A World Divided

by Rebekah Clipper

  Alexander looked at the small black box Henry held in front of him, still emanating the voices of the NPR correspondents. “Slow down, son. Who did you hear?”

  “Elise! She thought someone was dead. I don’t know who. Maybe Caitlin.” As the words came out Henry could hear just how insane he sounded. “I know how this sounds, Alex, but I swear I heard her.”

  The older man looked thoughtful and said, “I believe you think you heard her, Henry, but you’re extremely stressed out and exhausted. I think it’s more probable you just nodded off for a minute in the shower.”

  “I swear I… I don’t know. She sounded so real,” Henry said, conceding that Alexander was more than likely correct. “I think I’m losing it.”

  “You’re dealing with extreme circumstances,” Alexander said. “We all are. I swore I heard her little voice more than once while I was searching in the woods. It’s perfectly natural for you to have some extreme reactions at a time like this. I would find it very strange if you were acting as you normally do. Now get dressed, and we’ll head out, okay? I’m going to change in the spare room.”

  “Okay,” Henry said, feeling despondent. After his father-in-law left the room, he shut the bedroom door and finished drying himself off. Unease gnawed at the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t get past the fact that his daughter’s voice had sounded so crisp and real. Her words continued to play in his head as he donned his business casual attire for the press conference. Who had she thought was dead? Where had she and the dog been, and who were the other women he had heard talking? And why was he asking himself those questions, since it had all been an auditory hallucination anyway?

  He splashed water from the sink onto his face and headed out of his bedroom. Alexander was already waiting for him in the car. It was a mint condition 1992 silver Acura NSX with less than 50,000 miles on the odometer. Henry’s jaw had dropped the first time he saw Alexander pull up in it. It had been Alexander’s retirement gift to himself. He confessed it had been his dream car since its release date, but he could never justify spending that kind of money on a vehicle. However, with the early retirement incentive, and express permission from his wife, he decided to splurge. Henry didn’t see him drive it often, so generally it was a great treat on the rare occasions he got to see it. Even with everything going on, the car still was one heck of a sight.

  Henry opened the passenger side door and slid into the seat. “Jeez, this still has that new car smell. That’s pretty impressive for a car that’s almost as old as your daughter.”

  “They have air fresheners that give off that impression nowadays. Let’s go get this bullshit over with, so we can focus on finding our girls.”

  They took off, and before any time had passed, pulled up about a block from the police station. It would be easier for them to exit from that location than if they tried to park right up front. Henry could already see a large group of people heading toward the station and began to feel ill. The news stations had been reporting on the disappearance of his family since the previous night. He was told an amber alert had been placed and people were already out searching, but he had not been able to comprehend what a spectacle the press conference would be until he faced it with his own eyes.

  Alexander placed a hand on Henry’s shoulder and gently guided him toward the station. Officer Clemmens was on the perimeter of the crowd. When he saw the two men walking up, he raised a hand in greeting and approached to escort them the rest of the way inside. A few individuals tried to ask questions of the trio, but they kept walking until they made it to a side door of the station.

  Inside, Lisa sat waiting on one of the uncomfortable orange chairs. She wore a bright, multicolored summer dress, and her makeup was perfectly in place. She rose out of the chair when she saw the men and walked over to wrap her arms around her husband.

  “I just want this to be over,” Lisa said into Alexander’s shoulder.

  “I know, my love. I know.” Alexander held his wife close to him and stroked her back several times until she loosened her grip. She took a step back, gave her husband a quick peck on the lips, and turned to Henry.

  “Oh, Henry,” was all she said before she wrapped her arms around him. Her embrace filled him with contentment like he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Her presence seemed to heal something inside of him. He was afraid her comfort would open a floodgate of other emotions he could not explore at that time. He squeezed her tightly for a moment and then released her with a kiss on her cheek.

