“Bye, Millie,” Pete said.
She didn’t respond.
“Aunt Millie!” I waved. She couldn’t hear me. It was as if she was in a trance. What was she staring at? I followed her gaze towards the small wooded area ahead.
“I’ll be back,” Aunt Millie said. Did she see me standing there? Maybe she thought Pete was still on the porch? Was that just force of habit for her to talk aloud to the trees? Lately Aunt Millie was even more absent minded than normal. Did she suffer dementia? Somehow I doubted it since Alex “fixed” her back at the hospital when she was terminal several years ago. Did his “fix” have strange side effects that no one knew about? Alex didn’t know what caused me to be the way I was so maybe Aunt Millie was a mystery to him, too.
I stayed crouched low in the garden below Aunt Millie’s porch. She took the steps with heavy feet allowing her tight wrapped bun to loosen and fall along her back. She really needed to learn how to use dye better. It was a horrific red—worse than ever before. My aunt turned sideways. I ducked, closing my eyes. Didn’t the military teach you to never look directly at your target? Somehow your opponent will know he/she’s being watched. Did Aunt Millie feel as if someone was watching her?
“Rat,” Aunt Millie called. “Is that you, Rat?”
She did think someone was out there. At least it was Rat whom she suspected. I kept my eyes to the ground listening as her feet crunched leaves. My ears followed the sound through the tall grasses. Aunt Millie walked through so often that there was a well outlined trail winding through what years ago used to be a wheat field. Unfortunately, the only thing that grew here now were weeds—tall, itchy weeds.
Her feet grew still. “Rat? Are you there? Stay home. I’ll feed you when I get back.” Aunt Millie sighed, stomping forward through soggy ground. I cringed as my heels sunk into the earth. This was not what I’d expected at all. Where was she going? Is this the trip she took each night before the sun set? Why?
Aunt Millie stood in front of a group of trees. They lined the perimeter of our property and that of our neighbors’. In the fence someone cut a hole. Was she going to crawl through it? Really?! What was I going to do with my dress? There was no way I’d make it out of that mess without tearing it. The dance was ruined for sure.
My overweight, stocky aunt grunted, squeezing her mammoth arms and hips through the opening. (Now I understood why she put her hair down. If she hadn’t it would’ve gotten snagged in the broken chain links.)
This was a nightmare. I gathered the ends of my dress and held on tight while ducking through. When I stood my body jerked backwards. The back of my dress tore straight off. Great; I turned trying desperately to see the damage. My pink underwear was an eyesore against the crème colored fabric that hung on the torn fence. Just great. There was no way I was going to the dance now. I glanced up to see Aunt Millie disappearing behind the neighbor’s house. It appeared empty and boarded for the season. When was the last time I’d ever seen someone living there? In the three years I’d been trapped in Lynn—never. Whose home was it? The wooden paneling needed a fresh coat of paint and some handyman services were definitely in order. What if it was for sale? Would we be able to buy it? Then Aunt Millie could walk through this yard anytime she wanted without worrying about the homeowners showing up. Maybe they knew Aunt Millie and allowed her to pass. No; who would be okay with a hole in their fencing? Any normal person would accuse Aunt Millie of trespassing and vandalizing private property. Why would she be so irresponsible? What would make her so thoughtless?
My aunt cut through the back fence, kicking the old boards with her foot. An obnoxious squeak sounded. Was she really going into their backyard, too? The door swung open nearly falling from its hinges. She let the door slam behind her.
I ran up to the gate. How was I supposed to follow her? She’d hear me for sure. I grabbed the rusted handle and pulled upwards with all my might. The door lifted and I inched forward. The gate squeaked loudly. Had Aunt Millie heard?
She wasn’t anywhere in sight!
I squirmed around the gate and ran through the backyard. An abandoned swing set and green slime filled baby pool stood between me and a large hole in the wooden fence. Where the heck was she going? I turned around. The patio doors were boarded shut with plywood and a snake slithered underneath the baby splash pool. I needed to get out of here. Snakes sent shivers down my spine.
I tiptoed through the yard watching for them. Spider webs hung in the corners of the broken fence. Was I supposed to go through that? I didn’t see any giant spiders…
I sucked in, gulping in air and ran through the opening. I fell flat on my face in what looked to be mud. Only, it smelled like—feces. This wasn’t happening. All I wanted to know was where Aunt Millie went each night then head straight for the dance. Wasn’t that reasonable? Hello!!! My dress stunk and I flicked pieces of horse manure from off my sleeve. Did it matter? My butt showed, I stunk like a toilet and my hair—my hair! I grabbed for the top of my head.
I needed to focus.
My eyes surveyed the surrounding area. I was standing in a horse field. Several mares flicked their tails, barely interested in my intrusion. Were they so used to Aunt Millie coming though the fence that I was not even a threat to them? Horses were normally skittish and would whinny.
