Babel: Ghosts of Eden

By John E Havrilla

Babel: The Ghosts of Eden is the first book in a new series and a whole new universe where science fiction, fantasy, and horror come together. This series follows the unlikely friendship of two people as they work out their personal demons and darkest secrets while trying to survive the horrors the universe throws at them.

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• Language: English
• Publisher: John Havrilla
• Release date: Mar 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798889551218

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

MORNINGSIDE

THE DAY BEFORE…

"A re you sure about that?" Dr. Medaglione asks into her phone, a black rectangle with a top that slides up and a screen that shows a multi-color spike ball that moves as if it’s a mirage on the water with the way it shimmers and jiggles. As she waits for an answer, she sits in her car looking at the entrance to the only funeral home in Eden.

We checked several times, Dr. Medaglione, a man speaks causing the spikes to grow in length with the speaker’s tone. It crackles, as the reception is not very good here.

We don’t have any records of that practice in or near the city of Oasis.

Well, try again. There has to be some explanation for this. There has to be. Maybe some oversight?

These questions are more for herself than to the person on the other side of the phone. In her heart she knows what she is hearing is true. And Welder was spotted at the edge of the solar system. The ramifications may be horrific.

It might be, but I doubt it. We will check again, but I wouldn’t set your hopes too high, Dr. Medaglione.

Fine. Do what you can. I’ll call back later to see if you find anything.

The man sighs, Always happy to help, Doctor.

The screen turns to black as Dr. Lucy Medaglione, the head psychologist of Eden, sighs before taking her phone off the dashboard and slides the top half back down over the screen and the translucent number pad.

She then pulls out a light purple pocket from her belt, a small pouch that ancient Earth women use to use instead of purses. She slides her phone in next to her pills, her ID, and other essential objects.

It was something she made at summer camp as a little girl for her mother. Her mother didn’t really have any use for it, so Medaglione found it useful instead of a purse during the end of her high school and college years.

She got a lot of flak and strange looks from other boys and girls her age for it, but Medaglione didn’t mind. She could retrieve something out of it within seconds without the hassle of searching through a large purse just to find a tube of lipstick. And because it was compact, it forced her to carry only the essentials. It was neat, efficient, and clean, just the way the good doctor likes it.

What Dr. Medaglione doesn’t like is what she will be facing soon as she confronts her former patient about what she found. She believes she must talk some reason into the weak, volatile creature before it's too late.

Medaglione opens the door of her car and slams it shut. Her long blond hair blows in the cool breeze. Pulling her white coat closed, she approaches the insidious building. Behind her, the main road stretches before the large cemetery.

The funeral home is a large mansion that is bathed in a weathered purple color. It teeters somewhat menacingly on its little hill. There is a large stained-glass window right above the main entrance. The red and yellow colors of the glass are in contrast with the dark, decaying roof and exterior of the building.

It is hard for Medaglione to look at it and not feel a little squeamish. The other windows almost seem to look at you like a target, as if the home was alive with insane intelligence. It seemed to be ready and waiting for people to come inside and devour them whole. The glaring funeral home discouraged any challenge or question.

But fortunately, the good doctor doesn’t let fear get in the way of her duties. So, it was pretty surprising that she nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a loud bang behind her.

Medaglione quickly turns around and sees that the small explosion came from a muffler of an old, yellow car slowly landing on the gravel parking lot. Smoke billows from underneath the vehicle as the wheezing and rattling sounds wane.

It takes a while for the driver to come out of his car. The car door wouldn’t budge until the driver had to use his shoulder to thrust the door open.

Finally, the door yields with a giant, rusty whine. A blond young man stumbles out, wearing a tacky, faded blue jacket and red tie with wrinkled black pants.

He seemed younger than Medaglione, who is only thirty-six. He looks out before him as he pushes his black, rimmed glasses farther on his nose. He then places his hands against the small of his back, pushing in to stretch. He finishes a few more little stretches and slams the door closed. The car, in response, leans toward him, startling its driver.

Deciding that nothing else was going to happen, the man slowly straightens out of his hunched position and pats the car with a gentle tap as it if was a loyal companion. The front bumper fell to the ground after that slight touch, much to the man’s dismay. He crouches down to pick it up and tries to figure out how to put the bumper back on. Multiple attempts to replace the bumper are unsuccessful. It crashes to the ground again and again.

