by Mav Skye
“But the kids…Shayla has the flu.”
“Your neighbor, Trish, has them.”
Trish was one neighbor Chloe wasn’t going to miss much, she was a busy body like Mrs. Price, always looking for the drama in the neighborhood so she could spread it… Mrs. Price. Now where had that name come from?
It felt familiar in her mind. Mrs. Price. She rolled the name over and over, poking at it like a tongue would poke at a cold sore. And eventually something came, Mrs. Price was a nosey neighbor. Chloe couldn’t put a face to the name, but she remembered she was part of the community where she used to live. Hmmm…
Aunt Tanya asked, “What is it, Chloe?”
“I…I just remembered someone from when I grew up.”
“Who is that?”
“A nosey lady where I used to live.”
Her aunt frowned, looking sullen in a tightly wrapped gray sweater and black slacks. She sat on the couch by Chloe, taking her hand. “I don’t like this, Nvda.”
Nvda was Cherokee for moon or sun, depending what phrase you put before it. In this case, it meant moon or living in the night, a term of endearment. Sometimes, her aunt paired it with Ayita, her birth name.
Chloe bit her lip, not letting her aunt distract her. “And there’s more,” Glee filled her chest, almost making it hard to breathe, “I remember a housecoat… a pink housecoat. I think Mrs. Price must have worn a pink housecoat.”
Tanya said, “Easy now, Nvda. Just a little at a time.”
Chloe concentrated harder, but nothing else would come. When she opened her eyes, she pressed her fingers against the grin on her face.
Her aunt still frowned.
Chloe squeezed her hand back. “Elogi, this isn’t a bad memory like you were worried about. It’s a good one. It makes me feel happy.”
Elogi was Cherokee for aunt, Chloe reserved it for quiet moments. It always pulled at her aunt’s heart strings.
She knew a handful of words from her people’s language, some had been taught by her aunt, but other words came from before, the past she couldn’t remember.
Chloe waited a beat, by the look on Tanya’s face she could tell there was something Tanya wanted to ask her. “What is it?”
“I was wondering how you would feel if… if I went to Washington with you?”
“Aunt Tanya, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”
“Please,” Tanya patted Chloe’s hand. “It’s a big move to a place where you…may have a lot of memories coming back. Let me come. I can take a few months off work, I haven’t done that in…well, I can’t remember, to be honest. I could help you hang pictures, pick up the kids from school while you find a job.”
“I don’t know.”
“Please, Ayita Nvda, this is what your mother, your Etsi, would have wanted.”
At the word Etsi, a gentle voice filled her mind. Dance, Dance, Dance.
“I wish you’d tell me about my Etsi. If only what she looked like? I mean, if or when I do start remembering my past. It may make it easier if I heard it from you first.”
Tanya glanced away. “You already know how I feel about that and I will not have this conversation.”
“But—”
Tanya held up a finger. “Hush.”
Chloe folded her arms about her ribs, pouting. Again, feeling more like a teenager in her aunt’s presence than a grown woman. Her aunt, though kind and elegant, could command a courtroom with more authority than a judge.
Tanya continued, “Besides, I’m practically your children’s grandmother. I won’t be able to see them as often anymore.”
“We’ll come back and visit.”
Tanya said, “I know you will, but…let me do this for you, Chloe, for my grandchildren.”
Chloe would miss her Elogi, though Tanya had spent most of Chloe’s teen years at the firm and in the court room, Chloe had never any want or need of anything. She had all the expensive clothes, the education, everything… In her twenties, her aunt’s workload slowed down due to her heart going haywire from stress. That is when they had begun to get to know each other. Tanya was over every weekend after Chev was born, making meals and helping with housework, and taking care of Shayla after school.
The kids were going to miss her desperately. Though, the excitement of moving to a new state and city had temporarily made them forget about all that they were going to miss: the familiarity of the community, their schools, neighbors.
