Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Invid Fan
Title: The Bells Toll for Mary
Universe: The Bells of Tanah
Summary: For twelve years, thirteen year old Mary and her father had
made a pilgrimage to the site where the old Bells supermarket, and her mom,
had vanished.  This year, though, something would happen...
Keywords: Science Fiction, No Sex

   **** The Bells Toll for Mary By Invid Fan Â(C)2012

   ****

   Author's note: This story is set after the events of The Bells of Tanah,
chapter one.

   ****

   "You are NOT my mother!"

   Samantha closed her eyes for a moment, shutting out the image of the
rebellious teen.  She had been expecting, and yes dreading, that comment.
As sure as water flowed downhill, at some point that fact was going to get
thrown in her face.  She had even told Mark she was ready for it, had her
reaction all planned out.

   She hadn't expected it so soon, though.

   The sound of stomping feet came to her ears.  With a sigh, Samantha
opened her eyes to see the thirteen year old retreating from the kitchen,
her ponytail whipping back at her, as if giving the stepmother the middle
finger.  A moment later, she and her husband heard the sound of a bedroom
door slamming.

   "Well," she said, turning to Mark, "that went well."

   "Gah..." He leaned forward, elbows on the kitchen table as he let his
forehead fall into his waiting hands.  "WHY did it have to happen today?  I
almost don't blame her..."

   Samantha looked at her husband, surprised.  Reaching over, she put a
hand on his arm.

   "Is it really that important?"

   Letting his hands drop from his face, Mark let out sigh, covering her
hand with his.

   "There were times, I think, when it was all we had..."

   ****

   With a cry of anguish, Mary threw herself onto her bed.

   "That fucking BITCH!"

   That's what she was, a bitch!  A bitch who had come in, taken HER daddy
from her!  Taken Daddy, and, now...

   Now she was taking Mommy, too.

   Turning her head, her blue eyes glared out the frosted window.  So what
if there was a blizzard out there.  So what if Buffalo was expected to get
hit even worse than Rochester, right when they'd be there!  Who cared about
the two hour drive, in the snow, for just a ten minute visit...

   She...  she had to be there.

   Without even looking, Mary reached over and grabbed the picture frame
off the nightstand.  She had the photo memorized, of course.  Just as she
had all her mom's pictures memorized.  Rolling onto her back, she propped
the silver frame up in front of her small breasts.  This was her favorite.
Her mother, holding a one year old baby.  Her hair was dark brown, shiny,
falling to her shoulders.  Her smile was warm, loving.  Those eyes...  Mary
had spent most of her young life trying to understand those eyes. 
Sometimes they looked sad, as if she knew time with her daughter would be
short.  Other days they looked happy, telling Mary that she was oh so proud
of what her daughter had become.

   Not once had they told of why she was gone.

   It wasn't fair.  All Mary had, of her real mother, was this tradition.
Once a year.  That's all she asked of her Dad, and now her Stepmother. 
And, that bitch had...

   *Knock Knock...  Knock*

   A bark of laughter was forced from her.  It was the Secret Father Knock.
Even though it had always just been the two of them, Daddy had used that
knock to tell her that he would go away if she wished, but was there to
talk if she needed him.

   She never sent him away.

   "Come in..."

   Mary put the photo down on the bed as her Dad entered her room.  He
looked sad.  She almost thought, "good!", but a half second later berated
herself.  Mom had been his wife, too, and the entire tradition had been
his. She hadn't started it as a two year old, that was for sure.  With a
sigh, he sat down on the edge of her pink bed.  Her hips slid a bit,
touching his back as his weight buckled the mattress.  His eyes went to the
picture frame on the bed next to him.

   "I'm so sorry, Mary.  Believe me, I want to do this as much as you
do..."

   "Then let's do it!  Screw the storm!  Come on Dad!" She sat up, both
hands grabbing his arm.  Surely, she could make him see...

   "We wouldn't make it," he sighed, eyes meeting hers.  "And I'm not going
to risk losing you in a storm like this, like I lost your mother."

   "She didn't die in a car crash, Dad!  She just vanished!"

   "All the more reason to keep you safe, Honey.  Look..." He brought his
free hand over to cover hers.  "How about we go for your birthday?  You can
show her how much you've grown.  Would you like that?"

