Ripple Effect: A Novel

by Adalynn Rafe

  I look down at my hands, fleshy and pink, as I remember the transparent ones that I had touched earlier. “She looked like me, Mom, the angel. We touched hands. That’s all I remember. I blacked out and woke up feeling like I do now. Happy and okay—and a little hung over.” I laugh innocently. “Have I disappointed you?” I ask in a scared whisper.

  She holds my hands in hers. “Heavens no, my sweet girl. You just scared the life out of me, that’s all.” Her fingers softly comb through my hair and down my back. “It’s a parent’s job to be scared.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” I say quickly. I try to change the topic because I feel uncomfortable and guilty. “Why do you wear your wedding ring still?” I stare down at the unique golden band and diamonds. “Papa is dead . . .”

  Mom twists the ring off her delicate fingers and hands it to me. I stare down the familiar piece of jewelry and smile. When I was a girl I always tried it on and pretended to be married.

  “Death means nothing when you love the person with all your heart,” she explains and tilts her head to the side. “Your father will forever be my husband. And I know he walks beside us, guides from beyond the realm.”

  Tears fill my eyes as an empty feeling comes over me. “I miss him, Mom.”

  She nods. “Baby, I do too. Someday we’ll see him again.”

  My eyes meet hers. “I know.” Normally, I would mock her and say she is a fool, but she is right. I’ll see my Papa again on the other side, I just know it.

  Her arms wrap tightly around me and she kisses my head. “You are safe and happy and in my arms. That’s all that matters now. Whatever you saw, consider it a Godsend. Just as I consider you and Adie my little Godsends.”

  I can’t help it and my eyes fill with tears all over again as I think about suicide. I am too young to die and I don’t want to! “I’m sorry,” I say again, feeling so guilty for terrifying her.

  “Cecily, you aren’t going to kill yourself, are you?” Her face is almost white. “I don’t think you are, but I don’t want to jump to assumptions. I want to listen to you, understand how you feel.”

  “No, Mom. I’m not going to kill myself––not now, at least. I don’t want to die, Mom, I want to live! I want to have my first kiss and put my feet in the Pacific Ocean. I want to go to the Art Institute in New York and paint and draw my heart out! I don’t want to die!”

  “Whoever that angel was, she came at the perfect time, didn’t she?” Mom tears up. “Baby, you follow your dreams. Don’t ever be scared. I am here for you.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I smile back and give her the ring.

  “I don’t want to upset you, Cecily.” Mom looks down for a moment. “But can you tell me more about this man who attacked you? You said something happened in that journal. I know about the bruises, and I worry that what he’s done to you is far worse than touching . . .”

  I revert back to being scared. I can’t tell her! He’ll kill Adie!

  “What did he do to you?” Her eyes meet mine and hold a serious gaze.

  My eyes close and I can see his dark eyes on me, feel his disgusting breath on my balmy skin. They shoot open as I flinch. “I don’t know,” I say quickly.

  “Was it just touching, Cecily—or did he do more? You mention in here that he touched you, but you don’t give any more than that.” She touches the mark on my neck softly. “Cecily, honey?”

  “I don’t know, Mom! He touched me, it’s all I remember!” I yell, lying completely. There is nothing that either of us can do, and if she tries anything, Adie could die. No one will believe me. Leison knows everyone and has implanted thoughts about me into their heads. It’s not worth losing my sister or my life.

  “This is why you’ve skipped World Civ for the past week,” Mom says, already under the assumption that Leison had something do with this, I’m sure. “The school called and said you were skipping that class and that your grade was dropping.”

  I nod. “It’s scary, as you can imagine. And if I do go, I wear baggy clothes so he doesn’t notice me.”

  “Does he notice you?” That look fills her face, the look that a Momma Puma gets when she’s getting ready to pounce at the thing threating her cub. “Is it Mr. Leison who is doing this, Cecily?”

  “Yes.” Bravery fills me, if only for that moment. “Mr. Leison hasn’t called me back since the first time, but I’ve only gone to his class once since the incident.”

  Mom tries to blink away the tears, but can’t. She clears her voice as her eyes fill with rage. “If your Papa was here—he—he’d shoot him!”