Up a head Aunt Millie climbed another fence. This one was low and barricaded outsiders from a park. I kicked my heels off watching them roll through a mound of manure; gross. My feet slipped as I ran across the field. Warm dung squeezed through my toes making me want to hurl. I needed to focus on Aunt Millie. Once she was in the park there was no telling if I’d be able to keep up. Would she smell me?
There had to be a hose somewhere. I could wash the crap off and she’d be none the wiser. My eyes darted back and forth. Along the edge of some barbed wire hung a green hose; I unraveled the dirty thing and twisted the nozzle. A sound came up from the pipes. Black liquid seeped out, darkening my dress. I jumped back. “This is a nightmare,” I whispered.
Had Aunt Millie heard me? No. She was too far ahead. I needed to pick up the pace. She was just a speck in the distance. I pulled my dress off over my head and hung it on the hose shelf and twisted the spout tight. The dirty flow stopped and I ran the rest of the way to the short fence.
This was it. I stood in my see-through tank and pink undies. What would the people in the park say when they saw me streak past them?
I really wanted to know what Aunt Millie did each night. “Aunt Millie!”
So what if someone saw me, right? I was technically covered up. Wouldn’t they want to know where Millie went if she were their aunt? Besides, what was worse, a dress with the rear exposed or me “as is”? I still smelled like crap even without the dress.
I climbed over the fence and followed a well-worn path through the grass. Aunt Millie came this way so much it had killed the grass. Up ahead my aunt sat on a park bench. Her hands were folded in her lap and she stared intently at something. What was it?
I inched forward, not wanting to disturb her. Tears streamed down Aunt Millie’s face. Her normally hardened exterior seemed broken somehow. What could possibly make her so sad? She had the best of both worlds. Her house was free of charge, could live the rest of her life disease and ailment free, at least to my knowledge, and she was rich. What in the world could she be sad about? She should be grateful to Alex for saving her life, not depressed all the time and distant from those who wanted to be her friends and family. What was Aunt Millie’s problem? She didn’t even get excited when Jimmy (my stepfather—her brother) came for a visit. She smiled and went to her room. I’ll be back in a while, she always said.
“Aunt Millie,” I whispered, touching her shoulder. It was as if she’d known I’d followed.
“Give me a minute, Lisa.” Her voice cracked. I sat next to her and took her hand. She squeezed tight. “I just need a—”
“It’s okay Aunt Millie, if you want to cry you should.” I wrapped my other hand around her
s. What was my problem? Who did I think I was passing judgment on Aunt Millie? Something upset her—obviously. No one had it all together; not even Millie.
I waited patiently while she sobbed on my shoulder. Maybe I should’ve stayed on the porch. This was wrong—invading my aunt’s privacy. Who did I think I was? “I’m sorry I followed you. It wasn’t right of me to do.”
“It’s okay.” Aunt Millie blew her nose on a tissue. She had a box of Kleenex sitting between us. “I should’ve just told you—you’re my niece and deserve to know.” She finally noticed my attire. “Lisa, are you in your underwear?”
I dismissed her question, “What is it, Aunt Millie? What do I deserve to know?”
She motioned for me to look through the trees in front of us. Her fingers twitched and she couldn’t avert her gaze.
I squinted, unable to see what she saw. All I saw was a playground with kids. Had Aunt Millie wanted children? Why didn’t she get married and have one? Was she too old? Up ahead, a young boy—maybe ten years old with Downs syndrome ran through the mulch. A tall woman chased him. “Be careful, Milford,” she said. He giggled racing away. “Milford!” She yelled steadying him as he climbed up the slide. “You’re supposed to slide down not crawl up,” she told him.
Aunt Millie chuckled blowing her nose in her tissue. “Look how beautiful he is.” She cried. “She’s such a good mom to him.”
Was Aunt Millie talking about the boy? Why did she cry while watching him play? Who was he? Was Milford—
“Who is that boy?” I asked.
“I’d always wanted a child,” Aunt Millie said. “I never got married, you know. All my life, people said if I was patient the right man would come along and make me happy—we’d start a family and—”
“A lot of people never get married, Aunt Millie.”
“Lisa, I understand that and accepted the fact that I’ll never be someone’s wife but to not have a child—I couldn’t bear the thought.”
“You could adopt. I’d be totally supportive.”
“Yes, I believe you would.” My aunt smiled. Tears poured down her face. “I thank you for that—even if I’m not the most ideal aunt.”
“Why are you so upset, Aunt Millie?” She was right about that—not great aunt material…
“When I was showing signs of menopause I grew worried that I’d never have a child. So I went and had artificial insemination.”
Was Milford her son?
“During the pregnancy is when I found out I had cancer.” Aunt Millie burst into tears again. I rubbed her back. (Why did that lady have her child?) “The doctors told me if I started treatment I’d most likely lose the fetus but if I didn’t start treatment right away then by the end of my pregnancy term I’d be terminal and there’d be nothing I could do to save myself.”
