Children in the Park

By Rosemarie E. Bishop

Steve Maldier is an architect specializing in designing and redesigning homes. His wife, Elaina, is an interior decorator, but both are working for other companies when they’d rather be working for themselves.

When they’re forced to take a business trip to Maine to see one of Steve’s clients, Marcia Cranston, they discover there is much more to Marcia’s redesign project than either could have foreseen. Add to that the secret Steve has been keeping from Elaina for many months about the dead children he is suddenly seeing in the park in New Hampshire and the trip to Maine takes on a frightening new twist.

Children in the Park teaches us to open our minds to all possibilities. It shows how entities from other worlds can work together to defeat whatever obstacles are thrown in their paths as they persevere to protect each other, especially the children.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 13, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796018868

Rosemarie E. Bishop

About the Author Bishop began writing novels in 1999 and currently has six other novels in print. Three of them are parts of The Moral Vampire Series – Search For A Soul, A Matter Of Conscience, and Spiritual Vengeance, plus three stand alone novels, Noah’s Garden, Mrs. Pope, and A Brother’s Love. In 1996 Rosemarie began her studies in Reiki, the art of hands-on healing. Today she is a Reiki Master/Healer/Teacher and teaches others this ancient healing technique whenever a student is led to her. Ms. Bishop lives in Southern New Hampshire with her husband, Christopher, and their furry family member, Teasha, that she finds peace with in their woodland home. For more information about this author and her work visit www.rosemariebishop.com.

Book preview

PART I

There are things unknown and things known, and in between are the doors of perception.

- Aldous Huxley

Chapter 1

Steve Maldier sat in the park up the road from his office where he worked as an architectural engineer. He mainly worked on larger homes and office buildings, all of which were in New Hampshire. He took this break nearly every day during his lunch hour to relax, clear his mind, and escape from his demanding boss, but today he couldn’t get away from work. Even though he walked away from the building through the crisp autumn air and even though he sat in a park watching children play with their parents and each other, nothing could get his mind of this latest project. There were many issues that had to be resolved. First of all, he hadn’t been able to visit the mansion in Maine himself, so a team of photographers were sent so he would have an idea about the project. Secondly, it was in Maine.

His interior decorator wife, Elaina, was really the brains behind many of his more complicated architectural designs. She had a feeling for the wealthy clients and the styles of the older homes scattered throughout New England. She could envision a room re-built and decorated before the project was even started just by looking at what was already there. But she wasn’t available when he’d tried to reach her earlier, and he was stuck on revising the kitchen of the home in Maine he’d been commissioned to redesign. Without his wife to bounce his ideas off of, he was lost.

Elaina had been the love of Steve’s life since he met her in high school. Her long brown hair drew his attention one day when he was walking into a rally with the rest of the students. He saw her flip her hair back, saw the shine that came from it, then saw how its gently curled ends settled perfectly into place. For the rest of that rally he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Eventually they each went to college, were married, bought their home, but never had children. He and his wife had hoped to have children, but they were never able to. They tried, but after Elaina’s third miscarriage, they simple gave up hope and resigned themselves to the fact that it wasn’t meant for them. Seeing the children here in the park gave him a feeling of regret that they hadn’t done enough to conceive and maintain the pregnancy. It was a deep regret for both of them, but they each buried themselves in their respective careers, making names for themselves, and that took up most of their time throughout the years.

Elaina’s interior decorating ideas gave Steve the motivation for much of the architectural designs he came up with. He needed to make the structure of the house and the interior decorations complement each other, but he never knew what a home owner might choose. Elaina was able to give him a few ideas based on what he told her about his clients. This time, however, the owner of the home in Maine wanted a lot of storage space in the kitchen, but the kitchen was originally created very small. Without knocking down walls that adjoined the living and dining areas, as the owner had instructed against, he could not find a way to save the walls and still provide additional space in the kitchen.

Steve rubbed his forehead as he did his best to envision a new kitchen, but it was the children playing in the park in front of him that finally caught his attention and distracted him. He had been coming here for nearly two months just to get some fresh air and escape from his office and his aggravating, hovering boss.

It was strange to Steve how he recognized so many of the children simply because their clothes hadn’t changed. They were the same ones he’d seen a couple weeks ago and many times since. At first he thought these children were in costume. After all, it was close to Halloween when he first started noticing their clothes, and he assumed there must have been something going on at school, but Halloween had come and gone, and these children continued to play here in what appeared to him to be period clothing. Some of them wore knickers from the early 1900s while others were dressed in shorts and sandals that seemed to have come straight from a 1950s retro clothes shop, but it was late autumn and much too chilly for that kind of dress.

