Strange in Skin (32 page)
Authors: Sara V. Zook
She
sure didn’t make things easier on you,” Carlin hissed.
I clenched my jaw together and felt my fists tighten into little balls again. It was as if she could
always start a fire of fury within me and then continuously dowse it in gasoline as more words spilled
out of her polluted mouth.
dark evil that can creep up on you if you let it. What’s ahead in one’s future, that’s what we should
always be looking to.”
Carlin pulled away from her sister and gave her a look as if she thought she was crazy. “Whatever
you say, sis. Tell John I said thanks for the hospitality and stuff. I already told Matthew goodbye
upstairs.”
“Anna, tell your aunt goodbye, too,” my mother instructed, turning around to look at me.
I uncurled my fists and let my arms drop to my sides. “See ya,” I quickly blurted out.
My mother gave me a disapproving look.
Carlin smirked. “Bye,
Annie
.”
Ugh! Good riddance I wanted to scream, and don’t show up for another decade or two. I watched
as my mother and aunt exchanged a few quiet words and then Carlin picked up her suitcase and
headed outside and down to her car parked along the road. I quit watching after that. I didn’t want to
give her the satisfaction of actually seeing her off. It seemed like a waste of time. I could be doing
something else of more value, like lying down on the couch and listening to the peace and silence of
her no longer being in our home. And so that had been the last I had seen of Carlin. And life went on
as it had before she had ever shown up.
The weather was turning a little warmer now, the wind dying down slightly as winter was now
thawing out into spring. The ground was still soggy from all of the freshly melted snow, but you could
sense everyone anticipating the warmer season as cabin fever had gotten the best of the people of
Seneca.
During the weekdays, I spent my time helping to manage the antique store with my mother. I really
had dived into things there. I believed I had a good handle on knowing all aspects of the business.
Antiques still weren’t a passion of mine, but I knew a lot about them, what was valuable, what was
junk. Sammie still helped out. She had recently gotten engaged and had asked me to be one of her
bridesmaids. I happily accepted. The girl still annoyed me to death, but we did talk often, nothing of
too much significance, but I had never been in a wedding before, and so I was a little excited about it.
It wasn’t for a few more months, but that’s all Sammie talked about. Her engagement wasn’t even to
the two guys she had dated at the same time before. It was to a new guy, someone she had barely
dated a month before jumping the gun and getting herself a fiancé. She had met him while in a bowling
league downtown. He was at least ten years older than her or more, but she seemed thrilled, more
about the wedding than the man was my suspicion.
I never told Sammie about Emry. No one ever asked me about him. Maybe no one knew, or if they
did, they had been keeping it to themselves. I no longer knew anything about him. I had received no
more letters from him. I had no idea if he was even still at Seneca County Prison or not. Emry Logan
was an unmentionable name. It was as if he vanished into thin air, a ghost. He was dead to all of us
now. Sometimes the thought of him fluttered into my mind, but not as often, and I was usually able to
get rid of it more quickly and not allow it to control me as it had in the past.
Buck wasn’t really around all that much anymore either. I guess we had had our little falling out.
That was just fine with me. His personality and mine clashed. I would rather we not interfere with
each other’s lives. We brought out the worst in each other. No one needed that type of negative energy
around to bring them down. And so it was as it was. John and Helene James had their family back
together, miraculously so, and it seemed that those few months of darkness in our lives had just been a
mere bump in the road. Now it was back to smooth sailing for all of us.
On the weekends, I would indulge in Bible study groups and church organizations. I was always
helping with something, becoming involved and keeping myself occupied. I needed to be around
people, put myself out there a little more and help those who needed it. I hadn’t really done that
before as much as I should have. I couldn’t say I was really making any new friends. I was mostly
dealing with people I had known since I was a little girl and some missionaries would come in for a
few days and leave again. Seneca had sucked me in once more, but this time, I was making myself be
content with what was to be of my life. I belonged here with my family in Ohio. Only dreamers
believed they would ever end up in such a place as Evadere. It had been a once-in-a-lifetime
opportunity, and I embraced that fact. I would be thankful for having gotten out of Seneca just that
once. I had actually been in a completely different world and no one would ever know. It made me
chuckle just thinking about the irony of that fact. The one remarkable thing that had ever happened to
me, I would never be able to tell. Who would believe me even if I tried?
