A World Divided

by Rebekah Clipper

  Her parents loved Elise more than anything, but he had always gotten a sense of disapproval from her dad. If it hadn’t been for him, she could have gone to school and found someone with a better future to provide for her and her children.

  After a few moments Lisa pushed away from him and looked into his eyes. Her clear blue eyes shined with her tears, but she managed to muster a radiant smile. He had always liked Lisa. She was whimsical and light-hearted. For the entire time he’d known her, she was always working on new and creative passions. She was incredibly artistic and always donated her art to charitable causes. Henry was sure she could make a tremendous amount of money selling her creations, but she would not hear of it. Once, he had even consulted her about it. She waved him off with a laugh and said, “Henry, my husband has provided us with all of the money we will need to live out our lives comfortably. I have no need to profit from what I love to do. It would taint the experience for me.”

  She did currently work part time at the quilt shop in town. As she had pointed out, they didn’t need the money, but it made her feel good. Henry had gone into the shop on multiple occasions and found her surrounded by customers who were enthralled with whatever she was demonstrating. Technically, it wasn’t her job to educate them, but no one there ever tried to stop her. She worked with her friends and made new friends easily with customers, ensuring repeat business.

  After a few moments of quiet conversation, Alexander grabbed his wife’s arm and beckoned her to the coffee area. They didn’t return to Henry after that, so he sat alone with his ever-darkening thoughts until finally the detective arrived. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Caitlin’s parents walk swiftly up to Detective Stathem. They exchanged hushed words with him and then were ushered away by another police officer into a back room.

  Detective Stathem set his attention on Henry and beckoned him. Henry stood and followed. He was led into a small room at the back of the station. Absently, Henry noticed a small camera mounted in one corner as he sat in yet another uncomfortable orange chair.

  “Henry,” Detective Stathem said, as he closed the door to the room behind him, “I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that we aren’t going to be charging you tonight for evading the police. No one was hurt, and no property was damaged. We understand you were under a lot of stress, so you can be forgiven in your lack of judgment.” Richard walked to the other chair in the room, turned it backward, and sat with his chest against the back of the seat. He put his elbows down on the table in front of him and leaned forward slightly. “The bad news is we can now say for certain some sort of altercation took place in your home.”

  Henry’s heart ached. He had already known that was the case but hearing it out loud killed him inside. “Did you find them?” he asked, fearing the answer would be yes. They were found but no longer alive.

  “Unfortunately, they weren’t found within the house. We did a sweep of the property and couldn’t find evidence of them or the dog being there. Naturally, a more thorough investigation is still currently going on, but I wanted to get back to have a conversation with you. Now, Henry, you said you were out with a colleague.” He stopped there, clearly waiting for a response.

  “Yes, my boss. Dr. Karen Watson. We went over to Macgill’s just after work and were there for a couple of hours. She left about twenty minutes before I did.”

  “Mm-hm,” Richard replied, writing in a small notebook. “And during this time, you told me you received a phone call but chose to ignore it, because you thought it was your wife.”

  “That’s correct,” Henry responded, irritated by the line of questioning.

  “How did you become aware it was, in fact, your daughter who called you?”

  “She left a voice message for me. I didn’t listen to it until I left the bar.” Henry felt as though he was being attacked and answered more defensively than he normally would.

  “Do you have your phone available for me to take a listen?”

  “Yes… yes, of course.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and entered the code for his voicemail. The tone of his daughter’s voice filled him with so much pain and anxiety he feared he would break down and run from the room. Her shrill shrieks were cut off by the end of the message. He looked up at the detective, but the other man’s face was unreadable. It was as if he heard girls screaming for help every day of his life. The lack of emotion sent Henry into a rage. “What the hell are we still doing here?” he shouted. “We need to be out there, searching for my family. I want you to take me home at once! I need to be looking for them.”

  Henry began to rise out of his chair, but Detective Stathem put a hand on his arm to stop him. “I understand your frustration, Henry. If I were in your position I would be going out of my mind with worry. At this time, I cannot take you home. Your house is an active crime scene, and unfortunately, I cannot allow you to enter it until our forensics team has completed their evaluation. The best thing for you to do is just calm down, so we can move forward with our investigation. I promise you this takes top priority for me and my team. A missing persons case is not something we take lightly, especially with a child involved.”

  Henry had to put effort into not punching the detective for telling him to calm down. Rationally, he knew the other man was right. Going off half-cocked into the night was not going to be beneficial for anyone. Still, he felt like he was betraying his daughter and his wife just sitting in this room talking. And it angered him to no end this man was so well-collected under the circumstances.

  After a long moment, Henry forced himself to sit back in his chair. “Just tell me what you’ve found so far.”

  “It doesn’t appear anyone forced their way into the house. Considering our officers were able to enter the front door without requiring a key or force, we are assuming the door had been unlocked and the alleged intruder just walked in.”

  Henry didn’t like the way he had said “alleged intruder,” but he chose not to interrupt.

