“Yes,” she said. “I’m still here. I will let you know first thing when I get back into town.”
He started to say something else but she ended the call.
“What was that about?” Brian asked, his eyes still pinned to the road.
She didn’t answer him for a long time.
It was nearly noon when they got to town and pulled into the parking lot of Hawthorne Psychiatric Facility. It was a brick building set back from the road so that it looked like an academy or maybe an old church. Except the closer you got, travelling through the front gate, down the pitted entry road, and finally walked up to the entrance, you understood it was nothing like that. It was a place where families dropped off their siblings and parents and spouses when they’d lost all hope, when their loved ones had become burdens, more like pets than family.
Meg hadn’t phoned ahead. It would have been pointless anyway. Her mother hadn’t spoken a full sentence in nearly twenty years, not since the night Meg had gotten her scar.
The flesh itched as she thought of it. She dug her nails into the skin but it didn’t seem to do any good, as if the wound knew they were home.
“Are you sure about this?” Brian asked as he cut the engine.
“Yes, I’m sure. I don’t know how I’m sure but I am. Besides, we didn’t drive ten hours for nothing.”
“And what if she won’t speak?”
She shook her head. “We can’t think like that.”
They walked through the doors and into the reception area.
The woman at front desk cleared her throat. “How may I help you?”
Meg smiled, held out her hand. “I’m here to see Gillian Foster. I’m her daughter.”
The woman’s eyes widened, perhaps because Gillian rarely got visitors anymore, perhaps because she knew about the kidnapping and the night of the scar. That made Meg somewhat of a celebrity—in addition to a horrible daughter. “I’ll have one of our aides meet you in the left hall.”
Meg led the way. It wasn’t like the movies. The place didn’t seem evil or haunted. Instead it was sterile—too sterile, like they’d cleaned the life out of everything and everyone.
The doors buzzed and opened and another woman in scrubs met them, leading them down the hall, through another set of sealed doors, down another hall, and finally to her mother’s room. Meg felt dizzy. She hadn’t remembered it being this labyrinth-like the last time she’d visited. But that had been two—or was it three—years ago and not everything in memory was true to life.
Because she hadn’t remembered seeing shadows as a girl while she’d been away with her mother, not until recently.
Not until they’d begun to chase her.
“I should let you know,” the aide said, “that your mother has been very well behaved for some time. Gillian has even begun to speak again.”
“You’re kidding.”
The woman held up a hand. “I’m serious, Ms. Foster. But don’t get too excited just yet. She’s quite delusional, often speaks under her breath, mostly rambling. But it’s a sign—a good sign. It means some part of her is willing to communicate. I’m sure she’ll be quite pleased to see you.” The woman slid her badge through a scanner and the door opened.
Her mother was facing away, looking through the barred window at the gray afternoon sky. A few birds chirped from somewhere outside and Meg thought it was a beautiful sight. Beautiful yet dismal.
“Mrs. Foster,” the woman said. “There’s someone here to see you.”
Gillian did not move an inch. She kept her eyes toward the window.
“It’s someone special, Mrs. Foster. It’s your daughter. Meg.”
Gillian’s head raised a bit, then it cocked to the side, as if she were trying to remember Meg. If she doesn’t remember, Meg thought, if she doesn’t recognize me, I think I’ll die right here and now.
After a long time her mother turned around.
The woman walked into Gillian’s room and patted her arm. “This is your daughter. I’m sure you remember her. She’s come to say hello. Would you like that, Gillian? Would you like to see her?”
Gillian did something so shocking, so out of character, Meg needed to blink a few times to make sure she hadn’t imagined it.
Her mother smiled.
The aide escorted them into a large dining hall. There was an old man in the corner of the room, seated across from a woman, probably his wife. She rocked back and forth and nodded over and over. The man said nothing, only held her hands in his and chewed on something.
From behind the food serving station, pans clattered and dishwashers ran, the kitchen staff getting ready for the dinner rush.
Other than that, they were alone, save for the orderlies on the other side of the doors, guards who waited for worst-case scenarios.
“How have you been?” Meg asked her mother. It was bullshit, small talk, but she had to start somewhere. You couldn’t open with Hi, Mom, remember me? I’m your daughter who abandoned you and now I’m seeing shadows that want to kill me.
Her mother didn’t speak, not clearly anyway. She looked at the table, fidgeted her hands, whispering something softly. From here it sounded like gibberish.
“This is my friend Brian,” Meg said, tapping him on the shoulder. “He came all the way from Pennsylvania to meet you.”
“I’ve heard nothing but lovely things, Mrs. Foster. You’ve got yourself a great daughter.”
More gibberish, words Meg could not quite make out. It bothered her somehow, like her mother was casting a spell.
“Mom, I need your help with something. I know it’s selfish of me to come here and ask that of you but it’s the truth. And I know I shouldn’t have stopped visiting but you were getting so much worse as time went on. You barely recognized me. I’m sorry. I truly am.”
“Help,” her mother repeated under her breath, still looking at her fidgeting hands.
