A Shaft of Light

by Amy Gaudette

  Brady nodded his head. “Yeah. Sure. She was your counselor. She was really nice. I used to wish I could go with you when you went out to lunch, or on one of your shopping trips. You seemed to have so much fun.”

  “We did. And I would have loved to have you come. You were always the brother I never had.”

  Brady’s eyes lit up. “I’m glad you’re back, Megan.”

  “Me too.” Megan tried to sound real, but colliding emotions undermined her effort to convince Brady.

  Brady’s gaze turned pleading, punching her in the gut before he even spoke. “Megan. Don’t leave again. Please. You coming back here is the best thing that has happened in eight years.”

  “Brady, you’re seventeen now. We can be honest with each other, right? I need to know why I can’t remember what happened in the woods. All I know is it was horrifying, and I blocked the memory of it. I can recall a lot of what happened up to that point, and very little beyond it. I don’t want to cause your family any trouble. I am not really sure what I should do.”

  Megan hadn’t meant to say all that she did. She sure didn’t want to unload on Brady. A boy, not quite a man, whose own inner struggles were very apparent.

  “I’ll help you. Mom doesn’t want me in the way. The big election coming up has taken over like a viral disease. Let me help, Megan. I might be good at it.”

  Megan gave Brady a grateful look. “Okay. As long as it’s not . . . well, dangerous or anything like that.” She gave Brady a light punch in the arm. “You still reading those detective books of yours?”

  “Yeah, some. I used to think that’s what I wanted to be when I grew up.”

  “Don’t give up on your dreams, Brady. You and I still have a lot of years ahead of us. Now. Do you want to talk?”

  “I can tell you some of what I remember, but not here. Do you want to sit in the park? It’s a short walk from here.” Brady pointed down the street.

  “Sure. Sounds good.”

  They headed towards the park. Megan’s stomach started growling. She hoped Brady didn’t hear it. She had eaten only one good meal in two days, so she was starving. They neared the park and Brady led them to a bench surrounded by evergreen bushes. It was obvious he wanted to speak in privacy. But why . . . It hit Megan squarely. Where was Brady when it happened? He’d been standing at the edge of the woods when she went in, but she had no memory of seeing him after. Where did he go? The thought had never even crossed her mind. He was nine. He might have seen or heard something. Megan began to feel a growing unease inside her. They sat on the bench, neither one seemed to know quite where to start.

  “Brady. What happened to you? Are you okay?”

  Brady didn’t speak. His hands twisted together in his lap, his gaze stayed fixed on the ground.

  And then a dam broke. “I’m sorry, Megan. I’m sorry. I should have gone with you.” His broken words were saturated in guilt. “I was at the edge of the woods . . . so scared when you went in. I wanted to go after you . . .” Brady struggled. Megan touched his arm gently. “It’s okay, Brady. You have nothing to be sorry for. I want you to know, I don’t blame you at all. You didn’t do this.”

  “I . . . was still there when you came running out of the woods. Your face was white as a ghost. You were crying . . . and screaming . . . your hair . . .” Brady stopped. His voice began to break up. “Your hair was all over, you had lost your favorite blue ribbon. There were scratches on your face.”

  Megan startled. The blue ribbon. She remembered it getting caught in a branch.

  “You ran right past me. Like you didn’t see me. I thought a bear was after you. I couldn’t run. I screamed your name, but you didn’t stop running. I just kept screaming . . . My feet felt like they were glued to the ground.” Brady glanced at her face. In a flash, she saw the pain and anguish that had been tormenting the little boy that lay hidden inside him. He was still the frightened child that stood at the edge of the woods, waiting for Megan to return with the little rabbit.

  “Brady.” Megan put her hand over his. Suffocating weights pressed hard on her. “I am so sorry. I —” Brady interrupted her.

  “I heard a noise. A loud crashing noise coming at me. The monsters that lived under my bed all rolled together in one ball, thrashing through the brush, wanting to devour both of us.” Brady couldn’t stop. “I saw him, Megan. I saw the monster. He stopped just inside the woods. He stared at me from the woods . . . just stared at me . . .”

