No One Knows

by J. T. Ellison

  “Ma’am, relax. I’m just putting word out to my training officer—he’s a few blocks away on another accident scene. It’s my first week on the job. I don’t want to have anything in question, okay?”

  “Babe, it’s okay,” Chase said. “He’s just crossing the t’s.”

  “Ha,” Aubrey said. “You have no idea what this is like for me. You have no idea.” Her voice ended in a shout, which did nothing to help soothe the fears the new cop was having.

  “Ma’am? Ms. Hamilton? Why don’t we step inside for a moment?”

  The tone of his voice made her nerves go into overdrive. Chase caught her distress and squeezed her arm, but it was Josh’s voice she heard in her head. Aubrey, calm down. If you don’t act like a normal person, they might think you had something to do with this and arrest you again.

  Aubrey shut her eyes again and nodded. She let Chase lead her into the house like she was a lost child. Winston jumped to her side, whining, and bared his teeth at the cop. Chase reached for Winston’s collar and said, “No, boy.” The dog immediately calmed, and Aubrey glanced sharply over at Chase. When she and Josh had been training the puppy, Josh had always grabbed the dog’s collar and said, “No, boy,” with that exact inflection.

  Aubrey was just plain living in a surreal netherworld where strangers seemed like friends and everything had gone topsy-turvy.

  Chase sat her down at the kitchen table, then started making tea.

  The police officer talked into his shoulder for a few minutes, giving and getting instructions. She watched him warily, wondered who he was calling.

  He keyed his mike once more, said, “10-4,” then turned to her. He took the seat opposite her at the table, blocking her view out the window into the street, where the ambulance was pulling away.

  “Okay, Ms. Hamilton. Let’s go over everything that happened leading up to the accident.”

  “Your father is Officer Bob Parks, isn’t he?”

  The officer looked surprised. “How’d you know that?”

  “He worked my husband’s case, when he went missing. You look just like him.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m his son, Brent. He’s Sergeant Parks now.”

  Of course he is. Life moves on, Aubrey. Everyone’s life has moved forward except for yours. Until yesterday. And look where that got you.

  Chase brought three cups and a freshly brewed pot of tea. He sat and offered the mugs around, then poured out, like the perfect host. The cop accepted the steaming liquid, took a polite sip, then set the cup down and opened his notebook.

  “Thank you, sir. Could you state your name for the record?”

  “Of course. Chase Boden. I’m a friend of Ms. Hamilton.”

  Had he lingered suggestively on the word friend, or had she just imagined it?

  Whatever he said seemed to appease the cop for the moment because he started back in on Aubrey.

  She relayed the story again, and a third time, before the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” Chase said. She watched as he crossed to the front door and opened it. An older, grayer version of the young officer sitting at her kitchen table stood in the doorway, along with two more police officers.

  Great. He’d called his dad. This should be interesting.

  Chase let them all in, then resumed his spot at the table. He placed a comforting arm on Aubrey’s leg, very much the man of the house.

  Surreal. Surreal, surreal, surreal.

  The officers spoke among themselves for a moment, then the older one, the asshole she knew as Bob Parks, addressed her.

  “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Hamilton.” There was a slight tone of amusement in his voice; apparently he didn’t hold a grudge. Five years ago when Parks tried to cuff her, she’d fought, hard, and blackened his eye. She sent him a look.

  Please don’t mention I hit you, not in front of Chase. Please.

  “And you. I hear you’ve made sergeant. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. Ma’am, your mother-in-law has been transported to Midtown. Have you called her husband yet to let him know about the accident?”

  “Oh, God, Tom. I should do that. Is she okay? What should I tell him?”

  “I don’t have that information. I would like to hear what happened, though.”

  Chase stood. “Come now. Aubrey has already repeated the story several times. We were sitting on the front step, playing with the dog, and this woman came flying up the street and rammed into the house. There’s nothing more for us to add at this point.”

  Us.

