Whispers and the Roars

by K. Webster

“Kady…”

  Kady. Kady. Kady.

  I don’t want to be in this room where my daddy does things that make my skin crawl. I don’t want to be in this room where the boy named Bones watches what happens to me late at night when all the lights go out.

  I’m sobbing with my eyes slammed shut when I hear the sounds. Slapping and hitting and grunting in anger. Bones is fighting with my daddy.

  “You’ve lost your damn mind!” Daddy snaps.

  I rock and murmur to myself in an attempt to fade away completely. I don’t want to be here. I want to be far, far away from here.

  “Go hide, Kady,” Bones tells me, his voice firm and fierce. “I’ll find you when it’s over.”

  Minutes or hours pass, I’m not sure. But when I reopen my eyes, Daddy is gone. I flick on my lamp and am horrified to find blood on my sheets.

  “I kicked him in the nose,” Bones says, his tone triumphant.

  I search for the boy, but he’s hiding too well. “Where are you?”

  “Always watching. Always waiting. Always wanting to help. Tonight is the first time you let me.”

  “I don’t know you. Where are you?”

  He laughs. “Right behind you, Kady. Always right behind you. I have your back.”

  Frightened tears roll down my cheeks. I look down at my nightgown and am thankful it’s still on me. That my panties are still on my body. Bones protected me.

  “Thank you.”

  “It was nothing,” he says shyly.

  I swallow and shake my head. “It was everything. You saved me from him.”

  The room grows quiet and I fear he left. “Bones? Please don’t leave me!”

  His warmth cloaks me and I can feel his smile. “I’m yours now. I’ll never leave. Not ever.”

  * * *

  Yeo

  “Um, what the fuck just happened?” Barclay demands, sitting up in his seat. His face is white as a sheet.

  My mother and Patty both have tears in their eyes. Dean and Dad wear matching scowls. And Barclay looks as though he may be sick.

  “Norman.”

  My eyes flit to the table. The new table. Where he carved his name in the new wood. Everyone sat there in shock as he viciously cut into the table as he hissed out disgusting things he wanted to do to his daughter. I was too caught up in seeing his evil face to do a damn thing. Thankfully, Bones rolled in like a fucking hero, and got rid of him.

  “I’m in the fucking Twilight Zone,” Barclay mutters.

  “Listen,” I start. “Just listen.”

  Each pair of eyes are wide as saucers. I see the horror written all over their faces. I sense the curiosity mixed with fear radiating from them.

  “Please stay. I’m going to go check on things upstairs.”

  Dad gives me a clipped nod that promises he’ll keep them all seated and waiting. I bolt from the table and bound upstairs calling for Bones. He’s not in Kady’s or his room.

  “Bones!” I shout as I stalk down the hallway.

  A sweet voice calls out from the room at the end. “Oh, pumpkin,” Agatha says when I step through the doorway. “Norman really knows how to make a mess of things.”

  I’m thankful to see the voice of reason in this bunch spritzing on some rose-scented perfume. She’s wearing a silky floral print shirt that once belonged to Kady’s grandma Ruth and a skirt. I watch as she pulls her hair into a bun and then lathers her arms up with her thick cream. Once she slides on some gaudy pearls, she then pushes her bifocals onto her face. They slide to the end of her nose where they typically sit.

  “Let’s go meet your family, pumpkin.”

  I follow behind Agatha as she shuffles down the hallway toward the stairwell. She pauses at a picture of Ruth and Kady, swipes at the dust on the top, and groans. “This house is becoming too much to keep up with in my old age. One of these days we’re going to downsize.”

  I smile at her. “Thanks for doing this with me. You’re the only one who can make them understand, I’m afraid.”

  She pats my arm and then loops hers around mine as we descend the stairs. Hushed whispers sound from the dining room as we round the corner. Dad’s gaze flits over to Agatha. A million different expressions flit over his face: anger, sadness, confusion, and then understanding. My father understands.

  “Everyone,” I say, my voice husky and raw. “This is Agatha. She made the lasagna. Keeps me fed when I come to visit.”

  Dean nearly chokes on his water.

  Barclay’s eyes are as big as saucers. “What the fuck, man?”

