by Saul, Jonas
Dad had a great alibi that night. He had to work the nightshift at the private security firm where he was employed. He needed to check in every hour on the hour with an electronic device he swipes to pinpoint where he was at all times during his shift.
She had overheard her dad on the phone telling someone the police cleared him of any wrongdoing. He said the police always looked at the husband first, but he was cleared.
In the days immediately following her mother’s death, Vanessa had turned the world off. The funeral had been a blur. Feeling wayward and lost, Vanessa had wanted to join her mother in death. Now, armed with a purpose to unmask the reasons for her mother’s death, Vanessa was empowered. Something had to be done. She had a new note from her dead mother, who would not kill herself. And if her father was responsible, then he should pay for what he did, whatever that price may be.
Ten feet from the front door of the police station, a seagull squawked and flew low enough to catch her eye.
She watched as it lurched in the air, struggling to fly out toward the sea. It regained a semblance of flight but then chose to land on the grass in the park across the street.
Vanessa followed the bird’s path, pulled in by its struggle, rapt by its faith in flight and lost in its suffering. She stared until the seagull landed and waddled on what appeared to be a broken leg. Its white wings flapped while it tried to walk, but it finally gave up and slipped to the side where it lie panting.
“Hey!” someone yelled behind her.
Vanessa jumped. She spun around and glared into the eyes of a woman in her sixties.
“Why did you just yell in my ear?” Vanessa asked, trying her best to keep the anger out of her voice.
“Missy, I’d best advise you catch the tone in your voice and monitor it for anger. Better to place anger in a jar, save it for later to release it on the most worthy opponent, yes?”
Vanessa stepped back. What the hell is she talking about? And what the fuck is she wearing? A sari or something?
“Didn’t you see that bird?” Vanessa asked. “I stopped to watch it and then you came up behind me and—”
“Shhh, just shhh,” the old woman said. She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “I’m warning you. I think you might want to take the right-hand path. Do not take the left-hand path. You were spared last time. You may not be spared again. So take my advice and walk the right hand. Consider yourself warned.”
Warned?
The woman lifted her arms and moved her hands back and forth like she was about to do a magic trick at a kids’ birthday party. Her face contorted into a sneer and then her hands dropped to her sides as she gazed past Vanessa.
It was like her eyes were riveted on a train wreck, horrified but unable to look away.
The woman met Vanessa’s gaze. Then she gestured toward the grass on the other side of the road. Vanessa saw the seagull, still lying on its side, dead.
Two teenage kids from her high school walked by the bird and gave it a wide berth, commenting under their breath.
Sickened by death, angered for being startled and pissed off for being talked to like a child by this weird stranger, Vanessa spun on her heels to tell the woman what she thought of her, but the woman was gone.
“That’s fucked,” she said out loud.
“What was?” James Redfield asked.
The town sheriff walked toward her. She collected herself and took a deep breath.
“The woman who was just here,” Vanessa said.
“What woman? I didn’t see any woman.”
“She was right here beside me.”
“I saw you walking up the street and then look into the park over there and curse out loud. I didn’t see anyone talking to you.”
Vanessa frowned. “You had to have seen her. She was wearing a long blue dress of some kind. Weird-looking thing. The crazy woman had huge rings on her fingers and nasty hair. You couldn’t miss her. She acted all weird, waving her arms around and shit.”
The sheriff shook his head. “Nope, I only saw you.” He cocked his head sideways. “Are you feeling okay, Vanessa?”
Why would he lie? If he’d watched me walk up, then he had to have seen the old woman.
“Did you see the bird over there?” she asked, pointing to where the seagull lie not twenty feet from where they stood.
The bird was gone.
What’s going on?
“I don’t see any seagulls, Vanessa. Are you sure you’re feeling all right? Do you want me to call your father?”
“No! I mean, that’s why I came to talk to you. Can we go somewhere more private?”
“Of course, come in to the office. No one is here, as usual. It’s another slow day in the town of Hover’s Grove, population 2644.”
As they mounted the steps of the police station, Vanessa asked, “Why do you always announce the population number when you say Hover’s Grove?”
“Force of habit, I guess. My daddy was the town sheriff before me and his daddy before him. After the war, the population increased in the fifties and my family remained proud of this little town.” He paused to hold the door for her. “I remember growing up and hearing my father announcing the census numbers like he was proud. It’s just something we do.”
Vanessa wondered how much weirder her day would get. It was true, though. The town had remained small even after the paper mill opened up in the seventies. Her mom and dad moved them to Hover’s Grove when the mill offered her father one of the top security jobs. Since then, they’d been stuck in this little town for almost five years.