  Nothing more for us to add.

  Aubrey felt her shoulders square. The last time, she hadn’t had anyone there to stop them from questioning her again and again and again. She took strength in the fact that Chase was so much in charge and relayed her own requests.

  “I’d like to call Daisy’s husband now. And then I’d like to go to the hospital and see how she’s doing.”

  Both Parkses weighed her words, then nodded in time, almost as if they were twins, not father and son.

  The sergeant spoke first. “That’s fine, Mrs. Hamilton. Thank you for being so cooperative.” He started to hand her his card, thought better of it, handed it to Chase instead. “We’ll be in touch if there’s anything else we need from you, and you feel free to call if you remember anything else. You have homeowner’s insurance, I presume? A report will be left with you in a few hours for you to give them.”

  “I do. With the Farm Bureau. Thank you very much.”

  The officers left through the front door, and Aubrey sagged against the chair.

  Chase knelt beside her, brushed her hair back off her forehead. “Are you okay?”

  She gazed at him, struck by how loving he was, how sweet, how concerned. She almost didn’t know how to react to that. But this wasn’t about her right now. She needed it to be about Daisy. As much as she despised the woman, as often as she’d hoped that Daisy would get drunk and drive herself into a tree, leave this world behind, leave her constant disapproval behind, she didn’t truly wish her dead. Now that the impossible had happened, Aubrey felt a sudden kinship, a need to take charge. It’s what Josh would want.

  “I am. I need to call Tom.”

  Chase reached behind her and retrieved the phone. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you, Chase. For everything.”

  He just smiled and ran his palm against her cheek.

  “Anything for you, Aubrey.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Aubrey

  Nineteen Years Ago

  Aubrey is ten. She has just been given a valentine by a boy named Josh Hamilton. She has known Josh for three years. A lifetime. He has beautiful blue eyes, and a smile that makes her happy.

  Not much makes her happy now. She lives in the house with Sandy, and Tyler, and Julia and Becka and Latesha, and the men who parade through to give Sandy money in exchange for their pleasure with her foster mother. It is an existence, not a life.

  She sleeps in the same bed as Latesha because they are the closest in age. Latesha and Tyler are doing it. Aubrey has to pretend she doesn’t know this, but they groan and grunt and fight in the bed every night like small animals. Tyler pushes Aubrey off the bed sometimes and makes her sleep on the floor. She doesn’t like the floor; Sandy isn’t the best housekeeper, and small things skitter around in the corners during the night, but it is better than being part of the fun. She can’t sleep with them playing in the bed.

  Once, they allowed her to stay, and Latesha held her hand while Tyler ran his palms over Aubrey’s still invisible breasts, but she hadn’t liked that, so now when Tyler comes into the room, she grabs her pillow and decamps without making a fuss.

  Aubrey is sworn to secrecy, but wonders if Tyler knows he is just one in a long line of boys who are sticking their things in Latesha. She was caught last week at school
going down on one of the teacher’s aides, and Sandy was furious.

  Aubrey knows what sex is, what going down means, what pussy and dick and cunt and whore mean, and vaguely thinks these are words and actions that no ten-year-old should know so intimately.

  But now, Josh Hamilton has handed her a small red heart cut out of construction paper with B My Valentine written in crooked letters with blue ink, and she can’t help but wonder if that means he wants to put his thing into her, or maybe he just wants her to take the piece of paper and smile and say yes, she’ll be his valentine. So that’s what she does. She smiles and says yes, and he smiles back, leans in, and kisses her forehead, then darts off.

  She is bewildered, and suddenly the center of attention for all the girls in class.

  Two approach, and Aubrey is reminded of the lions stalking a wildebeest in a television show on Animal Planet that Sandy made them watch with the volume turned up real loud last night while she entertained a guest. The nature shows are where Tyler and Latesha got the idea to couple in the first place. Sandy thought the kids were getting wholesome entertainment. How could there be anything bad on a channel focused solely on cute zoo animals? But instead of the gentle education Sandy was hoping for, they were exposed to sex and violence and gore and sadness.

