by L. K. Kuhl
I blew out a puff of stale air, exasperated. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I just kinda hoped I’d know him so much better by now.”
Chapter 7
For the next nine days we came back to the beach. My hope waned. Symphony was gone, and I couldn’t save her. I begged and pleaded with the pound to give me more time, but they wouldn’t concede.
I spent every day searching for Tate, but never did find him. It was as though he had just vanished from the earth. My chest ached, laden with sadness. I missed him so much. He’d be crushed about his dog, too.
Mandy picked at a fingernail, then turned to face me one steamy afternoon while we sat on our lounge chairs. “Why don’t you just give up, Sophia? You’re ruining your vacation over some guy you don’t even know and who you’ll probably never see again, anyway.”
I sighed. “Maybe you’re right.” I looked away, my eyes still searching for him by force of habit. The words scratched and bit, eating their way through my insides. They were so hard to say. “I do need to forget about him.”
* * *
At Mandy’s house that night the three of us sat around the table and talked about our junior-high days. Some of the quirky things we did were hilarious, and some…not so funny. Sometimes we hurt each other, and sometimes we couldn’t love each other more if we tried.
“Remember that time we hid Dane Jackson’s homework in the bathroom stool?” Mandy laughed so hard she could barely talk.
“Yeah…about that…I told my parents it was all you….” I grimaced, getting ready for a swat.
We laughed until our stomachs hurt and our cheeks froze. The two of them managed to pull out a fleeting string of laughter, even for the deep state of sadness consuming me. I needed this grief-bender…just to get Tate and Symphony off my mind. If only for a little while.
The clock struck midnight by the time we found our bedrooms. Matt trudged up the stairs behind Mandy, playing grabby-hands all the way up. He lived here most of the time, now.
I closed my door and climbed into bed, vowing that tonight I wouldn’t let Tate enter my brain.
I yawned, too tired to write in my journal, so I pulled the sheet up to my neck, nuzzling into my soft pillow.
Around three in the morning, the sound of soft music woke me. I rolled over. Matt and Mandy must have their radio on. Eager for more sleep, I closed my eyes and settled my head back down into my pillow. But the music got louder. I put my pillow over my head, hoping to drown it out, but it didn’t help.
I got up and padded to my door. Careful not to wake anyone, I turned the knob gently, but it wouldn’t open. I jiggled the knob, cringing when it rattled too loud, making more noise than I wanted. It still wouldn’t budge. My heart picked up speed, and I yanked hard now, shaking the door—panic surging to my throat from the fear of being locked in.
The music grew louder. With my lips pinched in a thin line, I gave it one more forceful tug, crashing to the floor and skidding to my back when it finally opened. I scrambled up, my face flushing, glad no one had seen my embarrassing mishap.
I pulled down my T-shirt and tiptoed out into the hall, heading toward the stairway. The music emanated from this direction and not from Mandy’s room. As I crept by the closed door of her parents’ room, I stopped. The music came from here, playing out like Chopin’s Waltz. But I didn’t know a whole lot about classical music, just what little I’d learned in my chorus class.
I stared at the closed door, then put my ear up to it. The mysterious music quieted some, but still continued playing. My heart raced…breathing heavy. The urge to run back to my room engulfed me—to shut the door and pretend it never happened. But something compelled me to stay, pulled me in.
My quavering hand grabbed the antique doorknob. It slid, almost slipping out of its hole when I gave it a gentle pull. The door creaked opened, revealing the dingy room.
The first smell that hit me wasn’t the musty aroma from the other day. It was the scent of shaving cream—Tate’s shaving cream. A small smile lit my tremoring lips. This smell warmed me…reassured me, erasing my fears. I reached around the door and searched for the light switch, flicking it up to turn it on. Nothing happened. Scraps of light came from the glow of the moon shining in through the window, illuminating the dresser, but that was all.
I walked farther into the room and advanced toward the dresser. The music got louder, reaching higher crescendos. My face wrinkled in confusion, and I inched closer, trying to make sense of it. Sad and melancholy notes filled the room—heartbroken, bereaved. Perplexed at what could be creating this, I opened up the top drawer of the dresser—careful—not disturbing it.