  “Language, young man,” Agatha chides, pointing a long finger at him. “There are children in the house. Presley is quite the mockingbird.”

  Barc shoots Dad a questioning glare but Dad ignores it.

  “I’m Fletcher. This is my wife and Yeo’s mother, Gyeong, my boys Barclay and Dean, and my daughter-in-law, Patty. Pleasure to meet you, Agatha.” He stands and strides over to her. When he takes her hand in his, Agatha blushes.

  In all my years I’ve known her, she’s never once blushed like that.

  “Well, aren’t you the gentleman? Yeo has told me nothing but lovely things about you, Fletcher. About you all in fact,” Agatha says with a broad smile. “I see the lasagna was to your satisfaction?”

  Barc groans and pats his belly as if just now remembering how he ate three helpings.

  “Please, have a seat.” I motion to Kady’s place. Agatha walks over and sits. Her eyes flit down to the new kitchen table that’s been scarred with Norman’s name and she frowns.

  “That rat bastard,” she hisses.

  I’ve never heard the woman swear. She’s pissed.

  “He made an appearance. Bones ran him off.”

  Her eyes scan the group. Everyone is fascinated by Agatha. “I do apologize. Kady was worried he’d show up. The girl is already so terrible at social gatherings. I know she was terrified something bad would happen and you all would hate her. Please don’t hate what isn’t her fault. Kady is a good girl.” Agatha’s eyes, which look huge behind her bifocals, drop to her lap. “Once you all understand her, I pray to our Lord, you all will grow to love her. Kady has had a rough life. She deserves a happy one. This boy here is the only person I know who makes her smile and forget her past.”

  Dad clenches his jaw. My mother and Patty are speechless.

  “Why don’t you show them the book while I dish up the pie, pumpkin,” Agatha urges as she stands back up. “Anyone want coffee while I’m up?”

  Dean mutters something about needing a stiff drink but is silenced when Dad waves his snide comment off. “I’d love a cup. Gyeong will have some tea if you have it, Agatha.”

  Agatha blushes again and nods. “Certainly.”

  When she’s out of earshot, Dad snaps his head over to my brothers. “Enough.” Then, his eyes find mine. “Let’s see the book.”

  Swallowing, I walk over to the hutch where the book sits. It took a long time to create the book. Many pictures. Many years. Many confusing moments that still don’t make a whole lot of sense.

  I pick it up. It’s a scrapbook of sorts. Not terribly thick but it explains so much. I set it down in front of my dad. Everyone cranes their necks to see what I have to share. Opening it, I turn to the first page.

  “You are terrifying and strange and beautiful, something not everyone knows how to love.”

  Warsan Shires’s words in my messy teenage writing says everything. That quote is my Kady.

  “This is officially getting creepy,” Barc groans. Patty swats at him and he quiets down.

  I flip open to the first page.

  Kady.

  Messy brown hair. Bright blue eyes. A secretive smile on her face. At sixteen, she was every bit as beautiful as she is now. The girl in the picture is my Kady. The girl I’ve chased and loved since I was ten years old. I love her.

  “What I’m about to show you is going to hurt or be confusing but I need you to stay with me. Please,” I urge.

  Flipping the page, I
hold my breath.

  Bones.

  Messy brown hair. Bright blue eyes. A wicked smile on his face. At sixteen, he was every bit as naughty as he is now. The boy in the picture is my Bones. The boy who’s been there with her through it all. I love him.

  “What the fuck? Why are you showing us this?” Dean demands. His eyes linger on Bones’s bare chest in the picture and it’s far from sexual. It’s confusion. Bones has a joint between his lips in the picture and a package of Cheetos on his belly.

  “That’s Bones,” I murmur. “Bones is my best friend—Kady’s best friend. And he’s…”

  All eyes meet mine in question.

  “He’s an avenger alter.”

  Agatha clangs around in the kitchen and I swallow.

  Flipping to the next page, I smile.

  Agatha.

  Neat brown hair pulled into a bun. Bright blue eyes hidden behind bifocals. A kind, gentle smile on her face. The woman in the picture is my Agatha. I love her.

  “This is fucked up,” Barc murmurs.

  Dad speaks, his voice a hushed whisper. “Go on.”