  “Papa is dead,” I remind her. “Spirits can’t help in these situations.”

  “Baby, even if he touches you he belongs in jail! We need to call Sheriff Cooper and tell him what has happened. Especially if he’s a teacher! This is wrong!”

  My head shakes. Clearly, I’ve tried to talk to Sheriff Copper. He’s the one man that I could talk to! Papa would want me to talk to him, to find refuge in him, being that he was his best friend and my Godfather, but Leison was already there stopping me from doing so. Leison is everywhere!

  “Just forget about it! He won’t do it again,” I say to her quickly.

  “And that’s why you’re skipping his class? You’re terrified, Cecily!” Her eyes are wide with apprehension and worry for her daughter. “He will do it again.”

  Anger fills me. “He didn’t rape me, no one believes me, and he’s buds with Sheriff Copper! And he mentioned Adie––he’ll hurt her too, Mom! He just touched me and he won’t be at it again!”

  “Adie?” Her voice fills with concern. “What about Adie?”

  “It was a game—a mind trick. He never said he’d hurt her flat out, but he mentioned her and Papa to make me upset and cry.”

  Mom’s face sours. “We need to tell,” she says, her jaw clenched tightly. She is going into attack mode. “This is bigger than just touching, honey.”

  “Stop!” I move away from her. “Just stop! It’s stupid and insignificant, okay! He won’t touch me again. He won’t do anything to Adie!” I cover my face to hide the tears from her. “If I just let it be, he’ll leave me alone . . .”

  Wrapping her arms around me, she holds me tightly. “Okay, Ces. I will do as you want, for now. We’ll watch it from here, and if it gets worse––” She releases a long breath, one filled with frustration. “Cecily, please just let me call––”

  “Mom,” I say, cutting her off. “I’m not going to tell anyone! Let’s not talk about it anymore.”

  “Well, I need to be positive that you are going to be okay.” Worry lingers in her look. I knew how hard it would be for her to hear the truth. Now she just has to trust me.

  I forcefully smile. “Yes. Look at me, I’m smiling. I’ll be fine, Mom.”

  My mother kisses my forehead. “I love you, my Cecily,” she says, before standing up. She is still terrified for me. I shouldn’t have told her about the Adie part . . .

  “I love you, Mom,” I reply.

  As she moves toward the door, my phone rings.

  She looks back at me with surprise, bordering on paranoia. “Who’s that?” All of us are here already, so I can understand why she wants to know.

  Smiling, I look up at her with excitement. “I think it’s Kelly.”

  “Kelly?” She shows a half-smile.

  I nod. “This boy I met at the grocery store.”

  With relief, she nods and smiles. What was she expecting––a serial killer or the boogeyman?

  “Okay. He’s coming over?” she asks.

  Squealing with excitement, I get to my feet. “Yeah!”

  Mom smiles with adoration and leaves my room. She is so happy to have me back to being Cecily, but I can see that there is worry in her eyes. Of course there will be worry. The thing I see most when she looks at me is the instinct to protect. Her daughter is being attacked by a teacher. Her daughter just confessed to her that she was suicidal. The same teacher is threatening her other daughter. Geez, Mom is taking this far
better than I would. And I know that she is terrified that I’ll go all dark and spooky on her again. But she knows not to push me. She’s smart––smarter than most parents.

  And I think about Leison again and shudder in disgust. Isn’t being all depressed and dark, an alcoholic and bossy skank enough? Did he really have to molest and hurt me on top of it; really push me over the edge toward those suicidal thoughts? I think Mom is right about him, there is something else going on that we can’t see, something sinister that he is doing.

  Another wave of panic fills me when I look into the mirror and see the bite mark on my neck. Oh, my––this is far messier than I thought. This is truly an epic disaster. I bite back the tears of distress and keep telling myself that things will be okay. They have to be.

  Chapter 30

  It takes me ten minutes just to fix my makeup from crying. My mascara’s everywhere and my eyes are all puffy and red, aka not attractive. I’m a mess and have to clean up!