  Life.

  The taller of the two, a girl with a wide forehead named Hilary, smiles disarmingly, then snatches the valentine from Aubrey’s hand and reads the inscription.

  She turns to the smaller girl, Danielle, and says, “Oooh, looky here. It says ‘Josh loves Aubrey.’ ”

  She begins to chant the words aloud, and Danielle joins in, the two becoming a miniature Indian circle, hooting and hollering and pointing, and others arrive from various areas around the room to join in, not knowing why they are dancing around little Aubrey Trenton, or why she has tears in her eyes, or why there are small torn bits of red construction paper near her feet, only that the gang leader has called and the gang leader must be answered.

  Their teacher, Linda Pierce, sees the situation unfold and hustles over to stop it. Aubrey is forever being picked on. She is different. She no longer has parents. She lives with strangers. She is on scholarship. She comes to school, hair wild about her solemn and sad face, not speaking, not interacting with anyone but Josh Hamilton, who has set out to save the small, desolate little girl.

  The crowd disperses, back to their own activities. They will be sat down for a conflict-resolution session shortly, so there is no chance of misunderstanding that what they’ve just done isn’t acceptable, and will do some role-playing exercises to find a different, healthier approach to acting out. Mrs. Pierce wipes Aubrey’s tears, helps her pick up the shredded valentine.

  Aubrey wonders if Josh could be talked into making her another. But he is gone, back to his classroom, back to his perfect world, where parents are alive and mothers don’t have sex with strangers.

  Mrs. Pierce hands her the Scotch tape, and together they piece the red thing back into being.

  Aubrey hides in the coatroom and hugs it to her heart, plotting her revenge on the girls who tried to take his love away.

  Dear Josh,

  I saw Kevin and Janie’s boys today. They’ve moved to Pensacola. (I know, can you imagine the Sulmans out of the Outer Banks?) I never get to see them or the kids anymore. God, they are huge. And precocious, and funny. I can’t believe how much you’re missing. I can’t believe what I’m missing. I thought we’d have babies by now, curly-headed little girls I’d dress in frilly pink outfits and solemn-faced boys who wanted to play with trains and you’d share your music with.

  I will admit it, I broke down. I don’t do that much anymore. But as I watched them playing in the yard, I lost it. Simply, cleanly, completely. Cried, and hid my tears behind my sunglasses. Parker came up with a beetle to show me and said, “Auntie, your nose is all red,” and I blamed it on sunburn.

  It’s just not fair. Where are you? Why won’t you come home to me? Was it something I did? Did I make you unhappy? Was there anything that I could have done differently? I can’t help but feel that you ran away from me, that I drove you away. And for what?

  I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Josh. You were everything to me, and I feel so incomplete. Like I am half a woman.

  Come home, darling. I don’t want to live without you anymore. I can’t.

  Always,

  Aubrey

  CHAPTER 27

  Daisy

  Today

  Daisy heard snippets of language but couldn’t decipher them. She felt like she was asleep, underwater, locked inside a room that didn’t allow for air. She couldn’t breathe. Every part of her body hurt, and though she was afraid to move, afraid it would hurt more, the idea of lying still any longer made her claustrophobic. Eyes. Eyes had to open. Her eyes wouldn’t open.

  She thrashed. Oh, dear God, she couldn’t breathe. She began to choke, to gag.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, she’s waking up.”

  This she heard clearly, in her right ear. Waking up from what? What was happening?

  The warm cotton of heavy sleep began to flow through her. She recognized the feeling, a brief moment of clarity. She’d had anesthesia once before. And as she began to be cognizant of that thought, the darkness overwhelmed her.

  • • •

  Later.

  Long, low beeps. Daisy could hear them clearly, getting louder and louder. The hiss of air. Her chest—oh, the pain was unbearable.