   She could see in his eyes that this was killing him as much as it was
killing her...  and that his mind was made up.  The storm had won.  Letting
go of his arm, she fell back onto her pillow.

   "Fine..."

   "Thank you, Honey..." Leaning down, he kissed her forehead.  She closed
her eyes.  A moment later his weight vanished from the bed, followed by
footsteps and her door closing.  Behind it, Mary heard the muffled voices
of him and Samantha talking.

   So.  That was it.

   Time for plan B.

   ****

   "Oh Baby Baby, Baby Baby!"

   The sound of the oldies ringtone barely reached Wendi's ears over the
din of her stereo.  Not pausing in her toenail polishing, she reached her
left hand over and grabbed the phone from next to her pillow.

   "Hello, Wendi's house of pleasure.  You show 'em, we blow 'em."

   "Wendi, I need your brother!"

   Her hand stopped mid polish.

   "Um, since when is he your type?"

   "Since I'm running away from home tonight!  Go get him!"

   The thirteen year old redhead knew she wasn't the swiftest drawer in the
knife, but she couldn't have heard that right.  Looking down at the number,
to confirm it was in fact who she thought it was, she gave the only
possible reply.

   "What the fuck did you just say?"

   ****

   Snow blew past the window as Mary sat at her computer.  On the screen
she could see Wendi and her older brother, Steve.  The redheaded football
player was standing behind the 8th grader, having to bend down to stay in
the webcam's frame.  He was shaking his head in disbelief.

   "WHEN did this happen?"

   "Twelve years ago tonight!  My Mom was working at a supermarket outside
Buffalo, when, at 9:54 PM, during a blizzard, the entire store vanished! 
With everyone inside!  The only one left was a stock boy out in the parking
lot who was getting the carts!  My Mom, and everyone, was gone!"

   "Whoa," was Wendi's only contribution.  She looked like she didn't know
if she could believe her friend.  Probably partly because they'd only known
each other since September, when Mary's family moved to Rochester.  Mary
focused on eighteen year old Steve.

   "Every year since, Dad and I have gone there to mark the anniversary of
when we lost her!  EVERY YEAR!  But, with the storm, and probably the
bitching of my Stepmom-"

   "You wanted them to get married!" Wendi just had to jump in with that
fact.

   "- but they won't let me go this year!  And I have to!  Please, Steve,
you have to help me.  I know you have a truck, and a snowmobile.  Please!"

   She poured everything she had into that gaze.  She didn't know Wendi's
brother well.  He was usually out doing his own thing, and was a Senior to
boot.  But, what choice did she have...

   "I'll do it.  Meet me at the end of your street in ten minutes."

   ****

   Steve knew this was trouble.  Even as a teen who, let's face it, had
been part of his fair share of stupidity, driving a just barely teen girl
runaway across the county line was bad news.  We're talking Amber Alert,
with jail time if not sex offender time.  Not something that looks good on
college applications.

   But...

   The passenger door on his pickup opened.  In hurried a bundle of pink
and white, with a pink backpack.  The pack was thrown on the floor, while
the newcomer slammed the door shut and turned to him.

   "Hurry!  It's already 6:30!"

   That probably was what decided the matter for him.  She didn't try to
bribe her way into his car, offer sexual favors, or even make outrageous
arguments as to why she had to do this.  Instead, he saw this just meant
the world to her.

   Fuck the consequences.

   He pulled away, eyes staying on the road.  It was already mostly dark,
the snow at least as of yet not that bad.  A plow had been by earlier,
although the blacktop was already covered again.

   "So, what's our destination?"

   "Clarence.  Just get on the Thruway and get off at Transit.  I'll guide
you from there." Mary removed her hat and gloves, the truck already toasty.

   "Oh, no.  We're not going anywhere near the Thruway." She looked at him,
shocked.  "No, I'm not an idiot, just hear me out.  One, with that storm,
it's always possible the Thruway will be closed, and we don't want to
chance that.  Two, if your parents call the cops, having to go through a
toll both with you will be just too risky.  Three...  well, when, and I do
think it'll be when, we have to abandon the truck and use good old Red
Rider back there," he jerked a thumb at the snowmobile on the tow trailer,
"we'll do better going cross country than along the Thruway."