  “Hi, Lisa,” he said, holding her by her shoulders at arm’s length. He looked into the same blue eyes her daughter had inherited and noticed the red capillaries. She had been crying recently. He didn’t know how she was holding her composure now, but he respected her strength.

  Detective Stathem walked up to them. “I see you didn’t take my advice. It’s a good thing you clean up fairly well,” he said, shaking Henry’s hand.

  “Any updates?” Henry asked.

  “Unfortunately, not at this time,” the detective replied. “We’ll discuss it more after this mess is done.”

  Henry wasn’t sure what they were going to discuss but held his tongue. If he said anything it would come out vindictive. Instead, he just said, “Yeah, okay.”

  “We will all go out there together,” said Detective Stathem, “and I’ll give a short rundown of the events as we know them right now. I want you to appeal to our alleged intruder. Try to humanize your wife and daughter. You don’t have to talk for long. We’re offering a ten-thousand-dollar reward for information that leads to the direct return of your family or the apprehension of the alleged intruder.”

  “Make it fifty thousand,” said Alexander, “and stop referring to that asshole as the ‘alleged’ intruder. I saw the damage. Someone broke into my daughter’s home and physically attacked them in that bathroom.”

  “Sir…” the detective started.

  “Just stop.” Henry was taken aback by the look on his father-in-law’s face. He’d never seen the quiet rage simmering behind the man’s eyes before. Alexander continued, “As you said, we will discuss this more later. Is there anything else we need to know, or can we get this over with?”

  Detective Stathem stuttered slightly. He took a moment, collected himself and said, “We are currently keeping the information about the phone message in house as well as the exact state of the interior of Mr. Kowalski’s home. We believe that information could be useful in apprehending the… culprit.”

  “Very well, let’s go then.” Mr. Baxter held his hand out to his wife and started toward the front doors as soon as her hand was secured by his. Henry trailed along behind them. As they reached the front doors, they stood aside for Detective Stathem to walk out in front of them.

  Henry walked out into the sunshine to a cacophony of sound. Reporters from every news outlet he knew, and some he didn’t, were pressed together in a roped off area directly in front of a podium with more microphones on it than Henry thought necessary. To either side of the reporters, members of the public stood noisily talking, their words intermingling into an incomprehensible hum. Henry scanned the crowd, spotting familiar faces. Some of them were friendly but some were not. Miriam Conway was standing as close to the stage as she could. She saw his eyes on her and gave him a malicious grin. Henry gripped his fists tightly but stood his ground.

  Detective Stathem began the press conference with a succinct explanation of what had occurred. He commended the hundreds of volunteers who had been diligently searching for the lost girls and urged the public to continue to assist. More than once he mentioned how time was a factor. He explained they had no definite suspect, but they were redoubling their efforts in searching for Arthur Sokolov’s accomplice in the assault of Mrs. Kowalski. “Caitlin and Elise Kowalski’s family would like to say a few words at this time. Please hold all questions until they have said their piece. Thank you.” The detective stepped aside and motioned for Henry to take his place.

  Henry stepped up to t
he podium. “Thank you, Detective Stathem. I would like to first express my appreciation to everyone who has been looking for my wife and daughter. You will never know how much it means to us to know that have an entire community who will help us in our time of need—"

  Just then Mariam Conway’s voice pierced above the crowd. “Your whore of a wife probably kidnapped your daughter, and you’re just too blind to see it.” To Henry’s dismay, several members of the audience murmured their agreement. He cleared his throat to continue talking when his mother-in-law ran down the stairs to Mariam and punched her directly in the nose. The red-headed woman fell back against the spectators around her, who stopped her from falling all the way to the ground. Blood flowed freely from what was surely a broken nose. Alexander grabbed onto his wife before she was able to get another strike in and pulled her back.

  Chaos erupted as the reporters and their cameramen ran to be the first to capture the insanity unfolding in front of them. Henry was unsure what he should do. He was contemplating wading out into the crowd when Alexander pushed his way through, Lisa in tow. She was shouting obscenities Henry had never heard pass her lips before. As they went by, Alexander thrust his keys into the younger man’s hands and said, “Just take my car and go. I’ll take care of this. You don’t want to get caught in the middle of it.”