  I turn the page and chuckle.

  Presley.

  Cute brown pigtails. Wide blue eyes. A crooked, sticky grin on her face. The girl in the picture is my Presley. I love her.

  “Presley,” Dad murmurs. “From the ice cream shop.”

  Mom’s face is sad and tears well in her eyes. She pats my Dad’s shoulder.

  “Agatha is a protective alter. Presley is a child alter,” I explain.

  “Dude,” Barclay says softly, “what this hell is this?”

  “Is she a schizo or some shit?” Dean questions.

  Swallowing down my anger at his rude generalization, I shake my head. “Schizophrenia is a disease more complicated than my Kady’s. She doesn’t hallucinate or have delusions. Kady has Dissociative Identity Disorder. You may know it as Multiple Personality Disorder.”

  Everyone, including myself, lets out a collective breath of air.

  I continue. “This disorder, although extremely rare, is brought on by severe traumatic events to help the person cope with whatever heinous thing they’ve been forced to endure. Kady was sexually and physically abused as a child by her father. Norman. Eventually, she witnessed her own father brutally murder her mother.” Glancing over at his newly carved name, I shudder with rage. Patty starts to cry as realization sinks in. “Bones was her first alter. Her mind created him to help her escape and cope with what Norman did to her. Bones has been protecting her ever since.”

  When I flip the page, I laugh. Whiskers is sitting on the countertop in the picture lapping at warm milk. The only cat I’m not allergic to. Lazy blue eyes and one of those arrogant kitty smirks on his face. He’s my cat. I love him.

  “Sometimes these alters aren’t the host’s same sex or even species. They’re called non-human alters. Whiskers is a black and orange tabby cat. He’s old and spoiled. Loves when you scratch behind his ears,” I explain.

  “How many of these alters does she have?” Dad asks. His eyebrows are drawn together as he attempts to understand.

  “Nine.”

  The room is silent as I flip the page.

  “Aunt Suzy. She’s like an aunt. Suzy is an extreme coupon cutter. It is my understanding that Suzy is the mother Kady never really had. Her own mother was a shell and under her father’s thumb until he squashed her once and for all. Suzy is the one who shops for the family and runs errands.”

  “Family,” Dean murmurs. “But it’s just the one. The one person living here. Kady.”

  Gritting my teeth, I nod. “They all work like a family. Each one knows about the other. They don’t actively talk to each other in her head or anything from what I’ve gathered—although I’m not exactly sure about that. Agatha developed a note system for them. Notepads can be found all over the house. It’s how they communicate effectively. One of the alters I know for sure can directly communicate with her, though.”

  “Bones.” Dad is paying attention I can see.

  “Yes,” I tell him. “They still leave each other notes but they can speak to one another from time to time.”

  I’m about to flip the page when Agatha comes shuffling in passing out plates of pie. This time, they all regard her with new eyes. Eyes of understanding although they’re more curious now.

  “This is delicious, Agatha,” Mom says, complimenting the old woman.

  Agatha smiles at her. “Thank you, sweetheart. Would you like some cream and sugar for your tea?”

  I remain still beside my father as Agatha flits about the dining room making sure everyone is cared for. Once she settles in Kady’s chair, I flit my gaze her way. She nods and gives me an encouraging smile.

  “Go on, pumpkin. Tell them about our girl.”

  “This is Officer Joe,” I tell them, pointing at the figure staring back, dark aviator shades over his eyes. He’s serious and stern but protective as can be. “He’s also a protective alter. After Norman killed her mother, Officer Joe was at her side promising to keep her safe. He comes around to check on her. And he also helps keep them away so they won’t hurt her.”

  Dad’s gaze snaps to mine, anger working his jaw muscles. “Who’s them?”

  “Kenneth,” I say with a hiss as I flip the page, “is what they call a self-destroyer alter. He’s depressed and self harms.” I can’t even look at his face. In the picture, he’s staring at the knife in his hand as he runs it across his thigh. Once I left for college, his preference of self-harm was cigarette burns on the inside of his thighs.

  The scars on Kady’s legs—scars he put there—make me quake with rage.

  “Fuck.” Barclay’s one word just voices everyone else’s thoughts.