  “Then I heard him call my name.” Brady’s voice broke. His shoulders shook as he sobbed into his hands.

  Megan didn’t know what to say.

  What had Brady seen? What had happened? Why didn’t she remember any of it?

  Brady was scaring her. Deep raw pain poured out of him, onto the ground in a big heap. Megan tried to speak, hoping to comfort him somehow. “I should have —”

  Once again, Brady stopped her, his words a rushed whisper.

  “Then I peed myself, Megan.” His young shoulders shook and he was once again her little brother and friend. Megan wrapped her arms around him and let him cry.

  Megan didn’t know how much time had passed. She realized it was getting on in the afternoon. Brady blew his nose, not even looking at Megan.

  “Brady. I want you to know how special you are to me. I am so sorry I didn’t take care of you like I should have that day. I am so glad you trusted me to tell me what you went through. Have you told this to anyone else? Your mom or dad or a counselor?”

  Brady sniffled and ran his hand across his eyes. “No. Never. I was afraid they would send me away like they did you. Later, a lot later, I tried to tell Mom. She freaked out and told me not to talk about it again. It would go away quicker if I didn’t talk about it”

  “It didn’t go away, did it?”

  “No.”

  Megan took a deep breath. She knew they were in over their heads.

  “Megan. What happened to you? In the woods, what did you see? Was it a monster?”

  Brady’s serious look caused Megan to hesitate.

  “I don’t know. I can’t clearly remember anything but the picnic, having a great time with you, and then waking up in a hospital. I have other memories but they’re just bits and pieces. Look, we’ve gone through a lot here today. Are you sure you want to keep going? Do you want to take a break and go to your place, maybe get a bite to eat?”

  “My place is a hive of bees right now. Go there and we’ll get stung. And . . . if I don’t find out the whole story today, I’m afraid there won’t be a tomorrow. I’ll go home and you’ll be gone, like before.”

  “I’m not a kid anymore, Brady. No one can send me away.” Megan tried to convince him.

  “Yeah, they can.” Brady’s face darkened.

  Megan’s skin crawled. “What are you talking about?”

  “I heard Mom talking to Dad on the cell phone. Mom was saying that she was glad to see you and all, but this wasn’t a good time with the elections coming, to stir up a hornet’s nest that was best left alone. She was worried about your effect on me. She said that at first she thought it would be good for me to see you happy and all. But then she realized you came back . . . with issues. And that I didn’t need any reminders of eight years ago. Then Mom said not to worry, not to send anyone, that her and Marie would take care of it.”

  Megan’s chest tightened and her stomach turned over. Maybe it was best she find another place to stay, for everyone.

  “This is the first time I have ever told anyone what happened. I wish we could have talked a long time ago. I’m so glad you came back.”

  Megan gave Brady a quick hug. “I think I should go back and thank your mom for letting me stay overnight, grab my bag, and move on. Don’t you agree?”

  Brady’s face froze. “You’re leaving?”

  “No. Not this time. I need to find a hotel room and make a plan. I don’t want to antagonize your family.”

  Brady looked relieved. “We’re in this together now, right?”


  “Definitely.” Megan tried to sound convincing. “Partners?” She forced a big smile.

  “Yeah. Just like the old days.” Brady’s voice was lighter, but his face still a mix of emotions. I have something for you. Here, take this.” He dug into his pants pocket.

  “Brady, I can’t take money from you. It wouldn’t be right.” Megan gasped when she saw the hundreds in his hand.

  “I want you to have it. You probably have nothing. This isn’t much. It’s just an allowance I get every month. Please take it.”

  “I can’t. What if someone thinks I took it?”

  “You can trust me, Megan. You need help. I won’t tell anyone, and no one ever asks what I do with my allowance anyway.” Brady’s eyes pleaded. “Just don’t leave again.”

  She folded her hands over Brady’s.

  “I have enough to get me through two nights in a motel I passed not too far from here. I think it was called the Sleeping Inn. I’ll stay there and try to find Nancy.”

