by Amy Gaudette
I remembered something else. Maybe not that important. Bear. Bear came to me as a gift from Nancy when I was a teen. I know I had to fight to keep him in a few of my foster homes. When I turned 18 my foster dad said if I was staying I needed a full-time job and the dog had to go. That was motivation enough to head out on my own.
Day 4
Nightmares returned last night. I finally got up and went downstairs to grab something to drink, trying to put some distance between me and the dreams. I have spent the last three hours trying very hard to forget the horrors and find the peace I felt yesterday.
I have come to the hard truth that I need to continue to write down these images, that maybe by putting them down on paper they will not haunt me anymore. I am not sure how much more I can take.
The first dream took place in a dreadful looking apartment. Rats ran across the floor. I saw one trying to climb up a baby’s bassinet. The baby was crying, and I think she had been for some time. Her little cheeks were red and her eyes swollen. She seemed to be really hungry. I stepped over a few broken dishes, a pile of dog poo, and dirty socks.
I figured someone had to be in the kitchen. The baby’s voice became a screaming frenzy. She was having trouble catching her breath. I started to panic. There was no one around. I looked in every room and there was no one in the apartment. I couldn’t find milk, bottles, nothing. I wanted to go pick her up, hold her and pat her back, wipe her precious face, but something held me back.
Next thing I knew, I was walking up the stairs with a young woman, more like a girl, and going through the door of that same apartment. There was a tall, bulky man next to her. He walked with a limp and gave off a horrible odor like he hadn’t bathed in months. The baby was still crying, but more weakly. Still, no one would go to pick her up. The man started yelling for the woman to shut the baby up. I heard her say something about not having any milk. He picked up a couch pillow and threw it at the bassinet.
A physical fight broke out. He knocked the woman to the floor. The smell around him grew worse, I thought I was going to retch. I stumbled over to check on the baby, and she had stopped crying and her skin was turning a pale blue. I felt panic wash over me, and yet I was helpless to do anything. I couldn’t move, couldn’t say anything. I felt paralyzed.
Startling everyone, the front door burst open, and three police charged in. One had his gun raised. They handcuffed the man, paramedics followed and put the woman on a stretcher, and another woman in a suit ran to the baby and picked her up. I wanted to tell everyone what had happened, what I saw, but I couldn’t. I opened my mouth but nothing came out.
I can’t write anymore for today.
Day 5
I went shopping with Rose today. Sam insisted I go, and he gave me a hundred dollars. I did everything I could think of to refuse. But the truth is I was desperate and needed another outfit plus a few personal items. I think Rose must have spoken with him. I promised to repay him. I can’t begin to describe the powerful emotions that want to be released into some fresh air when I think of Sam and Rose. I keep pinching myself to see if this is for real, or am I dreaming? I wish I could stay here forever. This is what family must be like.
I had another dream last night. This one wasn’t scary. It was odd. I dreamed I was walking down a dirt road. There were enormous empty fields on each side, both bordered by a chain link fence. A young girl, about 13 or 14 years old, sat on a chair in the middle of one of the fields. Her face was blank. Her eyes shut. The oddest thing of all, her mouth was taped shut with wide masking tape.
The scene changed and I saw her in a hospital. She was lying on a hard metal bed surrounded by a sea of angry people. Some wore white coats, one was dressed in blue, I think he was a policeman and the other two might have been her parents. I wondered if she had done something terrible.
They were all asking her to talk, to tell them what happened and everyone was talking at once. All those people around her bed, all those faces looking at her, wanting something from her. The young girl’s mouth opened, as though she were trying to talk, but nothing came out. She closed her eyes again and then she disappeared.
Day 6
It’s pouring rain outside today. I haven’t even gone down for breakfast. I can’t write fast enough. I counted at least five homes I was in since I was seven or eight. I don’t remember the exact age. The family that impacted me the most was the one I was with when I turned 14. We had such good times together until the day of the picnic.