   Mary's eyes were wide.

   "Wow!  I would never have thought of all that!  You're smart!"

   "With age comes wisdom," he agreed, shifting as they turned onto a major
road.  "Dad doesn't agree, but what parent does."

   "Tell me about it..."

   ****

   Picking up the note on Mary's pillow, Mark sighed.  He should have
known. She had agreed too quickly.  Hell, HE still wasn't convinced, so how
the hell could he have expected to convince her?

   "Samantha!"

   Not paying attention to her reply, Mark gazed around the room as his
wife's footsteps came closer.  The photo was gone.  So too was her
backpack, and at least one stuffed animal.  That was expected.  She always
packed, as did he, both to show Hannah new things in their life, and... 
well, on the off chance that this time they could follow.  He had been
stupid to start that, but...  he had believed it.  At least, at first. 
And, maybe, the tradition had brought him and his daughter even closer
together.  But, now...

   His wife entered the room.

   "What is it, Mark?" He handed her the letter.

   "She's gone.  I should have taken her."

   "But, Mark!"

   "No but!"

   Turning, Mark stepped up to his wife of five months and took both hands
in his.  Her eyes widened at the seriousness of his expression.  He had
rarely put his foot down on anything, had not needed to.  Their wants and
needs had meshed so well, from the first.  Now, though...

   "Love...  we're going after her.  We're not calling the police, or
getting the guy who's taking her in trouble.  We're just going to go, meet
them there...  then come home."

   Her eyes shifted to the window, and the snow blowing beyond.

   "But..."

   "This is about love, not reason." Leaning down, he kissed her.  A light
touch of the lips.  With a wistful sigh, Samantha pulled back.

   "You loved Hannah so much?"

   "Almost as much as I love you, and Mary..."

   ****

   Mary couldn't see a damned thing out the window.

   Her gaze once again went to Steve.  He seemed to know what he was doing,
and while their top speed maxed out at around 30 MPH (and seemed
dangerously fast at that) they were at least still moving.  Either that, or
the snow was falling horizontally into the front windshield.

   She wanted to talk.  Wanted to tell him about Mom.  About her life,
growing up with Dad.  Wanted...  well, the conversation was part of the
ritual.  Her and Dad, talking about Mom, about their lives past and
present. Letting out a years worth of emotion, to make room for it to start
building up again.  But, she didn't want to bother him.  Steve had turned
off the radio a half hour ago, and they had ridden in silence ever since.

   Mary fell back against the car seat, the view outside making it look
like they had already crossed over into another world.

   The deer jumping in front brought them back to reality.

   ****

   Mark, slowly, merged from the onramp onto the deserted Thruway.

   Plows had been through at some point in the last hour.  That was both
good, and bad.  The down side was the uncovering of black ice in places. 
Snow, so long as it's not too deep, at least offers you some traction.

   "I've never driven in anything like this," Samantha told him, shaking
her head.  "Are you sure we'll be OK?"

   "We'll be fine," he reassured her.  He risked a glance over, smiling. 
"I'd take your hand, but part of being fine depends on two hands on the
wheel."

   "Oh, so you put my safety before romance.  I'm not sure how I should
take that!" With a smile, she put her hand on his knee.  "Just let me know
what you need."

   "You, my love...  and Mary."

   ****

   "Well, so much for the truck.  You OK?"

   Mary nodded, heart beating a thousand times a second.  She'd never been
in an accident before.  Well, kind of an accident.  Nothing had been hit,
but the pickup now had both righthand wheels in a ditch.  The deer,
unconcerned, was off somewhere doing whatever evil deer do.

   "I'll never feel sorry for Bambi again..."

   "Yeah, they're just giant rats." Steve turned the engine off, as well as
the headlights.  The two sat in the darkness, no sound apart from the
falling snow.

   "We'll just wait a few minutes, let our heart rates fall, then hop onto
the snowmobile and go."

   "How far are we?"

   He picked up the GPS and hit some buttons.

   "Thirty miles, maybe.  We should make it in time." He looked at her. 
"After, what do you plan on doing?"

   She closed her eyes.

   "Call Dad.  I'm surprised he hasn't tried to call me.  Maybe he's just
letting me sleep in my room, who knows.  I grabbed some money, maybe we get
two hotel rooms and deal with the adults tomorrow."

