Night Wraith

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Night Wraith Page 11

by Christopher Fulbright


  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Carly woke in semi-darkness and took a couple of minutes to recognize her surroundings. The shapes of bookshelves and the small TV, the slanted roof of the room covered in posters. About the time her mind registered that she had stayed the night at Abi’s house, her bladder informed her that it was full and would like to be emptied now, thank you. She wished she didn’t have to go out into the hall as she’d have to creep past Abi’s parents’ bedroom to get there, but there was no postponing this till morning. The way she felt, she’d be hopping there with her legs crossed.

  She sighed, and pulled back the covers. Abi’s still shape in the bed next to her was half-curled around her pillow, breathing deeply in slumber.

  Carly wore her socks and a long T-shirt over cotton boxers, and wished she’d brought her flannel PJs and slippers instead. The skin of her legs felt exposed and tingled with night chill as she tiptoed urgently to Abi’s door and opened it slowly. The hall beyond was narrow with a wood plank floor and shaped like an L, the bathroom around the corner. A carpet runner stretched to the corner where Abi’s parents’ bedroom door stood open just a few inches. She crept on her toes past it, pulling the hem of the shirt down as far as she could and then hopping into the bathroom, clinching her teeth as she did her best to close the latch of the door quietly. She waited until the door was fully closed before she turned on the light.

  She sat on the cold toilet seat and peed. It echoed, seeming too loud in the small bathroom. When she was finished, she debated flushing the toilet, but figured it would be less embarrassing to flush than to get caught leaving yellow toilet water behind.

  She pressed the plunger on the commode. It was cringingly loud.

  God girl, what is your primary malfunction? It’s just Abi’s house, not like you’re being stalked by ninjas.

  She looked at herself in the mirror over the sink as she washed her hands and dried with the hand towel. Her eyes looked hung with rings without her make-up, and her hair was tied back, coming out of the ponytail a little on the left side. The T-shirt was more revealing than she’d thought, the shapes of her nipples perfectly outlined by the fabric, the hem of the shirt hanging at mid-thigh. It hadn’t been a big deal when she and Abi had been in the room together all these years, her mother coming up to check on them before bed. She’d been staying the night at Abi’s for roughly nine years now, on and off. Now she suddenly felt exposed. She was a young woman, now, according to her father’s own painfully voiced realizations. It thrilled her and caused trepidation to creep in beneath her usually tough exterior.

  Why do I feel this way?

  She knew, but she didn’t want to think about it now. Didn’t want to think about how the anniversary of Mom’s death was right around the corner. That Dad was probably alone at home—she might have guessed that Karen stayed the night, but she wouldn’t have bet on it. She felt guilty for leaving him there alone, even though every logical part of her knew damn good and well he was more than equipped to take care of himself.

  Take care of himself. He could do that all right. Just like Mom.

  No, another part of her said. He wouldn’t leave me. Not after the struggle it took for us to come this far.

  She’d finally admitted the truth of her feelings: she didn’t feel right leaving him alone when he was feeling down because she didn’t trust him not to do what Mom did—kill herself and leave the rest of them behind to pick up the pieces and carry on.

  Carly shook her head and gave herself a You’re Crazy look in the mirror. “Not Dad. You’re bonkers, girl.” Her half-whisper echoed in the small bathroom.

  She switched off the light, clasping the chill doorknob, turning it carefully to avoid a latching sound. She was blind in the darkness from the bright light, but she’d been down this hall back to Abi’s room two hundred times at least and knew it by heart.

  When she rounded the L-corner of the hall, her eyes had adjusted to the darkness just enough to discern the dark shape of a man. She caught a quick intake of breath and seized with fright. The shape took an unsteady step toward her and paused, swaying. She caught the fuming stench of alcohol on his breath.

  “Abi,” he breathed.

  Carly’s tongue was clay in her mouth as she tried to form the words, It’s Carly, Mr. Holman, I just had to use the bathroom ...