  She opened her eyes. She couldn’t move her head. The feelings of claustrophobia returned; she saw Tom leaning over her.

  “Oh, Daisy. Honey. Thank God. Nurse!”

  Thank God for what? Tom’s face disappeared, replaced by whiteness, intense and harsh, so bright it made her reflexively shut her eyes. She tried to sit up and saw red. The pain was immediate, flaring into her brain. She stopped moving, just clenched her teeth together, prayed for it all to end.

  “Daisy?”

  She opened her eyes. Tom’s face was back, wavering above her.

  “Baby, you were in an accident. Do you remember?”

  An accident? She didn’t remember anything. She tried to shake her head, to say no, but nothing worked.

  A brown-skinned sloe-eyed woman appeared. A genie. She looked like a genie. Where was her bottle?

  “Daisy, I’m Rasha. I’m your nurse. You have a tube down your throat to help you breathe. You have sustained several injuries, including a broken sternum and some cracked vertebrae in your neck. You’re in a halo, to keep your head still. You’re going to be very sore, so I want you to tell me, on a scale of one to ten, how badly you hurt. So blink for me, sweetie. Blink for how badly you hurt on a scale of one to ten.”

  Daisy fluttered her eyes as quickly as she could.

  “Wow, okay. Let me get you some relief here.”

  She couldn’t see what was happening, but within moments her body was flooded with liquid gold, warm and soft as cashmere in her bones. She tried to take a deep breath, a reflex reaction to the soothing relief she felt, but couldn’t.

  It didn’t matter anymore. A gentle darkness surrounded her, carried her away.

  • • •

  The sun was coming through the blinds. Daisy could feel the shift, that instant when she knew she was awake. There was a brief, intoxicating moment while she forgot what was happening. Reality crept back in, and the pain began.

  It burned and ached and simmered in her chest. Each breath was agony.

  But pain was her companion. It told her she was alive.

  Tom stood nearby; she could smell his fear and sweat over the antiseptic coldness of the room. The nurse, Rasha, offered more meds, but Daisy blinked once for no. She wanted to know what was going on. Where she was. What had happened.

  Using only her eyes, she looked left and right and left and right, trying t
o communicate something, anything, so they’d know she wanted to hear about why she was here and what the hell was going on.

  Tom asked her a few inane questions: “Do you have to pee? Go ahead, you have a catheter. Do you want a drink? You can’t have one, I know your mouth must be dry, but they’re giving you fluids. Do you hurt? Of course you hurt, that was stupid of me. What do you want, sweetheart?”

  She shut her eyes and kept them closed. Amazing, even drugged and broken, she could still get annoyed with the man. He never had understood her.

  She opened her eyes again and frowned at him.

  “I don’t know what she wants,” he said, voice needy with helplessness.

  A voice that made Daisy’s blood pressure tick up several notches answered. “Let me try.”

  Tom’s face was replaced by the curly-haired bitch who’d gotten Josh killed.

  Aubrey.

  If Daisy could only raise her arms, she’d scratch her eyes out.

  “Daisy,” Aubrey started in a soothing discoursing-with-the-inmates tone, “you’ve been in an accident. You drove your car into my house. You’re hurt badly, you’re in intensive care. They’ve done surgery to put you back together. Your neck was broken, they fused the vertebrae together, so you have to stay in the halo for a while. It’s screwed in, so you won’t be able to turn your head. And your sternum had a crack in it. They need to keep you as immobile as possible for the time being while things start to knit back together. Blink twice if you understand.”

  As much as she didn’t want to obey the little wretch, she was more starved for information, so she blinked slowly, once, twice.

  “Good. They’re going to keep you sedated until things are calmed down. You’ve given everyone quite the scare, Daisy. It’s going to be a rough few days, but they think they’ll be able to take you off the ventilator soon. And then you’ll be able to talk.”

  Something in Aubrey’s eyes actually telegraphed concern. Daisy blinked twice.