His Legacy

“Hello.”

“My I speak to Sydney Palmer.”

“This is she. My I ask who is calling.”

“Sydney, my name is Tasha. I am a trauma nurse from the ER. Do you know Donald Palmer?”

“Yes, that is my husband. Is something wrong? Is he okay?”

“No, I am sorry to say we need you to come to the hospital. He was in a bad car accident.”

“Oh my God. NO!!!!!!!!!!!”

Sydney grabbed her keys and purse and ran out the door. “No, this is not happening. This is just a nightmare. I am dreaming. He will be fine. He is alright. I know he is. “Sydney was doing a hundred miles an hour in a 30-speed zone. She had to get to the hospital. This just was not happening. Her husband was her world. They did not have a perfect life, but it was their life. Yes, they argued. They had tough times just like any other couple, but they were strong.

Sydney thought back to the day they had first met. Donald had bumped into her coming out of the gas station. She was in a rush trying to get to work. Her car was on “E” and she needed gas fast. She had not even noticed Donald, but he had noticed her. She was so busy going about her routine. She was not even aware that Donald had followed her to work at the local Walmart. Donald walked in and made a purchase just to go through her line so that he could talk to her. He certainly had caught her attention. Donald was 6’4, olive skin, black wavy hair and the grayest eyes. His eyes looked like clouds on a rainy day. Donald was fit and had an athletic build. He loved to run. Donald had asked me on a date while I was checking him out. I was stunned. All I could think why would a guy that looked like him want a girl like me, but I said yes. I am so glad that I did. Six years ago, I made the best decision of my life.

Donald turned out to be a girl’s dream. He was kind and loving. He was a hard worker. I wanted for nothing. Donald made sure I felt loved and that I had everything I needed. To know that he was lying alone in the hospital bed made my stomach turn. I got to get to him. Sydney punched the gas even harder. Flying like a bat out of hell, she was determined to get to her husband’s side.

Sydney walked into the hospital. She ran to the front desk of the ER.

“My name is Sydney Palmer. I received a call that my husband, Donald Palmer was in terrible car accident.”

The nurse looked up at Sydney. She stared at her. Sydney did not realize how beautiful that she was with black curly hair that framed her round honey brown face with big doe eyes.

“Ma’am, allow me to get the doctor.”

Sydney watched as the nurse walked from behind the desk and around the corner. It felt like the nurse was gone for hours, but she was only gone a few minutes. The nurse walked back, and the doctor came behind her.

“Mrs. Palmer, my name is Dr. Taylor. Will you please come with me?

“My husband.” Sydney said. The doctor kept walking. He walked Sydney to the door. He opened the door and ushered Sydney inside. He instantly turned around and said, “Mrs. Palmer, I am afraid that your husband did not make.” Sydney hit the floor.

Sydney woke up and all she saw was a bright light.

“Where am I?”

“Mrs. Palmer, are you okay? You just passed out?” the nurse said.

“Where is my husband?”

“Mrs. Palmer, your husband was involved in a bad car accident and did not make it. I am so sorry?”

“NOOOOOOOOOO! God, nooo, Donald!!!!!” she screamed.

The nurse felt so bad for her. To find out that your husband did not make is a traumatizing experience.

“Mrs. Palmer is there someone that you would like for me to call.”

Tears were running down her face and silent sobs were coming from Sydney. The nurse was trying to console her. She just let her cry. The nurse held Sydney and rocked her back and forth for what seemed liked hours. “Mrs. Palmer, you can talk to our chaplain. “

“No, I do not want to talk with anyone. I just want to go home.”

“Mrs. Palmer, there is a police officer that would like to speak with you.”

“Okay.” Sydney said weekly.

The police officer walker through the door. “Mrs. Palmer, I am so sorry for your loss. My name is Officer Reed. I was one of the officers that were on the scene of your husband’s accident. Some of your husband’s belongings was recovered from the scene. The officer handed her a bad.

“What happened? What caused my husband’s accident?”

“Mrs. Palmer, your husband seemed to have lost control of his car and crashed into a tree. Again, I am so sorry for your loss.” Officer Reed said and then turned and walked away.