The drawer was dark and empty so I closed it, stepping back, listening. A delicate breeze tickled my ear—like the feel of someone’s breath—making me grin. I glanced to the locked window. Nothing could have come through there.
The feel of tenacious arms cradled, pulled me in, holding me prisoner inside a satiny caress. It mesmerized me—captured me in a trancelike state. An arousal stirred deep, nerve endings tingled.
Everything was unbelievably good in this moment. I never wanted it to end. I stood there with my arms wrapped around myself, eyes closed, swaying back and forth, this wonderful feeling of pure, undeniable love surrounding me.
It went away as quickly as it came. A shutter banging against the side of the house woke me, snapping me back to reality. Another storm was blowing in, the wind slapping the lapboard siding, shaking the walls. The music stopped and released me. My chest ached. I didn’t want this feeling to stop—could have drowned in it forever.
The wind blew hard, now, so I left, shutting the door behind me. I tiptoed back to my room and climbed into bed. The ceiling glared back at me as I lay there…thinking, trying to figure out a logical solution as to why these things were happening to me. Everything pointed to me going insane, and I didn’t want to go there.
It was four-thirty. I had been in there an hour and a half—it seemed like only minutes. Tate filled my head again. I couldn’t go back to sleep after this. No way. The storm raged outside, and hard rain slammed the house, pelting against my windows. My mind, still reeling with what had just happened, overcame me. I got lost in it, paying no attention to what was happening outside.
* * *
The next morning, I loped down the stairs for breakfast. Matt and Mandy were up, sitting at the kitchen table. Mandy pushed the carton of orange juice toward me. “Did you survive the storm last night?”
“What storm? Oh…wait…yeah, I think I kinda remember hearing the wind, but that’s all. Did it get bad?”
Mandy watched while I buttered a piece of toast. “Well...yeah. It knocked the power out for a while, and we also lost a few tree branches.”
I grimaced. “Eww, hope there wasn’t too much damage.”
“No, Matt and I can get ‘em.” She got up, hauling breakfast dishes to the sink.
I didn’t say anything about what had happened last night. They’d think I’d gone loony. “If you don’t mind, I think I’m just going to hang out around the house today.” They didn’t need to know my real reason—to go back into that bedroom and investigate. “I have a headache and just want to rest.”
“No, that’s fine, ya party pooper. Matt and I can find something to do. Can’t we, Matt?”
“We sure can.” A crooked leer pulled his face to the side. He followed her to the sink and reached toward her, gathering her in a tight hug. “I can think of lots of things to do.” His eyebrows raised in a playful manner.
He grabbed her butt and gave it a fast, tight squeeze. She slapped his hand. “Matthew Cobain! That’s not what I was meaning. We need to go wedding shopping. It’s not far off, you know.”
She paused and put her hands on her hips, eyeing me with brown, narrowed slits. “Wait a minute. You’re not going to look for Tate again, are you?” Her voice dropped to a suspicious low. Fingers drumming on her hipbones, she bit the inside of her lip, waiting for my answer.
&n
bsp; I laughed, holding up my hands in surrender. “He’s gone…out of my mind. You won’t have to worry about that anymore.”
“Alright, just checking. I didn’t think you would. He’s not worth it.” She gave me a final glare before she closed the door.
I peeked through the curtain, making sure they’d left before I snuck back upstairs. My stomach stirred, going through Mandy’s things didn’t feel right, but I had to have a look around that room in daylight.
I opened the door, and the musty smell attacked my nose. The shaving cream aroma had vanished. In the dull light coming in from one grim window, cobwebs flanked the entire room, draping down like the tentacles of a jellyfish. Dust covered the dresser, the bedside table, the floor, and the windowsill.
My bare footprints from last night were still settled in the dust. I looked up. A large Victorian chandelier hung in the middle of the ceiling—a few of the glass jewels missing, one dark lightbulb dangling.
I walked to the dresser, inspecting it. It was like any other old dresser—full of wear, with nicks and scrapes dirtying up the stain and varnish. I opened the top drawer, and a black spider scurried to its safe haven, its web stitched like a no-trespassing-zone from corner to corner.
