by S. B. Niccum
“Why?”
“Well … you saw her room. She’s deranged. We’ve never gotten along, not from day one. We avoided each other like the plague.”
“I think you know more about Agatha than you’re letting on,” he stated calmly.
I shrugged, and then thought of the book. But that was a dream, a very real dream, but a dream nonetheless. Besides, even if it had been real, the book was gone. I guess I could tell him about the voices…but then he’d have me committed. I sighed. This was an impossible situation. “Look, she was mental, okay? I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I think she dabbled in witchcraft, voodoo and other weird stuff. She also mentioned to me once or twice that she could hear voices. She’s probably schizo.”
“Her bedroom wall would certainly attest to that,” he added calmly and jotted some things down on a pad of paper. He then looked back up at me and studied me carefully for a few seconds. “What did she say the voices said?”
“She didn’t tell me what they said, she just said that she could hear them and that they got loud,” I said, and for the first time in my life I felt a bit sorry for her. Was Agatha schizophrenic or was she being haunted? If she was schizophrenic, then maybe I was too—I heard voices.
“So you two didn’t get along,” he verified.
“No—Yes. We did not get along!”
Detective Lovell studied my face, then narrowed his eyes. “You are taking this rather coolly.”
I shrugged again. What was I supposed to say? I wasn’t sad she left, I wouldn’t wish her any harm, but I certainly wasn’t going to hold a vigil in her name.
He stared at me sharply for a few seconds. “So what do you think about the note?”
“The note? What note?”
His brown eyes dug into mine with alarm. “You didn’t see the note attached to the cat’s neck?”
“No,” I said, breathlessly. “What did it say?”
“Tess. It said, Tess.”
Agatha’s disappearance marked a new beginning for me. All the happiness and hope that I had felt from my Christmas gift was gone. I no longer felt sure of what was real around me anymore. Celeste tried to convince me that she was real, but that only depressed me more, so she left. School turned into an endless cycle of days that blended into each other, I dropped swimming because I had lost whatever it was that propelled me forward. I still studied and got good grades, but I did that for Dorian, not me.
I joined the crochet group with the grandmas because it was soothing and they didn’t make me talk. They were happy, content women who mothered me with tea and pastries. They never asked about my gloominess, they just taught me the crafts of knitting and crochet, and reminisced about the past. I loved to hear them talk about their lives; they reminded me of Celeste. But Celeste was not real, I decided. And even if she were real, she was dead and not part of this realm, and I was better off without her. My life was complicated enough without voices from the great beyond.
The room that Agatha had occupied for so long was eventually remodeled and a new girl came to occupy it. Charlotte tried to move me in there, but Dorian refused to share a room with another boy, so our sleeping arrangement remained the same, and magically undisturbed by all of the state workers. The new girl, Meg, was nice; she had been in and out of foster care due to her mom’s drug addiction. Now, her mom was in prison for good, and Meg was finally free to start her life.
Meg was young, twelve years old; but she knew a lot more about life than most girls do at that age. She and Charlotte hit it off right away, and for the first time, I saw Charlotte in the mother role. She seemed to take it right up with Meg, no nagging about the cost of having foster children in the house, no thrift-store shopping, no indifference, and no charity Christmas gifts…Charlotte just took Meg under her wing and kept her there for herself.
I wasn’t jealous, I was glad. I had Dorian, so I didn’t need Charlotte. Perhaps, if I had bonded with Charlotte, I would have never taken to Dorian like I did, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. All in all, our home life did improve with Agatha’s departure and Meg’s arrival. Charlotte’s house felt more like a home, meals were now shared, and conversations sprung naturally. Meg was giggly and frivolous, and by springtime, she was a mini-Charlotte, down to the fake nails and hair. Joe was thrilled about this, and was as indulgent as ever. Even I joined in and gifted Meg one of my latest creations—a rag doll with crocheted clothes.
The idea of making rag dolls came to me during a crochet meeting. One of the ladies showed me a doll she’d had since childhood. It was a homemade version of Raggedy Ann. It was so lovely, that I spent the weekend making one out of scraps. Then I crocheted the clothes and the end product was adorable. I made several of them after that, and with the help of the crochet ladies; I soon had a whole collection. After I let Meg choose one, I donated the rest to the local Foster care office so they could be given to kids who, like me, entered the system young and empty-handed. This was a great success, and the state workers were soon requesting more. Now the crochet club had a mission and a purpose that we all took to heart.
I did join my friends a few times for movies and parties, but truth be told; I didn’t have that much fun. Wes and Brandy were still my best friends at school and we had lunch together every day, but I always felt out of place and detached from normal teenage life. They sympathized with me, but they couldn’t understand the extent of my feelings. They didn’t have vivid dreams that blurred reality, they didn’t hear voices from the dead and they didn’t have a death threat looming over their heads—but I did.
School also reminded me of Alex. I saw his sister often, but we never said much to each other besides a warm ‘Hello’ or a smile. Her presence inevitably reminded me of Alex, and I would feel a pang in my chest and a knot in my stomach that left me slightly queasy.