Meg’s pulse sped up. She eyed Brian. He nodded, willing her to go on. “That’s right. Help. I need your help.” She looked around, saw that the guards outside the door were pointing at each other and laughing at something. She lowered her voice nonetheless. “Mom, they’ve come back. The shadows. They’ve come back and they’re following me—following both of us. I believe you now, about all of it.”
Her mother’s hands stopped moving. She finally raised her head. For a moment she looked as though she’d received horrible news. Meg thought she saw tears forming. Then, as if it were the most normal transition in all the world, she began to laugh.
Meg’s shoulders hunched. It was hopeless. Her mother was too far gone.
Gillian wiped her eyes, laughing so hard now she was snorting, fighting to catch her breath.
“Mom? Do you understand anything I’ve said?”
Gillian slammed her hands down onto the table and every trace of humor left her face. She snarled, baring her teeth, more dog-like than human now. “Understand? I understand damn well. I think you may be the one who doesn’t understand. You’ve come an awfully long way just to ask your crazy mother to wave a magic wand and make everything better again.”
Meg grabbed Brian’s hand and squeezed. She was suddenly light-headed, her chest heavy. She felt a panic attack rising. Her mother’s voice was the most foreign sound in the world. “I—you were—”
“Silent,” Gillian said. “Yes, I was silent for nearly twenty years, at least when others were around. At night, when things quieted down, I’d talk to myself for hours because I was the only one who hadn’t given up on me. I was the only one who believed me.” She pointed at Meg. “I was the only one who knew the truth.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Meg’s voice quivered. “You’re the only one who can help.”
“I suppose I am. Tell me, dear, have they started following you? Have they found a way in yet?”
“Yes, I thi
nk they have. It was a loan application. I spoke with a woman on the phone. She said they could lower my interest and all I had to do was sign my name. So I did. It was just like…” she trailed off.
“Just like my application to night school. And I’m guessing you haven’t had much time to look into your little loan agency on account of the things chasing you. But I can tell you this. You won’t find any information on it. Because it doesn’t exist. Not in this world at least.”
A shiver ran up the length of Meg’s spine. Her coat was draped across her chair. She wanted to grab it but her mother’s stare held her in place.
“That’s how they get to you,” Gillian said. “They observe, they learn your hopes and dreams, your weaknesses and regrets, and they find a way to draw you to them, to sign your name on the dotted line and invite them over for dinner. Do you remember the door, sweetie? The door you said I’d accidentally opened?”
Meg held her arms, pressed her cold fingers against the bumps rising along her skin. “Yes,” she said. “I said you let the bad things in. The things only you could see.”
Her mother smiled again but there was nothing happy about it. “Yes, well, how right you were. Except, as it turns out, I’m not the only one who can see them, am I?”
Meg’s hair stiffened, every strand slowly rising to a point. She wanted to get up and walk away. “No. I suppose not. Mom, how do we stop them?”
“That’s the most important question, isn’t it? Can they be stopped? I’ve thought about that for two decades. Most nights, instead of sleeping, those words would speed through my head. It drove me mad—even more mad than I already was. I’m not sure they can be but I think there’s a way to find out.”
“How do you mean?”
The door to the hall opened and for a moment Meg knew it was them coming to take her and her mother and Brian away to some place in the shadows where the sun never shined, where there was only pain. All three of them spun their heads around.
It was only the guards, gathering a few more residents and bringing them down for dinner. Meg looked at her watch. It was three-thirty. She couldn’t believe how fast the time had flown by while she’d been speaking with her mother. She wished it were under different circumstances. She wished she’d just been stopping by to catch up.
“Not here,” her mother said, lowering her voice. “We can’t do anything here. We’ll need to leave. Tell them you want to take me for a few hours. Tell them we’re going for supper or a stroll through the park. Tell them we’re going to the fucking zoo if you want. Just get me out of this place and we can discuss the matter further.”
Meg nodded. “Okay. Give me a minute.” She stood up and nodded to Brian. “Stay with her. Make sure nothing happens.”
“Like what?” he said.
She didn’t want to answer. Like things coming out of the shadows, breaking through the windows and taking the both of you away.
“Just make sure she’s okay,” Meg said.
She started to walk toward the remaining guards at the door. On her way there, she heard her mother speaking to Brian.
“So,” Gillian said. “Are you fucking my daughter?”
Meg rolled her eyes and wished she could have been embarrassed. It would have been a relief to feel something other than fear.
Chapter Eight
Twenty minutes later they were on the road, Brian behind the wheel. Gillian sat in back and Meg took shotgun. They drove past her old middle school, the YMCA, the dance studio where she’d won two competitions, the first before her scar, the second after.
Her forehead tingled as if remembering along with her.
They drove on Main Street, past the theatre, the hardware store, the market, though now it was a tourist shop of some sort. Everything looked different, like Meg had been away for much longer than a few months. She did not feel at home in this place and come to think of it, she didn’t feel at home in Pennsylvania either.