Chloe had been most worried about Shayla. She had been a little older than Shayla when she’d awakened to her aunt’s apartment with no memory of her past, friends or family. It was hard making new friends. Shayla, however, acted like she could care less whether they stayed or left, though Chloe could tell she was ready to leave after a rough semester in her first year of high school. There was a small band of popular girls who had made it their mission to ruin Shayla’s reputation after she refused to write their English essays and share notes from Chemistry. On top of that, Shayla had stolen one of their boyfriends, even though she hadn’t realized it at the time.
She had also developed bulimia, afraid her boyfriend would leave her and go back to the popular girls. Eventually, he did, which had spun Shayla’s illness out of control. She was less careful about when running to the bathroom after dinner, and when Chloe followed her one evening and heard her purging, she’d talked to Wes about it. He had decided to contact Shayla’s birth mother, who also happened to be a therapist. She lived in Wisconsin, but had agreed to skype sessions. Shayla getting to know her birth mother along with the therapy had helped her overcome the eating disorder, but it had also strained the relationship between Shayla and Chloe.
On the contrary, Shayla was more open with Tanya than ever, and having someone familiar around would help ease the kids into a new place.
Chloe said, “Okay, but there’s conditions.”
“Sure, shoot.”
“I don’t want your help with my…my…” For want of a word, she twirled her finger in a circle at her temple, hand language for crazy. “Unless I ask you.”
Tanya frowned. “I think I can do that, but if you are unconscious…”
“Then you can do something, but I don’t want you calling my doctor and asking to increase my therapy sessions. That’s none of your business, and you know that, Aunt Tanya.”
Her aunt turned beat red. “I apologize. It’s just that I’m worried about you, Nvda. You’ve been so happy and I don’t see what any good can come of—”
Chloe put her hand up in a stop. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, not right now, but you are welcome to come if you think you can handle those terms. Deal?”
Her aunt smiled and shook her hand. “Deal.”
Chloe laughed. “Why do I feel like I just signed a contract with the devil?”
Her aunt laughed with her and stood up. “You’re stuck with me now. How about some dinner? I’ve got a casserole in the oven and I thought we could bring it over to Trish’s and we could all eat there.”
Chloe smiled warmly at her aunt. “That was very kind of you.”
“The least I could do, Nvda. Why don’t you go clean up in the bathroom, and I’ll get this casserole out and ready to take over.”
Chloe stood and kissed her aunt on the cheek. “Love you, Elogi.”
“Shoo, shoo…” Her aunt giggled, which was rare, and pushed her toward the hall.
The condo had an open layout with twelve foot ceilings. Gothic beams framed the halls and entry ways. It was as beautiful as an old church, and felt about as lonely and empty, too, when her aunt wasn’t there.
Chloe sauntered down the plush carpet to the bathroom and shut the door. The bathroom opened to the hall and her aunt’s room. It was as big as the bedroom, too. There was a deep purple velvet chair standing in the corner by a makeup table and large mirror. A large brass sink with a long counter. Chloe turned on the water, waited for it to warm and splashed water on her face. She reached beneath the sink counter and grabbed a plush hand towel. Her au
nt was insistent on having the best of things, though she wasn’t down on those who had less…as in Wes and Chloe. They had two cars, an urban home, and the kids had cells, about as middle income as a family could get. Taking out the new business loan was a blow to their budget, especially with Chloe quitting her job. However, her old boss, Henry Perkins, made a few phone calls to a buddy at the Skagit County Corrections Facility. Spindler had a small Parole Office next to the police station, and they were desperate to hire. Captain Benjamin had told Henry that with his recommendation Chloe was hired.
Chloe thought it would be a nice change from being a street cop. Everything from car tickets, domestic violence calls and drunk and disorderlies were getting to her. Visiting parolees and keeping them on track would be a nice change of pace and keep her out and about in the community without having to eyeball every speeding car. It would also be nice not being eyeballed by every speeding car.