  Turning another page, I groan. “Pascale. He’s a drug addicted loser. A fucking thug.”

  “Language, Yeo,” Agatha chides. She’s not too angry, though. She hates Pascale too.

  With a sigh, I turn to Dean. “Pascale hangs out with the wrong crowd. He carries a gun and deals drugs. He’s dangerous to Kady. I don’t like how he drags her to God knows where to do God knows what. He’s a persecutor alter.”

  “You learned all of this in med school?” Dad questions, awe in his voice.

  “The technical stuff, yes. But I didn’t need a textbook to explain that Kady was all of these different people in one body. When I was introduced to Bones by her grandma, I knew. I’d somehow wiggled my way into her world and there was no getting out. I didn’t want to get out. I needed to know them all because…”

  “They’re all her,” Dad says softly.

  Nodding, I turn the page. As soon as I see his face, I seethe with rage. “You met this asshole tonight,” I growl. “Norman. Her fucking father.”

  Dean lets out a huff. “You mean to tell me one of her alters is her dad? How in the hell does that shit happen?”

  Running my fingers through my hair, I shrug. “I don’t know. Norman came onto the scene after Louise died. The real Norman is in prison for life. But he’d become such an evil in her life. She’s mentally worked so hard to protect herself from him through the years, creating alter after alter, that when he was finally gone from her life, Norman came back. This time, as a persecuting alter. One she’ll never get away from.” I sigh in frustration. Mom squeezes my hand to comfort me.

  “She needs help,” Patty murmurs.

  I snap my gaze to her and glare. “She has help. She has me. I’ve always been there to help exorcise the bad ones from her. But she loves the good ones. The good ones protect her and shield her from all that hurts her. At dinner last week, you all were the ones hurting her. It was Bones who came to her rescue and saved her. Kady doesn’t need help—not from some institution. They’ll only dope her up with meds that aren’t going to work. Kady just needs love. She needs me and Bones and Agatha. She needs her alters she’s befriended. Together, we drive away the darkness in her mind. Together, we are her light.”

  Agatha shifts uncomfortably in her sea
t. “Who wants seconds?” she sings but I sense her unease despite the singsong voice.

  Everyone turns to look at her, their gazes assessing the old woman. To me, I see Agatha. They’re all so different from one another. Each alter. But it’s the world who doesn’t know Kady that seems to have trouble adjusting.

  Kady is still beautiful hiding beneath the old lady glasses. Her perfect breasts can be seen through the floral blouse. Those plump lips now caked with an orangey colored lipstick were all over my cock just hours ago.

  But despite her looking like Kady in an old woman’s disguise, it’s not her. The beautiful woman before me is Agatha. Agatha is her own person.

  “How do you keep the bad ones away?” Dad asks, his eyes darting over to Agatha as he pushes his empty pie plate toward her.

  She beams at him and collects it to fetch him more pie.

  “Bones and I do it. He works from the inside and I work on the outside. I don’t exactly know what he does inside her head but he scares them. Bones can be…” I smile. “Unconventional.”

  “You love him,” Patty whispers, her voice dumfounded.

  I think of Bones. My best friend stuck inside my girlfriend’s body. Fucked up. When he tatted his nipple with my name, he tatted hers. He tatted Agatha and Presley and the fucking cat.

  “I do. I love most of her alters in some way.”

  “What do you do?” Dad asks. “On the ‘outside.’”

  I sigh and pace beside the table. “I try not to physically hurt them. Only intimidate them. Sometimes things do get physical.” Regret shreds my voice. My eyes flicker to Agatha’s neck as she reenters the room with Dad’s pie. A yellowish fading bruise colors the side of her neck. A bruise I’d given to Pascale when I put him in a choke hold so he wouldn’t shoot my ass.

  “But you do hurt them sometimes?” Dad questions with a growl as he takes it from her.

  “Bones and I do what we can to stop them from ultimately hurting Kady. If that means physically restraining them or on occasion having to knock them out, it’s what I do. I’m not proud, Dad, of having to do that shit but I have to. Because if I don’t keep them from hurting her, one of them will kill her. Kenneth scares the hell out of me because one day I’m afraid he’s going to cut open her wrists and I won’t be there to keep it from happening.”