The Grasp of Nighttide (3 page)

As usual, Alice took great interest in listening about school. That always caught her fascination, as though she had never been to one; but of course she had. How else would she know how to read and write? Her parents had certainly sent her to school; all kids are sent to school. She had been a kid like Howard once. She tried to imagine how she might have looked at seven years of age. Perhaps she had been a bubbly girl in a frock, with her hair down to the shoulders and below her fringe, a set of innocent yet happy eyes. She wasn’t very good at imagining faces, so she ended up picturing a cute girl’s face from a daycare advertising board ahead and dropped the thought.

When they reached the department store, Howard tugged her to come inside. She didn’t want to, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Hi,” Ron greeted Alice the moment she stepped in. Ron was Howard’s cousin, a couple of years older than her. This was their family store. 

“Help me grab some stuff, Howie,” Alice pretended she didn’t hear him and walked towards the aisles. She never liked to come here; she had an alternative store to go to, although she passed this way more often. It was because of Ron−he would never back down from hitting on her and was really irritating. But now that she was here, it wouldn’t hurt to pick up some groceries. Ron was currently busy with the line of customers at the counter. Still, he would glance at her every few seconds; he hadn’t changed at all. He was behaving the same all right, but somehow, he looked different. She decided it was not her business to get to the bottom of it. She didn’t need anything more than some carrots and eggs. On the way to the counter, she added some apples to her basket. As usual, she didn’t try to linger around anything other than her ‘needs’ list. 

“Alice got all she needs,” Howard proudly declared to Ron at the counter.

”Take your wagon around the back and stack those boxes,” Ron said, glaring at Howard. 

The little red wagon trailed away, leaving Alice and Ron in silence. It was obvious that Ron would say something awkward to her after the only other customer there left empty handed.

He clicked away, entering the items on his machine. His face was composed; his lips pressed together, brows furrowed. He was acting like a serious stranger. 

“$6.35” he said, looking up at her. 

Alice pulled out the bills from her pocket and separated them from the receipts that held her song. She was always scared that some thief would snatch away her purse and decided her pockets were safer no matter how much (or how little) money she had. She counted and recounted. She was two dollars short. She should have counted the money ahead of time, then she wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of Ron. 

When she looked up to face him, he seemed aware of Alice’s situation. 

“It’s okay, you can pay me the rest later,” he stated. 

“Tomorrow,” she assured him handing over what money she had. 

“Or how ‘bout I ignore the rest if you have dinner with me tonight?” 

“I have told you before. I have a boyfriend.” 

He raked his fingers through his shoulder length hair and a black snake tattoo showed on his arm. She’d never seen it before. That was what was different. He was wearing a T-shirt instead of his usual full-sleeve formal attire; it suited him much better, she thought. Alice was about to compliment him, but Ron spoke a moment too soon. “I’ve never seen you with any guy, or anyone else for that matter.” 

Alice was furious and it reflected on her face. Ron clearly implied that the boyfriend tag was a fake. It was perhaps a general thought that when a person is sick and lonely they may start imagining people. But she wasn’t crazy to imagine having a boyfriend. Although alone, she wasn’t ready to accept that sort of thinking from others. 

“Okay,” he surrendered, partly worried of Alice’s anger. “Just once - for coffee. Please?” 

“Once?” Alice asked. 

“I won’t force you after that to spend any more time with me,
 again
,” he promised. 

“Tomorrow. When I am on the way back from my walk, I’ll stop by here.” 

He smirked in triumph, “Here you go, and take this umbrella in case it rains again.” 

“I don’t need it,” she retorted. 

“Well it doesn’t have to be for you. It’s uh… it’s for the groceries.” 

Yeah, right. Liar, 
Alice thought, feigning a smile as she took it from him. “Bye Howie,” she hooted towards the back of the store. 

“See ya around,” came the reply in an instant.

***** 

It wasn’t long before she entered her neighborhood. Her quick strides led her home in almost half the time it usually took to walk this far. It was a real frustrating day and nothing was better than to get home. 

All the houses facing the street were neatly aligned with the each other. The colors complemented each other with different shades of brown. Alice walked and walked, but none of them was where she lived. As cruel as it seemed, she was left out even in this aspect. After passing exactly sixteen, she turned to take the path to the right. 

“Hey Alice.” An all-too-familiar voice made her frustration worse. Alice turned to see her neighbor, Anna Rolek. Anna ran from her doorstep to just outside her gate and stopped a few feet short of Alice to catch her breath. This went on for about a minute. 