   He shook his head.

   "How much trouble are you going to be in over this?"

   "Don't care."

   ****

   They were flying through the darkness, the sound of the snowmobile all
that could be heard.  Steve kept to the roads.  That was the safest, he had
decided.  Too many unknown ditches and snow covered hazards to venture
cross country.  Traffic, thankfully, was light, mostly worried adults
trying to make it home from work.  No sane person would LEAVE home in this
weather.

   Luckily, he wasn't sane: he was a teen.

   The girl was clinging to his waist like her life depended on it, which
he had told her it did.  He could feel her face pressed into his back. 
He...  liked the feeling.  Hell, he liked her.  She hadn't prattled on in
the car, like his sister would have.  She had let him focus on driving,
deep in her own thoughts.  He liked that.  He knew nothing about her, not
having paid much attention to his younger sister's friends.  Why would he,
when he had half the girls in high school throwing themselves at him?

   When this was over, maybe he should rectify that situation.

   ****

   The Transit exit was actually the most dangerous part of the trip.

   Mark slowed, downshifting into second.  The stupid ramp made this huge
turn, and he could just feel the truck wanting to slide straight instead of
following the curve.  It was just waiting for a vehicle to come the other
way, so it could slide across the lane and smash into it.  Next to him,
Samantha clutched the dash.

   "If we start to crash, let go.  I don't want the airbag breaking your
arms."

   "Well, don't crash!"

   Mark almost said more.  He had been out of the relationship game long
enough for his survival skills to have withered quite a bit.  However, this
time at least he knew enough to bite his tongue.  Witty replies would not
be appreciated.

   The ramp straightened, and the truck found itself on the bridge over the
Thruway.  They could see the lights from the toll booth up ahead.

   "How far is it from here?" she asked, falling back into her seat.  She
replied to his glance with a tired smile.

   "Five minutes, without snow.  Not far." He slowed as the truck passed
through the Easy Pass lane.  "There's a bunch of motels nearby, so once we
collect Mary we'll just spend the night here."

   "Good."

   ****

   Fifteen minutes later, Mark pulled the truck off Main Street into an
unplowed parking lot.  Not wanting to get stuck, he stopped in the middle
of the small lot.  Turning off the key, and headlights, he let himself
collapse back into the seat.

   "We made it..."

   "Thank God..."

   He heard a seatbelt unclick, followed a second later by Samantha turning
his head and kissing him.  For a moment...  the world vanished.

   "OK," Mark said, coming back to his senses as Samantha pulled back to
her side of the car, a smug smile on her face.  "I'm going to have to put
us both in horrible danger more often." He looked outside.  "I don't see
anyone.  We must have beaten them."

   "How?"

   "No idea," he shrugged.  "Maybe they stopped at the rest area.  We're
early still.  If Mary's not here by ten, I'll give her a call and we'll go
rescue them."

   Samantha leaned forward, peering through the snow.

   "What is this place?"

   Mark was silent a moment, eyes taking in the scene.  Feeling her take
his hand, he squeezed.

   "The scene of...  well, whatever it was.  The store was right over
there. Afterwards...  the parents of one of the cashiers, a Muslim girl,
bought the lot and gave it to the town, to be made into a park.  They
didn't want another building put here."

   Shifting over, Samantha leaned against him, his arm moving to take its
usual place around her shoulders.

   "Did you come often?" she whispered.  Her eyes were on his face, as his
stayed out the window.

   "No...  just once a year.  We made our pilgrimage, said hello...  silly,
really."

   "No...  it's not..."

   They waited.

   ****

   "We're here."

   Mary barely heard Steve over the wind and motor, but his announcement
hadn't been needed.  They had passed the library and high school not that
long ago, making great time down Main Street, and she'd been checking off
each landmark.  Even buried in snow, she knew this route like the back of
her hand.  For the fifth time in the last minute, she glanced down at the
time on her phone.

   "Stop!"

   She was off the snowmobile even before he cut the motor.  She took one
step in the knee deep snow and fell forward.  Warm tears quickly came,
melting the snow around her eyes.  She had to hurry!

   Strong hands picked her up under her arms.