Hover’s Grove had one elementary school, one high school and one small strip mall. They had to drive an hour to get to the closest Wal-Mart, which her mother used to take her to years ago. Since her mother’s death, Vanessa had only been there once with her father, just before last Christmas. Only geriatrics and people born in the Grove enjoyed the serenity of this seaside haven. Vanessa would be gone by next year. The only other option was insanity.
“Have a seat and tell me what’s on your mind,” the sheriff said, gesturing to a chair on the other side of his huge desk.
He sat with his hands clasped over his ample belly and leaned back, waiting for Vanessa to start.
“I’ve been thinking about my mother lately and I was wondering, did she ever come to see you about anything before she died?”
James frowned and leaned forward, placing his hands together on the top of his desk. “Your mother, rest her soul, was a good woman. All I remember is she was a good person. I’m sorry how everything turned out with her passing and all.”
“Sheriff, I’m wondering if she ever came to see you about anything. Did she ever lodge a complaint with you?”
“What’s this all about, Vanessa? It’s been two years this month since she passed. Is that why you’re thinking about her again?”
Vanessa stood and looked down at the sheriff. “Is it something you can’t tell me? Or has my father asked you not to tell me? Because, you know, I don’t mean any disrespect, Sheriff, but I feel that you’re purposely avoiding my question.”
“Vanessa, Vanessa, Vanessa, come on now. It’s so peaceful here in Hover’s Grove. Whatever happened to your mother is history. I’m sorry for your loss, but you need to let it go. Digging up the past won’t help you find closure. Now have a seat and tell me what’s really on your mind.”
“I found a note.” She said it before she could stop herself. “It was written by my mother. It said she didn’t commit suicide and that my father had been abusing her. What can you tell me about this? If it’s true, I’d like to know. Otherwise I’m going to talk to my dad and then I’ll call the State Police to let them deal with his crimes.”
Her throat tightened as the last words escaped before she could stop them.
“Now, now, I wouldn’t advise getting them involved,” the sheriff said as he stood, too. “The file on your mother’s case has been closed for a long time. They aren’t going to arrest anyone on an assault charge
two years after the fact with the complainant dead. I’d recommend you let this go.” He crossed his arms.
“So you acknowledge that you’re aware of her problems before she died?” Vanessa stared at the sheriff’s face, looking for any telltale signs of a lie.
“I’ve had just about enough of this line of questioning, young lady. Everything with your mother’s case is closed and over. If you have any further questions, you should forget them or ask your father. But I recommend you let this go. There’s nothing to find in the answers but heartache and tears.”
The sheriff walked around his desk and gestured for the door. Vanessa headed for the exit but stopped before crossing the threshold.
“I have one more question—”
“No, you don’t,” Sheriff Redfield said in his stern cop voice. “We are done with this.”
“It’s in regard to something else. Would you humor me?”
The sheriff waited a moment and then nodded his head. “One question and then I’ve got a lot of work to do here.”
That’s bullshit.
“When I asked you about the bird, why did you lie to me?”
The sheriff blinked.
Got you, asshole.
“Vanessa, I didn’t lie. What are you going on about now?”
“I distinctly said, did you see that bird over there, and you said, I don’t see any seagulls, Vanessa. How did you know it was a seagull if you didn’t see it?”
It was in that moment she knew for sure the sheriff hadn’t spoken a single true word to her. He stumbled over his words. Then he became angry.
“Now you listen to me, Vanessa. How dare you march into my office, accuse me of neglect of duty regarding your mother’s case, and then question my integrity. You had better let this go or there will be a price to pay. Mark my words, let it go.”
Before she could respond, he grabbed her arm and pushed her through the door.
“Remember what I said. I’m warning you, let it go.”
The sheriff shut the door and locked it.
Vanessa shivered as she walked away. The look in James’ eyes when he said those last three words had scared her. And what is everyone warning her for? Warning her about what?
She had to talk to her father. She would find the answers or she would take her questions to the State Police and fuck Redfield.
Vanessa half walked, half ran home. Her father would be home from work soon.
She dropped her schoolbooks on her bedroom floor and grabbed her diary to read the letter one more time before her dad got home. When she opened her diary, it was empty. The note was gone.
“What the fuck?”
Someone had stolen the note. The only person who had that kind of access was her father.
A door slammed somewhere downstairs.
Her father was home.
Good. Now he can answer for what he’s done.
Vanessa, with the empty diary in her hand, entered the kitchen where her father was closing the fridge and opening a can of beer.
