by Cole Baxter
I wasn’t going to argue the point any further. I decided to change the subject and go back to Jacob.
“So, you’ve known Jacob for as long as I have. Has he always been this protective, or has he reached a whole new level?”
“I’ve noticed,” she replied, rubbing her temples. “I don’t always know if he’s the best choice of a friend to have by your side at this particular moment.”
“He’s all I’ve got,” I replied.
“I guess.” My mom sighed. “No, I think he’s being a little more overbearing than usual. He’s a nice enough guy, but he needs to take it down a notch.”
“But you think he’s always been a little high-strung?”
My mom let out a laugh like a bark. “I always thought it was a little strange that a boy his age would ever have anything to do with a little girl. You were only in middle school when we moved next door to his parents. But, I got to know his parents over the years and they’re great people. It kind of made me feel like it was okay to let you two hang out.”
“You’ve never told me this before,” I said, surprised by this revelation. “I didn’t know that you had any doubts about our friendship.”
“It’s a mother’s job,” she said shortly. “I may not have told you that I was looking into anyone you spent time with as a kid, but I certainly did my research. Remember that boy I forbade you to date in high school?”
“John Moriarty?”
“I heard that he had a reputation for getting a little too handsy with other girls. I wasn’t going to let my daughter earn a bad reputation because of him.”
I chuckled to myself. Perhaps I didn’t give my mom enough credit.
“Did Jacob give you reason to vet him? I just remember one day I was playing in the yard and he was there.”
“I remember that day well. You were rollerblading around the driveway and I was in the kitchen. I looked out the window to see some high school boy talking to you. I nearly stormed out right that moment to yell at him.”
“Did he do something?” I gulped.
“No, no, nothing like that. I just thought it seemed strange that he would want anything to do with you. No offense, of course.”
“None taken,” I said dryly. I guess I had never really thought about the origin of my friendship with Jacob. We lost contact with each other over the years, but after Greg was killed, he came back into my life. It was a blessing, too. At that time, the only thing I needed was someone who would sit with me as I shook with fear and didn’t judge me because I was an emotional wreck. At my current age, it didn’t seem strange that I was friends with a slightly older man. After a certain point, age didn’t mean much. But as a child, I could see where my friendship with an older guy would give my mom pause.
“So,” I said, clearing my throat, “what did you do to check him out?”
My mom furrowed her brow, trying to remember back a decade or so. “Well, I got to know his parents. Usually, if the parents check out, the kid checks out too. If I had walked over there and the house was a mess and his mom was rude to me, then I would have problems.”
“Seems a little judgmental,” I said.
“You have a kid of your own,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me. “Call me prejudiced, but you use whatever resources you have to keep your kid safe.”
I swallowed hard. I know she probably didn’t mean to come off as harsh, but since my child was currently in harm’s way, it felt as though she was trying to make a point. I felt helpless enough as it was. I wanted to do more to find my son, but the police made it clear that I would only get in their way. So, I had to sit and make small talk with my mother while the police worked to find Gregory.
“I guess you’re right,” I grumbled.
“Still, we didn’t like the idea of an older boy hanging around our daughter, no matter how good his parents were. Do you remember me trying to convince you to spend more time with people your own age?”
“Vaguely,” I said, biting the inside of my cheek. “I didn’t know that was because you didn’t trust Jacob.”
She nodded. “We even tried to talk to Jacob about spending time with people his age. He wasn’t very happy when I told him that.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I didn’t know you talked to him about me. He’s never brought that up before.”
“Not surprised. He was a little embarrassed.”
I felt guilty. It couldn’t have been easy for Jacob to hear that. He had a bit of a fragile ego—just typical guy stuff.
“Looking back, I kind of feel bad for him,” I admitted. “Maybe he didn’t have a lot of friends and I was willing to talk to him.”
I remember thinking it was pretty cool to have a male friend who was more mature than the guys in my class. Even then, I admired how intelligent Jacob was. In fact, he became quite the influence in my life. If I hadn’t tried to learn things to impress him, I would have never studied Computer Science. He was still ahead of me in terms of knowledge, and probably would always be, but I had made a name for myself in the programming world. My work was rarely consistent, but it was enough to live on.
“No, I suppose he didn’t. He seemed like the kind of kid who would be too easy to pick on. He was kind of a know-it-all, and those types don’t typically do well in school. Of course, you were a very kind and naïve kid, so you were just interested in what he had to say. Of course it wouldn’t annoy you to be told things you might already know, because you didn’t. Though I appreciated the fact that you had a friend to tutor you through Algebra so I didn’t have to. Still, he wasn’t a perfect angel.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“He doted on you, but he could be bossy and jealous. One time, he came to the door and you weren’t home. He asked what you were up to and I told him that you were at a school dance. His face turned bright red and he pitched a little tantrum on the front step.”
“What did you do?” I asked, surprised by this behavior. The Jacob of my childhood had perhaps been a little protective, but not controlling.