  His hand landed on her breast. It squeezed hard and he pushed her against the wall hung with pictures of their family’s first trip to Elitch Gardens in Denver, and Abi’s first Halloween, dressed as Snow White. The wooden floor planks transferred their chill through the soles of her socked feet to the core of her heart. She felt Mr. Holman’s clumsy hands roaming over her breasts, down her torso, over her hips. The touch of his rough fingertips on her bare thigh and his whiskered, gin-scented face pressing toward hers finally caused her to jerk away from him. Carly peeped, which was all she could vocally manage with the pressure building in her chest. She turned sideways and squirmed out of his grasp, the hem of her T-shirt snagged for a moment in his fingers.

  Fear running serious voltage to her heart, she backed slowly toward Abi’s bedroom door, staring slack jawed at Landon Holman, swaying in a confused stupor in the hall.

  Mr. Holman blinked at Carly, lost, drunk beyond means. Then his face narrowed in anger and he took one step forward again, his mouth opening and closing like a carp out of water.

  “Stop,” she said.

  He stopped.

  The sound of Carly’s ringtone sang from the muffled bottom of her bag in Abi’s bedroom. The semi-upbeat notes of her phone ringing were an awful contrast to the situation in the hall. Carly tensed, unsure what to do, until the sound of Abi’s sleepy voice drifted to her softly in the corridor.

  “Care-bear?”

  Carly swallowed and backed toward Abi’s bedroom. Mr. Holman stepped back as well, disengaging like a gun fighter who’d come to the showdown only to change his mind. As he stumbled back into the darkness of his bedroom, Carly turned and went quickly through the door into Abi’s room, closing the door behind her, slamming it too loud. She went straight for her phone, throwing the contents of her bag all over the floor until she found its glowing face. Her hands were shaking as she tried to press the green call button and receive the call. Her heart was beating in her throat, and the aftermath of her morbid thoughts in the bedroom came rushing back to her as she saw the name Dad in the readout identifying the caller.

  “Hello?”

  “Carly?”

  Every inch of her relaxed and she exhaled a shuddering breath at the sound her dad’s voice.

  “Dad!”

  “Hi angel. Sorry to call so late, I hope I didn’t disrupt the house over there.”

  Oh thank God you did, Dad. And you’re the angel tonight.

  “Never, Dad. I couldn’t be happier to hear from you.”

  He paused.

  “Is everything okay?”

  Abi was sitting up in bed, watching as Carly fell heavily onto the beanbag where she’d sat while they finished their project for school. Their poster boards leaned against the wall next to the coolers with their soda cans. Her back was to the wall, and she could see the bedroom door. Abi’s expression was unreadable in the dark.

  “Yeah, Dad. Everything’s okay here. Are you—?”

  “Just out on another case tonight. I wanted to call to let you know, in case you came by the house in the morning and I wasn’t there.”

  “Oh ... I thought you were supposed to be getting rest?”

  “Well, this was important. Another bad accident. Some kids again. Some football players it looks like.”

  “Oh my god! Ethan?”

  “No, Carly. No one I recognized.”

  “Okay.” She breathed, trying to relax.

  “Look, I didn’t want to upset you, I ... needed to make sure you were oka
y.”

  “Okay.”

  “I love you, sweetheart. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  “’Kay, I love you, too, Dad.”

  “All right, then. Are you sure everything’s okay there?”

  “Yeah, Dad. Text me when you get home tomorrow.”

  “Will do, angel.”

  “’Bye.”

  As soon as the line went dead Carly’s phone glowed in her hand a moment longer and her heart felt as though it shrank just a bit. She could breathe again, but dread lurked just below her sense of relief. The beanbag felt safe to her, hugging her, the edge of the bed a barrier between her and the door of the bedroom.

  “Everything okay with your dad?” Abi asked, her voice quiet.

  Never mind my dad, Carly thought immediately, but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything—what could she say?—until she’d had time to process it, sort out what had happened, figure out a way to approach Abi with it. Something maybe better mentioned somewhere neutral, private.