She just ran for about fifteen feet, 
Alice rolled her eyes. 

Anna then lifted her left hand and kept it on the mailbox. Alice’s gaze caught a glittery object on her wrist; a watch, a very expensive-looking one. 

“It’s my boyfriend’s birthday,” Anna declared after taking a final long breath. 

Who cares, 
Alice thought as she took another look at the watch. She most probably wanted to show it off in front of her. 
Who cares,
 Alice concluded her thoughts. 

Of all the houses around, Anna’s was the nearest one to Alice’s. She was the one in the area who spoke to Alice the most, even though Alice did not like her very much and rather preferred the 'not-so-nosy' younger sister, Bell. But it couldn't be denied that Anna was truly beautiful: her lips were perfect, and her eyes had the sensational blue-grey color that Alice adored the most. Her oval face was perfect, as was her clear skin. Despite her average height, she would make an attractive model. There was no need for a special runway for this damsel-she could showcase herself just about anywhere. She was in a black parka that outlined her slim, fit body, still pretending that she needed the support of the mailbox to be able to stand. 

“I was wondering if you have a bar of dark chocolate. I’ve baked a cake,” she continued. “I have to make icing and lots of other things and my car isn’t…” 

“No, I don’t.” Alice snapped. 

By Anna’s expression it was clear that she was not the least bit affected by Alice’s response. She pushed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear with her left hand. The white dial shone with a crystal outline. The hands pointing to 4 and 12 seemed crystal too. “I should dash to the store then, bye.” 

Without another word, she ran past Alice. The store was a five minute bolt from there and Alice could only imagine her reaching the store. It would take several minutes before Anna was going to be able to speak. If so, it would not have made a difference even if she had walked. 

Totally exhausted now, Alice stood at the mouth of the dark narrow road which was a diversion from the main street. A number of closely knit pine trees grew on either side and they silently welcomed her as always. With a sigh, Alice started down the well-known road that would lead her home, the road that led only to one isolated home. 

The road stretched for about a hundred and twenty feet, then curved and went on for a few more feet before meeting the tiled driveway. The quite sizeable property held a house with a garage. Swings occupied a spot in the corner and a white fence marked the horseshoe shaped boundary. The whole scenario was reminiscent of a Norman Rockwell painting. 

Beyond the fence began the boundary of the research area, The Grelt Nature Conservation Research Area (GNCRA). It had recently been shut down, allegedly due to illegal practices. The boundary ran from the start of the narrow road on either side of the house and continued for many yards beyond the house. Years ago, the neighboring land had been purchased for construction purposes, but the owner of this plot stood her ground to keep the property. 

The house and garage stood apart from each other. The four-car garage seemed to take pride by being clearly noticeable beside the house though it was rendered useless. Alice would sometimes open it−though she had no car−just to look at the red Vespa it housed. A means of transport that would have helped her make her way around town easier. She had found the key on the seat which had initials ‘R.W’ on it. As good as it appeared to be, the Vespa would not budge. Alice hesitated to get it fixed, as it did not belong to her, but wished it would start someday. The riding lawnmower that had appeared to be in bad condition at first−unlike the Vespa−functioned perfectly, at least well enough to help Alice work on the grass around the house. 

To the right of the garage stood the house. The front, like most of the homes there, had an inverted-V sloping roof. A light-brown colored door and window frames of the same color stood against the off-white walls. What gave a strange feeling was the tall cylindrical tower−the color of bricks−attached to it. Alice had first called it a turret, but Anna was quick to correct her that it was a tower because it did not vertically project out of the house, rather it started from the ground. Tiny rectangular windows ran up its side with a big one at the top. Standing on her toes, Alice could take a peek into one of these windows. The sight of a dark dusty stairwell reflected a bad past. 

A tall tree that stood in front of the house- a great drawback, for it blotted out most of the light entering the house on one side. At least that was the only tree that grew within the fence, or else Alice would have to burn electricity through the day too and shell out extra bucks on the light bill.

Alice kicked off her muddy pink shoes while unlocking the door. She darted straight to the laptop in her room, not bothering to put down the bag of groceries or the umbrella. For some time, the thought of the song had gone into hiding again, and then resurfaced. She 
had
 to know that song. 

“Tell me, Google, for heaven’s sake,” Alice mumbled, typing the first two lines. When that didn’t work, she put in all six lines hoping for a match. 