We had gone on an outing in Thomas State Park. Brady was my shadow and five years younger. The brother I never had. Anything I wanted to do, Brady wanted to do. We used to go everywhere together, and this was my favorite place.
We were swinging when Brady saw a baby rabbit and ran after it. He was headed into an area of woods that was thick with brush, and really dark. I ran after him and stopped him at the edge. There was something creepy in there, and I didn’t want him going in. Brady looked at me with those big chocolate eyes of his and begged me to get that bunny for him. I didn’t want him to know I was scared, and I was not good at refusing him. So off I went. I told him to stay there and wait for me. The light was fading, and the forest began to creep me out. I moved as fast as I could, searching for the little bunny. Without warning a large black bird began screaming overhead. I looked up and saw its large beady eyes staring down at me. The terrifying bird’s hideous ear piercing screech tore to pieces what little courage I had left. Wings beat down on me and I turned and ran. But that’s all I can remember. I know there’s more. I need to remember more. But there’s a wall and I’m not sure I want to see past it.
Day 7
Nancy. A wonderful memory of a wonderful person. I recalled who Nancy was. She had a beautiful smile. Long gray hair tied back in a braid. She sang like a songbird, too. I felt very safe with her. She was my counselor. She often checked up on me when I was moving to a new home, or when there was trouble at school. I can’t remember her after the picnic. Maybe that’s because I still can’t recall anything before or after waking up in the hospital. It’s so frustrating. I want it all, now. Where was I? Did I move again? Was I injured? I need to find out. I need to see if I can find the family that I was with when it all happened.
I am terrified of returning. I am almost as terrified of never knowing who I am, or who I became after that day. If the rest of my memories don’t return soon, I will have no choice but to go back to Piedmont and see if I can find my foster family as well as the answers I need.
Day 8
Terrible car accident near the town last night. Someone saw a small sports car weaving in and out of traffic, others said it was too foggy to tell. Whatever caused it, there was a six-car pile up, and two cars went off the edge. Amazingly, no one was killed. There were many injuries, though. Some of them very serious. That, on top of the death of Rose’s dear friend, has made me realize I cannot intrude on Sam and Rose any longer. They both have their own lives, and I must move on. I will hitchhike back to the town I remember most vividly. Piedmont. Someone there must remember me. I will see if I can find my foster family, and maybe they can tell me what happened after the picnic. I hope I can return here someday. Not broken down, like I am now, but driving a car, and feeling like a normal person. Someday . . . I will repay Rose and Sam for all they have done for me.
Sam dropped the journal in his lap. That was the last entry. What a load of information. He wanted to think things through, to formulate a plan of action. But fatigue won, Sam nodded off to sleep.
Bear lay at Sam’s feet. His eyes alert, his breathing slow. He saw Sam asleep, and knew he was in charge now. He would let no harm come to this house. Megan trusted him to take care of this family, and he would. Bear felt the dark of night hiding an even deeper nebulous form. A shadowless shape skulked here and there. Bear felt it. He gave a low, steady growl. His master slept. He would not. Bear lay awake all night until the horizon gave way to the dawn.
Chapter 13
Megan’s bus rid
e was uneventful. She was so relieved to be pulling into Piedmont, she almost forgot her backpack. Stepping off the bus, her legs felt weak and her heart ached. Disappointment tugged on her spirits, as she realized she recognized nothing around her. The mountains in the distance looked farther away than she remembered them. A tall brick building loomed in front of her. Pɪᴇᴅᴍᴏɴᴛ Bᴜs Dᴇᴘᴏᴛ. She went inside and approached the first person she found who looked official.
“Excuse me. I was wondering if you know where Elm Street is?” The weighty man lumbered to a wall behind him. His chubby fingers flew over the map.
“Yup. You’ll need some wheels. Good ways from here. Head back out the front door. Take a left. Follow Main Street until it intersects with Barrows Drive. Follow Barrows Drive until you pass Meadow Elementary School . . . you getting all this?” He looked at her doubtfully.
