Dear Evie: The Lost Memories of a Lost Child

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Dear Evie: The Lost Memories of a Lost Child Page 7

by P. J. Rhea


  “That’s my girl. Take the cloth and wash everywhere, Evie. Get yourself clean like a good girl. You do want to be a good girl, don’t you Evie?”

  That one statement had come to be evil and scary to Evie. She was only five and wasn’t sure why his actions scared her so much or why they made her feel bad. He never touched her while she bathed, but he looked at her in a strange way and would often put his hand in his overalls and move it around. He would make funny faces and smile and even moan. If Evie tried to hurry her bath and get out too soon, he would stop her.

  “No, not yet, girlie; you’re still a dirty girl. Keep washing there,” he would instruct and point to her most private area.

  Evie learned that when he took his hand out of his overalls and walked out of the room, it was safe to get out and get dressed. She would leave the room and flee down the hall to her room. She would feel safe in her bedroom because Mama would be waiting there to read to her and tuck her in. Mama would sing to her and brush her hair. They would cuddle and talk and Mama would listen to Evie as she said her prayer. That was her favorite time of the day. When Mama tucked her into bed, she would always say the same thing before leaving the room.

  “I love you Evelyn Belle Moon. Promise me you believe that.”

  “I promise, Mama.” I woke up with the words on my lips.

  “I promise Mama.” It was the first time I heard Evie speak.

  I realized I had only been in bed for about an hour when the dream woke me. I would have to try to go back to sleep, but first I had to write in my journal. I had to talk to Evie.

  Dear Evie:

  You were so brave when the man watched you take your bath. I know it scared you and made you feel bad about yourself, but it was not your fault and you were not bad. Mama loved you and that is good to know. I’m still trying, Evie, to get to the truth of what happened to you. I won’t give up. I promise.

  Katherine

  I woke up early from what little sleep I had gotten and called Jason to tell him I was okay. I didn’t tell him about the terrible dream or the realization that I may have been sexually abused as a child. At that point I had no memory of being abused, but the fact that I knew somewhere in my subconscious that I was Evie and the things I had been dreaming about must have happened to me was not something I wanted to burden Jason with then. He had enough to worry about, and I was afraid he would insist I come home.

  I drove to Maple Avenue to see if I could find where the house had stood. Maybe a memory will come back to me if I just stood there. There was probably a new house there and a new family living in it. After all, it had been close to twenty years since the house burned to the ground. I looked for house numbers to help me determine where the house once stood. There was a garden planted in the lot between house 102 and 106. I stood on the sidewalk trying to picture the house that once was my home and once held my secret torture, I presumed.

  A woman from house 102 had been watering the plants on her porch. She started toward me. Watching her walk in my direction felt familiar and somehow comforting. Unlike the librarian, this woman did not fit the image of the typical older lady. Her silver hair was cut in a stylish, short bob, and she was dressed in jeans and a casual button down shirt and held a watering can in her hand. I could tell as she got closer to me that she also felt there was something familiar about me, but I wasn’t ready to accept that I was Evie, so there was no way I would introduce myself that way. Not even to get information from the woman.

  “Can I help you with something?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes, please,” I answered and extended my hand. “My name is Katherine Hunter, and I was wondering about the house that burned here several years ago. Do you remember the family that lived in it?”

  She looked shocked by my question. She was still holding my hand while looking at me as if trying to figure out my motive. I knew right away that she had to have known them. I recognized that look, and I knew that behind those warm and comforting brown eyes were a hundred questions spinning around just as they had been in my own mind for the last few months. She looked at the scare on my hand before releasing it, and I knew that too raised questions; but she was kind enough not ask about it.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Katherine. My name is Carla Wilson and to answer your question… yes, I remember them. Why do you ask? Are you related to them in some way?”

  The women stared at me as if trying to place my face with a memory. I wondered if she recognized me, but I wasn’t ready to answer any Evie questions just yet.

  “Yes, ma’am, I am, and I was hoping to get an idea of what happened to the children that lived in the house. I wanted to locate them if possible.”

  I hoped my asking about both of the children would relieve her suspicion as to if she had met me before. Once she stopped searching her brain for the memory knocking at it, she would feel free to tell me what she knew about those poor children from the house next door.

  “Well, I remember the lady that lived there. I owned that house and rented it to her and her little girl. Her name was Grace and she was a sweet person, very friendly and helpful… well, until Ralph moved in with her.”

  Her expression left no doubt of her opinion of the man who lived there. I was now sure that Ralph Dark was not my father and that left me wondering what happened to my real father.

  “What about the children? Did you see them much?” She nodded and smiled.

  “Well, the little boy was only four or five months old when the house burned down. I’m not really sure what happened to him, but I heard he went to live with a relative. The little girl, Evie, she was a pretty little thing. That child was as smart as they come and sweet as cotton candy.”

