09 - Return Of The Witch by Dana E. Donovan Read Free Book Online

mattered, because the truth was that I was pissed off at myself. I let Tony run back into that building, knowing he had a bad ankle. Carlos held me back, but I could have done something. I could have stopped Tony. I didn’t.
    I fell to my knees, buried my face in my hands and surrendered to the pain.
    Later, I collected the splintered wood from the shattered furniture, took it out back and built myself a bonfire. In it, went everything I could haul out the door, the bookcase, the china hutch, the ottoman—everything. What the hell, I needed new furniture anyway.
    I went and emptied Tony’s closet next, throwing all his clothes onto the fire. They smoldered at first, blackened around the edges and then finally succumbed to the righteous flames.
    With the yard alight, I stood back, splayed my arms to the sky and recited these words.
     
    “ Take these things that Tony wore, he leaves behind and needs no more. What hand did touch so too his finger, I know a part of him doth linger .”
     
    The fire hiccupped and belched out an orange ball that mushroomed into a cloud and lifted into the heavens. Its tail remained tethered, however, swelling and thickening into a pasty swarm, dense enough to obscure the trees beyond.
    I waited.
    Nothing.
    I circled the fire, stepping slowly, inspecting the column of smoke and scrutinizing every detail. It still wanted something. But what?
    “Of course!” I thumped my forehead with the palm of my hand “How stupid!”
    I ran into the house and returned with Tony’s picture, the one Carlos had taken of us on our wedding night. I removed it from its frame, kissed it softly and offered these words.
     
    “ See him now his image fair, I call to thee, that he appear. Let him see beyond the flames, and know the one that calls his name .”
     
    I pitched the photo into the fire, setting off a spontaneous reaction that spewed towering flames high up into the tree. The brilliant flash blinded me, and the accompanying shockwave knocked me on my butt. Intense, though brief, the heat singed the hairs on my arms, yet left my skin cool to the touch of the temperate breeze.
    I stood , dusted myself off and marveled at the sight before me. Gone was the thick plume of smoke. It had thinned to a fine mist that swirled in abstract form before disappearing altogether. In its wake, stood my Tony, or his apparition to be sure.
    He looked beautiful. Strong and handsome.
    He hovered above the fire, his image kept aloft by the thermal currents rising from the flames.
    “Tony!” I c ried.
    He appeared confused at first, unsure of his surroundings. Yet through the glare of firelight, he saw me and smiled. I tried reaching for him. The heat drove me back. He did the same, unable to push through the confines of his spectral boundaries.
    “Tony?” I pressed my hand to my heart. “I’m sorry.” His image flickered briefly and then reappeared. “Did you hear me?”
    He put his hand to his ear and attempted to lean in closer.
    “I’m sorry! I’m….” The weight of my emotions drove me to my knees. “I love you.”
    He smiled and blew me a kiss.
    I pressed my fingers to my lips and returned the kiss. “Tony.” I heard my voice cracking.  “You were the love certain of my life. I know you know. But it’s… it’s okay to go now. It’s okay to say goodbye.”
    I saw him take a staggered breath and hold his finger to the air , but the fire died quickly. The thermal waves surrendered his image to the wind. Tony’s apparition faded in a stir of hot ashes and rode a spiral wand of glowing embers up into the sky.
    There was so much more I wanted to tell him, so much I never said and should have while he was alive. I tilted my head back, blinking through tears, watching the tiny sparks disappear in a flutter.
     
    Hours later, when I went to bed, I thought I’d dream of Tony. Hoped I would. Instead, I had another crazy dream, a violent affair reminiscent of the old Surgeon Stalker days.
    I dreamed I was