He knew of a place down in Boston where various kinds of period clothing could be found. It might have even been Cambridge. He couldn’t remember exactly, but these children definitely were not dressed in the kinds of clothes children wore today in the early twenty-first century. In addition, it was November and none of them wore coats, sweaters, or even shoes. It didn’t seem strange in the beginning of his visits to this park. After all, early autumn was still a comfortable, warm time of year, but now it just did not make sense that parents would let their children go out in weather like this without protection against the cold. Maybe they were street children without families, or children of families who had no means to provide for them. There were many such families all over the country, not to mention here in New England … here in New Hampshire.

Watching the children and their older style clothing reminded him of the Cranston House in Island Falls, Maine that he was supposed to be thinking about and the kitchen he was supposed to be redesigning. The house was very old and had been in the family for many generations. But even as his thoughts had drawn him back to this project, he hadn’t expected to see a pair of big, brown eyes peeking out at him from beside the bench where he currently sat.

What are you up to? he asked the little girl with long blonde hair, who smiled at him but said nothing. Where are your parents?

The cute little girl just smiled back at him, then ran away to join her friends who stood just thirty feet away. He was struck by her ruffled, pink dress, little white ankle socks, and black, patent leather shoes. She had a long pink ribbon tied in a bow at the back of her head to hold a small swatch of hair. She was adorable, but her dress was short-sleeved, and her clothing made him think of a Victorian Easter. Where the heck were her parents? It was too chilly today to be running around dressed the way she was. Adults were even dressing warmer than she was at this time of year.

Steve took his cell phone from his pocket and tried his wife again, but again she did not answer. He checked his watch and saw that he’d have just enough time to get back to his office if he left now, so he stood to go, then turned to look at the children one more time. The little girl in the pink dress was standing in the same place with her friends as they watched him and giggled. Steve had only a moment to wonder what was so funny before he turned to start back to work.

*     *     *     *

Steve sat at his desk for over an hour, working on creating the layout for a new kitchen design, but his thoughts took him everywhere except on the project he was struggling with. All he had to work with was a crude blueprint of the inside layout of the house and almost three dozen pictures that had been taken by a scouting team when the company sent them up there to determine if this was a project they’d be interested in. At first Steve’s bosses decided against taking on the endeavor, but the owner, Marcia Cranston, offered to pay twice the firm’s normal fee for this kind of job. Obviously, money talks because his immediate boss, Jim Fielding, changed his mind and accepted the work, along with the down payment of two hundred thousand dollars. Heck, Marcia Cranston could have bought herself a brand new house for that kind of money, but it was family property and an inheritance that she must have felt obligated to maintain. Whatever the motivation behind it, Marcia Cranston had been adamant that the Crystal Blue Architectural Design Company was the one she wanted to do this work. Why them? There must have been architectural firms in Maine just as qualified. This whole project had bothered Steve from the time the company had accepted it two months ago.

How’s it going? Jim Fielding asked as he patted Steve’s shoulder. Jim was one of the bosses, and an owner of the company, whom Steve almost resented for having accepted this job up in Maine. Jim was in his early sixties and nearly bald with a huge belly from eating too many gourmet dinners while entertaining wealthy clients, or so Steve assumed. Working on the Cranston place? Jim sat on the corner of Steve’s desk. Strange woman, that Marcia Cranston. Beautiful in her day I’m sure, but strange.

You’ve met her then? Steve asked. He didn’t really want to give Jim bait for a conversation, but he needed as much information as he could get about this whole job.

Only once when she came down here to see the place and pay her bribery money … or down payment, I suppose I should call it. Either way, it was ridiculous. The remodeling might cost a hundred thousand given the age of the home and what she wants done, but twice that? And we only require a down payment, not the whole job paid for up front. Jim shook his head, grabbed his coffee from behind him on Steve’s desk, and shrugged his shoulder. Who am I to say, ‘No?’ She had a chauffeur driving her car, so she apparently has a lot of money."

That’s what I’ve thought, Steve said as he leaned back in his chair and stretched. Why us? Yeah, the money she’s paying is outrageous, but why would she come all the way down here just to hire us?

Not us, Jim said. You. Jim leaned forward toward Steve as if to draw attention to his point. "She wanted you to work on the project. Specifically you." Leaning back, Jim smiled awkwardly at Steve and patted his stomach.