Sydney felt cold. She felt like everyone was going about their normal routine. No one understood how she was feeling or what she was feeling. Sydney turned to walk out the door. She saw the nurse at the ER front desk. She wanted to ask if she could see Donald one last time, but she decided she would rather remember him smiling as he left the house this morning. She did not want to talk to anyone. She just wanted to get out of the hospital. It was a cold, lifeless place. Sydney felt like she was just existing. She walked out the door. She was headed to her car. She tired. She was alone. Donald, her husband was gone.

Sydney made it home. She walked up the stairs of her two-story house. She entered her bedroom. Her bed was still unmade from this morning. She and Donald had made love this morning before he left for work.

“I will never get to touch my husband again.” The tears started to come. She walked to the bathroom and started the shower. She stepped in the shower and the tears just flowed. She cried until she could not cry any more. She stepped and grabbed a towel and tied it around her. She walked back and set on the bed. The brown envelope stared at her. She knew it was filled with Donald’s belonging. She grabbed the envelope and emptied the contents on the bed. The items hit the sheets. There was his phone screened all cracked. “Why do the police give you a cracked phone?” There was his watch, his wallet, and a little black book. “Hmmm. What is this?” Sydney had never seen this item before. “Why does Donald have a little black book?” Sydney thought.

She grabbed the little black book. The black cover was battered and torn. The pages looked yellowish, but she noticed that there were names written on each page. It had to be over a hundred names. The little black book was field with women and men names. There were numbers written out beside each name. On the last page was a phone number. Sydney picked up the phone and dialed “555-346-7199”. The phone rang and rand. Eventually someone picked up and just said 110 Oak Ridge Road. 5 am and hung up.

Sydney was confused. “What is this?” She was left puzzled and found herself lying in bed thinking why someone would just give an address only. The hours passed. Sydney laid there wide awake. She could not get the address out of her head. Her husband was dead. He had a little black book that she had never seen before. She looked at the clock and it read 4:30 am. Sydney got up and pulled on a pair of black leggings and black tank top and black jacket. She grabbed her car keys and headed out the door. Sydney got in the car and headed towards 110 Oak Ridge Road.

Sydney pulled up to a little house. It was pitch black. There was not a light or a person in sight. Sydney got out of her car. She walked to the door. She tried the doorknob. It opened. There was only a table in the house. She could see the envelope lying on the table from the moonlight shining through the window. She grabbed it. She opened it and pulled a note out. It read:

“My dear Sydney, if you are reading this letter, then you know I am dead. Do not fret my love. You are well taken care of. No harm will come to you. Everything will continue as usual. You now have inherited my fortune. You must continue my legacy, my dad and granddad’s legacy. You must be strong and do what needs to be done. Burn my little black book and start your own. There must not be a trace of the names. The names must never be revealed. There must not be a trace. Those group of people die with me. There families will eventually move and stop looking for them. We must keep our business blooming. Fresh body parts and organs are a need to the rich. Remember everything I taught you. Harvesting bodies is not easy and you must stay alert and on your toes. My contact will remain your contact. Love, you can do this. Thank you for sharing my twisted life with me. You were truly my better half. Love, Donald.”

Sydney held the letter to her chest. She must continue Donald’s legacy. Kidnapping and harvesting bodies was a very lucrative business, but it was dangerous. She was ready. Donald had taught her well. She would not fail him. She would make him proud. Sydney wiped the tears from her eyes. She walked to the back of the house. There was a door at the end of the hall. She opened it. The room was filled with 20 people: men, women, and children. She knew she must continue. She walked over to a small table sitting at the front of the room. There was a burner phone lying on the table. She picked up and started to dial. A man voice came through the phone. “How many?” Sydney said, “20” The voice said “$500,000 and 10 am. Sydney knew what that meant. The house would be cleared of all the people. There would not be a trace. Only a black bag filled with cash left in their place. Sydney walked out the door and headed to get breakfast until 10 am. She was sad. She would miss her husband, but she vowed to make him proud.

By: MJD