Vestige (5 page)

Micah charged toward the ladder of the tree house, but by the time he reached the first rung, Grimshaw and his dad were gone. He fell back onto the cold wood of the tree house floor. The dog sat down beside him. Micah peered into the dog’s eyes and thought for a moment that it looked worried.

Micah sat up. The dog was gone, and he was alone. The sun filtered through the reddish-brown leaves of the oak tree. A cardinal perched above him made an annoying peeping sound. That thing sure made a lot of noise for something so small. He rubbed his eyes, relieved that it was only another dream.

He climbed back into his bedroom and checked the time—almost 7:00. “Shit! I’m gonna be late.” He had to hurry if he wanted to meet his friends at the park. Not only did he want to see Jess, but he also wanted to make sure that Dustin didn’t have any more alone time with her.

He dressed quickly, but before he left, he had to check on his dad. Maybe the old man would be able to string a sentence together this morning. Better yet, maybe his mom was back. After all, he would like to know whether Owen was missing or not. Maybe he could even help look for his brother. So, instead of leaving out of his window, Micah went through the house.

He checked his parent’s room first, but the bed was empty. Certain that his dad had passed out on the couch, he headed downstairs and rounded the corner into the living room.

Micah froze. Even though he could hear his heart pounding, he felt detached from his own body.

Where was his dad and what happened to the wall?

He studied the dark-red stains splattered across the wall, and the puddle of goo on the back of the couch. Was that blood? Micah stepped towards the couch. He slid his index finger through the goo. The cold stickiness turned his stomach. He gagged a couple of times but didn’t throw up. Micah pulled his finger back and rubbed the residue off on the arm of the couch.

The empty bottle of whiskey lay on the floor. Micah kicked it. It slid across the room, bounced off the wall, and spun in a circle.

“Dad! Where are you Dad? Dad…mom…Owen? Somebody answer me!” Micah screamed as loud as he could, but no one answered. He thought about the dream, and how his dad said he had to go. He thought about the stranger, Mr. Grimshaw, and he thought about the dog. They were both there just like his first dream.

“He belongs with me now.” What did Grimshaw mean by that? And what job was Micah supposed to do? And was his mom really gone too? He had more questions than he had answers. All he knew for sure was that he was alone, everyone else…gone.

Micah ran from the nightmare and headed to the park. On his way, he tried to talk himself down. It had to be a dream because his dad would never do something like that. How about all the crazy things he said…none of it made sense…just like a dream. Dreams never make sense, especially once you’re awake. But it seemed so real.…. Micah looked at his index finger, the one he stuck in the goo, and rubbed his thumb against it. Yes…a dream…. It was all just a dream.

By the time he reached his friends, his hands had stopped shaking.

“Dude...you’re late,” Dustin said.

“You okay? You don’t look so good,” asked Cody.

“Fine. I’m fine. I ran out of cigarettes…that’s all.”

“Here, take one of mine,” said Cody.

“Thanks.”

Amber sat on a swing and twisted back and forth.

“Hey, Amber, where’s Jess?” Micah asked.

“You need to check your phone, Micah. She’s been texting you all night. Her parents are all over her. She can’t leave the house,” Amber replied.

Micah reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone.

20 Missed Messages

Jess

“Oops. I’ll text her back now,” Micah said.

“Don’t bother. I haven’t heard from her since 3:00 a.m. I bet her parents took her phone away,” Amber said.

“Her parents are okay?” asked Micah.

“Why wouldn’t they be?” replied Amber.

“I don’t know.” Micah shrugged.

“I saw her last night.” Dustin looked at Micah and smirked.

Cody looked as if he was trying not to explode with laughter. Amber stopped twisting her swing.

“You’re such an ass, Dustin. Why can’t you find your own girlfriend?” Micah said.

“Jess needed a little comforting, and she couldn’t count on you. So I took care of her,” Dustin said.

Micah threw his cigarette and advanced on Dustin.

Dustin puffed his chest out and hit it with the palms of his hands. “You want to go, asswipe?”