   "Where?!" he half shouted, lifting her over a drift.  She pointed at a
dark splotch sticking out of the snow.

   "There!  Hurry!"

   Mary felt like a baby again as the Senior carried her ten feet, then put
her down on a shallower patch of snow.  As soon as his hands released her,
she ran, backpack slamming against her back with each step.  She could
sense Steve walking a few steps behind.  Almost there!  With a final leap,
her hands shot out as she fell against an iron bell.

   Three feet high, on a small stone pedestal, the memorial stood where the
center of the outer front wall of the store had been.  Most of it was
buried.  Franticly, not hearing the car doors slam shut behind her, Mary
dug it out.  She didn't even have to look at the time.  She could count it
down.

   Ten seconds.

   Five.

   Now.

   In the faint light from distant light posts, the engraved name Hannah
Moyer shown clearly.  Taking off her glove, Mary's shaking finger traced
the cold metal words.  Tears, now welding up from a years worth of loss,
burst from her eyes, freezing against her cheek.

   "Mommy..."

   ****

   Mark walked up next to his daughter, Samantha stopping a step behind. 
Mary was on her knees, in the snow.  He wanted to reach out, to touch
her... but, this was her time.  In a minute, it would just be them again,
she would be his daughter.  Now, though...  she belonged to Hannah.

   There was a large teen standing behind Mary, snowmobile helmet under his
arm.  Mark nodded to him, giving thanks for keeping his daughter safe, then
looked back over Mary's head.

   It was here.

   This was where he lost his love.

   It was where his life had ended, and begun.  It was where...

   The snow shimmered.

   Inches from the back of the bell, it was like a movie was being
projected.  An image.  Extending over fifty feet in each direction.  A tall
brick wall, with a large picture window in front of them...

   It was the store.

   "Mary, LOOK!"

   His words shocked his daughter into looking up, surprise at hearing his
voice instantly replaced by amazement at what they were seeing.  It was
like the ghost of the building!  They were able to look inside, see the
shopping carts, the registers...

   Around the corner, behind the carts, walked two flickering figures.

   Closest to them was a man.  He was thin, almost scrawny, with short
black hair and a mustache, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.  Mark recognized
him.  He was the manager of the lost Bells.  Next to him, hand holding his,
was a brown haired woman, large breasts and an even larger belly pressing
against a one piece dress.

   "Hannah..."

   The words came out barely a whisper, but her ghostly head shot around
towards him.  The two spirits stopped, shock evident in their insubstantial
faces.

   Time froze.

   She didn't run to him.

   He didn't run to her.

   They stood, each in their own world, holding the hand of their new
partner.  Hannah's hand went to her belly.  Nothing more needed to be said.

   "I miss you," he whispered...

   "MOMMY!"

   ****

   She wasn't looking at her.

   Why?!?  Why wasn't her Mommy looking at Mary?  Why was she only looking
at Daddy?!?  Didn't she recognize...

   Oh!  She jumped to her feet.

   "MOMMY!"

   Her Mom's face whipped towards Mary.  Her eyes widened.  Letting go of
the man next to her, she fell to her knees, arms outstretched towards her
daughter.

   Mary never hesitated.

   ****

   With a leap, Mary hurtled past the bell, into the ghostly store.

   "MARY!!!!"

   Mark staggered forward half a step, arm outstretched, the other hand
clutching Samantha.

   His daughter!

   As soon as she passed through the image of the wall, she became
insubstantial.  The instant her feet touched that linoleum floor, the
entire image began to fade.  He could only watch, horrified, as his little
Mary fell into the arms of her lost mother.

   Standing next to them, Hannah's new husband's eyes met his.  His mouth
moved, and a faint voice tickled the back of Mark's mind.

   "I'm sorry.  I'll protect them."

   The store dissolved into swirling snow.

   ****

   "Next year..."

   "What?" Mark turned to his wife, mind still overwhelmed by it all. 
Samantha pulled his unresisting body against her, arms holding him close.

   "Next year," she whispered, kissing his ear, "and the year after.  And
the year after.  We'll be here every year...  for when they come back..."

   **** Edited by SciFi Nut

   Comments more then welcome.  invidfan@localnet.com
http://storiesonline.net/library/author.php?id=6389
/~Invid_Fan/