  While running down the stairs, I squeal in excitement. In the living room I find Adie, Hazel, Darien, and Daphne playing a shooter game, totally oblivious to me. I clear my throat and throw my hands up in the air before squealing in excitement one more time.

  The four of them look at me with that look. You know the look. When they are wondering what your problem is. Jema is asleep on the couch.

  “Kelly is coming over!” I squeal, my hands flinging around in the air, not sure what to do with themselves in all the excitement.

  Daphne and Adie look confused. “Kelly?” Adie asks.

  “Some new man meat,” Hazel jokes as she winks at me.

  Adie looks at Hazel with confusion. “Uh . . . okay. I’m not asking.”

  “He’ll be here soon!” I yell. “Wake up, Jema! Everyone needs to be on their best behavior.”

  “Queen Hazel, I think you just got booted from the throne . . .” Jema says tiredly. She is stretching on the couch like a cat, her brunette hair cascading down the side of it.

  After shooting her an annoyed look, I run into the kitchen to tidy up our snacks. Usually we’d just leave them in their bags, but this time I put them in special glass containers. Organization is key when trying to impress someone.

  “So, why did you go running upstairs?” Hazel asks, watching me closely as she enters into the kitchen.

  I shrug, as if nothing happened and I didn’t just cry my eyes out. “I had to check something.”

  “Something?” Hazel raises her eyebrows with curiosity.

  “Yeah, something. That’s all,” I finalize the discussion.

  “Like that one thing . . .” Her eyebrow rises and she mouths, Mr. Leison?

  I nod hesitantly. “I guess.”

  “Mom?” Hazel whispers.

  “Yeah.” I turn away from her, not wanting to talk about it.

  Hazel perks up. “Well, that is fan-freakin-tastic!” Clearly, she thought Mom had taken care of the problem but she hadn’t.

  “Things are going to be fine.” Well, almost fine. I am not going to kill myself anymore, and I say no more to drugs and alcohol. I am not entirely lying.

  “Were things ever not fine?” Jema walks into the kitchen and heads for the cupboard to pull out a blue glass. She pauses for a minute to think. “Well, were they worse than they were? Are they going to be fine now?”

  Daphne sits at the bar and shoots Jema a look to shut up. Then she looks at me, waiting for an answer to Jema’s question. “You are going to be fine, right?”

  My lips purse in thought and I decide not to answer that truthfully. “Silly question.”

  The doorbell rings, causing me to jump out of my skin in excitement.

  “Get it!” Hazel yells to me.

  Nodding, I push past her and through the living room. Once I reach the door, I sigh once and put a smile on my face. The door swings open slowly and I see Kelly standing on my doorstep. He wears a black leather jacket and denim, playing it cool with a half-smile, and his brown hair is spiked in place. I catch my heart for a minute, an odd phenomenon I never thought I’d feel. In his hand are the cookies that I was pretending to buy.

  “Hey,” he says suavely. Blue eyes stare at me eagerly, but the smile on his mouths shows that he’s feeling in control of his nervous emotions. “Cookies?”

  Blushing, I take the box from him. “Thanks,” I reply, before laughing nervously. “Come in?” I take a step back from the door to allow him room.

  Kelly brushes against my arm as he comes inside. For those five seconds of contact, all I can hear is my heart pounding and that little voice in my head telling me to not tackle him until I know him better, even though I swear I’ve always known him. He glances at me and gives me an intrigued smile, as if he can hear the pulsing blood shooting through my veins. I see that his cheeks are flushed— I’m not the only one feeling the heat.

  I point toward the foyer, which has a coat rack by the stairwell, though coats are rarely hung on the old thing. Smiling as I turn around to face the outside world, I close the solid wooden door quickly and breathe for a second.

  What sorcery does he possess to make me feel like this? It’s like I know him from before, like, I love him from before.

  “Are you alright?” he asks softly, standing right beside me. He smells good, like lavender and snow and autumn mixed together.

  My body jerks in surprise and I look at him. “The lock is jammed,” I lie. I can’t exactly say that I was talking to myself, can I? Or that I want to tackle him. Maybe I can say that . . .