  “Most of the house looks untouched in our preliminary investigation. Of course, when the scene is released by our forensics team, we will have you do a walk through to determine if anything is missing or out of place.”

  Besides my family, you mean, Henry thought, sourly.

  “Upon reaching the main bathroom, signs of a disturbance became evident. The family room is completely flooded. The bath was running at full force and the fixtures were badly damaged. It looked like an altercation took place in there. We found trace evidence of blood. It’s hard to determine if there was more with the water contamination at the scene. We’ll have the blood analyzed at the lab. Do you know what blood types your daughter and wife have?”

  “They’re both A positive,” Henry said, his tongue feeling weighted.

  “And what about yours?” Richard asked, sounding bored.

  “I don’t see why that’s relevant.” Henry was not liking the way the conversation was going.

  “Please just answer the question. It’s all a part of the process. You know how this goes, Henry. I’m required to get all information. The more information I have the faster and more accurately I can assess the situation.”

  “AB negative,” Henry responded.

  The line of questioning continued into the early hours of the morning. Henry felt as though he answered the same questions dozens of times, as if he were in an interrogation. He wondered more than once if he was a suspect in the disappearance of his family, but he chose not to ask. Finally, around 2:00 a.m., Detective Stathem told him he was free to go to the hotel of his choice, since his home was still closed to civilians. He implored Henry not to go searching that night, because he had no way of knowing where to start. He would call Henry as soon as the house was released, so they could do a walk through together.

  Henry had done what he was told. He tried to sleep, but it evaded him. Images of his wife and daughter flashed through his mind. In his head Arthur broke into their home and viciously attacked his family. That was
not the case, of course. One of the first things the police did was contact the prison to verify that scumbag was safe and sound in his cell. Even so, the man’s slicked-back black hair and hooked nose haunted Henry’s mind. As the hours slowly crept by, he envisioned more and more inhumane acts being committed against his family. More than once he had to run to the bathroom to vomit.

  Hours passed, and slowly natural light made its way through the cracks in the filigree patterned, tan and green hotel curtains. He stared at his phone, waiting impatiently for the call from the detective informing him he could do something more than lay in that god forsaken bed. Finally, the silence became so penetrating he turned the television on for background noise. At first the program filtered through his ears without sticking, until he heard the name “Arthur Sokolov.” He perked up and looked at the TV. The reporter from the previous night filled the screen, her black hair cut straight at her shoulders and bangs swept to the right side of her face. Her deep brown eyes were staring at the camera, as if she were looking directly at him.

  “…Police have not released details of what happened at the residence of Caitlin Kowalski, but an unidentified source did reveal to our news team that both Mrs. Kowalski and her young daughter were involved in a home invasion early Friday night. Our team was on scene just as the police were setting up a perimeter.” The scene shifted to the woman the previous night. Police were stretching out yellow tape and just beyond them Henry could see himself being taken out of the police car to talk with Detective Stathem. The woman began reporting on the scene, but Henry didn’t want to hear it, so he changed the channel.

  The television flashed blue with a “no signal” banner momentarily but cleared quickly. A blonde woman was walking toward a large body of water. Her face was away from the camera, but Henry absently noted how similar her body shape was to Caitlin’s. The woman bent down in front of water with her hands outstretched, a large white moose making an appearance off to her left. Just then Henry’s phone rang, and he turned away from the television.

  Detective Stathem’s gruff voice came on the line. “Good morning, Henry. The techs have just released your home. I’ll meet you down there in twenty minutes.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right there.” Henry grabbed his jacket and left the room. He hadn’t bothered to turn off the TV, which showed the blonde woman being encircled with long tentacles and dragged into the large lake.

  Chapter Nine

  Caitlin

  Caitlin followed the woman away from the lake, shock clouding her thoughts. They walked in silence until Caitlin was able to think clearly. It all seemed so unreal, but she’d made the connection she wasn’t stuck in an elaborate dream as the Boolah pulled her toward its gaping maw. The pain was real. The lack of oxygen had brought her to the brink of unconsciousness.

  The circumstances prior to her waking up in the meadow came sharply into focus. She hadn’t been alone in that bathroom as the water rose up to her thighs. Elise! Her mind suddenly went into overdrive. Elise was in the bathroom with me. What happened to her? Terror constricted her chest. “My daughter!” Caitlin said out loud. The woman raised her finger in response. “Please. My daughter was with me just before I came here. I need to know if she’s okay.” She stomped her foot and crossed her arms around her soggy blouse.

  The old woman turned, her scowl intensifying the lines that pocked her face. She walked back to Caitlin, having to look up to meet her eyes. Even though the woman’s bent frame was shorter than her own, Caitlin felt the need to cower under those penetrating gray eyes. It took all her will-power not to take a step back. The woman whacked Caitlin’s arm with her cane and said, “Shut up, silly girl. We will be home shortly. I’ll look into your missing offspring when we get there.” With that she turned and continued forward.

