The Hidden

by Jessica Verday

  I took a step back. I needed to get out of this room. The air didn’t feel right. It was stuffy. Where was the door? The walls were closing in. I couldn’t breathe, and—

  “Hi.”

  I spun around. The voice had come from behind me. It was high pitched and childish.

  A girl was standing there, in a long nightgown that appeared to have once been frilly and white but was now stained and tattered. Shreds of lace wavered in little clumps around the edges of her wrists. A teddy bear with rubbed-away fur and only one eye hung from her hand.

  I tried frantically to remember the “official warning,” but all that kept coming to mind was, Stick. Don’t poke. Be nice.

  “Hi,” I said eventually, moving slowly so that I was closer to the door. “How are you?”

  She looked like she was my age, yet her voice was definitely that of a little girl. She took a sudden step toward me, and my heart sped up. “I lost my friend,” she said sadly. “She died.”

  Oh. Wow. That was unexpected. I could feel my face softening. “You did? I did too.”

  She held up her teddy bear. “This is my friend now.”

  “Good. That’s good.” I didn’t know if I should keep moving to the door or keep talking. Which one was the least likely to upset her?

  “You’re special,” she said, moving toward me again and putting out one hand. “Pretty color.”

  She could see my color? Was she like Caspian? Or like me?

  Suddenly the most horrific thought crossed my mind. She’s dead. I’m seeing someone else who’s dead, and they’re going to lock me away in here. Or maybe I’m already in here. Strapped to a bed. How can I tell what’s real and what’s not real? How can I ever …

  I could feel a little piece of my mind slowly start screaming, and I didn’t know. Couldn’t tell. Had no idea if this was an elaborate hoax set up by everyone just to get me here so that they’d never let me out, and how would I—

  “There you are.”

  Both of us looked up.

  A different nurse from the one Uri and I had followed was in front of us, arms folded. “Child, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  Me? Is it me?

  The girl in the nightgown turned and walked toward the bed. With the teddy bear still in one hand, she climbed up and then sat down. She put the bear on her lap and reached over for a strap. “I lost my mom,” she said sadly. “She died.”

  I watched in mute horror as she slowly started to strap one wrist in.

  “I lost my dad,” she repeated. “He died.”

  “Poor girl,” the nurse murmured, glancing back at me. “She had a mental breakdown. Has to be strapped in just to take her meds. Are you with the other visitor? The gentleman?”

  All I could do was nod.

  “Well, honey, let me go take you right to him. You must have gotten lost in this maze of a place. Just give me one second.”

  She went over to the bed, putting a hand on the girl’s arm. “You don’t need to do that. It’s not time for your medication yet. Why don’t you come with me? I’ll take you to watch TV.”

  “Pretty color,” the girl said, looking up at the nurse.

  My heart whooshed with relief. It’s not me! I’m not crazy! She is.

  Gently the nurse undid the strap and helped the girl down from the bed. Scooping up her teddy bear, the nurse handed it to the girl and then led her to the door.

  “You can follow us,” the nurse said to me. “We’re all going to the same place.”

  I wanted to laugh hysterically. I knew she meant that we were all going to the same front waiting area, but all I could think was, You’re right. Everyone goes to the same place. I looked back at the bed as I left the room. Some of us just get there faster than others.

  We shuffled slowly down the hall but eventually made it to the front desk. The nurse gave me a kind smile and pointed over to a corner, where I saw Uri talking to an older man with white hair. The man was wearing an old-fashioned white suit, and he looked like a college professor. A sad college professor. As I got closer, I could hear what they were saying.

  “Don’t you feel any sense of responsibility?” Uri asked.

  “He’s made his choice,” the man replied. “It was not mine to make.”

  “But aren’t you going to help us at all? You should be there.”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry, but he won’t listen to me.”

  Uri caught sight of me, and the conversation stopped abruptly. “Ready to go?” he asked me.

  “Ready, like, an hour ago. You never came and got me.”

  “I was going to as soon as I was done here.”

  “How much longer were you going to be? You took a really long time. I had a slight run-in with one of the patients. But it’s cool, I’m fine.”

  Something caught my attention, and from the corner of my eye I saw a male aide come to fetch the girl from the nurse. He was wearing leather pants underneath a scrub top uniform, and he looked like he could have been Johnny Depp’s brother.

  The male nurses wear leather pants here? This place is really weird.

  “I guess we can leave, then,” Uri said, drawing my attention back to him. “We’ve said all there is to say.”

  The man in the white suit didn’t say good-bye to either of us but instead turned and walked down another hallway. I watched him go, wondering what exactly was going on.

  “Did you find anything out?” I asked Uri.

  He led me outside to the golf cart. The expression on his face was angry. “Yeah. I found out that we’re on our own. The person I need isn’t here.”

  Chapter Twelve

  ADVICE

  From his half-itinerant life, also, he was a kind of traveling gazette, carrying the whole budget of local gossip from house to house …

  —“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”

  Cacey was waiting for us when we got back to the guesthouse. She looked like she still felt pretty awful, but after a short exchange with Uri in which he told her only that he was unsuccessful, we got in the car and drove away from the asylum without looking back.