Startled from the furry, eight-legged creature, I pushed it closed and began opening the next one down, when something in the back of the top drawer caught my eye—something shiny sticking out of the crack where the drawer fit together. It glared in the shallow light, no thicker than a piece of paper. Even with the snarling spider, I pressed my lips together tight and opened it again, wiggling my fingers toward it, but not grasping enough of it. I tried my fingernail, prying, at last catching the thin edge. It slid and moved. Little by little, I inched it toward me and picked it up. My breath caught in my throat and a coldness shuddered my core, almost sending me to my knees. I read the label and froze. It was a music CD of Chopin.
My hands shook and my mind spun. I turned it over and inspected it closer, seeing a strip of masking tape at the bottom. A word, scribbled in ink, ran across the tape, but the fading letters made it nearly impossible to read. Really trying to focus, I studied it longer, eyes squinting tightly. I finally made out the word…Tate.
A tingling shiver ran the length of my body. I threw it back into the drawer and slammed it shut. My entire body trembled, and I hyperventilated, sweat dotting my brow. If Matt and Mandy had planted it here—some hurtful joke—they had some explaining to do.
The hall to my bedroom seemed like a mile long as I ran out of the room, stumbling and using the wall for support. My breathing was running a race with my heart as I staggered in and slammed the door, collapsing onto the bed. I clutched my head…reeling.
I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t contain myself, so I got up and went back to the room, grabbing the CD out of the drawer. I raced downstairs, ready to show Mandy and see if she could tell me. She and Matt still weren’t home, so I ran back up to my room, this time tucking it in my top dresser drawer underneath my underwear.
I fidgeted, unable to sit in the house any longer, so I put on my shoes to go for another run. Clear my head. Think things through. I opened the door, and the chilly air swept through me, so I grabbed my jacket, wrapping and tying it around my waist.
As I stood on the stoop and stretched my legs, limbering up, I listened to the chatter of people playing at the beach. What if Tate is there? My legs were still stiff as I took off, finding it hard not to go in that direction just to see. The compulsion to see him astounded me. I managed to steer clear, though, and ran the same path I ran the other night.
I drew in deep breaths, getting into the run, relaxing and focusing my mind on fun things. But Tate and the CD kept popping into my head. And with the strange music and mysterious feelings I had last night, it knocked me out of rhythm. My breathing became labored—a burning blade cutting through my chest. Energy plummeted—legs became metal boards. I ran as far as the cemetery and turned around, heading back toward Mandy’s.
A crack of thunder split the sky, and the clouds tumbled, becoming big gray savages. My feet picked up pace again. It was either hurry…or prepare to get drenched. But then…I heard it. Something that mimicked a whine or a sad howl. I stopped, shooting my gaze over the iron fence of the cemetery. A black dog meandered its way toward the exit gate, head hanging low. Lost and lonely.
I gasped. “Symphony?” The dog’s ears perked, and she came toward me. “Come here, Symphony. Come here, girl.” She ran and tackled me with slobbery licks. My head swam with disbelief.
The sky recoiled and rolled even darker, and the wind came up. Another storm blew in—this one, even worse than yesterday. I grabbed her by the collar, and we took off at a fast walk toward Mandy’s. “We’d better get out of here. The storm’s coming fast.”
Some strange sound just then rippled through my eardrums. Something so odd and grotesque that it crippled me…paralyzing me. The bizarre screeching sound came from behind. I glanced over my shoulder, almost stumbling on a downed tree branch in the process.
When my gaze latched on to the source of the threatening sound, I became dizzy, my legs grew weak, almost collapsing. One of the black-cloaked men trailed about forty yards behind, chasing me, closing in fast. I let go of Symphony’s collar, urging her to follow. I turned around and bolted, insisting my uncertain legs carry me faster…faster, feeling like I was in one of those dreams where you try to run but never get anywhere.
Symphony ran beside me, then pushed up ahead, in the lead. The thing chasing us didn’t bother her. She cleared the way to help me along.