“I set him straight the moment I could even comprehend what was going on. I told him to knock that possessive crap off right that instant. He sulked away and hadn’t been outwardly controlling since—until now.”
I nibbled on a hangnail. I had a sneaking suspicion that I knew exactly what she was talking about. I didn’t want to admit that she was right about how crazy he had been acting lately. If I did, it would be as if she was right to want to keep us apart. He was the closest friend I had, and I didn’t want her convincing me that I shouldn’t allow him to support me through a difficult time.
Though he was starting to annoy me by his persistent attempts to be more than a friend, I didn’t want to lose him. He was clearly just rattled by everything that had happened and afraid to lose me. I understood his concern, but I couldn’t handle his panic when I had so much of mine to deal with. After all, he wasn’t the one with a missing child.
“I’m just worried he’s going to have another freakout,” my mom said pointedly.
I scowled. I didn’t like when people spoke of mental health crises so crassly. I had dealt with enough of my own. That being said, she had a point.
When I moved away from home to go to college, Jacob was bereft. After he graduated from high school, he went to community college and lived at home. In fact, he was almost exclusively self-taught. But he never really moved away from his parents’ house until they packed up and bought a small condo in Boca Raton.
Anyway, when I left for college, Jacob had a breakdown. Everyone said that it was because I was leaving him, but it seemed like a convenient answer to a complicated problem. In fact, it got so bad that he had to be hospitalized in a psychiatric unit for a while. I was already moved into my dorm when I heard the news. I tried to come home, but my mom convinced me to stay away. I couldn’t put my life on hold because of him. I felt bad about not visiting him right away, but it was probably best for his recovery.
Honestly, I was havin
g a hard time remembering much about Jacob. After I was attacked, my long-term memory took a hit. I could remember a lot of things, like my high school graduation and my wedding day. But the events that were less significant were easily lost.
The doctors told me that I would regain some memories over time, but they prepared me for the fact that my brain won’t always work the way it used to. My therapist told me that some memories might be in there, but I’m purposefully blocking them out to protect myself. The thought of having horrible memories terrifies me. But sometimes, I wish I had some of my memories from before one of the many times I was attacked by my tormentor.
I wish I had more memories of my son. There have been times where he’s brought up something we did together, but I couldn’t quite remember. His memory was impeccable, though, so it was silly to be so upset about forgetting what I made him for breakfast on September third. By the way, it was slightly burned toast with butter and marmalade.
“Can you tell me about that?” I asked sheepishly.
Mom sighed. “You don’t remember that, do you?”
I hated to admit it, but she was right. My memories of Jacob’s hospitalization were fuzzy. I mostly remember what I was told later on when the subject came up.
“He came over to talk to you. He must have forgotten that you were going to college or hoping that you’d change your mind. I think he was in denial. Anyway, I told him that you were gone. It was like his brain was a computer and it melted. He just stood there, like he didn’t know who he was. Then, he started yelling.”
“About what?”
“All sorts of things. Most of them didn’t make sense. I had to call the police. I didn’t want to, but I was freaked out. He’s not a small guy—I didn’t know what he was going to do.”
“You thought he was going to hurt you?”
She frowned. “Not necessarily. He was clearly having some kind of episode. I was frightened, and I didn’t want a screaming kid on my lawn. He obviously needed medical attention and his parents weren’t around.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t help but have a little sympathy for him. I know there were several times after my attack that I froze up at the grocery store or in line at the bank because my mind took me to a dark place.
“I know I told you that I visited him in the hospital, but that was just to keep you from coming home. I didn’t want to see him—I mean, he was just the strange neighbor kid who had a thing for my daughter. For the most part, he was really good to you, but I didn’t want you to rush back here every time he had a tantrum.”
“It doesn’t sound like a tantrum,” I said sternly.
“You know what I mean. Anyway, he was there for a while. I’m sure he was put on medication of some kind and talked to a therapist about whatever it was that caused the episode.”
“Did he seem better after he got home?” I asked, angry at myself for not really remembering what became of Jacob.
She shook her head. “Goodness, I have no idea. Before, I used to see him around every once in a while. After he got home, he stayed there. He didn’t come over to chat and see how you were doing. I think that’s what caused him to move out of his parents’ house for good.”
“That was probably good for him,” I thought, especially considering the fact that I was still living with my parent. If I were healthy enough to live on my own, I’m sure it would be good for my independence.
“I’m sure it was,” she agreed. “He seems a lot better. But after this second attack, he’s been really squirrely. I told him that I wanted him to cool down. He really cares about you, and there’s no telling what he would do.”
“What do you think he’d do?” I asked, feeling concerned.
“No clue with that one,” she said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to be meddling with the police. If he wanted to do their job, then he should join the force. If he wants to help pass out flyers or search the rural parts of town, then that’s fine. I just don’t think he should be butting into the investigation. He’s acting like he’s going to find the freak who did this to my family and rip him limb from limb. It’s a nice sentiment, but have you seen him? I don’t think he does much more than sit in his basement all day.”