A thought crossed Meg’s mind, something that had been nagging her since her mother had spoken again. She looked into the rearview mirror. Gillian was looking left and right, taking in the outside world that had become a mystery to her. “Why didn’t you talk to me?” Meg asked. “When I came to visit you. All those times I came to talk to you and you didn’t say a word. It was a choice.”
Gillian nodded, still watching the stores and houses pass by. “Yes, it was by choice.”
“Was it because I’d stopped believing you about the shadows and everything else?”
“No, dear. It wasn’t that at all. I chose to push you away, if you want the truth. The day you stopped visiting was one of my happiest memories in that place. Because it meant you were farther away from them. I’d hoped that would fix everything, that you’d never see them again. But you’re here right now so that proves me wrong. I think I passed on some horrible gene.”
Meg imagined all the times she’d visited her mother, how different it could have been if Gillian had just chosen to speak to her. She wouldn’t have felt so far away from everything. But she couldn’t blame her mother. She had her reasons. “I don’t think it’s as simple as that,” Meg said. “It can’t just run in the family.”
“And why is that?”
“Because Brian saw them too. Yesterday, after they broke into my apartment and wrote a message in my kitchen with my landlord’s blood. They chased me to his work and we both saw them.”
Gillian finally met Meg’s eyes in the mirror. “He did? Is this true?”
Brian turned his head to the side and nodded. “That’s right, Mrs. Foster. I saw one of them walk up to my father’s bookshop. It tapped on the window and it stared at us both. Then it broke through the glass and chased us away. I never felt so fucking crazy in all my life. Pardon my language.”
“I like him,” Gillian said. “And your apartment? Your landlord?”
Meg nodded. “It’s a long story. Right now, I’d just like to figure out a plan of some sort.”
“Easier said than done, dear. But there’s some place I’d like to go first.”
“We don’t have time for that. We need to—”
“You’ve been seeing them for a week straight. I’ve been seeing them for two decades. Another few minutes is not going to kill us. Besides, they seem to be lying low since you arrived. I saw one of them outside my window two nights ago and that was the last time. I think they’re baiting us, waiting for the right moment.”
Meg turned up the heat, wishing her mother hadn’t said that. “Where do you want to go?”
“I’d like to speak with Brian.”
“He’s right here, Mom.”
“Not that one. Your father. I’d like to have a talk with him. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see me.”
Against her better judgment, Meg gave Brian directions toward her childhood home. It was on a cul de sac. At first glance, it looked like a great place to grow up, a place you could raise a family and create some warm and fuzzy memories. Though there were some of those floating around her mind, when they pulled into the driveway, Meg felt sick to her stomach. This was the last place she’d wanted to end up. She hadn’t told her father she would be in town and hadn’t planned on it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d phoned if she was being honest. Probably the first week after she’d moved out, just to tell him she was alive and breathing.
It wasn’t that Meg resented her father. She just couldn’t stand to see him. He was another reminder of a life she’d had once, a normal life. After the night of the scar, he’d changed, become more distant, like he was a foster parent, not her own flesh and blood.
Her father had stopped visiting Gillian long before Meg. He’d never given Meg an explanation other than it just breaks my heart to see her like that which Meg thought was bullshit. He blamed Gillian for her sickness as if it were a choice, as if she just wanted attention.
Br
ian cut the engine and waited for further instructions. Meg could tell he was on edge and uncomfortable. This wasn’t how you pictured meeting your girlfriend’s family for the first time.
Gillian stepped out of the car quickly, walking up the drive and the front steps like she still lived there and had just been out grocery shopping for twenty years. Meg stepped out and sped in front of her. “Let me,” she said in front of the door. “Dad’s going to be…surprised, to say the least. To see both of us.”
“Nothing like a good surprise.” Her mother knocked and Meg batted her hand away. This was an awful idea. Nothing good could come from an impromptu family reunion. She ought to turn around, get back in the car, and head somewhere they could talk about more pressing issues.
The front door opened and she was left looking at her father.
Who was left looking at his daughter, his estranged wife, and a man he didn’t recognize.
“Hi, Dad.” She smiled, her pulse pounding. “Your remember Mom, don’t you? And this here is my friend Brian. You guys share a name. What’re the odds?”
Her father said nothing, stood frozen with his mouth agape.
A cool breeze blew through the street, swaying trees and bushes. The sky was filling with gray clouds. She wished the sun would come out. It was easier to see shadows in sunlight. Though shadows should not have existed in darkness in the first place.
But these were not normal shadows.
Meg looked around for any sign of life on the street. There was none and that somehow bothered her much more. What were they waiting for? She zippered the front of her jacket as far as it would go.
“Would you mind letting us in?” she said to her father.
Without waiting for an answer, Gillian stepped inside. Meg followed, waving Brian on as well.
“What the hell is going on?” her father said. “Gillian? Does the facility know you’re here?”
Gillian took off her coat and tossed it onto the living room chair. “No, I escaped. There are hoards of cops out there looking for me.” She began to look around. Meg tried to imagine how different it looked from the last time her mother had seen it.
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