Little Emmett

by Abe Moss

  He wanted very badly to tell her he didn’t know one way or another. Had she forgotten he was only a boy? How should he know any of these things? Wasn’t this her job?

  She startled him as she leaned forward suddenly, head bent in a secretive way, smiling.

  “Truth is, I have a surprise for you. I thought about waiting a while longer, because…” She laughed, an inside joke only for herself. “Well, according to your file your birthday is just a little more than a week away. Did you realize that?”

  Was that right, he wondered? He had to admit he hadn’t realized that.

  “Eight years old. My, my, my.”

  “I forgot,” he said, and that wasn’t a lie in the least bit.

  “Would you be terribly offended if I showed you your surprise a bit early? I think it would cheer you up quite a lot. How does that sound?”

  “No helmet?” he asked.

  “No helmet. Not today.”

  She stood from her desk and moved to the door. Opening it, with a clever kind of grin, she motioned for him to follow.

  Down the corridor, she led him in a direction he’d only been once before. He hoped they weren’t headed to the same place.

  Detainment.

  Would she be so cruel as to do something like that?

  Following a handful of twists and turns, he didn’t quite recognize the route they were taking and decided it couldn’t be that.

  Before too much longer she stopped. She turned to him expectantly, waiting for him to say something, as if he should have anything to say at the moment. A closed door waited between them. Insignificant. Was this the surprise, he wondered? Because if it was, he didn’t get it.

  “Do you know where we are?” she asked.

  “No,” he said.

  She laughed—again, some kind of personal joke not meant for him.

  “No, of course you don’t. These corridors and doors must all look the same to you. You’ve been here before, though. Do you remember our previous walk we took? And do you remember when…” She paused conversationally. “… I believe you thought you’d heard something, but it turned out it was nothing.”

  His heart began to pound a little faster.

  “It was such a peculiar moment because, well… and you wouldn’t have known this, of course, which makes it so amusing…” For the sake of the air held in his lungs and the beating of his pulse, he wished she’d just get on with it. “You stopped here. It was here you thought you’d heard something, and it struck me as being so strange. Do you hear anything now?”

  “No.”

  “Do you have any idea what this room is?”

  “No,” he said.

  “Exactly. And you wouldn’t, because there isn’t a sign on the door, and you’ve never been here before, and this door requires a keycard to get in. There was no way for you to know, but… purely by coincidence, this was the door you thought you’d heard something.” She closed her eyes, savoring whatever unfathomable sensation it was she had tickling her mind. “Well, I’ll tell you where we are. This is essentially a storage closet. A big one. It’s where we keep personal belongings of our patients here, things of that nature. Like the dreadful clothes you arrived in, for instance, or your shoes. Or other things, too, like a few boxes of belongings recovered from the house where you lived previously.”

  The bass of his hammering heart shook him from head to toe.

  “Care to take a look with me?”

  He said nothing. He didn’t need to say anything. She could see plainly by the look on his face that she had his full attention. She tapped her keycard to the door. It beeped. She pulled the door open.

  “Shall we?”

  He entered first.

  It wasn’t as large a room as his imagination led him to believe, but for its purpose it might have been fairly large. The shelves went from floor to ceiling, high above their heads. The spaces between the shelves for them to walk were long and narrow and mazelike themselves, appropriately matching the facility as a whole. Emmett paused, marveling at all the labeled totes on the shelves, each of them belonging to someone different.

  The door shut behind him. It was deathly silent inside. Muffled.

  “It’s a lot, isn’t it?” she said behind him. “Some of the things in here are rather old, as well. Not too old. We throw plenty out. No one claims it.” She gave him a second longer to stare. “Well, then. Follow me.”

  She headed down one of the many narrow rows. As he followed close behind, he noticed the labels on the totes were numbered.

  “These are all the boys’ belongings, naturally. There’s another room like this on the girls’ side. So many random things. To be honest, I don’t know why we keep so much… ninety percent of it doesn’t see the light of day again… Ah, here you are…”

  She pulled a box from its shelf. He glimpsed the number ‘206’ on its label.