“Yes. I used to live here. I think I remember that school.”
“Well, okay then. At the school, take a right onto Meadow Lane, and keep going about a mile. You should see signs for Elm Street. Only you should know, it’s not Elm Street anymore. It’s The Elms. A high-end gated community. You can’t just walk in there.”
He looked her over with his wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose. Like she was a bug under a microscope.
She thanked him and headed to the door as fast as she could go without drawing any more attention to herself.
Once outside, she headed off towards the school. Megan gave herself a pep talk. I know I’ll recognize more as I go on. And I’ll figure out what to do, once I get there.
The way was long, much longer than she realized. Her feet ached in her cheap shoes, and fatigue threatened her whole body. Sleeping on the bus wasn’t a great way to prepare for this. After what seemed like hours, with two breaks on benches along the way, Megan saw the school. Her heart flipped in her chest, her stomach felt like she had eaten a brick. She knew where she was. This part of her life suddenly became very clear. She had to continue. She had come this far.
Rounding the last corner, Megan approached Elm Street, or what used to be Elm Street. There was now a solid rock wall surrounding a small community of extravagant houses. The trees towered above the street, looming like sentinels on guard. Megan stood frozen. The gate was opened only by remote control, and by the looks of it, she needed to key in a code.
Megan wanted to sit down on the curb and cry. She had no idea what to do. She had to not only pass through a coded gate, but then a manned gatehouse as well, another ten yards in. She was too exhausted to leave, and too exhausted to stay.
She sat down under a tree, meaning only a brief rest. Stepping off the bus had made her feel extremely vulnerable and exposed, she knew she shouldn’t linger.
“Excuse me, miss.” Megan jumped up. Standing too close was a man wearing a security uniform and badge.
“You’ll have to move on, miss.” He wasn’t unkind, but it didn’t matter. The tangible fear of always having to look over her shoulder impacted her physically.
Megan grabbed her backpack and quickly walked off. Caught up in her own pain, she did not hear a car slowly approach.
“Hello.” A voice jolted her sharply. She spun around, facing the car.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. By any chance, are you Megan? Megan Santle?”
Megan stared at the woman driving a shiny BMW. She looked so familiar. Was it possible? “Yes . . . yes I am Megan. Are you . . .”
Megan didn’t even finish the question. The woman opened the door of her car and approached her. High-heeled shoes tapped emphatically. Megan froze, but only for a moment. It was her. It was her foster mother from when she was a teen. She could not believe her luck. Or was it? Maybe there really is a God. Maybe . . .
“Mrs. Stanton. I can’t believe you remembered me, let alone recognized me.” Megan fought to hold back the tears that were threatening to release.
“Please, call me Beverly. I always had to tell you that, didn’t I? I always wondered if you would show up again someday. Well. This is quite something. What on earth are you doing standing out here?”
Megan blanked. How was it possible that she could feel so small next to someone she was actually taller than? Her mouth went dry.
Finally Megan found her voice. “I . . . was looking for y-you, actually.”
Beverly’s fixed smile never changed.
“Well. You found me. Come on. Let's go home. I think we’re blocking traffic here.” She smiled and grabbed Megan’s bag. They got into the car and drove up to the gate. Beverly punched in the code and drove down the street until they reached a spacious fieldstone house with green shutters. It was bigger than Megan remembered. She could see a large tree covered in apples dressing up the front yard. Fond memories of climbing its branches came back to her.
“I’ll bet you don’t recognize much anymore.”
“So much has changed,” Megan commented as they came to the end of the winding drive.
“I know one thing that has. You. You’re a beautiful young woman, and you’re talking. When they took you away from us, you hadn’t spoken in a week. They were afraid you . . . well . . . we don’t need to get into that do we? I want to hear all the news. Where did you go from here? Are you married? Kids? What do you do for work? Tell me all about yourself.”
Megan felt such turbulence inside, she felt sick. “Mrs. Stanton . . . I mean, Beverly, you don’t know where I went, or what happened to me?” Megan's voice weakened.