  Miriam’s high-pitched wails rose from the center of the undulating sea of reporters as Henry turned to make his escape. The cry of ambulance sirens rang out less than a block away. Henry thought that was overkill. The woman had a broken nose, not a heart attack.

  Sandra Cho was the only reporter who tried to stop him as he fled the scene. He could hear the question in her voice but chose to ignore her; even though doing so would guarantee him a spot on the evening news. He didn’t care.

  Henry rushed home where he regained his composure and then made his way out into the woods to search for his daughter and wife. He continued his fruitless investigation until well after the sun had gone down. Finally, exhaustion overtook him, and he returned home where he collapsed into bed. He promptly passed out in his dirty clothing.

  Several hours later the television in his bedroom came to life…

  The scene opened up from a first-person perspective. A woman looked down at her body, which was draped in fine silks in a range of oranges and yellows. She held her hands in front of the camera. The hands were small and showed signs of callusing. They indicated frequent use, which was contrary to the fine clothing she wore. A ring on her left hand was the only ornamentation. From the angle of her hands it was impossible to tell if the ring held any stones. All the audience could see was a small silver band.

  The camera panned up to show a hallway. The walls were made from large, mostly rectangular blocks of granite. No two blocks were quite the same, but they were fitted together expertly. The ceiling above was well over the head of the unseen character in an esthetically pleasing arch, and the floor was covered with an expansive red carpet trimmed in silver accents. Tapestries hung on either side of the hallway, bringing warmth to a space that looked as though it should feel cold.

  The camera moved closer the tapestry on the right. The design depicted a mighty battle. A large castle sat atop a mountain with huge spires that reached the top of the image without peaks. A woman stood on the top of one of the parapets surrounding the castle. The weaver had taken liberties with perspective, because the woman stood as tall as the castle itself. She wore flowing silver robes that looked to be caught in a gust of wind. Her black hair was braided and hung down her right shoulder, closest to the outside observer. Her arms were held straight in front of her with light blue wisps that looked like light emanating from her finger tips.

  The creature the blue light was aimed toward resembled a gigantic parrot. It faced the audience with three large eyes; two where eyes should be and a third in the center of its forehead. Plumage in all colors of the rainbow cascaded down its body.

  Another creature crept up on the woman, who was too preoccupied with the foe in front of her to notice the danger behind. It had a canine body with three tails and a head that resembled a prehistoric lizard. Its body was pure blood red with a black streak from the tip of its nose to the tips of its tails. It had one paw raised above its head, ready to strike down on the woman in front of it. Its lips were pulled back into a snarl, displaying overly large and sharp teeth.

  At the bottom of the tapestry was an army of other creatures. Their features were not nearly as well defined as the three above them. Some were very human in shape while some were something other. They all marched toward the castle where the lone woman fought. Fires sprang up behind the horde, leaving hillsides blazing. The clouds in the pink sky were white on their tops and a deluge of color from the fires blazing below. The intensely intricate stitching seemed to tell the story of a final grand battle.

  The camera quickly turned away and looked back and forth down the hallway. Faintly, a man’s voice could be heard somewhere off screen. It was too quiet to discern the words, but the woman moved quickly toward it. As she moved down the hallway his words finally made sense. “Caitlin? Are you here?”

  “I’m here, Henry,” she said, her voice clear. “Where are you?”

  Henry swiftly got off his bed and walked up to the television set. “Caitlin!” he called. “That’s not me.” He put his hand on the screen.

  The image flashed around as if she were looking over her shoulder, but a voice pulled her attention back. “Caitlin, oh God! I can’t believe I found you.” A man walked up to her. It was Henry. His brown curls were long and pulled back from his face. He wore a simple cotton shirt and tight leather pants.