Only one time, toward the end of the school year, did she and I talk. I was parking my scooter when I saw Amanda and the rest of Agatha’s now stranded coven standing by Katie, who looked like she was crying. They were all looking at something on the ground in front of them, but I couldn’t tell what it was, so I ran to Katie’s side to see what was the matter.
They were looking at a cat that was going berserk, jumping up and down and twisting around like it was possessed. I would have thought it somewhat funny looking, had I not been threatened with that hanging cat. Katie certainly didn’t think it was funny and she was desperately trying to snatch the crazy cat from its torturers, but every time she tried to pick it up Amanda would stop her and push her out of the way.
“What’s wrong with that cat?” I asked.
“Catnip,” Amanda boasted, then laughed rather diabolically.
“She’s not having fun, it’s torturous for her!” Katie pleaded. “Please, let me wash her now.”
“Did the cat tell you that, Miss. Doolittle?” one of the other freaks sneered.
“Leave her alone!” I said, stepping forward.
“Or what?” A rather greasy looking boy with yellow teeth taunted.
I didn’t respond to him directly, instead I leered at Amanda with the most vicious scowl I could muster. Then it occurred to me, Amanda knew about me. I was sure that Agatha had confided in her about my so-called gift. Trusting my gut on this, I stepped forward ignoring the crazy cat. “She knows,” I said unflinchingly and nodded my head toward Amanda.
I was right. Amanda knew about my ‘supernatural’ abilities so she started backing away, not wanting to experience what Agatha had given her a preview of. There were few things a big bully like Amanda feared, and Agatha had figured that out—devilish voices from other realms of existence—was one of them.
“Come on, let’s go,” Amanda called out. The stragglers exchanged a few puzzled looks, then obeyed.
As soon as they were a few steps away, Katie reached down and picked up the writhing cat. “Thanks,” she sighed. “I’ll have to take her to the bathroom and wash her off.”
“Will it be OK?”
&n
bsp; “Yeah, I just need to rinse the catnip off. Then she’ll be fine.” She wiped a tear away and gave me a quick hug with her spare arm. “Why was she so afraid of you?”
“I grew up with Agatha, remember? Amanda knows I can hold my own,” I said, hoping that she would leave it at that. Luckily she did.
Chapter 13
I woke up on Graduation day to a hot spring morning, dreading the layers of clothing with the added cap and gown. My bags were packed, and Dorian looked glum, but he knew this day was coming. I had been preparing him for my departure from Charlotte’s for a long time. He had enough composure not to freak out like he had on other occasions; he knew I would come back for him in one year. But it was still sad and hard—harder than I thought. I hadn’t planned on feeling this way. For years all I could think about was getting out of this hole and taking Dorian with me. But I had not anticipated on ‘this hole’ becoming my home; and I hadn’t fully realized that Dorian would have to stay behind for a whole year.
Since I was to be officially homeless as of today, I had a job lined up as a summer camp counselor and lifeguard. They offered room and board; stuffy wooden cabins to be shared with five other counselors, and camp food—whatever that was. Either way, it was a roof over my head until I could move into my dorm room.
I had been accepted to five different schools in Texas and most of them offered me a full ride scholarship. I had my crochet group to thank for that. They each wrote recommendation letters and pulled the many strings they had around the state. Their high remarks, along with my good grades and my impressive, though not perfect, swimming background, got me the scholarships. It also helped that I was chosen as Valedictorian; this title though, seemed somewhat fishy to me. Not that I didn’t have the grades to back it up, but it just so happened that one of my crochet grandmas, was my Principal’s mother—something I didn’t know until I got the good news.
Regardless, here I was, about to leave my home and Dorian, to fulfill a goal that was three years in the making. Then I was to start phase two of my goal. It wasn’t hard to pick a school, I only wanted to get into one of them—the one where Alex was. My stomach filled with butterflies at the thought of seeing him again. I imagined all kinds of different ways in which I would run into him, or happen to share a class with him, or simply look him up—this was what made me nervous and my hands feel sweaty—not the speech I was about to give.
I had spent a long time on this speech, mostly because I didn’t know what to say. I had finally achieved my ultimate goal, and that’s all I ever really cared about. I had no nostalgic view of high school; sure I had a few friends that I would miss, but not enough to be reduced to tears, like some were. All I wanted to do was to get my diploma and leave so I could go jump into some large body of water to cool off—gown and all.
The commencement ceremony was to take place outdoors, in the football stadium. At ten o’clock the heat had already reached an intolerable degree. From the platform where I sat I could see my classmates. Most were excitedly talking and hugging each other, while their parents filed in, taking pictures and decorating their graduates with huge ribbons, leis and other ornaments. I would have no pictures of this event, no leis, no ribbons…not that I wanted them. I had invited my foster family of course, but Charlotte hadn’t thought to bring a camera and Joe looked crabby from the heat. Dorian sat indifferent, drawing, while Meg looked around her, in complete giddiness at the sight of all the high school boys.
Once the ceremony started, I thought I would melt right on the spot. Several people spoke before me, and all the while an odd feeling of bitterness crept inside of me. It could have been the relentless heat, but I couldn’t suppress the bitterness. I had no room to be bitter; all in all, life had been good to me. I had gotten what I wanted, a college acceptance and a scholarship. But I didn’t want to be here. Being here only seemed to remind me of all the things I didn’t have and never would have—a real family.