Medaglione shakes her head at the foolishness. Walking away from the scene, Medaglione misses the man’s revelation. He snaps his fingers and pulls a small tube out from his inner pocket. He applies it to the bumper.

Medaglione becomes preoccupied with the sound of gravel crunching beneath her feet and the cawing of birds in the distance. She approaches a border of small trees and shrubs. The closer she gets to the barrier, she hears a man saying a few choice words in a soft, harsh tone to himself.

Medaglione walks through one of the many dirt pathways that lie between the trees and shrubs and finds herself on a sidewalk before a u-shaped driveway. The good doctor also sees a locked, metal gate further down the sidewalk on her right.

On the other side of the gate, a road juts off from the driveway, swerves around the mansion hill, and disappears behind it. To her right, the hearse waits for the ceremony to finish, and for its passenger to come into its fold for her final ride.

She also caught a glimpse of a motorcycle on the driveway and two men that stood a few feet away from her. Both men turn to look at her. Medaglione stops upon seeing them: she knew them well. The older gentleman in his late forties is cleanly shaven with nicely trimmed salt and pepper hair. He wears a black suit and tie that matched the same sentiment. His name is Michael Karas. A close friend of the governor of Utopia, he is the CEO of Robotic Technologies or R.T. RT is one of many subsidiaries owned by Sovereign. Sovereign runs Utopia along with many star systems just like it.

Karas’ company created many of the robots in Eden and Utopia, especially the fully armed security bots that patrol the colony 24/7. If Eden had anything close to a chief of security, Karas is it. And if there is anyone as lecherous and sleazy towards women as Karas is on Eden, Medaglione has yet to find one.

The other younger man was about Medaglione’s age and wore a brown jacket over a black shirt and blue jeans. Unlike the older man, his face has some scruff with a trimmed beard and mustache. His brown hair was combed but still had some wilderness about it. This man is someone that Medaglione knows primarily by word of mouth. He has been the source of her trouble, being related to her former patient that she has come to see. His name is Richard Markham.

Markham is a mercenary whose unique set of skills are usually categorized under the eight clans that make up the Guild. He works for the Lux clan of the Guild, a conglomerate of freelance specialists, adventurers, and guns for hire. These mercenaries will work in any part of space, Union, Dominion, or Neutral for the right price.

The Lux clan specializes in tracking down and killing monsters both human and non-human. The colony hired Markham to investigate rumors of a demon infestation in Eden. And thanks to Markham’s skills, Medaglione’s patient is now in a worse state.

The first lady requested Markham in particular as a reward for helping find a few lost kids camping in the woods at one of the poles of Utopia during a snowstorm. The parents of these kids are some of the richest and most powerful in Utopia.

A hero that Medaglione will admit is attractive in his own rugged way at first. But thanks to her patient’s urging, he found dreadful information on Eden’s dark past. Consequently, she finds him less appealing.

Markham’s findings fed into her patient’s delusion that a certain someone is after her. Dr. Medaglione’s patient cut ties with her when they last met.

Both men stop and turn towards Medaglione as she emerges from the bushes. Karas stares at her with a hunger in his eyes, admiring her curves revealed through her tight, vanilla skirt and her long legs.

Markham, on the other hand, just looks at her coldly. Or so it seems seeing her reflection in his sunglasses. A cigarette dangles from his lips.

Markham gestures with a polite nod. Medaglione returns the gesture. Karas bows his head before turning around and continuing his conversation with Markham. Although Karas is smaller in stature, that doesn’t stop the businessman from ripping into Markham. Markham maintains his stoic demeanor despite what is being said to him. As she walks across the driveway to the steep steps to the funeral home, Medaglione only hears fragments of the conversation. What she hears makes her happy.

Irresponsible... reckless… ghost stories and rumors… driving her mad… I should...

Medaglione is glad that someone else is also on the same page about Markham as she is; she just wishes it wasn’t Karas.

Medaglione walks past the large, wooden, green sign with gold trim that proudly declares that this was Morningside Funeral Home and starts to walk up the stone steps. They are thin and steep, with some of them being broken and cragged by years of use and hard weather. Medaglione has trouble staying balanced as she walks up in high heels. She is grateful for the occasional landing.