Oh, that doesn’t make any sense, Steve said, shaking his head. I don’t even know this woman.

Well, she must have heard about you.

I don’t know how. It’s not like I’m some kind of Frank Lloyd Wright. My designs are mediocre at best. Another puzzle. The house, the children, and now this.

All I can tell you is what I know, Jim said. She came down here to hire you … not just the firm. I suppose that means you’ll be driving up to meet her.

Steve understood Jim’s words to be an order more than a suggestion. I might have to, Steve said. I’m having a helluva time redesigning the kitchen. All I have are the pictures our scouting team took, the dimensions they wrote down, and this fading old blueprint. She wants more storage room in the kitchen without moving any walls. It’s impossible.

Maybe if you drive up there and look at it yourself, maybe talk to her and convince her to move the walls instead of knocking them down completely, then she’ll see the problem.

Maybe, Steve said. I’m going to have to give it more thought. I have a lot of things to think about.

Trouble at home? Jim asked.

No, nothing like that, Steve said, shaking his head. Have you been to the park? I’ve been going there during my lunch for almost two months, and I keep seeing these children playing there.

That’s what kids do in the park, Steve, Jim sarcastically said as he stood.

I know, but these kids are all dressed in weird clothing … like they’re from another time or something. Here it’s the end of November, and they aren’t even dressed warm. Where are their parents?

Have you been sleeping well? Jim asked, as he looked sideways at Steve.

On and off, Steve replied. Like everyone else I have my good days and bad days. But I’ve been watching these kids for weeks, and it bothers me.

You’re too soft. If they’re homeless or something, the state will be there soon enough. They’ll be taken care of. Just relax. Jim patted Steve’s back as he stood up. You know there’s a deadline on those plans for the house, don’t you? I hope you’ll have a preliminary design by the middle of December.

Preliminary, yes. Complete, probably not until I can get a look inside myself.

Good enough, Jim said, as he started toward the door. Say hello to your wife.

I will, Steve said, then watched his office door close. He didn’t like the idea of driving up to Island Falls, Maine, especially in the winter, which would be approaching soon. Even now there had been snow falling up there, though Steve hadn’t paid much attention to the weather reports. He would have to talk to Elaina about the possibility of going up there with him. He knew he’d be more comfortable with her by his side. Nothing about this was making sense to him. Marcia Cranston had asked for him specifically? That made less sense than her hiring the firm in the first place, a company from New Hampshire.

He stood up and grabbed his keys. He couldn’t concentrate now. There was a sinking feeling forming in the pit of his stomach, and he needed to get away from the job, try to get his mind off it completely. He was taking the rest of the day off.

He wanted to.

He had to.

*     *     *     *

Steve heard Elaina’s car pull in the driveway. He’d been lying on the sofa in the living room since he arrived at home only a couple hours ago. He brushed his fingers through his short brown hair to make himself look presentable given the news he had to share with her. He did not want to think about the travel up to Island Falls, but that’s all that had been on his mind. Steve had never minded driving anywhere, but he knew Elaina was very focused on her own work and was never willing to take time off that wasn’t preplanned many months in advance. This trip to Maine would have to happen soon if he were to have a preliminary set of plans on Jim’s desk by the middle of December. Added to the fact that Thanksgiving was only two weeks away when his brother, David, and his family would be coming to celebrate, Steve was nowhere near looking forward to explaining it all to his wife. Thank heaven Christmas was always milder for them when they were able to chose where, and if, they wanted to go anywhere.

The front door opened causing Steve to sit up and wait.

Steve, his wife called out. I’m home. What are you doing home so soon?

Steve stood up and walked to the kitchen where he knew his wife would be setting down her purse, books, and keys as she did every time she arrived home. He marveled at her beauty after 26 years of marriage and how lucky he was to have married a woman as focused and determined as she had always been. Her long softly curled brown hair fell over one shoulder as she looked up at him curiously.

Steve walked up to her and kissed her gently on the forehead. It looks like I’ll be driving up to Maine, he said. There was no reason to beat around the bush, he’d decided. Fielding wants a preliminary plan on his desk for the Cranston place in December, and there doesn’t seem to be any other way around it.

Did he say that? Elaina asked, looking stunned and worried at the same time.

He didn’t have to, Steve said as he started a fresh pot of coffee for both of them. You know how he is. Subtle, but obvious at the same time. His insinuation was clear and as much as I hate to admit it, I agreed.