Sundays I tried to fill myself with as much hope as possible from my father’s sermons. He hadn’t
been in as much contact with Mrs. Anderson anymore, and he seemed happier himself these days.
One Sunday in particular, I was feeling inspired at the end of one of his sermons on using our
talents to go out into the world and teach others about Jesus, to embrace those talents and put them to
use within the community and church. Mostly all of the people had filed out of the building. Only a
few stragglers were left chatting to one another as my father stood in the open doorway of the front of
the church, the sunlight pouring in. I was just debating in my mind what my true talents were when I
caught sight of someone out of the corner of my eye. I immediately stood very still and strained my
eyes as particles of sun burned brightly into them as I struggled to see who it was. They had
approached my father rather quickly and had been dressed in ordinary every day clothes. Our church
was big into dressing up on Sundays. It wasn’t like it was mandatory, but it wouldn’t surprise me if
some of our members gave someone a dirty look who came strolling into the building in jeans and a
T-shirt. That was considered disrespectful.
I darted around the pew I had been sitting in and to the far corner where I could shade my eyes a
little and get a better look. I ducked down using another pew as a shield. It was a middle-aged man
talking with my father. Who was it? I struggled to see again. Could it be? No. But it was. Lauren
Anderson, Mrs. Anderson’s son was standing there chit-chatting with my father. I had only seen him a
handful of times, but I was sure it was him. He was peculiar-looking and had the kind of creepy face
that you couldn’t forget. He had a large scar going diagonally across his face, little black beady eyes
that looked too small for his head and slicked back dark hair and a complexion so white, you’d think
he was a vampire at first glance. I focused my attention on the two of them. It didn’t look like chitchatting at all. It looked odd and suspicious.
After watching them for several moments, it was clear that Lauren was upset about something, and
he was quietly telling my father all the details of his sudden anxiety. I watched my father look around
in the church hesitantly. There were still some people talking amongst themselves, not noticing my
father or the man standing beside him as they were too engulfed in their own conversation. My father
held up one finger to Lauren motioning for him to wait. He walked over and took his coat from the
coat hanger a few feet away and then quickly exited the church with Lauren Anderson.
I stood from the pew I had been ducking behind, staring at the open, empty doorway. Without even
thinking about what I was doing, I was practically running out to the parking lot toward my car. I had
driven myself and Matthew to church separately today from my parents as they had had an early
meeting to attend. I quickly scanned the almost deserted lot as I shielded my eyes from the brightness
of the sun with my hand. There was no movement anywhere. Had my father and Lauren already gone?
I jerked open my car door and hurried to start the engine. I found myself driving down the road
headed toward Mrs. Anderson’s house.
I felt the same familiar obsession I had once had for Emry Logan come roaring back full force
within me as if it had never really gone away. The sick, stalker-like fixation engulfed me, making my
foot press down harder on the accelerator. Adrenaline rushed through me, and I suddenly felt as if I
had come alive once again.
I pressed the brake. My tires squealed as the vehicle lurched to a stop in the middle of the road.