  This woman had loved Evie. Just mentioning Evie made her eyes fill with tears. Maybe she felt for her like a grandmother or an aunt would toward a child. For about a minute she just stared out into what I assumed were memories of time she’d spent with Evie. Time she’d spent with me. I wanted to remember, but I couldn’t. Even with my slow acceptance of who I was, my mind drew a total blank up until the age of eleven. The dreams still belonged to a little girl who was sharing her fears with me. In no way did they feel like memories that I owned.

  “She would talk to me from the backyard if he wasn’t home,” Carla continued. “I could tell she was afraid of Mr. Dark, and I think Grace was afraid of him too. It was as if a veil of sadness fell over that house every time he walked through the door.”

  She looked at me somewhat embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry, Katherine. I can’t believe I just blurted that out like that. For all I know you are related to Ralph Dark. I didn’t ask you which side of the family you were from.”

  “No, ma’am, I am related to Grace,” I said hoping to relieve her embarrassment. “I’m curious though, why didn’t she just leave him?”

  She shook her head, and I knew she had asked Grace that same question.

  “In the beginning I think she wanted to be in love. She was lonely and feeling overwhelmed when he came into her life. He was charming and encouraging and made her feel so special. But then once he was in her house, and she had become physically involved,” Carla said while making quotation marks in the air as if trying to be sensitive about the subject, “he changed, or maybe he just started being who he really was. She told me once that he said if she ever left he would hunt her down and kill her and that little girl. She believed him too. If I had been in the position to do it, I would have bought her and those babies’ plane tickets and sent them far away from him. He knew I didn’t care for him, and I admit I was afraid of him myself. I had extra locks put on my doors just because of the way he would glare at me. He had a way of looking at a person that made you feel threatened without him saying a word.”

  A shiver ran down her spine at the memory, and her eyes were watery as if the sadness of the situation still broke her heart.

  “I even thought about telling him he had to leave; after all, it was my house. But I knew he woul
d take them with him, and I felt I would be of more help to Grace if she could be next door to me. She needed a friend. Needed someone she could count on to help with Evie. Grace was so young… only twenty-six years old when she died.”

  “So, what happened to the little girl after the fire?”

  She looked at me as if the answer was tragic in itself.

  “I wish I knew. I loved that little girl like she was my own grandchild. She was really messed up from whatever that animal had done to her, plus she had bad burns on her hands. I heard that the family that took the little boy just didn’t feel they could handle her too. I think she was adopted by a nice family. I prayed for her every night for the longest time. Actually, I still do pray for her. I asked God to watch over her. I hope you’re able to find her and she is okay. I would love to see her again. I’d love to know she is okay.”

  She gave me a pleading look, as if she hoped I would confirm what I am sure she suspected, but I just couldn’t do it. I wanted to be able to someday, but that was not time.

  She gave me her phone number and asked me to call her if I located the girl, and I gave her my number in case she thought of anything else. She said she didn’t want to risk something like that happening again, so she’d just had the land cleared off and used it as her garden spot.

  I felt so guilty for not telling her that I was that little girl she had prayed for, but I didn’t feel like I was that child. It still felt like it had happened to someone else. Evie had suffered at the hands of the man, and I still wasn’t sure to what extent he had abused her. I think that it was still safer for me to distance myself from what had happened. I wasn’t sure I could handle the truth if it had happened to me and not someone I was trying to help. Dr. Anna’s words were still ringing in my ears. “A child can not heal until she is heard.” I wanted to give Evie the chance to be heard. I was disappointed that the neighbor could not remember the name of the baby or which relative had taken him. I had to try and find out more about him. Someone had to know where my brother had been taken.

  Jason was upset when I told him I would be away one more night.

  “You have a little girl at home who needs you too, Kat.”

  Why couldn’t he understand how important this was?

  “Gracie is fine, Jason, and you know it. She doesn’t need a crazy mom who is walking in her sleep, wetting herself, and forgetting to pick her up from school. This is important for her too. I need to know the truth, Jason, and until I do, I won’t be the best mom for her or the best wife for you. I promise tomorrow is my last day here. I will be home in time for her ball game tomorrow night.”

  He wasn’t happy about it, but he finally accepted it. Once I hung up with Jason, I went to a dinner to eat and just drove around hoping to see something that would seem familiar. I got back to my room early and took a long hot bath to ease the tension. I took a few minutes to write down some of what Carla Wilson had said, so I could relay it to Dr. Anna at our next session, and then I went straight to bed. I was exhausted emotionally, I suppose, more than physically and fell into a wonderful dreamless sleep. Something I badly needed.

  Chapter Six

  My cell phone woke me at six o’clock in the morning. I assumed it was Jason wanting me to get an early start home, so I answered with a slightly sarcastic, “Yes, I’m up!”

  “Oh, I’m so glad you were awake, Mrs. Hunter.”