She dried her face, and after setting down the towel glanced at herself in the mirror. Her dark skin was taut and had barely begin to wrinkle at the mouth. Her deep brown eyes were clear (though the bags beneath them told of her sleepless nights), nose straight, and her mouth full. She’d learned to keep a straight, but pleasant face when dealing with the public. It suited the job, but it didn’t feel like her. It felt like a mask. Who are you? she asked the woman staring back. Chloe’s reflection didn’t respond, and Chloe took that as a good sign. She touched the faint scar on her forehead, wondering as she had a bazillion times before, where it had come from. She’d asked Tanya, but she’d said she didn’t know, and Chloe believed her. She let the thoughts go as she opened the mirror, revealing a medicine cabinet. She pulled out a bottle of Tylenol and popped a few in her mouth. Her reflection caught her eye again, and she stared at the scar in the mirror.
With a sigh, Chloe combed her hands through her long hair, then twisted it up. She slid open the vanity sink drawers, rustling through hairbrushes, teaser combs, and bobby pins searching for a clip. She found one, and found a medication bottle beside it.
Heart medication. It had a recent prescription date on the bottle.
She frowned at this, after her aunt had reduced her work load a decade earlier, her heart had gone back to normal and she hadn’t had any problems since. At least that is what she had told Chloe.
Chloe set the bottle back down where she found it, and clipped up her hair.
She walked over to her aunt’s makeup table to touch up her face, and hide the bags under her eyes. A little foundation did wonders for her appearance. She scavenged through Tanya’s expensive and colorful lipstick assortments and settled on a deep red one. Chloe’s heart did a flip flop when she read the name of the lipstick. Dead Sunset Red.
Why did it sound so familiar?
Deep in her mind, Chloe heard a voice. It belonged to an elderly woman. She said, That isn’t mine. I don’t wear lipstick!
“Hmmm…” Chloe applied the stain to her mouth, blotted on tissue, and glanced at herself in the mirror. It was a good color on her.
The elderly voice said, I’m going to the circus!
Chloe heard the tinkle of circus music. It was coming from the mirror above the bathroom sink. She turned, and the second she did, a face appeared in the mirror. Half white, half black separated by a lightning bolt and a giant red squeaky nose. It reached up its gloved hands and squeaked its nose.
Chloe touched her heart.
He wasn’t really there, she knew this. “Go away.”
He shook his head. No. The bunny ears swung gently side to side.
Chloe gritted her teeth. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she wiped at them. “Go away!”
Mr. Jingles hissed and swung his hatchet through the glass, splintering it.
It lifted the hatchet and swung again.
Chloe squeaked like a mouse, dropped the tube of lipstick and scrambled for the door connecting to the bedroom.
Just as she opened it, the mirror shattered, and she slammed the door shut behind her.
On the floor, she curled into a ball and trembled. She focused on breathing in through her nose, out through her mouth. It’s not real, she thought.
Oh yes, he is, said a deep voice in the back of her mind. Chloe opened her eyes and stared at the closed door. All her senses were aimed at the bathroom. She heard nothing. The door was raised a half an inch above the floor, she stared at the shadows beneath the door, waiting for them to move, or a giant red boot to fill the space. But perhaps the clown was standing next to the door, waiting to axe her with the hatchet? From the kitchen, the Chordettes sang about a dreamy sandman. Aunt Tanya sang along with them.
Chloe wondered if the song would have been so popular if it had been sung about dreamy clowns. The thought made her laugh, and she felt herself ease back into reality.
Chloe let out her breath and spread her fingers against the cool hardwood floor, she smelt lavender and lemon, the only cleanser her aunt would let the maid use.
It was just a flashback.
Was it? The voice asked.
Yes, she answered back with conviction. Chloe rose to her feet. Ashamed of dropping to the floor and hugging herself like a child. The flashbacks were getting out of control. She gripped the door knob, bit her lip, and opened the door a crack, peering through it like a child. The mirror was fully intact, and there was no clown hiding inside of it. She pulled the door open all the way and glanced around the entire bathroom. She picked up the tube of red lipstick she had dropped, when she heard a slight noise and she raised her head. Her gaze rested on the glass shower door. It was shut. Wasn’t it open before? Chloe walked straight for it before she could change her mind, placed her hand on the smooth metal surface of the handle and opened it.