Oh Steve, Elaina complained with a sigh. How are we ever gonna pull that off at this time of year? It’s a six-hour drive to Island Falls. We’ll have to stay over somewhere and meet with the owner. It’ll be a couple days at least. We’ll need one to get there and get settled and one to get home. We won’t even know how long we’ll need with the owner or to view what needs to be done. Elaina paced around the kitchen with her hand moving from her head to think, then to her hips for some reason Steve never could figure. All he knew was that it reminded him of an angry schoolteacher.

You don’t have to go with me, Steve said, hoping she wouldn’t agree with him.

Of course, I’ll have to go with you, Elaina said. This is a really important job for you. I just don’t know how I’ll be able to work in the time to make this trip with the heavy schedule I’m carrying right now. Most of my clients want their homes redone in time for the holidays. I’m going to have to study my schedule and see how I can cram jobs together in order to open up room for this trip. She stopped pacing and turned sharply toward him. Why can’t Jim go instead of you?

Steve looked at her incredulously, then realized she didn’t know about his conversation with Jim earlier. Because apparently Marcia Cranston didn’t just hire the firm. She hired me in particular.

What? Elaina asked loudly. Did you know her before?

I never even heard of her, Steve said in his own defense. I don’t know where she would have heard of me, either. This whole job doesn’t make sense.

I know, Elaina said as she leaned on the kitchen counter. Well, let me see what I can do with my schedule and find a hotel to book for a few days. I’ll get my secretary on the hotel. I’ll rearrange my schedule myself. Elaina headed out of the kitchen, unbuttoning her jacket on her way to the closet to hang it up. I’m going up to change.

What do you want to do about dinner? Steve called after her, but Elaina either didn’t hear him or was too deep in thought, as usual. He knew it was best to leave her alone to figure things out for this short trip. Dinner could wait for now.

Chapter 2

It had been three days since Steve had spoken with Elaina about his required trip to Maine. Every day he checked with her to see if she’d been able to rearrange her schedule or if her secretary had been able to find a hotel for them, but all she’d ever told him was that they were still working on it. In the meantime, Jim continued to pester him about getting up there and getting the kitchen plans on Jim’s desk. The more time passed, the more apprehensive Steve was getting about making the trip. To add to the trepidation, the weather report for the next week did not look good. Up in Island Falls they were expecting six to eight inches of snow this weekend. Tomorrow was Saturday. Not that he expected to leave this quickly, but he knew that once the snow started, they had months of it to look forward to before the weather would break. This was the worst possible time for him to be traveling to an island off the coast of Maine. The whole state of Maine traditionally got much more snow than southern New Hampshire did. And it started earlier up there.

Steve sat in the park once again, but he could clearly see he wouldn’t have much time left to enjoy these afternoons because of the growing cold temperatures. Even today he had to drive rather than walk to the park because of the chilly wind. Still, he had avoided going to the park for a few days after he’d first spoken with Elaina about the trip because he wanted to calm the overwhelming feeling about so much happening at once in his life, but his curiosity about the children nagged at him, and he couldn’t stay away any longer. He almost felt guilty for not going, as if he were ignoring the kids that played there. Silly, but he felt what he felt. So, he showed up yesterday, but the sudden rain/snow mix caused him to head right back to his office and bury himself in other projects that were near completion anyway. He wanted to have everything under control before the holidays, but this one project in Maine had become his nemesis. He knew the only way to deal with it was to face it head on no matter what that might require.

As he sat watching the children and marveling at their lack of warmer clothes, he noticed the same little girl with the long blonde hair and pink bow he had seen before.

She couldn’t have been more than five or six years old. Standing alone beside the big maple tree on the left side of the park, she was looking at him and smiling as if nothing were wrong, as if she weren’t cold at all. How could that be? Steve needed his winter topcoat, scarf, and gloves just to be comfortable outside today. He wondered if her mother was around because he wanted to go talk to her, but the little girl didn’t seem to be connecting to any other adult in the park. And there were only a few adults to begin with.

Steve decided to walk over to her and see what happened. As he slowly headed in her direction, she didn’t seem frightened. Instead, she seemed excited to see him, so he continued walking. When he reached her, she looked up at him and waved, but did not say a word.

What are you doing all by yourself? Steve asked her, suddenly hoping no one would think he was trying to kidnap her or anything. What’s your name?