Dense, manicured bushes and trees edge the lawn. Out of the corner of her eye, Medaglione notices something rustling in the bushes. She puts this in the back of her mind as she manages the stairway’s last step to the front of the mansion. Located near Eden’s gloomiest area, this small section of lawn has been cleared from any shrub. The sun’s rays made it warm and pleasant, comfortable for mourners. Medaglione takes a deep breath. Slowly she walks up the last of the stone steps. At least these stairs are larger and more accommodating.

She comes to the broad oak doors, grips one of the giant black knockers, and gently lands it against the wooden exterior. After a few seconds, the door opens, and Medaglione walks into the house’s cold, dark, interior.

The home interior is cold and dark as the exterior, but at the same time comforting. It has a classic feel about it. Straight ahead is a grand staircase with a red carpet rolling out to greet her. At the top is the main landing, where two smaller staircases split off to either side. On either side of the staircases are ramps that lead down to a lower passage of the mansion. Since this is a funeral home, Medaglione doesn’t need much imagination to figure out the purpose of the ramps.

There are several rooms on either side of the large foyer. On the left are two large sliding doors, where conversation emanates from the room. On the right, closer to the doctor, there are two doors with glass knobs and windows covered with white shades. Farther still to the right, Medaglione sees a smaller door.

Several nicely polished wooden columns are stationed floor to balcony throughout the foyer, guarding each door and staircase. Large candelabras with unlit candles line the entry, a few framed pictures of birds and clouds on the wall behind the columns. Occasional small tables, with the usual brick-a-brack, complete the lobby of mourning and serenity. Three long tables positioned in a semi-circle in front of the stairs contain various food and drinks for the visitors.

Medaglione is impressed by the décor. She looks above to see the balconies that surround them and the large chandelier that hangs overhead. She has never been at a funeral at Morningside during the few years she has lived in Eden.

Are... are you here for the wake? a timid voice speaks behind Medaglione.

The doctor turns around and sees a young girl barely out of her teens, with long red hair, wearing black slacks and a white blouse. The girl looks troubled and seems to have a hard time keeping eye contact with Medaglione.

Um… yes, Medaglione stumbles on her reply. I guess so, is all she could reply. She wasn’t planning to stay long. She didn’t know the deceased, Nancy Dawson, except by reputation. Her only intention was to warn her patient of a danger that seems to loom in the distance. But what else could she say to the young girl who seemed ready to faint at the slightest provocation, the truth?

Then can you please sign the guest book? the young woman gestures at a thin book that is positioned on a mahogany stand. The… the director is very particular about every guest signing the guest… guest book.

Of course. Medaglione leaves the carpet. Her heels click on the checkered tile floor and echo softly in the room. She takes a blue pen on the stand and signs her name. Medaglione looks up at the young girl as she does so. I take it that you are not the funeral director.

The young woman looks at Medaglione with a slight look of horror on her face but quickly reclaims herself. No… no… She’s in her office handling last minute paperwork. The woman bows her head and looks at the floor. She will be down shortly.

I understand. Medaglione puts the pen back down and gestures towards the doors where inaudible conversations continue. Is the wake in there?

The girl nods her head in reply, glancing slightly at the doctor.

Medaglione walks towards the doors, her tapping heels echo in the foyer, then muffled by the soft carpet in the center of the room. She moves her hand to slide the door open slightly but hesitates. She considers how her patient might react to seeing the doctor. She walks back to the young girl.

May I wait in the foyer? I’m waiting for someone, and I don’t want to disturb the other guests.

That… that will be fine.

Thank you.

Medaglione looks around the large foyer and sees the perfect spot where she could stand inconspicuously to wait for her patient to come out of the room with the other guests.

May I wait there? Medaglione points at the landing of the staircase, where it splits in two. Medaglione notices a large painting that was hidden beneath the floor of the balcony.

Yes… yes. As long as you go no further. The director’s office is up there. She wishes not to be... di… disturbed.

Of course. I promise.

Medaglione then walks across the red carpet, slips between two tables full of food that guard the stairs. She slowly reached the landing and gazes at the massive portrait.

Medaglione examines the canvas and is impressed by its handiwork. The picture is of a person with an oversized, heavily jeweled crown. It’s hard to tell the gender. The person has features that are both male and female. It wore royal clothes that one would expect a king or prince to wear, but with a predominately female face. The regal person is leaving a small village in the desert and traveling by camel at night.