In vain, she sat there staring at the screen. It was as though the song never existed. But Alice heard it; there was no doubt in her mind. Frustrated and totally exhausted, today had been unlike any other day. The only clue she had was the song, and now it appeared to be a dead end. 

She dried her hair and changed into a dry pair of jogging pants and a pale green shirt. She got the fireplace in the living room going. Finding her wool shawl draped over the arm of the couch, she threw it over her shoulders and sat close to the fire, feeling its warmth on her face and hands. The heater was not running to its full potential these days, and with temperatures falling, Alice was sure to be sleeping on the couch in front of the fireplace in about a week. 
The only thing needed now to complete this cozy atmosphere was a hot cup of coffee
, she thought. 

This wasn’t Alice’s home, but it was where she woke up five months ago... 

She had woken up on the bed early that bright morning. Her head was heavy, probably from the effects of a drug. But the surroundings weren't the same as when she had first woken up. Her memory went back to the first time she woke up, at the hospital. She could remember nurses and the doctor examining her there. Alice remained blank through all of it. The first sign of trouble came when she was asked, "Your mom is outside. Do you want to see her?”

“Mom?" she didn't know what to make of it. "Mom?" 
Whose mom? Her own? Who was her mom? 
Then realization struck. "Who am I?"

The next time she had woken up, also in the hospital ward, she tried to think as she was told but could come up with nothing. Later still, she semiconsciously heard a woman asking the doctor to discharge her. It seemed like he was confused. "I think we must keep her under observation for another day or two. She must have her memory back; retrograde amnesia is very rare, especially in head injuries and given that she wasn't even severely injured. I need to see the scans. There could be something that may come up. And uh, do you think she could be... I don't know, faking this? I mean, to get away from troubles... family troubles, maybe?" 

Next, Alice woke up to pure darkness. She was blindfolded. "Let me go!" Alice ordered.

"Do you know what your name is?" a female voice asked.

"No."

"Don't you even recognize my voice anymore?" The voice came again, edged with sadness this time.

"No. I don't." Then she was stung by a needle and fell unconscious again. 

In the morning when she woke, she was here at this house−struggling with dizziness. It didn’t take long to figuring out that she was abandoned, especially with packed luggage and a letter from her mom clearly stating so. She tried recalling the doctor's or any of the nurses’ faces at least, but she couldn't. Names she hadn't asked. Neither did she remember reading the hospital's name nor learn what state it was in. She had not seen her mom. Alice tried searching for accidents on the internet, but she didn't know what day her supposed accident had taken place. How many days had gone by? She didn't know that, either. A stroll around the city made her realize that she was new there and no one knew her. At times, she regretted that day−the trauma she faced, the frustration, the tears, the pounding head, the confusion, the terror−yet at the same time was equally grateful for not having been left on the street. Alice waited a month, expecting the owners to show up. Even if she somehow was on a lease, there had to be a person who would come to collect money and give her some details. But no one came, adding to her frustration. 

Later on, she learned from Anna that the owner, Mary, and her daughter Irin had left the country years ago. Alice pretended to have known this, to not arouse suspicion. Out of curiosity, Alice casually mentioned that she really didn’t know the reason they had left. Anna was only too eager to relate what had happened. 

Mary had built the house according to her and her daughters’ wishes. Her second child, Lily, wanted a tower built for her room; a tall tower made for a princess and her wish was fulfilled. Lily was very happy. She would go to Anna with stories of how she felt like she lived in a castle and she was the Princess of the Kingdom. A week before her death, Lily suddenly changed. Once the talkative, bubbly girl, she had recoiled inside a shell after her best friend’s death, saying the most unusual things. Otherwise, she spoke very little. Lily stayed in her room most of the time, crying, and it pained Mary to watch her daughter suffer in this manner. Mary tried her best to comfort the child, to no avail. She told Anna’s mother, Halley, that she was planning on taking Lily to a counselor the next day. However, on that unfortunate night, Lily jumped out the tower window. A month later, Lily’s younger sister Kate had gone up to Lily’s room and fell out the very same window. The next day, when Mary’s ex-husband flew in again for his other daughter’s funeral, he got back together with his family and took them with him to London. The tower room was locked from that day forward. Although Alice had checked it several times, the thought that it remained locked comforted her. The house itself had been locked up for years, but an old man lived in the house for a short period a few months ago. The man, Ode Carl, was said to have left because he found the place too inconvenient and 
depressing. 
Though a family might enjoy the benefits – the spaciousness, a place for kids to play, and plenty of privacy, 
depressing
 was the exact same word Alice would use to describe this place for a person living alone. 