  Holding the tote—the tote containing his things, his things, whatever those things may be—she gave a naughty smirk.

  “Excited?” she asked.

  He shrugged, undecided if he was excited or nervous. Or both.

  Balancing the box against the shelf in front of her, she took the lid off and set it aside. Examining the contents within, she lifted her brow.

  “Quite an assortment.”

  She reached in, handling his belongings in secret. He stood on tiptoe, trying to get a glimpse, but saw nothing. She pulled some articles of clothing out and set them in a heap on the shelf, uninterested.

  “Doubt you’re interested in those…”

  Something caught her eye and she beamed.

  “Here’s something I bet you’ve missed.”

  She reached in, holding whatever it was within the box, out of his sight. She turned it over in her hands, studying it. It was an unbearable wait, watching her touch his things with her undeserving hands…

  When she finally pulled it out, his heart sank.

  “Fond memories of these, I bet?”

  She held an action figure. He did have fond memories of them, though they weren’t what he was hoping for. He nodded halfheartedly as she held it up for him to see. His reaction must not have been what she was looking for, either, as she appeared disappointed by it. She placed the action figure back inside the box.

  “Not much else in here, to be honest. I hoped there might be something you’d be more excited about…”

  He’d hoped for the same. But it made sense. Perhaps it’d been a fluke—the music he’d heard. Perhaps the last few instances had been his imagination. Nothing. He’d only thought he’d heard it. Somehow…

  Perhaps there was good reason for his being in this facility, after all.

  “Oh, wait…” Dr. Marks hesitated, spotting something else. She held something aside inside the box—likely more clothes—getting a better look at what hid underneath them. “Hmmm. Maybe…” She fiddled with it, whatever it was, brow raised in scrutiny. She pursed her lips. “…fairly pretty, whatever it’s made of…”

  “What is it?” Emmett asked.

  She flicked her eyes down on him, sensing his grown interest. That slithery smile found its way to the corners of her mouth.

  “I’m not sure you’d find this very interesting. It’s definitely not something for little boys…”

  “What is it?” he repeated.

  She held it up. By its chain.

  It was just as he remembered it. The black stone pendant twirled delicately, the chain twisting beneath her grip. The white stone in its center was smooth, unmarked—pure. The sight of it filled him with instant relief. It was as though he’d been anxiously waiting for it all this time without knowing it. He could relax now. He could live each day at ease knowing it was safe. He hadn’t lost it. Or he had, and it found its way back to him. And for that he was grateful.

  “You seem quite taken with this,” Dr Marks said, dangling it before him like a hypnotist’s charm. “What’s so special about it?”

  Did he dare tell her? Maybe she alread
y knew. Testing his honesty. His knee-jerk reaction was to keep his knowledge close to his chest, but now wasn’t the time for that. At the sight of it, he understood more than ever that he needed to be good.

  “It’s my mom’s,” he told her. “She gave it to me.”

  “I should have known!” She rolled it up and held it in her palm, examining it. “It’s a pretty necklace, that’s for sure…”

  “Can I hold it?” Emmett asked.

  Her amusement faltered momentarily.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” she said, eyeing the necklace. “During our next appointment together, if you’re on your best behavior…” She casually turned the pendant over in her hand. Emmett couldn’t take his eyes off it. “After we’ve conducted another session with the helmet, I’ll let you hold the necklace. I might even let you keep it, if you’re really good. Does that sound fair?”

  He didn’t know how fair it sounded, truthfully, and he was reluctant to agree to anything like the last time. But it was his mother’s necklace they were talking about. He thought he’d never see it again. Without a doubt, he didn’t want to chance that happening.

  “Okay,” he said.