I didn’t see his face, the heavy cloak had it shrouded, but I didn’t want to take the time to notice. Lightning flashed all around me, and the thunder roared, but the strident screeching reached beyond the thunder—inhuman sounding. I whipped my head around again. He wasn’t far behind—his long, claw-like arms grabbing, reaching for me. Whatever was behind the cloak wasn’t human.
Symphony and I kept ahead of this monster-creature, stumbling to Mandy’s front door. I grabbed the doorknob and twisted it, racing inside. Symphony shot in behind me, and I slammed the door and locked it, gulping down my breaths to stay quiet. The sky let loose, and the rain hammered out a tin can.
I fumbled to the kitchen and flipped on the light. The thunder exploded. Each time a flash of light struck, I vaulted, the deafening crack splitting my eardrums. Still unable to comprehend what had just happened, I peered out the kitchen window, my eyes wild, searching for the cloaked being.
It was hard to see through the downpour, but I think whatever it was had gone, so I crumbled into a kitchen chair, my heart beating wildly, blood thrashing in my ears. Either I needed to see a head doctor or this place was getting weirder by the day. I didn’t know how much more I could sustain.
Chapter 8
“Is that Tate’s dog?” Mandy’s eyes sparked wide when her and Matt came walking in a couple hours later. The storm had let up, but water still dripped from the gutters.
“Yep, sure is.” I rubbed Symphony’s ears. “Found her out by the cemetery. She was coming out of the gate when I ran by. Can you believe it? I’ve no idea how she got out of the pound or what she was doing out there.”
My hands still quivered from the monster chase earlier, and I shoved them in my jacket pockets.
Mandy came close and gave Symphony a pat on the head. “Hum…how’d you get out there?” Symphony’s tongue lavished her face. “Yuck, you got me there.” She ran her hand down her cheek. “Wish she could tell us. I suppose she can stay here until you find Tate.”
“I hoped you didn’t care.”
Matt tossed me an absorbing smile. “Looks like you’re back to searching for Tate, again.”
“Guess so.” I wriggled and sat down, the chair giving a creak. “So, how’d shopping go?”
Mandy opened a can of soda, rolling her eyes. “I hate shopping with him. It’s like shopping with a baby. He whined, wanting everything he saw, except for wedding stuff.” She
poured the bubbly liquid into a glass—ice crackling, fizzing carbonation waking my ears.
Matt gave her a shove. “Told ya I hated shopping.”
I yawned, rubbed my arms. “Whelp, I’m frazzled. Think I’m gonna head up to bed. Do you have an old blanket or something I could use for Symphony’s bed?”
“Yep, have one right here.” Mandy reached into the linen closet and pulled out a blue floral one.
“Thanks…guess I’ll search for Tate tomorrow, again, so she won’t have to live with us too long.”
Mandy waved it off with her hand. “No worries. She’s cool.”
I trudged up to my room, Symphony by my side, and placed the blanket on the floor to the left of my bed, fluffing it to make it comfortable. “Come here, Symph.”
She came over, her head drooped low—looking melancholy.
She smelled my hand and gave it a couple licks. “It’s okay. You can stay here with me, we’re friends. I wish you could talk. Then you could tell me what happened to Tate.”
She whined when she heard his name and her tail wagged. After giving two large yawns, she got on the blanket and turned around a couple of times before lying down, nuzzling her nose into the softness.
Before I got into bed, I opened up my drawer and brought out the CD. I held it to my chest, running my finger along the side, imagining that Tate’s fingers might have done the same once.
I put it back in the drawer and tucked it under my clothes again. I’d show it to Mandy in the morning.
I pulled out my journal. It had been forever since my last entry.
June Twelfth,
My vacation is turning into some sort of a conundrum. I did find Symphony, at least, but we got chased by a bizarre, cloaked creature that seems to be after Mandy, Matt, and I for some reason. I heard strange music coming from Mandy’s parents’ old room, coupled with that, a weird, yet sensual feeling. And to top it all off, I found a CD in the old dresser with Tate’s name on it. I have no idea what all this means and don’t know if I ever will. Now, to only find Tate.