  All I could think about on the ride home was that girl. What had her life been like before she’d gone in there? Does she have any friends that miss her? A best friend? That could have been me. …

  Uri’s phone rang when we were almost to the house, and he answered it. He spoke briefly, then hung up. “Slight detour,” he told Cacey. “We need to stop at the cemetery.”

  “Are we going to Nikolas and Katy’s house?” I asked. I should have guessed that was where they’d take Caspian.

  He nodded, and we drove through the open cemetery gates and headed for the far side. When we got to the trees, Nikolas and Katy were there, waiting for us. And so was Caspian.

  I put my fingers on the door handle, ready to jump out and grab him.

  “We’ll go get him and bring him to you,” Cacey said. “There are still people around.”

  “Yeah, okay. Just hurry.” I would have agreed to just about anything as long as they went and got him right now.

  Cacey and Uri got out, somehow managing to look effortlessly cool, like they were just taking a stroll, and wandered over to the trees. Uri pointed something out, making Cacey laugh, and then they came back with Caspian following them. Nikolas and Katy waved to me, and I smiled at them through the window.

  When Cacey and Uri got back to the car, Cacey opened the rear door and leaned in to me, like she was saying something. “Get in,” she told Caspian. He slid beside me, and I couldn’t stop smiling.

  “You’re back!” I said. “What happened? You wouldn’t wake up—”

  “Are you okay? Did anything happen? Did Vincent hurt you?” he said at the same time.

  He laughed and moved one hand closer, across the seat. I moved my hand closer to his, too, and felt the buzzing sensation.

  “Were you with Cacey and Uri?” he asked.

  “Yes. They took me with them to look for someone. But he wasn’t there. W
ere you with Nikolas and Katy again?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How long did it take for you to wake up?”

  “I don’t know.” He glanced down.

  Uri put the car into gear. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s get you guys back home.” Then he grinned at me. “You didn’t mind our little detour, did you, Abbey?”

  “Nope. Not at all.”

  We shared a smile, and he actually looked a bit bashful.

  “So, what do we do if this happens again?” I said as we drove. “Do I just call one of you?”

  “We’re going to be around more,” Uri said. “All of us.”

  “That sounds more like a threat than a promise,” Caspian whispered after they dropped us off at home and we walked up to the front door.

  I laughed. “I think it’s a little bit of both.”

  We went inside, and I called out, “Hi. I’m home.”

  I knew Mom was doing something in the kitchen because I heard her banging around. She caught up to me when I was almost all the way up the stairs. “How was your girls’ weekend?” she asked.

  “It was okay. Cacey got sick, so we didn’t do much.” Technically almost true.

  “That’s too bad. You’ll have to plan another one soon.” She turned away, then turned back. “Oh! Aunt Marjorie called while you were gone.”

  “She did? Why didn’t you have her call my cell?”

  “I didn’t want to interrupt you guys. Just call her back when you get the chance.”

  “I will.”

  Crossing into my room, I tossed my overnight bag onto the floor. My bed looked super comfy, and it was calling my name. “Nap time?” I said suggestively to Caspian. “The bed I slept in last night was pretty crappy.” He followed me over and I flopped down, rolling to one side. He lay down too, facing me.

  We both lay there for a while, communicating silently. I love you, I wanted to say. I missed you. Eventually I settled for “Hi.”

  “Hi.” He put out a finger and went to trace my arm. I felt the slow hum all the way down.

  “That was pretty scary when you went to sleep like that,” I said.

  “I know. For me, too.”

  “What was it like this time? Was it different?”

  “Not really. Just deeper.”

  “Like you couldn’t wake up?”

  “Yeah. Like I wouldn’t ever wake up.”

  “What are we going to do?” I asked, looking deeply into his eyes. “About this. About us …” I put one hand up and made a frustrated gesture.

  “I don’t know. Wait? See what happens?”

  “How long can we wait? How long can we go on like this?” I closed my eyes. “I’m scared of something changing. I’m scared of what it means when you fall into this sleep that feels like you’ll never wake up from.”

  “Are you scared of me?”

  “No!” My eyes flew open. “Why would I be scared of you?”

  “Because of me.” He moved his hand, and it went through mine. “Who I am. What I am.”

  “You can’t help that. You are what you are.” I propped my hand under my head. “It’s funny, though. Uri and I were talking about the same thing today. We went to this insane asylum that used to be a prison.”

  “They took you to an insane asylum?” He looked shocked.

  “Well, more of a mental health institute now. But, yeah. It wasn’t really all that bad.”

  “I can’t believe they took you there. Especially after …”

  “After what happened when I went to go stay with Aunt Marjorie? And seeing Dr. Pendleton?” I said.

  “It seems a bit insensitive,” Caspian replied.

  “I don’t think they meant it that way. They didn’t seem to think anything of it. It’s hard for them. They’re here only part of the time.” I told him what Uri had said about the white energy space, and what happened when they got their assignments.

  “So there are more of us?” he said. “More Shades?”

  “I didn’t get an exact count, but it didn’t sound like many. And they come at different times. It just happens when it happens.”