  It was Carla Wilson, the nice lady I had talked to the day before. I was taken by surprise at her early call but tried not to sound like I had been asleep until her call.

  “Yes, ma’am, I was just about to have breakfast,” I lied. I didn’t try to explain my strange greeting when I answered the phone, and I was glad she didn’t question it.

  “What can I do for you, Mrs. Wilson?”

  “Please call me Carla. I was looking in my box of things left behind from when Grace lived in the house. She had given me pictures of the children, and I still have them if you would like to see them.”

  “I would love to, yes. I’ll be there as soon as I check out of the hotel.”

  I called Jason to be sure he knew I was up and at work finishing my quest. He seemed impressed with my early start, so I didn’t give the credit to the phone call. I almost injured myself rushing around. I managed to shower, dress, and inhale a breakfast pastry and a bottle of juice purchased in the vending machine. Then I checked out of the hotel in a record breaking thirty-five minutes. I tried not to show how excited I was when I arrived at the house, but my hands were actually shaking. Carla Wilson answered the door cheerfully, and I guessed she had been up for hours. She was excited about her discovery and rushed me in the door.

  “Come in please. May I offer you a cup of coffee dear?”

  I was glad she offered and gladly accepted. I really needed a cup of coffee and a few minutes to catch my breath and calm myself before starting a conversation. Come on, Katherine, pull it together. It is only a picture, after all. It’s probably nothing that will help. Once Carla brought my coffee to me, she sat down and handed me a small stack of pictures to examine. I hoped she couldn’t see my heart beating so hard in my chest that I could feel it pounding in my ears. The sound was so loud, it was as if I had just finished running for miles. I tried and compose myself as I took a sip of my coffee and pretended to casually flip through the pictures. The first one was Evie at about four years old.

  “How long did they live next door to you?” I asked.

  “Oh let me think. I believe Evie had her fourth birthday a few days before Grace moved in, and when Evie left… she was ten.” She was quiet for a few minutes, remembering that horrible night I supposed.

  “I enjoyed our visits so much when she first moved in. It was a comfort for me knowing the house wasn’t empty, and I loved when they would walk over and sit on the porch with me. But then one day Gracie told me she had met someone. She told me he was a wonderful caring man, and she wanted to know if I would expect her to move if they chose to live together. I was shocked at her question because Grace didn’t seem like the type to live with a man she wasn’t married to, but she explained that he wanted to wait until he had more money saved up before they married so he could make a proper home for her and Evie. She said he would have a chance to build up his savings if they lived together. I never believed for a minute that she was okay with the arrangement, but she didn’t want to lose him and he was a smooth talker. I’m sure he made her believe every empty promise he made.”

  Each time the subject of Ralph Dark entered the conversation Carla Wilson would get a look of pure hate on her face.

  “Evie was just starting school when he came into the picture. I would watch little Evie for Grace when she had to go look for work. Mostly she cleaned for people, and Evie would just go with her and help her mama. Sometimes when I wasn’t working she would stay with me. She was a dear little child. After he moved in, he wouldn’t let Evie come over very often. He insisted he could watch her. At first Evie would cry and beg to come to Ms. Carla’s house, but she soon learned to accept what Ralph said as the final word.”

  I stared at the picture of the beautiful little girl. She had ringlets of blond hair pulled back from her face with a little barrette on each side. Her eyes were bright and blue, and her smile showed that the picture was taken before Mr. Ralph Dark came to live with them. The next picture was of Evie and Grace together in an embrace. Both of them looked so happy, and the pride Grace felt for her little girl was radiating from her eyes as she looked at her daughter.

  My mother had been a beautiful woman. She had long brown hair and big blue eyes, just like mine. Her smile was one that would light up a room, and I could see that she was happy when the picture was made. The last picture told a different story. It was the family after Ralph joined it. Grace looked nervous and stressed. There was no smile on her face or in her blue eyes. Evie looked to be about nine or ten in the picture, and her face showed stress as well. She didn’t smile in the picture. Evie was standing beside the ma
n and fear was obvious in her eyes. He was a large man, not overweight, but tall and broad. His eyes seemed angry, and he had a closed smile that almost seemed like a smirk. Grace was holding a baby in her arms, who looked to be a couple of months old. The only thing I could really tell about the baby was that he had the man’s coloring. His hair, eyes, and complexion were darker than Grace’s and Evie’s. I was about to hand the pictures back to Carla when I noticed words written on the back of the last one. It simply said “Ralph, Grace, Evie, and Stephen 1992.”

  “Well, I never noticed that before. That’s right, his name was Stephen, and his middle name was Douglas after Ralph’s dad I think. I can’t believe I forgot that; but of course his daddy wasn’t too fond of me, and I didn’t get to spend much time with him before… well, you know, before he was taken away. I do hope he didn’t end up with Ralph’s parents. Grace talked like his dad wasn’t very nice, and his mom was obviously a victim of abuse or just a very submissive and meek woman.”

 

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