With that, Micah bent over and plowed his shoulder into Dustin’s gut, forcing him to the ground. Micah tried to pin Dustin, but Dustin pushed Micah off, rolled over, and knelt on Micah’s chest. Dustin pulled his fist back, ready to slam it into Micah’s face when Cody grabbed his arm.

“Come on guys. You do realize that you’re fighting over Jess,” Cody said.

“Hey...” Amber whined.

Dustin listened to Cody and reluctantly gave up his attack position. Both boys climbed to their feet.

Micah brushed the wood chips off his pants. “Dick,” he muttered under his breath.

“What’s that? You want me to bone your girlfriend because you’re too much of a pussy to do it yourself?” Dustin said.

Micah charged Dustin again, but this time, Cody grabbed Micah before he could get to him.

“Come on, Micah. He’s just screwing with you. Calm down,” Cody said.

Micah’s chest heaved in an out as he glared at Dustin. Micah felt as if he were teetering on the edge of sanity. He didn’t need Dustin’s shit right now.

“Micah, why did you ask about Jess’s parents?” Amber asked.

Micah paused before he answered her question. He wanted to find out what was going on, but he didn’t want to talk about his family situation. “I don’t know...I guess I’ve heard that other people are missing. You know, not just kids and dogs.”

“My asshole father is still here. Too bad he didn’t disappear,” Cody said.

“My dad’s missing,” Dustin muttered.

“What about your mom?” Amber asked as she jumped down from the swing. “My mom has been gone since last night. She left with her bible and rosary. I just figured she spent the night in church, praying for those missing kids. I wonder if she’s still there.”

“My mom is still here,” answered Dustin.

“What about your parents, Micah?” Cody asked.

Micah turned away from his friends before he answered. “They’re gone and so is my brother.”

“I’m going to the church to see if my mom is still there. Who’s coming with me?” asked Amber.

“Don’t look at me. I might burst into flames when I walk through the doors,” Cody joked.

“Yeah, I’ll take a pass too,” Dustin said.

“Micah?” Amber asked.

When Micah looked into Amber’s eyes, he recognized her panic. Did his eyes look the same? “Sure, might as well, I have no place else to go.”

Chapter Six

Clarke felt free as she glided through the air, her mind clear and unburdened. The sun warmed her cheeks, and the air provided little resistance. She had forgotten how much she enjoyed the swings. When Clarke was a little girl, her dad would bring her to this park every Saturday. He would stand behind her and push her back and forth without a single complaint. As she soared, she pretended to be a bird flying up to the sun. That was a long time ago.

Now, she didn’t need her father’s help. She had the strength to do it herself. She pumped her legs back and forth, and the swing climbed higher and higher. A whooshing sound filled her ears. On her way up, she squinted her eyes against the blinding sun. On her way down, she opened them wide, taking in the whole park. The steel of the swing’s chains felt cool in the palm of her hands. She leaned back farther so that she could swing even higher. She imagined touching the clouds.

When Clarke first noticed the woman at the far end of the playground, she tried to ignore her. But every time Clarke looked, the woman was a few steps closer until she stood in front of the swing.

She gazed at Clarke and smiled. “Hello, my sweet girl.”

Clarke slowed herself by dragging her feet across the ground. When the swing came to a stop, Clarke studied the woman. She was petite maybe even smaller than Clarke was. She had short, spiky red hair and tiny features. Her dark eyes and mischievous smile made Clarke think of a pixie or a fairy. Clarke knew her voice and recognized her eyes but couldn’t place her.

“Don’t tell me that you don’t remember me. I’ve only been gone for a few years,” said the woman.

“Mom?” Last time Clarke saw her mother, she looked different, nothing like this woman looked. Clarke remembered her mom as unhappy, run-down, old. This woman looked vibrant, put-together, young.

At first, Clarke swelled with excitement and relief. Her mother was back. She wanted to jump off the swing and throw her arms around the most important woman in her life. But within less than a millisecond, Clarke’s joy turned back into bitterness. She remembered how she wanted to feel about her mother. She remembered her anger. She remembered her pain.

“Oh honey, don’t be angry with me. Come over here and give me a hug.” The woman opened her arms, inviting Clarke in.