The young girl looked away shyly, but continued to smile. Sarah, she softly said.

Where are your parents, Sarah? Steve asked her as he looked around.

They’re dead, Sarah said matter-of-factly.

So who takes care of you? Steve asked horrified to think of this young child being neglected by the people who were supposed to be watching out for her.

We all take care of each other, Sarah said as she motioned toward the other children. Their parents are all dead, too.

An immediate chill ran down Steve’s spine that had nothing to do with the temperature outside. He was mortified. You’re all too young to take care of each other, he said. Where do you live? Do you all live together somewhere?

Sarah nodded and held her arms out to her sides. We live right here now, she said. It’s fun.

Not in the park, Steve said. Where do you go when you leave the park every day? Where do you sleep?

We don’t sleep anymore, Sarah said. We don’t have to.

Again, Steve felt that chill on his back, and the shiver that ran through his body. Parents are dead? Children that don’t have to sleep anymore? Children who don’t dress properly for the weather? Children who live here now? Where did they live before?

Steve was afraid to ask. In his gut he already felt the answers to the questions that cropped up in his mind. But it couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. But he had to hear the answers for himself, knowing no one he knew would believe him. Why don’t you have to sleep, Sarah? he asked. Everyone needs to sleep.

Because she’s dead, a masculine voice bluntly said from behind him as Sarah ran off to play with one of her friends.

Steve stood up and turned around to see a teenage boy about 16 or 17 years old standing behind him with his arms crossed, the boy’s words still causing him to physically shake from hearing what he’d already suspected was true. You’re not dead, but you see them too? Steve asked.

Oh, I’m dead too, the teenager said a bit arrogantly. The look on his face seemed to be a mix between tough-guy and sadness.

Regardless of whether what the teenager said was true or not, the fact was they both heard what the girl said. But I see you, Steve said to him in a voice that quivered slightly. He didn’t want to accept what the teenager had told him, but Steve felt it in his gut.

You’re supposed to see us, the teenager said. Otherwise you wouldn’t.

Steve followed the teenager as he walked back to the bench where Steve had been sitting earlier. The young man was wearing jeans and a black sweatshirt with some kind of band logo on the back. His sneakers looked well-worn, and when he turned around, a gold chain that hung from his neck shifted and glittered. Steve watched as this unusual acquaintance sat down, then motioned for Steve to sit down beside him.

What’s going on here? Steve asked, not at all concerned about how much time he had left for his lunch hour. What did you mean when you said, ‘She’s dead.’?

Most of the children in this park that you’ve been watching passed away at some point in time, the teenage boy said. Some in the early 1900s, others even before that.

If that’s true, then what are they doing here? Steve asked. And what about the ones who aren’t dead? Steve wondered why he wasn’t afraid of what he’d just been told, but he instantly knew the reason. He suspected it was something along those lines once Halloween was over, and the children were still hanging around in the park dressed as they were. Are you dead? he asked the teenager without thinking. It just poured out of his mouth as if it were something that was waiting to be asked.

I already told you I was, the teenager looked at him and gave a frustrated sigh. And I don’t know why they’re here, the young man said as he leaned forward to rest his elbows against his knees. They just showed up about a month ago or so. The kids who aren’t dead are still young enough to be able to see them. It hasn’t been that long since they came to exist here in the physical. It won’t be long before that ethereal vision, if you wanna call it that, disappears for them, too. The teenager looked directly at Steve. As for me, I’ve been hanging here since I died. Car accident a few years ago. Thought I was cool. He turned toward Steve and put his hand out. My name’s Rodney, but my buddies called me Rod, or Hot Rod sometimes. I like to drive fast, or at least I used to.

Steve moved his arm to shake hands with Rodney, but felt nothing when he tried to take the young man’s hand. A cold chill ran through his arm as he dropped it to rest on the bench. I hope I’m dreaming, Steve said as he looked out over the park at the children. My name’s Steve.

I know your name, Steve. And you’re not dreaming. Rodney sighed. This is as real as real gets, unfortunately.

I’ve never seen ghosts in my life, Steve said, disbelief filling his insides. What am I supposed to do with this?

With what? Rodney asked. Knowing you can see them? Rodney paused as he leaned closer. They don’t like to be called ghosts, by the way, Rodney told him. They’re spirits.

Steve looked at Rodney incredulously. What’s the difference?

Rodney chuckled. "I guess ghosts make people think of bad things like hauntings and poltergeist shit, but