  “Okay. And you promise you won’t leave?”

  “I promise. Brady, I really need to face what happened. I have a feeling I have run away all my life. It’s time to stop and deal with it.”

  “I’m going to head over to the arcades, then back to my place to eat. That’s normal for me, so no one should guess we’ve been talking. I’ll meet you in the morning. Will you tell me the rest of the story when you remember?”

  “Yes, as best I can. I’m going to your house to say goodbye. If they ask me if I’ve seen you, I’ll say yes, I saw you skateboarding down to the park.” Brady gave a conspiratorial smile. His eyes shone a little brighter.

  “See you later, dude.”

  Brady threw his skateboard down and took off.

  Chapter 17

  Sam released a sigh of frustration. No doors were opening. It was his second day in Piedmont, and he had been to both family centers to no avail. No one would tell him anything about Nancy. He understood privacy issues, but if she was an employee, why wouldn’t she meet with him? He was a professional. Unless . . . she didn’t work with them anymore. That would make the most sense. It also meant that Megan was most likely not getting any further than he was.

  He had tried to see Mayor Richard, but was told he was out of town on business until tomorrow. Sam wasn’t going to hand over the lab work unless it was to him personally. As far as Megan’s foster family, he had the address. He couldn’t get in. It was a gated community, under a strict no-entry protocol, and unless he could find a cell phone number, he would not be able to get in touch with them. They had no landline.

  Sam had to find out where Mr. Stanton worked. He could approach him at his workplace and talk to him about Megan. He needed to keep looking, maybe talk to a few people. It would help if he knew someone in the area. Mayor Richard. He might know where he could find some information. At least he could point him in the right direction.

  That night Sam slept better than he had in a while. Tomorrow he would get some answers.

  Light tried to peek through the thick, drab drapes covering the hotel windows. Sam squinted his eyes. He rolled over and checked his alarm clock. 7:00. He rubbed his eyes. His throat felt like sandpaper. Great. I get to meet with Mayor Richard today, and I’ll sound like a frog.

  He heaved his fatigued body out of bed, turned on the coffee maker and jumped into the shower. Drying off quickly, he dressed and headed down to the main desk. Sam needed a power drink.

  “Excuse me. Is there a juice and java shop around here?” He wanted a shot of vitamin C. If he had been at home he would have juiced his way to health.

  “Yes, there is. Head back out to the road. Go east on seven, and at the second light take a right. It’s tucked back off the street, next to a donut shop.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sam followed the directions and easily found his way. He ordered the largest freshly squeezed orange juice smoothie on the menu. He knew it was mostly psychological, but he felt better after he finished it. It did give him some much needed energy.

  He glanced at his watch. Time to meet with the mayor. Finally.

  He drove back out and headed to his office. He knew the way by now. Climbing the stairs, he realized the hard news he had to give him was not going to go over well. This was a driven man, Sam prepared himself.

  After a few minutes in the waiting room, Sam was shown in. He was immediately hit with the richness and austere furnishings the room displayed. It was obviously decorated with the impression to impress.

  “Well, Dr. Timmons, what brings you all the way out to my little neck of the woods? You didn’t come all this way to check on me, did you?” His voice rang with authority.

  “Actually, I came here trying to find a friend. But I needed to talk to you about something. Perhaps we could speak in private?” Another man hung back in the corner of his office.

  Richard didn’t move his eyes from Sam. “A friend, did you say? I certainly can help with that. Who is it you are trying to track down? Unless, of course, you’d rather not say?” The mayor leaned forward in his chair. In an instant his countenance morphed from one-in-complete-charge to man’s-best-friend.

  “Well, no. Yes. I would love any assistance you could offer. It’s just that . . . she was a patient of mine, and there’s the confidentiality issue. Wait. There is a way you could help. I am trying to find someone who used to know her. All I know is that her first name is Nancy. She worked as a foster care counselor eight years ago at the Family Center. She doesn’t work there anymore, so no one will give me any information on how to contact her. It’s about someone she counseled eight years ago. And it’s very important.”