No one was there.
“I’m going crazy.”
Her cell buzzed in her back pocket.
Chloe startled, then laughed when she realized it was just her phone, and reached for it, grateful for the distraction.
Ironically, the text was from Doctor Morgan.
Your Aunt called me.
She sounded really upset.
You okay?
Chloe typed back.
It was the clown again.
I’m fine now.
She tapped over to her email where she found an email from her boss, Henry Perkins, who had retired about the time Chloe had announced the move to Washington.
Will miss you and the family, kiddo. Be sure to let me know if you need an official recommendation letter, but I think the Captain will take care of you. God help those parolees, they’ve no idea what force of nature is coming for them. Let me know when the Jackson crew make it to Washington safely.
Chloe smiled. He was a kind elderly gentleman who had lost his own family to a drunk driver two decades before. He had more or less adopted the Jackson family as his own.
She typed back, knowing her affectionate nickname for him would make him chuckle.
Will do, old man. We’ll miss you.
Chloe went to put her cell back in her pocket when he pinged her back right away.
Old man me one more time and see if I don’t dig myself a grave and put myself in it.
Chloe laughed. Henry had a morbid sense of humor, and she couldn’t help but play along.
No need to do it yourself. Call me when you’re ready and I’ll fly down and dig it myself.
He wrote back,
Ha! That’s my Chloe.
As she hit reply, her phone buzzed again and a text from Doctor Morgan showed up. It was a long one.
Remember it’s natural to have these visions, recognizing them as false and grounding yourself is the best thing you can do. Also, try to remember what triggered it. We can talk about it at our next skype session. Good luck with the move!
Chloe didn’t feel like talking or typing about the clown anymore. She considered what to type back to Doctor Morgan when she heard her aunt’s gentle knock on the bedroom door. “Are you okay? Been in there for a while.”
; Chloe opened the door. “I’m fine. Used your makeup, I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not, we always shared makeup.” Tanya teased, “Can’t wait to check out yours in Washington.”
Chloe smiled, “You’re welcome to it, but I’m guessing NYX isn’t exactly your favorite brand.”
“True.”
Her aunt turned, and Chloe asked, “How long have you had that Dead Sunset Red lipstick?”
Tanya squinted her eyes. “Dead what?”
“It’s…” Chloe held up the tube she had dropped, and handed it to her aunt.
Tanya said, “Oh, yes,” she picked up the reading glasses that hung about her neck by a gold chain, and inspected the lipstick through the lens without putting them on. “Yes, yes, they gave it to me for free at a clothing store at the mall. It’s called something dreadful.” She glanced up at Chloe and pointed her finger, “Uh, JK Crack’s Clothing Massacre.”
Chloe made a face.
Tanya quickly said, “I only go there because I love their boots, you know the kind that tie up all the way to the knees? This came free with the boots. To be honest, I quite like this shade of red, suits my coloring and by the looks of it, suits yours too.
Chloe blushed and touched at her lips. She’d forgotten she’d put some on.
Her aunt asked, “Why?”
“Because…I remember something about it. I think my mother might have used that color. Brought back a memory.”
“Oh.” Her aunt glared at her, turned and stepped into the bathroom, her heels clicking on the floor. “Huh. Well, I’m positive it isn’t the same one, Dead Sunset Red is a special edition.”
Chloe said, “Did my Etsi like the color?”
Tanya glared at her again as she came out of the bathroom. “No, in fact, she never wore makeup.”
Chloe let the subject drop as it obviously upset her aunt.
They walked back to the kitchen together. The casserole had cooled. Tanya placed a Rubbermaid lid over the glass dish. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
They walked to her aunt’s car chatting about a YouTube video showing a boxer pooch stealing a muffin off of a countertop, then the subject switched to the current election year and the media battle between Clinton and Trump.