They had pulled into a three-car garage and sat.
“No. Of course not. You were taken to what they called a ‘safe place’ due to what they thought you might have seen. I told them you had an overactive imagination, but did they believe me? No. They didn’t want anyone knowing where they had moved you. It broke our hearts, let me tell you. And Brady. You’re . . . still having memory issues?” A shadow passed over Beverly’s face and disappeared so fast Megan wasn’t sure she had seen anything at all. She swallowed hard.
“Brady. How is he?” Megan was afraid to ask.
“Brady took it hard. You were his big sister. Even if it has taken eight years he always believed you would some day return. Now, wait until Brady sees you and sees you’re okay. We always wondered, of course . . . but this time we focus on the good things, right?”
Conflict played across Beverly’s face. Megan tried not to read into every nuance, but the turmoil was real. She seemed glad to see me at first. I’ve played this moment out so many times, I guess I never thought about what they had gone through after I left, only what I had been through. Was she projecting? Megan had gotten pretty good at reading people, but Beverly was a mystery.
Megan took a deep breath. Now that she was here, she needed to make the best of it. She knew running away solved nothing. She had to face what she had been running from — whatever that was. There was still the hope that being here would trigger more memory return. Mixed feelings tossed and turned inside her when she thought of seeing Brady. She wanted to, but Beverly’s reaction to her mentioning him threw her off balance. Was something wrong? Brady would be seventeen now. His parents seemed affluent enough to send him to any college he wanted. There was always a chance he wouldn’t even care to see her.
Megan didn’t have to wait long to find out. They had been in the house no more than a few minutes when a slightly built teenager walked into the kitchen. His hair unkempt, hunched at the shoulders, Megan’s first thought was that she was looking at an old man in a young boy’s body.
Brady stopped in his tracks when he saw her. He stared hard. Megan knew it was him. She would never forget those deep brown eyes.
“Megan.” It was more of a statement than anything else.
“It’s me.” Megan wasn’t sure if she should hug him or not. She could see shock setting in.
He took a step towards her, and she to him. Next thing Megan knew, Brady’s not- so-little arms wrapped themselves around her. She embraced him back. She knew Brady was t
rying not to let tears flow. Megan stepped back and smiled.
“You’ve grown.”
“You came back.”
Brady would not release his gaze from hers, as if he couldn’t believe she was really here.
“How are you, Brady?” Megan wiped the few loose tears.
“You came back.” Brady repeated.
“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner.” What, exactly, had kept her away?
Beverly hadn’t said a word since Brady came in. Her face momentarily unmasked, cut by a deep frown. Her expression was stony, and yet, in the eyes, there was something more . . . pain, perhaps, but why? Megan had no idea how their lives had been after she had been taken away.
“Brady. You have the same gorgeous eyes as ever.” She tried to lighten the moment, but Brady’s face was etched in stone. He still seemed to be in shock.
“Megan. What happened to you?” Brady’s question cut hard. She tried not to let it show.
“I wish I could tell you, Brady. I came back here to try to find some answers.” She turned and looked at Beverly. Her face was impassive. Megan felt lost. “In short, about two weeks ago, I was hiking on a trail over near Rogan’s Pass. I fell, and when I came to, I was in the hospital. I couldn’t remember much about myself. It was a small town, so the doctor there let me stay in a home he had, but didn’t use much. Rose, his housekeeper, took care of me, until I could recall more of what had happened. I can remember growing up in foster care. I remember this home, and all of you. You were obviously the best part of my childhood. But I can’t remember what happened after . . . after the picnic. I know I woke up in the hospital and couldn’t speak.” Megan froze. One look towards Beverly and she knew she had said something wrong. She fumbled over her words. “I . . . I know I was sent away . . . not by you, I mean, but . . . I remember so little. More like bits and pieces of a puzzle. I came back hoping someone could help. I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” Megan had known times when she wanted to disappear and this was one of them.