  Kelly guides me softly aside and locks the door effortlessly. “Fixed.”

  “Well––” I am stranded with no words. “Yep.” I try not to turn bright red as I smile.

  We both exchange nervous glances and laugh at each other.

  I introduce him to everyone, all gathered in the living room now. Daphne, Jema, and Adie do this swooning thing when they see him, all tilting to the left with large smiles on their faces. I bet it’s his blue eyes that captivate them. He says, “Hi.” They all giggle annoyingly. I roll my eyes before telling him to take a seat.

  “Is that––?” Kelly asks, but pauses. He’s staring at the cathode-ray TV. The boob-tube.

  Darien nods with a chill smile. “Yeah, dude, it is. It’s the new Halo.”

  “Sick, man.” Kelly reaches for the controller. “I’ve been eyeing this game forever!”

  My heart does this patter thing and I think I seriously might be in love with him, but not really because I’ve only met him twice. A loud sigh escapes me and he catches me smiling at him.

  “Would you like to join?” he asks, a large grin on his face.

  I shake my head. “No, you go ahead. I’m sure you want to play co-op campaign mode, right?”

  Kelly smiles. “Sorta.”

  They begin playing and the girls and I decide that we are going to order a pizza, because licorice, ice cream, and chips will not cut it for dinner. As we argue over which kinds of pizza to buy, Jema and Hazel bicker and laugh, and the boys make shooting noises and aggravated grunts at the game. I look at my big sister and wrap my arms around her tightly because I love her so much. Tears fill my eyes and I hug her tighter.

  “I love you too, Ces,” Adie whispers to me as she embraces me.

  We plop back onto the couch and watch the boys kill aliens. Someone is always laughing, it seems.

  “I have a question for the mysterious Kelly,” Jema says with a smile.

  Kelly pauses the game so that he can give his full attention to her.

  “Dude,” Darien mutters. “I got a huge-butt monster up in my face.”

  “Monster butt in your face?” Hazel asks, and she and I laugh immaturely.

  Kelly dismisses Darien’s concerns with a smile and the sweep of a hand. “I have an answer, Jema.”

  “What do you want to be when you grow up?” she asks.

  Kelly glances at me. “Well, I want to be a sailor.”

  From nowhere, sadness enters me. “You want to leave?”
r />   “I did,” Kelly corrects. “But now . . . I’m not sure.” He smiles at me, his eyes soften, and for a second––I swear he might hold my hand.

  Blushing and insecure, I look down and clear my throat.

  “Why would you want to be a sailor?” Hazel asks. “I would join the Army if it were me.”

  “Just because your dad was in the Army,” Jema points out.

  Kelly laughs before explaining, “Well, here is the story. There was once a really great man who was in the Navy. It was the tail end of World War II. He was on a ship in the battle of Sumar. This ship was taken down by the Japanese and this man died.”

  I felt really sad for some reason and wanted to cry. The story was so touching, and somehow familiar to me, like I’d heard it before.

  “This man was named Kelly, and was my grandfather’s uncle,” Kelly explains. “My grandfather was only ten when he left for the war. He could remember Kelly vividly. He looked just like me, a spitting image, and that is one of the reasons why I am named after him. He did everything he could to help his family out when times were hard, especially when his brother and Pop had gone to war with the Army.”

  “How old was he when he died?” I ask quietly, grief written all over my face.

  Kelly looks at me with worry. “Eighteen.”

  “Oh! That is super sad!” Daphne says loudly.

  Why do I feel like I know him? Kelly that is. This felt so familiar to me––so painstakingly familiar to me.

  “And that is why you want to join the Navy?” Darien asks.

  “Yes. I turned eighteen last month,” Kelly explains, looking at me through worried eyes once again. “And I suppose this is silly, but also because of plain old patriotism.”

  My heart begins to beat quickly and I feel panicked. “I don’t want you to go,” I blurt out.

  Everyone looks at me with shock, except Kelly. He’s smiling through worried eyes.

  “I don’t want you to die. It would be horrible,” I explain further.

  Discretely, he brushes his hand on mine. “Well, fortunately, the future is not set in stone, is it?”