The Crying Bridge

The Crying Bridge--Chapter 10

 As Del was coming back from her morning run on Sunday, she spotted something on the ground at the back corner of the porch. Shimmering morning light was playing through the limbs of the trees and was bouncing off something there on the ground, something shiny.

Curious, she walked to the object, bent over and picked it up. She got an odd look on her face as she held it in her hand. It was a small silver rattle, the kind you'd give a new baby as a keepsake. She couldn't tell if it was real sterling or not, but it looked brand new. Knowing she had never owned anything like that, had never purchased any such thing like that in her life, she was very confused. The rattle was definitely not hers. How would something like this get here, by my porch? She wondered. She turned it over in her hand and noticed it was engraved on the other side. "Caleb" was all it said. There was no middle or last name, no birthdate.

Suddenly, with no reason at all, Del's skin broke out in gooseflesh. The morning was not hot by any means but not cool either but there she stood, a shiver running down her spine. She knew it was unreasonable, but she imagined this rattle belonging to that poor baby in the old ghost story, imagined he had dropped it as his mother carried him to the creek to end his life. Rationally, she knew that was ridiculous. The rattle look brand new with not a scratch or mark of any kind on it, save for the engraving. If it had been out here all those years, it would have been buried more into the ground and would have been severely tarnished. She went inside and kicked off her shoes and sat on the sofa looking at the strange object. What other explanation was there? Could there really be kids around who were going to this much trouble to play a practical joke on her? She was still covered in goosebumps and suddenly dropped the rattle on the table and wiped her hand against her shorts. She no longer cared for the way it felt in her hand, it made her feel obscene in some way. She kept telling herself she was being silly, but a part of her was convinced that this rattle was some odd manifestation from that old story. It had really happened, a young mother had drowned her own child, her son and his name had been Caleb and someone had marked his life by engraving this rattle. Had it been his mother? Or someone else, his father maybe? Would she ever know, ever understand what was going on here in her new home? She sighed and stood up, glancing at the clock.

"Damn it," she muttered. She was running late now with barely enough time to shower before leaving to meet Evan for breakfast. She showered and dressed quickly, throwing on some shorts and a t-shirt, slipped her feet into a pair of sandals. Just before she went out the door, she took a tissue and picked up the rattle, still not wanting to touch it. She wrapped the tissue around it and dropped it into her bag. She wanted Evan's opinion on it. Still feeling uncomfortable, she locked the door as she went out. If there were kids trying to scare her, she wanted to make sure they couldn't get into her house.

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They sat on the small love seat in Evan's living room. He had listened to her as she recounted the tale of finding the rattle. He was turning it over in his hand with as much confusion as Del herself had.

Finally, he said, "Okay, well now I'm worried about what might be going on out at your place."

"Worried?"

"Well, yeah. It seems like somebody, or multiple somebodies are really trying to scare you and I'm wondering why and what they might do next. I don't like the idea of you out there all alone."

"So you still think it's kids?" She asked.

Evan nodded. "I do, but now I think it may not be just all in fun. I mean this looks sort of expensive, don't you think?"