  Arms wrapped themselves around the stranger with Henry’s face. “I’ve been so scared.” Caitlin’s voice came out ragged, as if she were holding back tears.

  “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here now,” the man told her. His hand moved up to the image. “Where is Elise?”

  “That’s not me, Caitlin,” Henry shouted at the screen.

  “What was that?” she asked, the view swiveling.

  “Nothing.”

  “But I thought…”

  Before she could continue speaking, the man’s face leaned in again. “It’s just your imagination. Now tell me, where is Elise?”

  “I don’t know. There was an old witch. She showed me an image of our daughter, but I couldn’t get to her,” Caitlin said. “Something funny happened when I saw her, but before I knew what was going on, I blacked out and ended up here. How did you get here? You weren’t in the house with us.”

  “It’s too hard to explain right now,” the imposter told her. “Right now, it is imperative that we find our daughter.”

  The image scanned down, showing the man’s hand grabbing onto Caitlin’s. “Let’s find somewhere to sit down, and you can describe what you saw to me. Maybe we can find her together,” he said pulling Henry’s wife forward.

  “Okay,” she replied.

  They moved quickly down the hallway together until they reached an intimate room with an overstuffed brown loveseat and an impressive fireplace. The image lowered slightly until Caitlin’s face was visible in an ornate mirror across from her. Her long hair was elegantly braided around the crown of her head. Her blue eyes sparkled in their reflection, and her slender face was frowning slightly. She moved her head closer toward the mirror. “Henry?” she said, staring intently at her own reflection.

  “Yes, it’s me! Don’t trust him. I’m still at home,” Henry said, sure now she could hear him.

  “Yes, my love?” said the imposter at the same time.

  Caitlin’s jaw dropped, and she turned her head away from the mirror. “You’re not my husband. Who are you?” she cried, the image of the other man getting further away.

  “It’s me, Caitlin,” he said, moving toward her.

  “You’re lying! Get away from me.”

  “I swear, it’s me,” the man said, inching closer and closer.

  “What was my best frie
nd’s name in high school?” she asked.

  The man stopped, staring at her. He opened his mouth to say something, stopped, and shook his head, laughing ever so slightly. “This could have been so much more pleasant for you.” As he spoke his features began shifting. His long hair straightened and darkened. His nose elongated and hooked, and his eyes shifted from hazel to an intense green.

  “Run, Caitlin, run!” Henry shouted to his wife through the television screen.

  The image turned away from Arthur Sokolov and began bouncingly retreating the direction she had come. Images blurred by too swiftly to be seen. The view turned to the left into a darkened room. Her ragged breaths were barely audible in the blackness.

  “It will be okay, baby,” Henry whispered, afraid anything louder would bring the attention of the pursuer.

  Several moments passed when the room suddenly illuminated. Caitlin screamed as the image of Arthur flooded the screen. The view turned back and forth filled with a view of lavender and flowers before it was pitched back to an equally lavender ceiling. Arthur came into view again holding above his head a curved blade covered in glowing inscriptions. “I can feel your power. It is intoxicating.” As he spoke the blade dipped out of view and came back up with red blood dripping from its tip.

  “No, please!” Caitlin screamed.

  “Oh, honey, don’t worry. We will find that little girl together,” he said, grinning insanely.

  “No!” Henry shouted as the screen went blank.

  Chapter Twelve

  Caitlin

  Caitlin awoke screaming. Her body was soaked in sweat, and pain lanced down her right forearm. She thrashed about trying to escape her attacker when it finally dawned on her she wasn’t in the lavender room. Her heart was pounding as if she had just run a marathon and tears streamed down her face. A resounding crash made her jump as a gigantic beast came barreling through the doorway in front of her.

  Oscar looked around wild eyed, the splintered door and frame covering his shaggy, white fur. Caitlin jumped from her bed and wrapped her arms around his warm, fuzzy neck. She buried her head into his shoulder and cried loudly. The beast brought his head down and nuzzled her cheek.