out. Gayle grabbed her cell phone off the night stand and dialed Darrell’s number.

“Hey, ya, I’m coming in a little later, around 10, not feeling the best so I’m gonna catch a nap.” Gayle waited for the acknowledgement from Darrell and then hung up the phone, placed it back on the stand, and turned over. She immediately rolled back over, reset her alarm for 9am and then rolled back again, closed her eyes and within minutes she was sound asleep.

The Whisperer pulled up in front of Gayle’s house and watched for fifteen minutes. Nothing moved, no one passed by and the street was eerily quiet.

“This is the perfect spot” the Whisperer thought to himself. “No one around, no one to come around asking why I am parked here. Absolutely marvelous.” The Whisperer put the van back into drive and drove off. He was going to take his wife to the Botanical gardens, and nothing was going to spoil their day.

After he got his wife and her chair all buckled in, he kissed her sweetly and then walked around to the driver’s door and put the van in gear. As they were driving it occurred to him that perhaps he wouldn’t have to kill his protégé. Maybe he could just set her up to take the fall. His mind never stopped trying to figure out all the answers and steps to every single task. That is why he, or rather his brothers and he, had never had an issue. All three of the boys were very meticulous about procedure. You either followed it or you were chastised or at worst terminated. He thought about the word ‘terminated’. He liked it. It was a final word; there was no miscommunication with that word. Nothing to debate about. Terminated was just that. Final, over, end, fired, abolished, discontinued, dismissed, dead. The Whisperer liked words that were conclusive. No double meanings. Say what you mean and mean what you say. That was all he wanted. Vivian understood this. She had lived with the three of them for 22 years. And the thought that she never questioned him why they did this somewhat confounded him. He would have to ask her.

The two pulled into the gardens parking lot and found a disabled parking spot. The sun was shining but being as it was early May it was a perfect spring day. Not too hot and not too cool. He unloaded the wheelchair from the back of the van and then opened it up and brought it around to the passenger side of the van. His wife opened the door, reached out her hand and then carefully stepped out of the van and sat in the wheelchair. She felt the sun on her face and she looked up with her eyes closed so she could enjoy the feeling of the warm rays flooding her face. As the pair moved closer to the gated entrance of the Botanical Garden, Vivian reached her hand up and touched her husband’s strong hand.

“Thank you” she spoke almost in a whisper.

“Anything for you my love” he whispered back in her ear. He was fond of Vivian; he told her he loved her but in reality the most he felt was fondness and an easy feeling of comfort and companionship when she was near him.

The two spent their day admiring the flowers and plants and when the Whisperer thought it was time, he pulled his wife closer and asked,

“So how long have you known? And why haven’t you said anything?”

Vivian smiled sheepishly at her husband and then looked him in the eyes and quietly spoke,

“Since the beginning. A woman knows her man, her husband, and his mannerisms and intimately, you three are not identical.” Vivian blushed and when she looked up at her husband, she saw understanding in his eyes.

“OH! I am certain that the intimacy is something that never even crossed our minds.” The Whisperer smiled at her. “What mannerisms are different between us? It had been decades since the three had been in the same room and in all honestly he had forgotten what his brothers’ voices sounded like.

“Well,” Vivian sighed, “You are kind, thoughtful, and you check in on me every chance you get. Andrew looks at me with wonder, and amazement. And Thompson rarely looks at me in the eye. Those are just the things I can mention off the top of my head. I can go over more if you’d like.” Just then a wince of pain came across Vivian’s face and she grabbed her chest. She reached with her free hand for her husband and in a frail quiet voice said simply,

“Take me to the hospital now.”

The Whisperer raced across the gardens, pushing his wife who was screaming in pain. He loaded her into the van and then raced out of the parking lot to the nearest hospital.

Once there, he grabbed his wife out of the passenger seat, yelled at the duty nurse and she led him to the nearest emergency bed. He held his wife’s hand as she moaned and writhed in pain. He told the nurse everything that had been going on and then when the ER doctor showed up he repeated with slight indignation what he had just finished telling the nurse. The nurse gave Vivian something for her pain, and the once the medication started to work, she became a little more relaxed although he could still see she was suffering.

The doctors and nurses worked tirelessly to get Vivian’s pain under control, but to no avail. Every time they would try something else, her pain level would jump up again. The doctor finally asked to see the Whisperer outside of the room.

“As you well know sir, we have been attempting to reduce her pain. Unfortunately we have not been successful. We are going to take her for an MRI to see if there is anything we can do for her other than what we are doing.” The doctor handed the Whisperer a sheet of paper and he signed it with no questions.

He walked back into the room and grabbed his wife’s hand and leaned in and whispered something in her ear.

She smiled and then nodded and with that she was wheeled down to the MRI machine to await her scan.

As things were going on around him in the family waiting room, the Whisperer closed his eyes and found the image of Vivian on their wedding day. With his eyes closed, he outlined every single pixel of her. He thought that this is what love must feel like. He did adore Vivian and would be upset when she finally passed on to the glorious place saved in Heaven for her.

The doctor came and touched the Whisperer on the shoulder. “Will you come with me please?” The doctor looked forlorn. The doctor took the Whisperer around the corner and quietly spoke,

“I am sorry, but as the MRI was taking place, your wife, well, she passed away.” The doctor hung his head and waited for the man in front of him to say something.

“I see.” Was all that the Whisperer could forge out of his clouded mind.

“We would like to know if you would like an autopsy done to determine what killed her so suddenly.”

“Cancer!” the Whisperer spoke mockingly at the doctor. “She died from pancreatic cancer you dim-witted fool.”

The doctor said nothing and looked at the Whisperer in disbelief.

“What? You are shocked that I knew, or are you shocked because I called you dim witted?” The Whisperer shook his head and turned. Just before he walked away, he looked over his shoulder and spoke matter of factly,

“I will be picking my wife up tomorrow from the morgue, please be sure she will be ready. I abhor having to wait.” And with that the Whisperer turned his head and walked away, not once looking back at the doctor who he was sure was still standing there dumbfounded.

Vivian’s celebration of life was two days later. The Whisperer knew that a drawn-out affair, like a viewing and a funeral, was not what Vivian had in mind when they spoke of her plans for a funeral. The Whisperer was keen on having her friends and family speak after their minister, so he invited all those who had stories to tell to share them and he sat back and listened to all the good times or special times Vivian had with those she truly loved. He was still stunned that she had figured out that he and his brothers interchanged lives the way they did. When the day was over and the last person left the church, the Whisperer went and looked at all the flowers that had been sent, as well as all the donations that were made to the church. He was amazed at how generous people were when they were grieving. The minister had silently walked up behind the Whisperer and gently coughed as to not scare his parishioner.

“Thank you, Reverend that was exactly what Vivian would have wanted. I truly appreciate all that you have done for us not only today but throughout the years.” The Whisperer shook the minister’s hand as he spoke.

“I should be the one thanking you, after all you and your late wife have done for this church. Would you like us to send the flowers to your house?”

“No thank you Reverend. Please send them to the local children’s hospital or the local nursing home. I want someone to enjoy their beauty, plus Vivian would want that. Would you please send me all the cards and the donation cards so I can send out thank yous?”

“My pleasure.” The minister shook the Whisperer’s hand and then left him alone to be with God in the sanctuary.

The Whisperer had journaled everything that had transpired for his brothers to read. Next though was the task of hunting. Of course now the real fun would begin, now that he had no need to hide from anyone and no need to be secretive.