[October 5th] [Perry Mason] Do the Words I Say Ever Make It Through?, 3

[insaneladybug.livejournal.com]

Title: Do the Words I Say Ever Make It Through?, part 3
Day/Theme: October 5th - Let the winds of heaven blow through
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Lieutenant Anderson, Erna Norden
Rating: T/PG-13

Cross-posted to octoberwriting.


By Lucky_Ladybug

Andy had been desperately pounding on Mrs. Norden’s door for several minutes. Surely even if she thought he was dead, she would hear the noise! But it seemed that no matter how he knocked and screamed and pleaded, he might as well be trying to move a mountain. In fact, maybe that would be easier.

He had seen her car in the apartment complex’s parking lot. She had to be there. But if she was there, if even one of her neighbors heard the noise, why didn’t someone come? Or call the police? Something.

At last he stopped, slumping against the door in despair. He should have gone to Mignon Germaine first, he supposed, just as he had determined to do. But after his experience with seeing such a despondent and shattered Lieutenant Tragg, he had practically ran all the way to Mrs. Norden’s.

“Oh, I don’t know what to do,” he whispered, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know what to do at all. That madman was right; no one can see me. No one can even hear me!”

His heart was thumping in his chest. Surely that was proof that he was alive . . . wasn’t it? Surely whoever was behind this couldn’t make a spirit believe in life that had expired, even if he could keep mortals under his spell. But by now Andy felt so much like a spirit that he was unsure of everything.

The sound of the doorknob turning brought him up with a start. He leaped away from the door, turning to face his surrogate mother with the last threads of his hope.

The sight of Erna Norden’s agonized eyes and gaunt face sickened him. He had not seen her look like that since the days following Otto’s death. She had died a thousand times with Otto in those days. From the looks of it now, she had done the same with Andy. But when she spoke, his desperate hopes were rekindled.

“Andy?”

He stared, almost in disbelief. “Mama Norden?” he choked out. “Mama, can you see me? Can you hear me?”

She gazed ahead, through him as it were. “I thought I heard my son,” she whispered. “I thought for a moment he had come back to me.”

Andy’s hopes were dashed, replaced by a cold and unforgiving chill. “No!” he protested. “No, Mama. I’m here. I have come back to you. And I’m not dead. I swear I’m not dead!” He reached out, laying his hands on her shoulders. “Oh Mama, please. Please tell me you can feel this. Please tell me . . .” The lump in his throat cut off all other words.

Slowly, disbelievingly, Mrs. Norden groped through the air, finally touching Andy’s shoulder. “You are here, aren’t you, Andy?” she said softly, as though to raise her voice would be sacrilege. And as though she had no strength to even raise it at all.

“I’m here,” Andy declared. “Mama, can’t you even see me? Can you only feel me, and in some sort of eerie, gossamer way, like you might feel the touch of a spirit?” He shuddered. “Oh, I’m not dead! It’s all part of some twisted, evil spell. I’m alive! I’m alive and well. And I’m right here.”

Mrs. Norden relaxed against him, drawing her trembling arms around him in a grieving embrace. “You’re here,” she realized, apparently independent of anything Andy was struggling to communicate to her. “You’ve come home. I haven’t felt your presence since . . . since the bomb, but now I know you’re here.”

Andy shut his eyes, nearly at the point of tears. “Mama, why can’t you even hear me?” he cried. “If only I could make you understand and believe! I’m not dead. I was abducted by some madman while I recovered from the explosion! He made you and everyone else believe I was dead on arrival at the hospital. He made you think I was lying in that casket, that you saw me there! But I wasn’t there. I was never there!” He clutched at Mrs. Norden in agony. “If you could just hear me or see me . . . !”

Mrs. Norden embraced him for some time in complete silence. Then at last she drew back, while still keeping hold of one arm.

“Come inside, Andy,” she implored. “Do not leave again, except to visit the others. Please stay.”

Andy trailed into the apartment with her, his heart racing. He had tried everything he knew how to try, to no avail. He could not bear to leave her when she was aware of him on some level, but he had to try to find help. He was alive, he really knew he was alive in spite of any doubts, and yet he just could not prove it.

Mignon Germaine had to know a way. Maybe, if he could touch things, he could write where she could see the writing. She would probably think it was spirit writing, but at least she would have his words. If she could understand the situation, surely she would know of something to fix it.

In fact, if it would work for Mignon, why couldn’t it work for Mrs. Norden? He searched for a piece of paper.

She could definitely hear that. “Andy, what are you doing?” she asked. “What do you want? I will try to help all that I can.”

Andy finally drew out a sheet of paper from the drawer in the living room end table. Grabbing up a pen, he started to write. Bewildered, Mrs. Norden drew closer.

Mama Norden, I am not dead! Some madman is trying to make you and everyone else believe that I am. I know how that must sound. To me, it’s completely preposterous. And yet I know it must be true. I can’t communicate with anyone. No one can see or hear me, including you. But I can feel my heart beating. I’m breathing! Mama, please believe what I’m telling you. I’m alive.

Mrs. Norden paled and swayed. In desperation she gripped the table to keep from fainting. “No,” she whispered. “No, it can’t be true. It’s too much to hope for, to dream of. And it is a terrible nightmare. No one could do such things. Such evil magic isn’t real.”

It is real, Mama. I wouldn’t have believed it either, if not for this.

Shaking, Mrs. Norden sank into a chair. “What can we do, Andy?” she asked in dismay. “If this is all real, what can we do?”

Andy was not sure that she fully believed him even now. He sat next to her as he wrote.

I don’t know. I was hoping Mignon Germaine might know how to break the spell.

“I will call her,” Mrs. Norden told him. “I will call her and tell her about all of this, but she might not believe.”

Please try, Mama. If anyone can help us, she should be able to.

Mrs. Norden shook her head. “I wish I could feel your heartbeat, Andy. I wish I could know that you are truly alive.” She turned, reaching for him. “You’re over here, aren’t you, Andy? I can’t feel anything.”

Andy took her hand, guiding it to his chest. “Can’t you feel this?” he asked in despair. “Mama, can’t you feel it at all?”

Mrs. Norden let out a small gasp as he took her hand. She could feel that, yes. But when he tried to press her hand against the spot where his heart was beating, she could only sadly shake her head.

“I’m sorry, Andy,” she said quietly. “I can’t feel your heart. I can’t feel anything except a gentle hand.

“Oh, is this real? Is any of it real? Are you even truly here, Andy?” She shut her eyes. “Maybe it is all only a dream.”

It couldn’t be a dream, could it? It was all too real. But then, dreams felt that way sometimes, didn’t they?

Andy shut his eyes too, praying for relief and release and to be fully alive again.

For even if his heart was beating and he drew breath, how could he really think of himself as alive until his loved ones believed it and knew it?