Clarke stood and took a single step towards her mother but stopped. A bubble of hatred surrounded Clarke, keeping her a safe distance from the world. No one would penetrate it, not even the woman instrumental in creating it.

Clarke tried to recall the speech she had prepared for this moment, the speech where she tells her mother exactly what she thinks of her, but she couldn’t do it. Her brain fogged with confusion. Something was wrong. Why did her mother look so different, so young? Why was she here? And why now?

“I know that your prayers have been answered,” said her mother.

“How do you know what I pray? You don’t know me.” Clarke crossed her arms.

“Of course I know you. You’re just like me. We’re the same person with the same troubles.”

“I’m nothing like you! You left, and I stayed. Not only did you abandon your sick husband, but you also left your fourteen-year-old daughter alone to take care of him.”

Clarke’s mother dropped her arms to her side but didn’t look discouraged. “I couldn’t watch him deteriorate into a vegetable. It was too hard for me.”

“But it was easy for me? I was only fourteen. He needed you...I needed you.”

“Well, I’m sorry about that. But sweetie, I’m here now.”

“He’s gone now, and I don’t need you anymore.”

“Clarke, I can only imagine how hard the last three years must have been for you.” Her mother’s words dripped with syrupy sweetness. “But you need to know that it’s over. You don’t have to worry about your dad anymore. He’s in a better place.”

“Are you saying that he’s dead? How can he be dead?” Clarke’s eyes filled with tears. “I hate you!”

“You don’t mean that.” Her mother twisted her lips downwards into a mock frown.

“Why are you here?” Clarke wiped her cheeks. She didn’t want her mother to see her cry.

“Things are changing, honey. I want you to be with me. I want you to come out on top when all this is over.”

“I don’t understand. When what’s over?”

“Clarke, I want you to meet Mr. Daniel Grimshaw.” Clarke’s mother extended her hand towards the swings as if she were a game show hostess announcing the next prize.

Clarke turned in the direction her mother pointed. A well-dressed man stood behind her. He was tall with square shoulders and a lean frame. His dark eyes matched his raven hair, his face rigid and forbidden. Even though Clarke found Mr. Grimshaw attractive, something about him wasn’t right. He was too perfect. His complexion was flawless, not a mark or blemish on his face. He had just the right amount of stubble—enough to make him look cool but not enough to make him look like a slob. His dark purple tie was the perfect companion for his olive-colored suit, the knot slightly loosened.

“It’s nice to meet you Clarke. I feel as if I already know you.” Grimshaw walked towards her. “You are as beautiful as your mother promised you’d be.”

As Grimshaw lifted his hand to touch Clarke, the smell of sandalwood surrounded her. He stroked her long hair several times before his hand came to rest on the back of her neck. She felt a warm wave of energy travel from her head down to her toes. Her anger trickled away, replaced by a relaxed sense of well-being.

He pulled her close to him and brushed his lips against her neck. Goose bumps covered her arms as everything around her fell away. They were no longer in the park. Her mother faded as the couple plunged into darkness. Grimshaw caressed her cheek with his other hand. Clarke knew this was wrong, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t stop the stranger.

He raised his lips to her ear and whispered, “Your troubles are over. I will take care of you.”

Clarke felt as if she were melting.

“Clarke, run!” The sound of her father’s voice broke the stranger’s spell.

Terror fired through every nerve ending in her body. She pushed away from him and looked around for her dad.
“Dad, where are you? I can’t see you.”

“You can’t go with him. You belong with me. Your mother agrees,” said Grimshaw.

His words had lost their magic. Every muscle in her body wanted to move. But to where? She stood in complete darkness: her, Grimshaw, and nothing.

“You can’t run from me,” said Grimshaw.

Clarke opened her eyes. Her pajamas were soaked with sweat. She felt sick as she sat up. When her mom first left, Clarke often dreamt about her coming home. In those early dreams, Clarke was thrilled to see her mom again. She would thank her for coming back and forgive her for leaving. Clarke would hug her mother tight, but her mother’s voice would grow faint, and her figure, translucent. Slowly, she would vanish, leaving Clarke all over again.