  “Yeah. He said there was another accident. Some football players.”

  “Ethan’s okay?”

  “He said it wasn’t anyone he recognized.”

  “Probably a bunch of assholes who deserved it.”

  “Abigail!” Carly’s whisper came off as admonishment.

  “Well.”

  The clock glowed its green numbers in the dark, 2:46 a.m.

  “I’m going back to sleep.” Abi fluffed a pillow and rolled over. Carly crawled up onto the bed next to her and burrowed beneath the sheets, facing the bedroom door, her phone just a reach away on the nightstand.

  “’Night, Care-bear.”

  “’Night, pumpkin-butt,” Carly whispered, poking her friend.

  They laughed, easing the tension of the past few minutes enough for Abi to drift off to sleep again. Carly lay awake the rest of the night, her left eye never fully closed, watching the doorknob, running through the implications of what the night’s events meant for her friend of ten years, and what it said about the reality of what was going on in her private life. Carly thought it explained a lot. Sometime before dawn she found herself crying for Abi. She reached over and hugged her friend close, and thought maybe she was crying for both of them.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The next morning Mrs. Holman cheerfully made them eggs and oatmeal with fruit chopped up in it, prattling on about perfect proteins and complex carbohydrates and looking stellar before her day at the office, mere hints of her age appearing in the forms of wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. Mr. Holman remained thankfully absent from the whole scene. Carly ate uneasily, jumping at any perceived sound from another part of the house. She didn’t think she’d ever been so relieved to be off to school in her life as when she and Abi headed out the front door. Sunlight broke through the battleship gray skies and made the winter world glow a brilliant white. The fog still lingered, drifting lazily in the grove of trees that composed the front yard of the old witch’s place. Still, the sun and blue sky would make quick work of it today. Already at this point in the morning, icicles on the corners of houses had begun to drip, and driveways turned muddy.

  Despite the promise of warmer weather, a bleak feeling settled inside of Carly as she and Abi chatted idly on the way to school. Carly kept telling herself that now was the time to say something about what Abi’s father had done to her last night, but she kept weighing the total devastation that might result from mentioning it aloud. Any number of results rushed through her head; that Abi would accuse her of lying; that Abi would be hurt or downright crushed; or perhaps worst of all, she would break down and admit that wasn’t the first time her father had done anything like that, that it had in fact been going on for a while now, and ... then what? Where to go from there? What could Carly say? Insist on reporting Mr. Holman and getting help? Who would testify? Carly? Would she make a statement to the police? It would be her word against Mr. Holman’s. And what if Abi wouldn’t testify?

  Maybe Abi could stay with them. She knew if Abi’s father really was doing that, really was molesting her (and God it was hard to think much less say), Dad would let her stay with them with no questions asked. And despite all of Carly’s consideration as they walked, she gave short answers to superficial questions, distracted by the massive undercurrent of everything she was thinking. And, shuddering at the memory of Mr. Holman grabbing her and feeling her in the dark, she didn’t say anything at all about last night. The idea of speaking it aloud made her heart race with fear that her friendship with Abi would crumble, and Abi’s family along with it.

  If there was one thing Carly knew that Abi wanted more than anything, it was that her mom and dad could be in love again. That they would settle their differences and everything would be okay, like it was when she was younger. Maybe it was too far-gone for that, but Abi believed it could be that way again.

  School was abuzz with news of the latest accident, and it was just a matter of time before everyone came to Carly’s locker, hoping to get an inside scoop from the police chief’s daughter. She just smiled half-heartedly, scanning the crowd in the hallways for Ethan. Instead, she saw Sadie McBay and her brood cutting a swath through the crowd like a momma duck and her chicks.

  Abi caught site of Sadie and slammed her locker closed.

  “Hey, I’m going to take our project in to the science room and then head to the cafeteria, okay?”