Alice spent almost eighteen hours a day in the house. The entrance opened to a big hall whose carpeted floor stretched to the dining area and open kitchen at its side. On the other side of the living room, a door opened to a passage that had three doors opposite to it. Two of the doors led to rooms and the other one to the locked tower wing. The passage was void of light from the two-pane window because of the lone tree outside. The two rooms were quite empty except for a single bed, stripped of its bed sheets, in one, and a rocking chair by the dust-clouded window in another. Alice had chosen to occupy the last room from the two-pane window, leaving an empty room between her and the tower room. She chose this room intentionally, separating herself from the tower; the tower, with its dreadful stories, had worried her ever since she had arrived. It was also partly because that room had a bigger bathroom with a nicer sink, and as a plus already had a bed, which meant she didn’t have to move anything around. 

If not for the couch, bed, heater, table, fridge, and stove left behind, the house would have been totally empty. All that Alice could manage to buy was an old second hand phone and a load of curtains from a yard sale, a bedspread and pillow, and a bit of crockery for the house. Not just a bit, actually, she had bought more than what was required; spending a huge portion of the money she started out with. But there was neither another soul living there, nor did she ever invite anyone in. Sometimes Alice felt so lonely that she would set the table with plates and glasses, pretending to have company with imaginary people for a while, laughing and talking as she took turns eating a bit from each plate. When she was done, she would fall to the floor and cry. These days she would do it more frequently. Though she did not want to accept it, she knew inside she was going crazy.

What loneliness can do to the soul cannot be judged without having experienced it. Every word is absorbed by walls, every tear penetrates through the floor without any value, and your smile is trapped in the mirror, waiting for a companion to retrieve it. 

She shook her head and looked around; there was not much work to be done with the interior. Thanks to grandpa Ode for that. The combination of different shades of purple and white paint throughout the house gave a warm feeling, but the feeling was cut short by the red and yellow striped curtains shading each window. The living room had a grand look to it with its modern-looking brick fireplace. The dining area held a beautifully handcrafted burled-wood table for eight. A chandelier with eight hand-blown globes hung gracefully above. Alice could transform this home into a spectacular place; unfortunately she did not have the means to do so. 

As Alice moved to the kitchen, she ran her hand along the wall, wondering if her real home was like this. She passed the dining space and entered the kitchen overlooking it. The stainless steel fridge was the highlight of the room-huge and shiny. It tempted Alice to open it wide. Only a can of milk lay inside. 

Great! Even the can would be cursing me for its loneliness, 
she thought, pouring it into the pan. She put it back, along with the items from the store.

You were, you are, you shall always be... My love, for eternity…
 

Suddenly, Alice became aware of a sound of some sort; definitely not some kind of music from the song, it sounded like a buzzer, like a doorbell. 

The doorbell? 
Alice thought. 

Oddly enough, Alice didn’t even know how the doorbell sounded; there had not been any use of it. 
That must be it, 
she thought. She crossed her fingers. The words 
mom, bro, sis, friend, love 
echoed in her mind as she walked lightly on her feet to the door without even realizing it. She knew whoever it was, she would be speechless in front of them. 

She pushed open the door, expecting a person or even two, but what came into sight was a lot more familiar to her−empty air. She moved forward with the hope that someone would spring up and surprise her, until a box hit Alice’s foot. It appeared to be a small gift box wrapped in red paper with a bow on it. Alice eyed it as if she had seen a bomb at her feet. Her hands trembled as she lifted it; the tag read- 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY! 

My Birthday? 
Alice pondered. 

“Hello,” Alice moved forward along the driveway, sure to spot the person who left it. With the tree rustling, Alice couldn’t even hear herself well enough. “Hello,” she yelled. 

The wind had blown away her excitement, her hope, leaving her with the only thing she had to live with−herself. 

She threw the gift. It almost sailed along in the wind before it caught itself in the picket fence. In tears, Alice fell, with no one to see how she was feeling. She could’ve dealt with her memory loss if only she knew all about herself and what had happened to her. Or at least if there was some family or friends she could turn to. It was so unfair that she was so lonely. It was overwhelming, and she was having difficulties adjusting. She was constantly scared for no real reason; scared to get to know people, scared of the future. There wasn’t a single person she felt she could trust, with whom she could share her worries, to take some of the burden off her chest, not one person who would truly care about her, despite the time or day, even if that care was the size of a pea.