Behind the Wishes

By Tina Griffith

Before he turned 10 years old, Dolphyn learned to push his feelings down and keep his reactions bottled up. He had a premonition that someday all of his pent-up anger would come bubbling to the surface, and all it would take was one final straw and he would surely snap.

That day came when he was 27 years old, and with each and every explosion of fury from then on, came this sudden and unique talent of being able to make someone die just by uttering a few words. This strange gift worked in his favor, until he caused the woman he loves, to end her life. When he realized what he had done, he searched everywhere, trying desperately to find her. Will he get to her in time? Could he break the spell?

Read Behind The Wishes to find out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524610838

Tina Griffith

Tina Griffith has written 27 children’s books, worked in television for 11 years and radio for 5, and began writing romance novels, after her husband of 25 years passed away.  This is her 10th book in the last 12 years, and it’s the best one yet.  Tina writes in color, and pulls you into the story on the first page.  She breathes life into her characters and she keeps you interested until the very end.  She writes with raw emotion, and uses the strange reality of our private lives to tell her stories.  Yes, she gives the excitement of intoxicating lovemaking moments to her characters, but they are written with class and definitely worth reading.  All of her stories are compelling, which is probably why she has won awards for her writing skills.  If you’re looking for something to stimulate your senses, read anything that Tina Griffith has written.

Book preview

Behind the Wishes

Tina Griffith

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AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2016 Tina Griffith. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 06/20/2016

ISBN: 978-1-5246-1084-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-1083-8 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Many Thanks to Grant Greening for coming up with the title of this story, and for posing for the picture on the back cover

Contents

Silhouette, Arkansas - August 29, 1956

Chapter One

Present Day - Mystic, Arkansas – September 19, 1983

Chapter Two

Downtown, Mystic, Arkansas – September 20, 1983

Chapter Three

The Beginning of Life Without Bob Connelly

Chapter Four

Victoria’s First Day as a Social Worker – September 20, 1982

Chapter Five

Present Day - More Tragic Deaths – September 21, 1983

Chapter Six

A New Job Opportunity For Krystal – September 22, 1983

Chapter Seven

David’s Untimely Demise – September 23, 1983

Chapter Eight

A Blast From The Past

Chapter Nine

Trudy Dies – September 23, 1983

Chapter Ten

Don’t Kill The Messenger – September 24, 1983

Chapter Eleven

Dolphyn Wishes Victoria to ‘Go Away’ – Sept 25, 1983

Chapter Twelve

Victoria Dies – September 25, 1983

Chapter Thirteen

Dolphyn Gets Interrogated – September 26, 1983

Chapter Fourteen

A Couple Grows Closer – September 26, 1983

Chapter Fourteen

Dolphyn meets his mother – September 26, 1983

Chapter Fifteen

Introductions Were Made – September 27, 1983

Chapter Sixteen

Dolphyn’s Mother’s Life – December 2, 1943

Chapter Seventeen

The End, or was it The Beginning? September 29, 1984

Chapter Eighteen

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Scientists have calculated that the chances of something bizarre actually existing are a million-to-one. Magicians have calculated that million-to-one chances crop up nine times out of ten."

– Terry Pratchett, Mort

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Silhouette, Arkansas - August 29, 1956

Chapter One

While 17-year old Olivia Bok was gazing into the angelic face of her beautiful 9-pound 2-ounce, gorgeous baby boy, she was well-aware that she couldn’t keep him; her parents would never allow it, she was still in high school, plus he looked so much like his father that he would always be a constant reminder of how she had gotten pregnant. Still, Olivia loved her son with all her heart.

The tired young woman cradled the 2-hour old infant in her arms and found delight in every detail of his tiny body. She touched all of his wrinkles and stroked the few wisps of dark hair on his head, while he tried to focus and stare up at her. She kissed his chubby cheeks and counted all of his fingers and toes, just as any new mother would. As he was about to close his eyes for a much needed nap, she kissed his soft forehead and whispered hopeful promises in his ear, that he would have a good life without her.

Salty tears trickled down her wet cheeks, as she lifted his tiny body up. With his wobbly large head nestled against her collar bone, she gently tapped his bottom with one hand and rubbed his back with the other, all the while cooing tender words of love to her precious little boy.

Olivia held her darling baby in her arms all night long. The next morning, when the nurses needed to take him away for a while, she begged them to bring him back as quickly as possible. While he was gone, she rested, but she counted each minute with earnest, until he was brought back to her room.

Oliva couldn’t believe how much she had missed him, and the second their eyes met, it was like their connection had never ended. Sadly, there was a promise to keep; on the day when she was ready to leave the hospital, Olivia and her baby had to part company. But because that was still a day away, she dismissed the sorrowful occurrence and concentrated on the moment at hand.