My name was announced, and I swallowed the bad taste in my mouth. I got up and looked around at the people before me and mustered a fake smile. All eyes were on me, but no one cared, I could tell that every one’s mind was on something else. Dorian cared, but he wasn’t looking, he was drawing. Joe was loosening a button on his shirt collar; Charlotte was fussing with Meg’s hair and Meg had her gaze fixed on a boy that was sitting nearby.
I took in a deep breath and started my carefully crafted speech. I was told to speak for ten minutes, but I could tell that I would lose everyone after three. No one wanted to be here any longer than was absolutely necessary. I began to recite my memorized words; they were eloquent and witty, inspirational and wise, but the more I spoke the more I hated being here and the more resentment I felt. Who were these people that pretended to look at me? No one was listening. No one cared.
The anger beneath the surface was hard to hide; I struggled to sound happy and exited, but I knew I was failing. Suddenly, as I looked over the audience, a bright light started to shine in my face. It was really bright, like the glare from the sun reflecting from a mirror. I shielded my eyes for a second, and then tried to blink away the brightness, but it was useless. I continued my speech in spite of that light, and a new feeling crept over me, a need… to be near that light.
Some sort of rebellion welled up inside of me, and I felt the intense urge to take off running toward that light. So with one last planned joke, I ended my five-minute speech. I could see the relief that registered in every face, once they realized that I was done and now the actual graduation would start. I turned from the podium and walked off toward my spot among my peers, on the grass. But right as I was nearing my spot, I saw that light again and instead of taking my seat; I kept on walking toward it. I didn’t know what it was, but it beckoned me so I went. No one noticed me, no one cared that the valedictorian didn’t take her seat as expected; every eye was now on the principal who, to the sound of the band in the background, was about to start calling names.
As I walked, I tossed my cap and shed my gown. I didn’t know what I was doing exactly, but I was so hot and the only thing that sounded good at that moment was water, not just to drink, but also to dive into. Then there was that light; it was coming from the very back, behind all the parents. The closer I got, the better I could see it. There was someone inside the light; it had the shape of a man. My heart skipped a beat and my limbs tingled and wobbled as I made my way to it.
“You did it,” he said with a crooked smile.
I nodded dumbly.
“So what now?”
I shrugged, “I was thinking of jumping into the lake,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper and my heart pounding so fast that I found it hard to breathe.
“That sounds like a great idea! Do you mind if I join you?”
My breath caught in my throat and I felt both hot and cold at the same time. I wasn’t sure what to say. I was mad at him, furious really, but I couldn’t surface the anger that I had felt this whole year. All I wanted to do was fall into his arms and stay there forever.
“You’re not going to walk?” He motioned toward my cap and gown on the ground.
“No”
“Are you going to the party later?”
“No”
“Do you want to come with me?” His smile was cocky, and that made me angry.
“You’re a jerk, you know that.” His smile vanished and he didn’t respond. “You could have called me or something,” I said, then I remembered his Christmas gift. That should count for “something”. “Thanks for the book,” I added, more remorseful now.
“You knew it was from me?” He smiled, pleased.
“Yeah…who else?”
“I’m sorry for the silent treatment. I had my reasons.”
I snorted. What kind of superior comment was that?
“I’ll tell you what they were, but not here.” He stretched out his arm and wrapped it around my shoulders. I let myself be led like this to the deserted parking lot. He had already placed my scooter i
nto the back of his jeep—how presumptuous! I told him this much and he turned me around to face him. He looked serious, and his eyes showed desperation, like time was running out.
“I know you’re mad Tess, you have every right to be. But it wouldn’t have worked if I had warned you.”
“Warned me of what? Desertion?”
“Yes—no,” he shook his head in frustration. “I never deserted you, Tess. I stayed away so you could do this.” He waved is hand toward the stadium where my class was receiving their diplomas. I looked back at him with a blank stare. “I didn’t want to get in your way, I didn’t want to be a distraction and ruin your plans,” he continued.
“How would you have been a distraction? How could you ruin my plans? Do you know what it was like for me this last year? Do you realize how much…” I couldn’t finish. To say anything else would be to reveal too much. We only shared one short kiss, but I loved him, I loved him to the point of tears; tears that presently made their appearance.
Alex stepped in closer and cupped my face in his hands. “Shh, shh,” he soothed. “I’m sorry Tess; it was hard for me too.”
“Ha!” I laughed bitterly and shook my face from his hands. He didn’t know what hard was; he had a loving family, and a home. I had a death threat and a hot cabin to look forward to.
“It was hard, Tess, but do you really think I’m that heartless? I did this for us, for our future.” His eyes were intent on mine as his hands slid from my face to my shoulders.
I frowned in confusion at his comment and tried really hard to not let my knees buckle.
“Don’t you see? If we had picked up right where we left off at that dance, you wouldn’t have accomplished all of this.”
“And why not?” I asked, with my wounded pride resurfacing my anger. “You don’t think I could have handled a boyfriend and good grades?”