I ignored the comment about his physique and tried to imagine Jacob killing my attacker. It would be nice to finally have some justice for my family, have my baby back in my arms, and have the nightmare end, but I didn’t want Jacob to be the one to do it.
Not only would he somehow manage to bungle the whole operation, but I didn’t want to feel like I owed him anything. This wasn’t a love story where he would bring my son back and I would decide that I loved Jacob after all. In fact, the thought about being romantic with anyone, let alone Jacob, made my stomach squirm. It was not the time to be thinking of such things. I had much more pressing matters to attend to. My son was missing, my brother was fighting for his life, and I was dealing with the effects of another concussion. I didn’t need any more distractions.
“Why now?” my mom asked, her blue eyes staring at me. “He stayed away for so long. Suddenly, he’s back and wants to be by your side at all hours of the day. Something doesn’t add up.”
I shrugged. “I think he wants me to fall in love with him.”
Once the words left my mouth, I regretted saying anything at all. I had always hated talking about my relationships with my mom. I didn’t want her jumping to conclusions where there were none.
“And?” she asked, raising her thin eyebrows at me.
“And there’s nothing to it,” I said, getting up from my seat. “I hope he eventually realizes that we’re never going to be anything more than friends. Am I manipulating him into helping me by allowing him to stick around?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t really care,” my mom replied. “If he’s going to help us in some way, then it doesn’t really matter what he thinks is going to happen afterward. Just try and keep him from ruining the investigation with his hotheadedness.”
“I’ll try,” I said dryly, walking toward the stairs. “I’m going to bed.”
“Take it easy on the medicine,” my mom warned. “You can get addicted to sleeping pills.”
“I’m aware,” I replied. “I’m not using them right now.”
I walked up to my room, closed the door, and unscrewed the cap to the orange prescription bottle. Fishing one little pill out of the bottle, I popped it on my tongue and washed it down with a swig of water. I understood my mother’s concern as a nurse, so I didn’t want to have to explain to her that I would not be able to sleep without the drugs. Besides, it wasn’t as though I was popping pills to get high on a regular basis. I just needed a little help falling asleep.
I found one of Gregory’s Legos in my bed and a wave of grief washed over me. As a mother, I had one job. I failed to protect my son and my brother was hurt in the process. He was such a special boy, and my heart broke to think of how scared he must have been when he realized that he was in trouble. The world was already a difficult place for him to understand, and being torn away from everything he had ever known had to be unbearable for him. I just hoped that he was untouched. I couldn’t even get my mind to allow for the possibility of anything else.
After a particularly bad bout of anxiety, I had a therapist tell me that if I couldn’t sleep because I was worried about something, I should just allow myself some time to stop thinking about whatever was troubling me until morning. There was nothing I could do for my son at this hour, and certainly nothing I could do if I wasn’t well rested. I needed to stay sharp for my son. So, after blinking out a few tears, I searched my mind for something less horrifying.
My mind landed on Jacob and how strange he was acting. The last time I told him that I didn’t want to date him, he seemed downright angry about it. I understood that tensions were running high, but he didn’t have the right to be angry about my choices. In fact, I was annoyed that he would bring something like that up at a time like this. It was inappropriate
and weird. He had always been old-fashioned in his way of thinking about women, but this was too much, even for Jacob. I just wished he didn’t know me so well so I could use the excuse that I was married. The wedding ring that I occasionally wore around my finger didn’t fool him.
After a few hours of trying to keep my mind occupied on lesser horrors, I managed to drift off, aided by the little pill. As my brain became fuzzy, I let out a long exhale of relief. Now, I would be given a brief reprieve from the trauma that surrounded every waking moment.
Chapter Fifteen
I felt some of the fog leave my head and cracked my eyes open to reveal darkness. I stood up and my heart started racing as I smelled the familiar musty scent of the location of my darkest moments. I reached my hands out, terrified of what I was about to find. Sure enough, my fingertips came into contact with cool stone walls. I was back in the maze.
Strangely enough, my first reaction was relief. If I could navigate the maze, I would be able to retrieve my son. He was certainly in here somewhere, lost and afraid. When I listened hard, I swore I could hear him calling out to me.
My feet felt unbearably heavy when I tried to walk. The ground felt soft under my shoes, as if I were walking on moss or mud. I squinted my eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness, but it was of no use. I was completely blind in the maze.
I took a step forward, both hands out in front of me. Suddenly, I heard a soft whimper coming from somewhere in the room. I listened hard, realizing that the brick walls were creating an echo effect in the room. I couldn’t quite pinpoint where the cries were coming from, only that they were coming from my son.
“Gregory!” I cried along with him. “Where are you?”
He didn’t answer but just continued to cry. My heart began to pound as my fingers scraped against the wall, searching for my next turn.