  Caitlin stood dumbfounded for a moment. The large moose stepped into her and ran his enormous, slimy tongue against her cheek. “Oh, yuck!”

  Letting out a small puff of air, she picked up her feet and continued following the woman. Her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of her young daughter. Caitlin silently prayed that Elise hadn’t been transported here, wherever here was, since she hadn’t been in the meadow with Caitlin. She hoped desperately Henry made it home to their daughter.

  Guilt flickered. She’d already caused the two of them so much heartache. It was obvious daily that her actions weighed heavily on her husband and daughter. Yet, she was unable to release the anger inside her. She tried to push herself past it, and sometimes she really believed she would be able to move on. Then a sound or a smell would pull her back into those moments of helplessness, and she would become so furious for allowing herself to get into that position. She would spiral mentally out of control, and it would take everything inside her not to scream. Sometimes when she was alone in the house, she would scream and scream and then sob into a pillow, admonishing herself for being so weak.

  Her thoughts were pulled back to the trial when her lawyer had been laying out his evidence. The police had pried open the closet door of the lavender room. Inside was a plethora of torture devices, she assumed meant for use on her. The lawyer had been picking away at Arthur’s character in the court room, with the testimonies from his ex-wife and other previous lovers who had come forward. Not many agreed to testify against him, but the ones who did painted the picture of a psychopath on the brink of collapse.

  When the lawyer placed the catalogued items onto the table in front of him, Caitlin nearly blacked out from shock. Next to the ball gag and leather ropes was a box of wicked looking, sharp, curved knives ranging in size from slightly larger than a switchblade to just shy of a cleaver. Each one had a blood-red handle and tiny inscriptions covering the blade. Caitlin hadn’t had to fortitude to ask what they said. More and more items were placed next to the blades, each item clearly meant to cause irrevocable pain, but her eyes strayed back to the knives. It felt as though evil emanated from them.

  She was just thinking she could really use a cigarette when the visual cortex of her brain finally informed her a small cottage stood directly in front of her. It was on a large rock base that appeared to be one giant slab of rose quartz. The roof was thatched with dry reeds. Caitlin vaguely recalled seeing the same plants in bright shades of greens surrounding the lake. They had faded to a dull brown on the cottage roof. The roof had a circular design culminating in a chimney at the apex made from the same pinkish stone that made up the base. The siding of the home was made from planks of the pine wood that grew abundantly around the cottage. Roughly cut steps led to the front door which hung open, large windows flanking it on either side.

  She stopped for a moment at the threshold of the cottage. Her father’s voice echoed in her mind, reminding her not to go with strangers. Look at what had happened the last time, and this time she would not have anywhere to run to. Oscar stepped up behind her and softly nudged her shoulder. His warm breath on the nape of her neck soothed her. She may not trust the old woman, but for some reason she had utter faith in the creature behind her. It was irrational, but she didn’t care. She needed strength, and he provided it for her. Reaching up, she scratched his chin and then entered the rounded building.

  Directly to her left was a wall with a door shaped hole carved into it. Caitlin took this to be the front hall closet. Her brilliant deduction was reinforced with several pairs of battered shoes lying on the floor. The leather items looked like they would fit her own feet comfortably. Looking down at her bare feet, she decided to try to convince the old woman to give her a pair. She didn’t know what she could give in return or if the sour woman would even be willing to part them.

  She sighed and turned to her right, following a curved hallway into a large interior room. It was a combination living room, dining room, and kitchen. A vast fireplace took up the center of the room with mismatched seating on one side and countertops on the other. A wooden dining table sat directly beside the fireplace. Each of the six chairs surrounding it looked as though they had been carv
ed by hand. The table was fashioned from one gigantic pine tree, with two enormous legs on either side holding up the massive weight. Caitlin decided someone had carved the table first and then built the cottage around it, because she couldn’t imagine how anyone could have carried it in.

  She looked into the small kitchen where the old woman was putting different ingredients into a large pot suspended over a small fire pit. A black metallic pipe leading to the ceiling, much smaller than the fireplace chimney, hung above the cooking area. Caitlin was amazed there had been enough time to produce the flames that licked the bottom of the pot while she had been making brief observations.

  “You said you could help me find my daughter if she’s here.” She hadn’t meant to be so abrupt, but tension had been percolating in her abdomen since the moment her brain had caught up with her after the lake incident.

  The woman looked at her as if she had momentarily forgotten Caitlin was there, and then with a large spoon, she indicated a door just behind the dining set. The spoon appeared to be made from the same plastic polymer that Caitlin used at home. The kitchen was filled with appliances Caitlin hadn’t expected to see. Before she could really take it all in, the woman said, “Go in there and get your clothes changed. There should be something in your size.” She then returned to her meal prep.

  “But—”

  The woman held a finger up, effectively stalling Caitlin’s tongue. “Go change. These things take time and you’re dirtying up my floor.”