The doors below open, waking Medaglione from her trance. She watches the same strange man that she noticed in the parking lot earlier with the broken bumper. He enters, looking haggard and confused. He nods his head at the young woman and whispers something.

The young girl points toward the doors where the wake is being held.

The man looks over his shoulder, his brow raised, points at the door with one hand and then with the other. The young girl nods her head and then points at the guest book. He mumbles something and walks to the guest book. He trips over the red carpet, knocking him nearly to the ground; the young girl helps him. He writes in the guest book and whispers something else. She timidly nods back to him.

Medaglione is slightly amused. Instead of walking to the wake doors, the man strolls to the food tables. She watches him as he examines the table. Reaching for a croissant, he spies Medaglione watching him.

He blushes a little and nods his head with a smile on his face. He then walks between the tables, almost knocking them over. He ascends the staircase, nearly tripping over his own feet.

As he gets closer, Medaglione notices his faded and wrinkled clothes and scotch tape holding the bridge of his glasses together. He had a clean and unblemished face and a skinny frame that didn’t scream much muscle to her like Markham’s body did.

Here it comes, Medaglione thought. Another pick-up line from another man. It’s a funeral. No matter how old they are, a man is still a man. Instead, Medaglione is taken off guard. The man gives a smile void of the same wolfish appeal that most men have when they are about to harass a woman. The smile seems genuine, friendly, as if Medaglione was the first person that the man has seen in years.

Greetings, my dear lady, the man says with a proper and polite tone. It appears as though you caught me in a dreadful act. Caught my hand in the cookie jar, one would say.

That’s okay. We all get hungry.

Especially when one has had a long and frustrating trip getting here.

Yes, I could see that, the doctor muses, after I saw you and your car when you pulled up behind me.

The car? The man looks slightly confused for a few seconds before he lit up again. Aw, yes, the car. I thought I detected someone in the parking lot with me when things started to go south for Old Betsy.

Old Betsy?

It’s what I called the car when they gave it to me at the space port.

It looks run down; you may want a trade in.

I would dear lady, but it seems that’s the only one I could afford under my budget. But no matter, Old Betsy may be old and broken, but she pulls through no matter the storm. Besides, you’ll be amazed what super glue can do when it comes to things like fallen bumpers and hubcaps.

The man gives a little chuckle, which caused Medaglione to do the same. There was something infectious about the man and his cheery disposition. Beneath that smile, though, there was a hint of sadness. Medaglione can’t help but feel comfortable with this man, even though he seems to have trouble walking on his own two feet.

Dear me. Where are my manners? My name is Keyes. Jake Keyes. Keyes holds out his right hand.

Medaglione. Doctor Lucy Medaglione. I’m Eden’s resident therapist.

Hmm. Impressive.

They both shake hands.

Before Medaglione could ask what Keyes does for a living, Keyes walks past her with a swift and smooth movement. Curious. Medaglione didn’t think he could do that.

But I have to say, Keyes says as he pushes his glasses further back on his nose, this is a very interesting painting. Do you think it’s of a man or a woman?

Medaglione walks over to the painting and stands next to Keyes. I don’t know. I was wondering the same thing.

Seeing how this is a Christian colony, could it be a picture of Jesus?

Medaglione couldn’t answer that. She guesses it could be a strange picture of our savior Jesus Christ, just without a beard as he is typically portrayed. Medaglione thought it could be one of the three wise men leaving Jerusalem to visit the newborn king. However, the three kings usually are shown together, not separately. Seeing one and not all three is a real mystery.

And yet Medaglione feels like both answers are false. She feels something strange about the painting. Despite it looking harmless and benign, she senses that the painting represents something older than any of those stories told in the bible, something darker.

Medaglione looks up. Keyes sees it, too. They both stare above the painting. Too high for anyone to notice is a strange, rosy, red symbol on the canvas’s upper panel. At a funeral home, Medaglione doubts that most people mourning the loss of their loved ones would even care. The symbol looks like this:

Symbol

Medaglione can feel a strange knot in her stomach. The symbol was challenging to look at but at the same time intoxicating. These two strange, conflicting feelings make Medaglione’s head feel like it wants to split. The more she looks at the symbol, the harder it is to look away and the sicker she feels in her stomach. She is feeling lightheaded. She swears she can hear whispers, whispers coming from different directions and different voices. But at the same time, the voices seem to come from one strong, singular voice. It was all too hard for the good doctor to explain.