  Carly nodded. “I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

  “Are you okay today, Carly? You seem ... spaced or something.” Abi’s hazel eyes searched her friend’s face, and Carly thought she could almost feel the probe for truth. Carly wondered if maybe she suspected something had happened. She had a snapflash memory of coming into Abi’s room last night and slamming her bedroom door closed.

  Tell her you need to talk later. Prep her for this. Surely she knows. This is something you’ve got to say.

  And despite her best intentions to be honest, Carly’s fear got the best of her again, blocking with a swollen ache anything that might come out to that effect.

  Oh, the dark secrets we let eat ourselves inside for fear of losing those we love.

  “Just couldn’t get back to sleep after Dad called, I guess. And you snore like a drunken grandpa.”

  Abi grinned and punched her shoulder. She gathered up the boards of their science project and managed to escape through the crowd before Sadie arrived. The smile that curled Sadie’s lips reminded Carly of Cruella de Vil. All she was missing was a mink stole and a long black cigarette filter.

  “Where’s your ugly friend got off to in such a hurry?”

  Carly pulled her English book out of her locker and checked her make-up in a small oval mirror.

  “She sensed evil.”

  “Well, I just thought I’d stop by and let you know what a great time Ethan and I had last night.” Sadie shrugged with a gentle toss of her hair, propping one hand on her hip, a thin silver folder tucked under her right arm. Her vapid followers tried to emulate their leader’s attitude without much success. Maybe there was hope for them. Sadie’s right eyebrow arched over her wicked green eye. “I guess I’ve just got more experience than you. I know what a man really likes.”

  “Yes,” Carly said. “Whores usually do.”

  Carly slammed her locker. A flash of anger ignited inside of her, born from the stress of the past week worrying about her dad, coping with her own sense of loss as the anniversary of Mom’s death approached, and now what had happened at Abi’s last night. The turmoil of feelings swirled together in a sudden rage. Carly saw a flash of uncertainty in Sadie’s eyes, and though it was there just a moment and gone again, it was gratifying. Carly gripped her English book to her chest. She worked her jaws tightly, and thought about the soft flesh of Sadie’s neck between her teeth. Ahh, wouldn’t that be shocking.


  Carly’s fingers gripped the edges of her book so tight her fingertips went bloodless white with the pressure. She stood toe to toe with Sadie, exuding fury, not at all sure she could take the little bitch, but certainly willing to try.

  “Well, then,” Sadie said. “I guess I’d better be off to class.” Sadie, having collected herself, turned her nose away and the rest of them went with her. She waved her French manicured hand in the air. “Give Ethan my regards.”

  Carly stood, trembling, wishing her eyes could bore holes through Sadie’s back and set her black heart aflame. After the cheerleader and her friends disappeared into the library, Carly searched the crowd one last time for Ethan, and then headed past the counseling and discipline offices down the long hall to the cafeteria.

  * * *

  The cafeteria was bustling, as usual, aromatic with the smells of floor wax, donuts, and bacon. Lunch ladies served breakfast in the cafeteria line. Across the cafeteria, which also served as a dance floor for the middle school, was a small stage. The rest of that wall faced the front courtyard of the school. It was made up of windows looking out on the snowy front lawn.

  Ethan was talking to Abi at a long table that reflected the brilliant glow from outside. She saw their black silhouettes before her eyes adjusted to the glare of the day. Carly navigated toward them through the milling crowd of students. When he saw her coming, Ethan straightened. Her heart leaped at the sight of him, but sank a bit at his off-color and drawn features, eyes bloodshot with sleeplessness.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi.”

  “Can I get a hug?”

  Ethan smiled but it looked pained. He wrapped his arms around her and she breathed deep the scent of Irish Spring and musky cologne. Her pulse raced at his touch. When he held her, she didn’t want him to let go. She felt a nearly gravitational pull toward him in that moment, as if drawn close him to by forces outside of her influence. He seemed to release her too soon, and she absently set her books down next to Abi, an ache settling in her chest.

 

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