At 10am the next morning, Olivia’s school friend, Sherry Ford, arrived to help her get ready.

Other than Sherry and her mother, nobody knew of Olivia’s pregnancy. It had been extremely difficult to hide such a thing from her parents and class mates, but with flowing, overly-large clothing, and a great fear of being found out, the secret stayed safe, right to the end.

Just as the three of them had planned for the past few months, the baby was carefully wrapped in a red and green plaid picnic blanket. When she was ready to go, he was then lovingly gathered into his mother’s caring arms. Olivia was asked to have a seat in a wheelchair, and both were wheeled out to the car. With tears flowing from her eyes and a broken heart beating rapidly inside of her chest, she held the tiny infant for the next 64 minutes, gazing at him intently while mindfully recording each breath and movement that he made. When the car came to a full stop and the gears were put into park, Olivia hesitated about the tormented moment before her, and wished that it had never arrived.

Sherry’s mother tapped Olivia’s shoulder twice, as a reference of where they were and why they were there. Olivia turned to her left and smiled weakly in the older woman’s direction, and then turned her focus back to the child that she would never see again. With a great unwillingness, she took a deep breath, and lifted his tiny body up so she could kiss his nose and forehead one more time. She then closed her eyes and breathed in how he smelled, and wondered how she would ever be able to say good-bye.

Mustering all of her courage, the new mother got out of the car and placed the swaddled baby in a dark brown weaved basket – another provision which she bought, just a few short weeks ago. As Sherry said good-bye to the tiny infant, she placed a grey stuffed dolphin next to his scrunched up face, and told him that she loved him.

Olivia walked slowly towards the 15-step staircase before her, eagerly hoping for something to change her mind. The new mom had tears of intense anguish cascading down her cheeks, as she very carefully laid the basket down on the third-from-the-last-step, of the Nykulak Orphanage. She then stood tall as she gave herself permission to watch him sleep for another full minute.

With her head bent forward, and with a mournful expression on her sorrowful and flushed face, Olivia stared down at her little boy as if she was trying to preserve the mental image forever. She felt miserable that he would never know her or why she had given him up, and wished him to have a good life.

With one more reason to fuss over him, she arranged both the blanket and his plush toy, and then sobbed even harder as she quickly moved away from the basket. With a broken heart, she bravely got into the car that took her back home. As the vehicle began to speed away, Olivia exhaled with a loud, forceful sob. She then closed her eyes, put her hands together in front of her face, and asked God to please bless her son with a good life, and to somehow let them meet in the future.

Present Day - Mystic, Arkansas – September 19, 1983

Chapter Two

It was 6:45pm on Monday, the kind of day where the sun was starting to go down early and the dark clouds of night were not far off on the horizon. The high-pitched chirping sounds of hungry baby birds, hoping to be fed one more time before going off to sleep, could be heard in every tree in the area. The wind was mild and gently rustling through the multi-colored leaves, as it entered and exited the tall tree branches. If you breathed in through your nose, you could catch the distinct smell of smoke from harvested potatoes and freshly-picked shucks of corn, which had just been thrown into a large bonfire. It was clearly autumn, the season which most people waited all year for. Well, all people except 27-year old Dolphyn Plaid, that is.

Every fiber in his body was brimming with anger, and from the waist up, he was slightly bent forward, as he quickly marched away from the very old wooden farm house. He shouldn’t yell at me like that, he muttered loudly to himself. His lips were pursed and his eye brows were furrowed as he continued to pout. I only asked him when we were gonna eat supper, is all. His temper tantrum was not keeping him warm against the slight chill in the air, so he folded his arms roughly across his chest as he kept stamping one heavy foot on the ground in front of the other, to get as far away from the old man as possible.

The 67-year old, divorced man with a grouchy disposition, was Mr. Bob Connelly. He had taken Dolphyn in and rented him a room in his home, in exchange for a handsome monthly rent.

Dolphyn had been raised in an orphanage all of his life. He had never before been given the go-ahead to ever think for himself, had never cooked anything without supervision, or worked outside of the home. Mr. Connelly had always encouraged Dolphyn to do whatever was necessary to keep the house clean, the bills paid, and the food bought and cooked. With practice comes perfection, was the older man’s motto. Dolphyn needed a lot of practice, but after being roommates for 8 years, he was now able to cook easy meals, vacuum, and do all the laundry. Mr. Connelly was more than proud of himself for not only getting paid for having this boy live in his house, but because he had groomed the boy to do all the housework, as well.