The whispers are too soft for Medaglione to comprehend. She felt if she heard what they said, they would drive her mad with the secrets that they told. Still, she thinks that she needs to know what the voices are saying and what terrible knowledge they foretold.

What is happening to me? Medaglione thinks to herself while she stares, mesmerized by the symbol.

Like my painting? a woman’s voice asks from Medaglione’s right, snapping her out of her trance. Similarly, Keyes was shaking his head. He falters a little bit on his balance.

Medaglione looks to the owner of the voice that broke them from their spell. She sees an older woman that looks to be in her late fifties to early sixties, with black curly hair tied up in a small bun. She’s wearing a light blue dress with a silver pendant resting on the upper neck of her dress. As the woman gets closer, Medaglione can see the pendent has a silhouette of a young woman facing sideways. Despite the woman’s age, she still looks spry enough to come over and snap Medaglione’s neck like a chicken’s wing. Although there’s a grin on the woman’s face, the light behind her eyes is hard and cold, as if she is looking at Medaglione and Keyes as specimens to dissect rather than seeing them as actual people.

The woman reaches the landing, tilting her head a bit, and asks with a calm and friendly voice, Well?

Well, what, Madam? Keyes asks as he swallows a hard lump in his throat.

The woman nods her head towards the painting.

Medaglione and Keyes look at the painting. Keyes shakes his head. Oh yes. The painting. Keyes clears his throat and replies as Medaglione is utterly speechless at this point, Yes… It’s very…

Medaglione notices that Keyes is trying not to stare at the painting and find the right words.

It’s unique, Medaglione replies.

The woman looks at Medaglione as Keyes turns and looks at her with gratitude. Yes, unique. I was just going to say that. Keyes turns towards the older woman. It’s very unique.

Medaglione clears her throat. Um… can we ask who the painting is supposed to be?

The woman turns to look at the painting with some pride present in her face. Oh, just a simple king traveling across the deserts of ancient earth.

So… this king… he’s... Keyes asks as he looks at the painting briefly with eyebrow raised, not one of the wise men visiting Joseph and Mary?

Medaglione is slightly stunned that Keyes had similar thoughts about the object of the painting, as not many people outside of Eden know the bible well enough. Even the people from Eden don’t know enough to make those connections. Which makes the well-read and spoken Keyes more of a curiosity the more she got to know him.

Oh no. The woman chuckles. I understand how one can imagine that given the religious beliefs of the people who reside here in Eden, but no. This king is older than any of those stories you read in the bible and a person who I believe is still with us today.

Hmm, fascinating, Keyes adds as he turns to look at the painting. The woman turns back, also, with religious awe.

So, who painted this? Medaglione asks.

The woman turns and looks at the doctor. Why, I did, my dear.

Keyes turns to the woman. You did?

The proud woman nods her head. Mmm, hmm. Inside this foyer, the paintings you will see, I bought out of a thrift store to keep things nice and pleasant. But scattered around this home, you will find many paintings done by me, including this one. Their subject matter is one of a very different taste than your typical audience would prefer.

So, this isn’t your only painting? Keyes asks.

No, I have a few more. I like to think of it as a hobby when work gets scarce.

Medaglione hears a tiny meow and feels something brush against her legs. But she’s too involved with the conversation at hand to pay it any mind.

So, can we presume that you are the director of this funeral home? Keyes asks as he bends to lightly push away whatever is pressing against his leg.

The woman bows her head a little bit as meowing continues. My name is Ms. Melissa Goose. Not only am I the owner and director of the Morningside Funeral home, but I also manage the daily routine and maintenance of the cemetery across the road from us.

The meowing gets louder and all three look down to see a black cat caressing itself against Goose’s dress.

Goose laughs as she picks up the creature and lets it nestle deep into her arms. Of course, some would call me mother.

Hmm ... Mother Goose. Catchy name, Keyes mutters to himself.

The cat purrs in Goose’s arms as she strokes it.

Keyes then leans forward, lifting a golden nametag attached to the cat’s collar with the tip of his fingers.

Sylvester, huh?