  He looked at me intently. “I’m glad they made us in twos, then.”

  My cheeks felt warm, and I looked down. “I thought I saw another Shade today,” I said. “At the asylum. There was a girl there, and she mentioned having a friend die. Then she said she could see my color. It was kind of spooky. Turns out she was a patient. Had a mental breakdown.”

  “And you thought it could have been you,” he guessed. “That you could have been that girl.”

  Sadness filled me. “Yeah. I did. She just looked so lost and alone. I wanted to help her, but I couldn’t. It was … tough to see.”

  “She’ll get the help she needs if she’s in there. It’s the right place for her.”

  “How do we know what the right place is? For any of us? She didn’t ask to be put in an insane asylum. She didn’t ask to have a mental breakdown. It just seems so unfair. So random. None of us really have a choice in life.”

  “Are we still talking about her?” he asked gently. “Or you?”

  “Her. Me. Don’t you get it? We’re both the same.”

  He leaned in closer. He was almost right on top of me. “No. You’re not the same. For one thing, she doesn’t have me.”

  A little laugh bubbled out of me. “Ego much?” But I smiled so he knew I was teasing.

  “No, I don’t mean it like that. I mean that she doesn’t have me to love her. You do.”

  Love. Love. Love. The word spun around in my brain and made me feel all fizzy in there. Closing my eyes, I nestled closer to him. Not touching, but close. Oh, so close. “November first, November first, November first,” I chanted. “Please come fast.”

  I called Aunt Marjorie back after dinner that night. Caspian was up in my room, and I sat down on the porch to make the call.

  “Hi, Aunt Marjorie. It’s Abbey,” I said. “How are you?”

  “Well, bust my britches! I’m great! How are you, sweetie?”

  I had to cover up the receiver so I could laugh. “I’m good, Aunt Marjorie.”

  “School start yet?”

  “Oh, yeah. They finally reassigned Kristen’s locker this year and gave it to someone new.”

  She made a disapproving sound. “That must be hard to see.”

  “It was, at first. But now it’s a little easier. The girl, Cyn, is really nice. That makes it better.”

  “How did your summer schoolwork go?”

  “Good. I passed my science test.” That was the unexciting part of the end of summer. I couldn’t tell her the other part, about Vincent. “Are you taking your plane out anymore? Or is it too cold?”

  “She’s still going up. Not as often, though. I have to keep an eye on the engine and make sure the block heater doesn’t get too cold. It’s a bitch to unfreeze midflight.”

  I laughed. “Aunt Marj, you are the coolest aunt ever.”

  “I try,” she said. “So how are the other things? Fitting into your hole again?”

  “My hole?”

  “Round peg, square hole? It’s a metaphor for life. If you’re the square peg in a square hole, you fit back in.”

  That makes sense in a strange sort of way. Aunt Marjorie logic. “Actually,” I said, “yeah. I am finding my place.”

  “See? I knew you would. And you were worried about going back.”

  “You were right. And I can honestly say, I wouldn’t be the same person if I hadn’t come back.”

  “Then, everything was meant to be.”

  “Hey, Aunt Marjorie,” I said, “if I don’t ever get the chance again, I just wanted to tell you how much I really appreciate everything you did for me. Especially the advice about love and being sure and all that. My head is a lot clearer now, and I can make decisions easier. So, thanks.”

  “Decisions?” she said. “Planning something?”

  “More so, just now I know what I need to do. And I’m at peace with that.”


  “Are we talking about being at peace with ourselves because we are strong, individual, confident women who don’t need men, or are we talking about being at peace with a decision that involves something drastic?” She sounded alarmed.

  “I don’t know what you mean by drastic, but it’s the right choice for me.”

  “Abbey, you’ve discussed this with other people, right? Talked to someone else about it?”

  “Well, yeah, actually, but it didn’t work. They don’t understand me. I tried to talk to Mom and Dad, but they just got upset.”

  “You can talk to me. Please talk to me. You have other options. This is a serious decision! I know it might seem like the world is ending now, but there’s more in store for you. Just hold on. Some boy isn’t worth it!”

  “Worth what?”

  Now she sounded flustered. “Are—aren’t you talking about hurting yourself? Because a boy dumped you?”

  I know I shouldn’t have laughed, but I did. “Um, no. That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No, Aunt Marjorie. I’m talking about having a clearer idea of where my life is headed. For the future.”

  “Oh.” Relief flooded her voice. “Oh, that’s good. Very, very good.”

  I shook my head at the phone. Hurting myself because a boy dumped me? I don’t know where she’d gotten that from. “Okay, then. So are we good? All clear?”

  “All clear.”

  “I’ll call you again soon.”

  “Okay, sweetie. Talk later.”

  I tucked my phone away and looked up. It was a beautiful night out, with clear skies and a big silvery moon. But there weren’t any stars.

  Getting up, I dusted off my jeans and headed back inside. Luckily, I had my own set of stars. And someone to look at them with.

  The letter from Aunt Marjorie came two days after our phone call, and I realized she must have written it pretty much right after I’d called her. I found it in the mailbox when I got home from school, and sat down on the front steps to read it.