  Richard rocked back in his wingback leather desk chair. “Hmm. Nancy . . . Nancy Northridge. Yes, I know her.” He turned toward the man who stood in the back.

  “Doug, get Maggie, will you?”

  The gentleman left immediately and returned almost as soon with the secretary.

  “Maggie. Dr. Timmons is trying to find a woman who worked as a counselor for Family Center eight years ago. Nancy Northridge. See what you can do.”

  Sam leaned forward. “Thank you, Mayor. I appreciate it very much. I also needed to discuss the results of your lab work. We weren’t able to reach you on your cell phone.”

  Mayor Richard’s door opened and the secretary came back in. She handed Richard a piece of paper. Richard glanced at it and handed it to Sam.

  “Wow. I can’t believe this. I tried everything. Thank you so much.” Sam read the paper again, printed on it was Nancy’s name and address. He folded it and slid it into his wallet.

  “Ah, yes. It helps to know the right people,” the mayor responded.

  “Now. Anything else I can help you with before we get to my lab reports?”

  Sam took a longshot. “You don’t happen to know a family named Stanton, do you? They live out at The Elms. It’s a gated community and I don’t have a cell phone number for either of them.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, what would you want with Mr. or Mrs. Stanton?”

  “The young woman I am trying to locate used to live with them. I thought there might be a chance she met up with them, and I could reach her through them.”

  “I suppose this is very important as well?”

  “I believe so, sir.”

  “Doug Stanton? Meet Doctor Sam Timmons.”

  The silent gentleman in the corner of the office stepped forward and shook Sam’s hand. His grip was strong. He was meticulous in appearance, and his steel-gray eyes were like looking at a rock.

  “What can I do for you, Dr. Timmons?”

  Sam shook his head in disbelief.

  “It’s your lucky day, Doc.” Richard cocked his head to the side, his expression bemused.

  Sam stood. “I met a young woman a few weeks ago. She had fallen from a hike up a mountain pass in our area and lost some of her memory. One thing she did remember was your family. You had taken her in as a foster child, and she never forgot your kindnes
s. I thought she might return to find you.”

  Mr. Stanton seemed guarded in his reply. “Yes, my wife mentioned she had been by. Unfortunately, she left almost as quickly as she had come. I was on a business trip and didn’t see her at all. Beverly, my wife, told me that she seemed as though she needed psychiatric care, that she wasn’t well at all. Maybe even psychotic.”

  “Oh. In my limited time with her I hadn’t seen that. Can you give me any more information?”

  “Certainly. Are you aware of the incident that precipitated her leaving about eight years ago?”

  “She told me that she didn’t remember anything of what happened. But she thought maybe she had witnessed something horrible.” Sam chose his words carefully.

  Mr. Stanton stepped closer to Sam. Concern was etched on his face.

  “That was exactly what happened.” He glanced at Richard. Sam saw an almost imperceptible nod from the mayor.

  “Megan was, is, a very troubled girl. When she was seven years old she witnessed a murder, her mother. As you can imagine, how does a seven-year-old process something as devastating as that? She couldn’t. So it took on a form that revisited her in her nightmares for years. Each year growing, morphing, affecting her reason, her logic. But she did have a wonderful counselor. You know her name, Nancy.”

  Mr. Stanton paused for a moment.

  “Dr. Timmons, Megan had a relapse that day in the park. She went into the woods chasing a rabbit for my son, Brady. It was beginning to get dark. We think she experienced a flashback. When she ran back to the park where we were picnicking, we immediately called the police. She was hysterical. Screaming and crying. The area was searched. There was nothing there. No bodies. No blood. We never heard a gunshot. Dr. Timmons, within hours of the event, she no longer remembered what had happened. She had blocked it out, or made it up.”

  A sick feeling that had nothing to do with his own health knotted in Sam’s gut. He hadn’t expected this. Based on what Megan had remembered . . . But he knew Doug could be completely right. “Wow. This is a whole new perspective on the situation.”