MEOW! The cat then screeches as it tries to claw Keyes before Goose could stop it. Once again Medaglione notices Keyes's speed and agility when he backs away just in time.

Sylvester! The cat hisses at Keyes. Goose turns her back towards Keyes as she rocks Sylvester. There, there. That’s no way to treat guests. We must be polite.

Goose then kisses the cat on its forehead. She turns back towards Keyes and Medaglione, but the cat continues to snarl under its breath staring at the two of them.

Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Ms. Goose. I didn’t mean to scare the poor thing.

That’s okay, Mr. … I am terribly sorry, but I never got your name.

It’s Keyes, madam. Jake Keyes. Keyes bows his head again, taking Goose’s hand and kissing it.

Goose looks pleased by the gesture.

It’s a pleasure to meet you.

The pleasure is all mine, Goose replies with a slight grin.

Keyes then gestures towards Medaglione. I don’t know if you two met, but this is…

Dr. Lucy Medaglione.

Yes? Medaglione says, a little concerned, How do you know my name?

Word passes around, my dear. Small colony and all.

Goose then looks at Keyes again. And I was saying you shouldn’t take heed to old Sylvester. He doesn’t normally take well to strangers, as don’t most of my other children.

Your…your other children?

Oh yes. I have more than one. You may have noticed them hanging about, hiding in the foliage on this hill. I normally put them outside to play during a viewing or a wake, so they don’t disturb our guests.

Goose then looks towards Sylvester. How did you get back in here? You naughty thing. Sylvester simply purrs in response. I must get you back outside. Goose looks around for a second before she spots her assistant by the door.

Oh, Kitty!

Kitty, the nervous redhead that Medaglione spoke to before, comes towards the steps.

Yes… Yes, Ms. Goose.

Goose looks at Keyes and Medaglione. This is my assistant, Kitty Fisher. She helps me around the house. Kitty...

Kitty looks up slightly scared as Goose walks down the stairs to meet her.

Can you see about putting Sylvester back out? He seems to have snuck back in, the little devil.

Y… yes, Ms. Goose, Kitty replies, never taking her eyes off the ground as she takes Sylvester out of her employer’s arms. Sylvester hisses as Kitty takes hold of him and waits for further instructions.

And when you get a chance can you tell Bon that the flowers on the Rosemonts’ grave need some pruning. I think I saw some weeds the last time I checked. Also, tell him to make sure that all the locks for the crypts are properly oiled. I don’t want them falling apart because of rust.

Yes, Ms. Goose. At once.

There are a few seconds of silence as Goose looks at the assistant, who does nothing but stare at the ground while the cat growls in her arms.

Well Ms. Fisher, get a move on. Carry out your duties and make sure all the guests are properly taken care of.

Kitty nods her head and walks towards the front door.

A door to the left where the wake is being held slides open. A tall, pale man emerges in a black suit and red tie, with unkempt black hair and vacant eyes.

Aw, yes. That would be Chris, letting the guests out. It seems the wake is over. Goose turns towards Medaglione and Keyes. If you’ll excuse me, I have to see if everything is in order for the carrying of the casket.

Of course. Keyes nods. Do what you think is best.

Thank you, Goose says with a warm-hearted grin. Food and drinks are here if you get hungry. Goose gestures towards the tables before her. She then gestures towards the room hidden by the stairs further right. The large bathroom is right over here. But Kitty or Chris will show you the one upstairs if you need it.

Goose gestures towards the man who opened the doors and was escorting people out. Goose starts to walk off but stops herself and turns around. And make sure to sign the guest book if you haven’t already. It’s essential that you do so to show you were here.

Don’t worry, Ms. Goose. Medaglione looks over at Keyes. That has already been taken care of, thanks to your assistant.

Goose nods her head. Good, good. She then looks at the two guests and bows her head. Now if I may… Goose walks off to meet the other guests, holding the edges of her dress.

Medaglione looks on at the people who are pouring out. Nancy Dawson wasn’t a popular person, not in the least. But she was a prominent executive in Sovereign’s Agriculture department before her retirement at seventy-six.

Ms. Dawson made the company a significant profit by leading the way for hardy crops and healthier livestock through genetics and breeding for first generation colonists of the new worlds on the edge of Known Space. For that, she was well respected till the day she died from pneumonia.