“Hi, Vanessa, how was your day?”
“Dad, I’d like to know what you did with the note I had in here.” She held her diary out for him to see.
“What?” he asked as he pulled a kitchen chair out and sat down. “What note?”
“I’m the only one with a key to this diary. How did you get into it?”
“Whoa there, Missy. I didn’t get into it. I’ve never even seen that diary before.”
“Well, then someone broke into our house.”
“Is that why you went to see the sheriff today? He said you riled him up a little. You want to talk about that?”
“He called you already? I was just there half an hour ago.”
Her father gestured for her to sit. “Vanessa, have a seat. Listen, I know tomorrow’s the anniversary of your mother’s death. It’s a hard day for all of us. But you need to let this go. You can’t deal with the pain by asking questions and accusing people of lying to you.”
Vanessa didn’t sit. She stared at her dad as if he were a stranger. The beer in his hand, the tired look on his face, and the pain behind his eyes didn’t match his words.
“You and the sheriff have no idea what you’ve done today, have you?”
Her father sipped his beer. “What are you talking about? I was at work all day. On my way home, the sheriff called saying he was concerned about you. So here I am, hoping to help you through the next couple of days. I even requested time off work to be with you. So what else have I done today?”
“Since neither one of you are willing to give me straight answers, I will find someone who will.”
His hand came down onto the table hard. She jumped.
“You watch your mouth. Don’t you threaten me, ever. Do you hear me? Don’t you ever threaten me. Now, these questions you have need to be forgotten. Everything is fine. The case is closed. Mourn however you want, but don’t belabor this issue. Are we clear?”
This must be the side of my father my mother spoke of.
She needed to leave.
She nodded, hoping he would let it go. When he took another swig from his can of beer, she knew it was over.
She went to her bedroom, grabbed a few personal things and left the house. In the backyard, she walked up beside the shed and stood by the oak tree. The ground below her feet looked untouched except for a small section by the wall. She dug down until her fingers touched something hard. After looking back at the house to make sure she wasn’t being watched, Vanessa dug a small box out of the ground and unwrapped the plastic that sealed it. Inside, she found twenty one-hundred-dollar bills just like her mother’s note had promised.
With the money stuffed safely in her pocket, she tossed the box onto the grass and hopped the backyard fence into the alley.
She screamed at the sight of the old woman standing in the alley, her arms waving around like a lunatic.
Vanessa edged along the fence.
The old woman tossed something from her closed palm. A powder of some kind shot out and spread thick in the air. Then it moved like a small fog with purpose, landing on Vanessa’s face.
She coughed as the powder entered her lungs. She rubbed her eyes as some of it seeped past her lids. Whatever the old woman threw at her made her feel sick.
“What … did you do?” she managed to ask.
Vanessa dropped to one knee, coughing and hacking. Blood dripped from her mouth to the cement.
She tried to look at the woman but her vision blurred.
She hit the pavement with her left shoulder.
“I warned you to take the right path,” the old woman whispered in her ear. “Now you will be my earth sacrifice. Your mother was my water and you will be my earth. It is as it is and as it will be. Die sweetly, young thing, die sweetly.”
Then darkness.
Vanessa floated between two worlds. One of sleep and darkness, the other, pain.
Her father’s voice floated through her consciousness from a distance.
What’s he doing here? Where am I?
Whack!
Something slapped her face. Vanessa tried to open her eyes but an odd stinging prevented her from doing so.
Whack!
She tried to roll away from whatever was hitting her, but couldn’t.
Hit me again and I will smack the fuck off your face.
She wrenched her eyes open. The ceiling above was old and stained. The smell of salt in the air told her the ocean was nearby. She was in one of the rooms of the lighthouse on the rocky shore of Hover’s Grove.
On either side of her shoulders were small wooden walls, almost like railings in a hospital bed so she wouldn’t roll off. She lie on her back, her shoulders, stomach, and legs all secured to the wooden contraption.
“Why the hell am I at the lighthouse?” she asked and then coughed as the powder from earlier irritated her lungs. That must be what had bothered her eyes and was making them tear up.
She struggled with her bonds. “What …
is this thing?” The sound of her gravelly voice surprised her.
“Ahh, she’s awake,” a woman’s voice. “Just in time for the witching hour.”
“Witching hour? What’s that? And why …” She paused to swallow. “Why did you throw that powder shit in my face?”
She struggled against her bonds again.
“You persisted, little lady. No one can get away with meddling in my affairs without me knowing about it. I’m a solitaire. I work alone.”