  “Okay? Oh, that’s wonderful. That’s very good, Emmett.” She stuffed the necklace into the pocket of her shirt. As if vanished there, he felt a tug on his tiny heart. “I’ll keep it safe with me in the meantime. It’ll be right here waiting for you.”

  Dejectedly, he answered, “Okay.”

  Wearing the look of someone who believed they’d done a generous favor, she said, “For your birthday.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  OLD FRIENDS, DEAD FRIENDS

  Emmett sat with Zachary in the cafeteria, sharing his company although neither of them were entirely present. Emmett ate robotically, deep in thought, while Zachary hardly ate at all, waiting in line every meal for food he would only stare at.

  “I mean… I’m sad Jackie’s gone, too,” Emmett said suddenly, speaking his thoughts aloud. “But… it’s like he’s just giving up now. It’s almost like he would have been better off if she wasn’t here at all. I don’t know. Now he doesn’t even eat with us. I don’t think he eats at all!”

  Zachary’s eyes lifted, vague and drifting.

  “Maybe he’s not hungry.” Zachary set down his fork, its tines never knowing the touch of food. “I’m never hungry anymore.”

  “Because the medicine. But you still have to eat. You look sick.”

  “I’m not sick. I’m just… tired.”

  “You don’t eat or sleep because you’re sick.”

  “I’m not sick, Emmett.”

  He didn’t want to argue. He finished his own meal and then they sat a while longer together. The cafeteria hummed with the sounds of mindlessness. Emmett let his thoughts wander mindlessly, too, and they repeatedly found themselves in the same places, anyway—Tobie, Jackie, Dr. Marks and her special helmet. His increasing suspicion that he, too, was getting sick in ways which couldn’t be outwardly observed.

  He startled as Zachary jerked beside him.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. I keep dozing off. That’s all.”

  “Let’s go to the library. Maybe you can take a nap.”

  Zachary shrugged, signaling he wouldn’t make any promises, though it was worth a try. They dropped off their trays and made their way there.

  The numerous chairs and couches were unevenly occupied by other napping children, as was the case most days. Zachary found himself an empty spot and curled up.

  In the meantime, Emmett perused the shelves, looking for nothing in particular. There were books for all ages. Even grown-up books, which he examined curiously, intimidatingly thick and heavy in his hands. There were all kinds of genres to choose from. He pulled them randomly, admiring their covers. Space ships. Jungle adventures. Suited spies with their pistols aimed. Screaming faces covered in blood surrounded by writhing tentacles. There were even books featuring half-naked men and women on their covers. Upon pulling one of these off its shelf, Emmett felt himself burn shamefully, and he couldn’t place it back quickly enough.

  Do you know what fucking is, Emmett?

  He sighed, thinking again of Tobie, sitting in the yard by himself, watching the fence as though his sister would appear again following a three-week absence. Maybe he was right. Maybe she would come back…

  As he turned down a new aisle of books, one in particular caught his eye. Familiar. He pulled it out, flipped it over in his hands. He grinned from ear to ear, exercising muscles in his cheeks he’d forgotten were there. A tale of magic. Illustrated with stormy-faced wizards holding their staffs high above their heads against an onslaught of foul looking creatures pouring over the horizon like a bloody avalanche. In the red, dusky sky a dragon soared—the very same which had inspired so many drawings sharing its likeness.

  Oh, Bailey…

  Mrs. Holmes had never finished reading it to them.

  With the book in hand, he crossed the library toward the entrance. A guard standing at the door turned to him as he approached.

  “Not planning on taking that somewhere, are you?” the guard said.

  Emmett stopped, regarded the book in his hands despairingly. He saw no lenience in the guard’s hardened face. Without a second thought, he turned back, placed the book on the shelf where he knew he’d find it quickly again, and then continued on where he’d been headed. As he left, he saw that Zachary was lying on the same couch, eyes closed. Positioned like he was, with his skin pale as the pages of a newly printed book, it was a tossup whether he was sleeping or dead.

  Emmett hurried back to the cafeteria, where he traveled into Ward B on his way to the yard.