Why does he always want to make things so unpleasant for me? Dolphyn questioned for the 100th time that year. Deep in his heart Dolphyn was quite grateful to the old man for giving him a decent home to live in, but today, his anger had reached its ultimate peak.

Dolphyn’s immaturity caused him to act quite child-like, about once every two or three days. And because of his emotional, learning, and other personality issues, he had an anger problem and always wanted things to be done his way, and right away. Mr. Connelly had his own domineering issues, so there had been more than a few rough words spoken between them since the day when Dolphyn had moved in.

Tonight, the lifetime of angst that he had kept bottled up inside the depths of his being, had built up so high, that it felt like an emotional anvil had split his soul in half. Dolphyn couldn’t think, his words were silenced by how livid he felt, his mind was swirling with a dozen confusing thoughts, and all he could think to do was walk off his frustration. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes real tight as he took another step, and with every ounce of impassioned strength in his soul, he whispered his deepest desire to the air around him. A single tear escaped from the outside corner of his right eye, as he heaved his chest. After releasing a strong sigh, he shouted, I wish that I could get some time alone in the house, without Mr. Connelly always circling and hovering around me!

Once the tempered words left his body, he felt a strange sense of freedom. His head slung forward in a desperate and defeated manner as he took another step. A full minute later, he took another giant cleansing breath to try to relax the large muscles in his body. He then realized how much he truly wanted the yelling and arguing between them to stop. He hated the constant daily battles that ensued between them, and just wanted to live in peace and quiet.

Since the day when Dolphyn had come to live in the farm house, Bob Connelly had tried to look past the fact that the younger man had a few emotional problems. Mr. Connelly was old and pretty set in his ways, and he had his limits. The generous rent money, which was supplied by Social Services each month, seemed to make their situation a bit more tolerable, so he put up with the problems and let some things slide – like the boy’s frequent temper tantrums.

Dolphyn was trudging along, when he heard a loud rumbling sound coming from the sky. He looked up and thought he could smell rain coming, and hoped that it wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow. Then he noticed that the clouds seemed to be racing across the heavens, as they changed color from white to grey. He took another step forward while rolling up the short collar of his jacket, and was now even more convinced that rain was coming.

As he continued down the dirt path, Dolphyn noticed that the breeze had picked up its mild pace. The velocity was now moderate and played softly with the long, sandy-colored bangs on his forehead. The air was caressing each feature on his face and he could tell that his skin was growing cooler. But in his angry state of mind he knew it would be better to walk his fury off, rather than to go home and continue the audible battle. While he maintained to stomp down the dusty road, he wondered what would happen if he turned around and went back home right then and there. In vivid detail, he imaged the entire conversation in his mind, and he could hear Mr. Connelly’s boisterous voice looming towards his delicate ears. Do you feel better now? the round man snorted in a condescending manner. The comment and the tone, even though it had not really happened, made Dolphyn even angrier.

Mr. Connelly loved it when the young man left the house for a while. It not only gave him back his personal space, but he then had the chance to snoop around in places where he knew it was forbidden, and today was no exception.

As usual, Mr. Connelly watched out the large window when the young man left the house, and the moment he saw Dolphyn’s back disappear down the road, he took the opportunity to search through the boy’s room. He looked under the bed, between the mattresses, and under the sheets and pillow. He inspected in between all of the pages in Dolphyn’s favorite book, and then searched very aggressively, in the back of all four of the drawers in the tall blue dresser, in the far corner of the room.

Dolphyn’s entire body was growing colder with each step that he took, but he didn’t want to stop walking. He grabbed a firm hold of the two sides of his flimsy jacket and pulled them towards the middle of his chest, and kept marching down the road. Thirteen steps later, Dolphyn heard another, much louder rumble, and now worried that the rain would come sooner than he had predicted. Even with the fear of getting wet, Dolphyn kept marching forward with continued vigor. For deep inside, he felt he needed to expend all of the anger and energy which he had bottled up inside of him, for fear of exploding the moment he stepped back inside the old man’s home.

His head was bent down as he quickened his pace, but he hadn’t been paying much attention to how far he had gone. All of a sudden, an incredibly loud crack of yet another, even stronger sounding rumble, ripped across the entire sky. The accompanying light from the growling atmosphere, made the area where Dolphyn was standing so bright, you’d think that the sun had just set itself down on the ground beside him.

Dolphyn’s throat went dry and his heart began pushing to get out of his chest. He had just been royally spooked by the great noise and dazzling light, and was now becoming quite terrified when the ground beneath his feet had begun to vibrate.