What was I doing? This sudden impulse I had had was absurd. Why on earth was I trying to figure out
where my father and Lauren Anderson had gone? Why should I even care? Emry Logan didn’t love
me, and I didn’t love him. I had thought this whole foolish thing was over and done with. I had found
my old, true self and had promised myself that I wasn’t going to behave in that manner ever again. I
felt my body sink down a little in my seat so that I could no longer see the road in front of me. After
Buck had told me all of those terrible things contained in Emry’s police record, I had felt very weak
and frail. Even so, even on my worst days, deep down I knew that I was growing stronger little by
little. Even in the depths of the pit I had dug myself into as I lay in my bedroom sulking and refusing to
eat, even through all the emotional turmoil, I had somehow convinced myself to believe that that
experience had been formed purely to serve as a lesson and from that, I had grown as a person. Hours
ago I had felt strong, strong enough to go on living my life as a normal human being, as the Anna
James that everyone in Seneca had familiarized themselves with. But now what? Now I felt even
stronger with this surge running through my veins, with a sense of adventure and passion that drove
me to even get in my car and attempt to follow my father. What was happening to me here? I couldn’t
allow this to start all over again. But then, I felt the sudden epiphany become clearer still. I had
convinced everyone, including myself, that I was over him. I had convinced myself that the calm,
kind-natured Anna James was the real me, but that person was merely an illusion. Being her had
helped me to overcome the emotional grief that felt like it had been swallowing me whole. I had
brought the numbness back to life by being
her
.
I became startled as a horn from a truck blasted my eardrums as I had been blocking the road. I
sighed and sat straight up quickly to get the car off of the road. I let the truck behind me pass and then
started driving again, only slower this time. I tried to clear my mind and push Emry out of my
thoughts. I tried to think of anything except those luscious lips and the way they had briefly touched
mine in that single kiss of passion, his gentle blue eyes and the way I loved his dusty brown hair and
the way it fell into them. My heart thumped in my chest, feeling heavy and sad at the same time. The
sensation of loneliness lurked up from behind me, followed by the familiar longing, a desire to be
near Emry Logan in any way I could, even if it meant not literally being with him but even by being
consumed with something as small as following Lauren Anderson to try to unveil something to grasp
onto. Just by doing that, I would be able to feel a little piece of Emry, and that would suffice the
yearning. For now.
again, I realized where I was. I was in front of Mrs. Anderson’s driveway.
After deciding that it was probably safer to pull my car into the next lane down from her driveway
where I had parked the same night as that infamous field ritual I had stumbled upon this past winter, I
stepped out into the warmth of the early afternoon sunlight and reached back in my car for a pair of
sunglasses before heading through the patch of woods that would run right into the side of the
driveway. I was very careful with each step that I took. I was wearing a long dress and shoes that had
a medium-sized heel on them which sunk into the soft clay beneath my feet. The grass was just
beginning to turn green which helped to make this area not seem as depressing or frightening as it
once had to me before.
Mrs. Anderson’s house came into full view in the clearing past the woods. I tromped down the
slight curve of the driveway and squinted my eyes through the sunglasses to see if anyone was around.
The house looked still and peaceful. There were no cars parked out front. I walked freely in front of
the house and went around the corner to see if anyone had parked out back. Empty. No one was here.
I took a few steps back and peered upwards at the house before me. What was I going to do now
without anyone to follow? I went around to the backside of the house and again just stared at it. It
seemed like the house was calling to me, wanting me to go in and check things out. It had to be
somewhat interesting with someone like the witchy Mrs. Anderson living there. I was curious, too
curious perhaps. The motion of a swaying white curtain caught my eye as the warm breeze blew in
through an open window. A smile crossed my lips as soon as I saw it. Before I even gave myself a
chance to think things through, I was already standing right before the open window, peering in at the
contents of the house. I had to do this. I had nothing of Emry to hold onto.
The window was slightly above my head. I had to use what upper strength I had to pull upwards
and then brace myself to hold steady for a moment while I looked in to see if there were any signs of
movement or life inside the house. I listened for a moment. All was quiet and peaceful from within.
There was a little wooden chest sitting directly in front of the window with a few porcelain birds
placed on top of it. I tried to slide my body in through the window very gracefully and carefully so as
not to break anything. When I finally stood up in Mrs. Anderson’s house, my feet on the worn circular
rug in the middle of the floor, I put my hands on my hips in satisfaction that I had accomplished getting
in here so easily and without breaking anything as well.