  He shielded his eyes as he stepped outside, the sun beating directly down on them. He scanned the yard hurriedly, jittery with excitement. There was only a sliver of shade on one side of the grass. A large group of children was gathered there. Continuing to shield his eyes, he made his way toward them, certain Tobie would be somewhere there.

  “Tobie!”

  He was sitting cross-legged against the brick, paying no mind to the pacing children on all sides, all of them holding on to the shade before it disappeared in a matter of minutes. Even then his eyes were on the fence in the distance, where no one roamed. Emmett came to stand before him, waiting until he’d notice him standing there but he never did. He hardly blinked in his staring.

  “Tobie,” Emmett repeated.

  Tobie looked up. Noticing Emmett, his face was unchanged.

  “I have something to show you,” Emmett said, wasting no time.

  “What is it?”

  “Come on. You’ll see.”

  Tobie took a deep breath, making no effort to stand.

  “What is it, Emmett?”

  “It’s a surprise. You’ll like it, I promise.”

  “I’m not in the mood for surprises,” Tobie said, though they both knew that was entirely untrue. It was a surprise he waited for every day.

  “It’ll cheer you up.”

  “I don’t need to be cheered up. I wanna stay here.”

  “Come on,” Emmett said. “Just come look. It’ll only take a minute.”

  “Just tell me what it is,” Tobie said, a sharp edge to his voice. “I don’t want to leave for nothing.”

  Emmett opened his mouth speechlessly, feeling the eager energy draining out of him, exasperated.

  “It’s…” He paused, wishing there was anything he could say to gain Tobie’s interest without lying. Each passing second, witnessing Tobie’s utter lack of curiosity, he felt his own optimism crumbling. It was only a book. One they hadn’t even finished reading. What was there really to be excited about? After a moment’s hesitation, watching as Tobie turned his attention back toward the sun-glared fence, he gave up. “Never mind. It’s not really… anything.”

  Tobie folded his arms—a wordless yet powerful response to Emmett’s pointless blathering—and that was that.

  Emmett let him be and retu
rned to the library, defeated.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  A sound roused him. A sound he was accustomed to by now. As his mind booted up, trying to gather what time it could be, he focused on the sound and noticed this time there was something different about it.

  There was a certain hysteria to Zachary’s sobbing tonight.

  Emmett pulled his curtain back and squinted against the bright cell light. Zachary’s curtain was wide open, his bed empty. Emmett leaned toward the edge of his cubby, viewing the ground. There Zachary was, crouched in the corner beside the toilet. Vomiting again, most likely. His back was to him, propping himself over the toilet bowl on his spindly, shaking arms. Crying. Before long, he turned and settled against the wall where Emmett was able to see his face.

  “Zachary?”

  The front of his uniform was stained dark with blood. His mouth. His chin. Emmett crawled out of bed and went to him, saw the blood cloudy in the toilet bowl. Zachary hitched with sobs.

  “Blood,” Emmett said. He couldn’t say or think anything else at the sight of it. He ached at the sight of it. “Zachary, it’s blood.”

  Zachary buried his face in his hands.

  “I can feel it,” he said. “It’s not much longer now…”

  Emmett moved toward their door. “Help!” he shouted.

  “No!” Zachary glared, his eyes pinched in a terrible scowl. “Don’t.”

  “I’m calling for help!”

  “Don’t, I said!”

  Emmett was stunned. Unable to take his eyes off the blood, he felt sour, throbbing pangs through his body, hurting at the sight of Zachary’s hurt. Oh, and by the look of it, he thought, by the amount of blood, it must hurt…

  Zachary’s jaw dropped as he felt another wave of nausea crawling up his insides, and he lunged toward the toilet, bent over it on his trembling arms. He heaved and heaved, though Emmett heard nothing in the water. It was too much. He wasn’t thinking straight, was all. Emmett turned to the door once more and shouted at the top of his lungs.