With his anger pushed aside for the moment, he closed his eyes real tight, held in his breath, and stood perfectly still. Immense fear immediately saturated every one of his senses. In that instance, those 6 short seconds felt like 10 very long minutes. And the whole while when his body had remained as solid as a statue, he could not feel, think, or speak. He did pray, though. He prayed that he was back home again, under the warm comforter on his double bed.

The second after the blazing light had disappeared, the ground beneath his feet had also stopped moving. Dolphyn opened his eyes very slowly, and with total apprehension, he looked around. As his eyes moved, enormous curiosity surged through every cell in his being. With his heart still beating strong and loud in his chest, he carefully scanned the nearby countryside and could sense that everything seemed to be a tiny bit different.

Dolphyn, now a bit calmer but still in a state of slight confusion, didn’t fully recognize his surroundings, but he tried not to panic. He then looked up to the sky and could see that all of the white clouds had now turned to dark grey. By his own formula of rational judgment, Dolphyn moved his head and assessed the view of the long road behind him. He quickly recognized that he had better start back. Without hesitating, the grown man changed directions and began his journey home.

Mr. Connelly had found things in Dolphyn’s room which made him blush, some made his mind fill with wonder, one thing he liked and took for himself, but for the most part, he put everything back the way he found them, so as not to cause any more problems for the two roommates.

Minutes after he began his long trek back to shelter, Dolphyn became startled when he heard a loud, odd noise coming from somewhere nearby. This not only surprised him, but it totally captivated every sense of his imagination. Sh-h-h-h! There it goes again! he stated to everything around him. His worn out work boots were now planted firmly in the dirt, a good two feet apart from each other. His fingers were also spread apart and held up in the air very stiffly, as if each digit could detect danger or noise. His average-shaped body was hunched over just a little, as his ears and eyes tried to track the smallest of sounds. He waited with baited breath for anything to draw his attention, but knew in the back of his mind that he couldn’t delay the immeasurable walk home, for too much longer.

Dolphyn closed his eyes and then stood very tall and still. He was trying to use his mental radar to determine where the odd sound could have come from.

‘Brreep’

As soon as he heard it again, he opened his eyes and went to hunt for it.

The peculiar sound took him just off the road and into the dried grassy land, and onto the edge of someone’s large country property. Dolphyn’s gorgeous brown eyes hurriedly searched through many blades of long green grass, until he finally discovered what he had been looking for. How odd, he declared to himself as he stared down at his unusual treasure.

Dolphyn straightened his posture and stood up. This discovery made him even more curious, and caused him to immediately assess his surroundings from one side to the other. While his eyes scanned the vastness of the green land around him, he found himself to be caught off guard when there was suddenly a silence so huge, that it was deafening. This frightened him and made him want to run home, but he didn’t want to leave the eggs behind. He looked down at the three oddly-shaped, small, white eggs with brown flecks, and wondered how they had gotten there.

Who do you belong to? he asked in a cooing manner, as if he was talking to a very young child. A minor rumbling off in the distant, reminded him that he should be getting home before it got too dark. Because he hadn’t eaten in hours, the eggs were tempting and now making him hungry. As he bent down to pick them up, he said in a soft steady voice, Well, if nobody wants you, I’ll take you. He lifted the clumpy patch of grass in which the tiny eggs were found, and began walking towards the farmhouse.

As Mr. Connelly closed the door to Dolphyn’s bedroom, the older man glanced briefly towards the clock on the side table. Measuring the time against how dark it was getting outside, he knew that Dolphyn should be coming back home fairly soon. After hearing the click of the bedroom door locking against the jam, Mr. Connelly went to his own room to lie down and wait for the supper, which he hoped that Dolphyn would make when he got home.

Dolphyn followed the road for what seemed like a very long time, and before it got pitch dark, he caught sight of the farmhouse. He was grateful that the porch light had been turned on, because it made it easier for him to step on parts of the driveway where he knew he wouldn’t fall. He opened the front door and went inside, and after removing his shoes, he went straight into the kitchen and washed his hands.

Mr. Connelly must have fallen asleep, for he didn’t hear his young roommate come home. He did, however, hear the rattling of the cupboards, the fridge door opening and closing, the cupboard drawers slamming shut, and the frying pan hitting a burner on the stove. Because he knew that supper was being started, he got up to investigate. The older man brushed his fingers through the sparse, greasy hair, on the left side of his head as he walked, and pulled up his baggy trousers with the other hand.

Dolphyn’s simple mind was completely focused on what he was doing, and he was very anxious to eat one of the eggs, if not two. He still wasn’t sure what kind of eggs they were, but his mind understood that eggs were meant to be eaten.

Dolphyn didn’t see Mr. Connelly when he came in through the front door,