Had Millie given her life up for the child she’d always wanted?
“I knew I’d die but the baby was all I’d ever wanted. How could I do something that would kill him? Look at that precious angel!” She wiped tears on her arms. “Milford is so beautiful and loving and caring and kind. He’s the best thing I’ve ever done—my greatest accomplishment.”
I sniffed rubbing my eyes. “Why’d you give him away?”
“I thought I was going to die. Lanie’s my neighbor and closest friend. We were college dorm mates. She promised to raise my boy as her own. Then—”
I couldn’t swallow. An awful feeling invaded my heart. “Alex fixed you.”
“Yes!” Aunt Millie covered her face. “It’s not that I’m ungrateful. I just really wanted to have a baby that I raised myself. Alex was sweet enough to let me take care of C I N. I was friends with the warehouse kids when I was a teenager. When Alex saw me in the hospital and knew I was terminal, he remembered Jimmy and thought he would save me from my illness. Sometimes I wish he never recognized me.”
“Don’t say that!” I grabbed her face. “Don’t dare say that!”
“You don’t know what it’s like to watch someone you love from a distance and never have them.” She let out a cry.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Millie.” Aunt Millie could have her son if she wanted, right? He was right there for the taking. “Just ask for Milford back. Your friend would understand.”
“I’d never do that! That’s his home now. This meeting in the park is so I can watch him each day. It was Lanie’s idea—that way I could watch him from a distance.”
“Why does he have Down syndrome?”
“I’m not sure. Hopefully it wasn’t because I was sick with cancer. But look at him Lisa, he’s beautiful.”
He was. Tears welled in my eyes again. There was something special about Milford. His eyes were bright and happy, his demeanor was welcoming. A little girl cried in the sand. He leaned over and handed her a flower. “Why are you so sad?” He asked. Aunt Millie was right. He was her greatest accomplishment. Why couldn’t she have him?
Anna said not to link with anyone but Alex told me I needed to find a link. Why not Milford? He’d be fixed and no longer suffer disabilities. I stood raising my arms high in the air. I could fix him. Who cares about what Anna says? I’d make Aunt Millie happy. She’d spend the rest of her days with the perfect son she’d always imagined.
Sparks itched at my fingertips. This was it. I was going to link with Milford.
“Stop!” Aunt Millie tackled me to the ground. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to fix him for you. He’ll be cured and you can keep him.”
“NO!” Aunt Millie screamed. “He doesn’t need to be fixed. He’s perfect, absolutely perfect the way he is! Don’t touch him!”
Why didn’t Aunt Millie want her son fixed? He’d have a better life and wouldn’t have to struggle to keep up with others; he’d be free of his disabilities. What was the big deal if I linked with him? Milford would love to be like Alex, Ally, and me. He’d have the time of his life and I could teach him how to use his new powers so that way he wouldn’t be like me, like me… No one was similar to me—except Anna. She’d love it if I linked with Milford. She’d win. I’d lose.
At least we’d both get to live.
Aunt Millie was right. I watched Milford lay in the grass and cloud watch. He giggled, calling for his mom. My aunt’s arm stretched forward. She held her heart and let the tears fall. I let mine fall, too. She was right; Milford was perfect just the way he was. I was the one with the problem. I’d have to suffer with my burdens alone—not bringing anyone else in meant suffering with the frightening vibrations that surged through me. How could I have tried to convince myself that striking Milford was for his benefit? I laughed out loud.
“C’mon, Aunt Millie,” I said. “Let’s watch the clouds with Milford.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Would Lanie care if you spoke to him?”
“I don’t think so. But I’d feel worse.”
“If you could speak and be his friend maybe you wouldn’t cry so much. C’mon.” I tugged her arm. “Get up off that bench and cloud watch with us.”
I dragged her through the trees and forced her to stand above her son. Lanie covered her mouth and took a seat on a picnic bench.
I leaned down and smiled at my nephew. “Hi, Milford.”
“Hi!” He said. “Sit.” His finger pointed at the sky. “Look at that.”
I lay flat on my back. “What is it?”
“A—A elephant. You see it?”
“I see the trunk!” I laughed. Milford clapped his hands and squealed.
“I knew it!” He shouted. “A—A elephant!”
“Look, Aunt Millie, it’s an elephant in the sky.” I slapped her on the ankle. “Look at the sky.”
Her gaze never left Milford’s face. “Yes, it’s an elephant. But do you know why?”
“Why?” His eyes set on Aunt Millie. Her body trembled and my aunt dropped to her knees. “Why, Aunt Millie?” He asked. She stifled a laugh and held back her tears.
He’d called her Aunt Millie. My aunt wiped h
er eyes inching her way closer to her son. She gently touched his face.
“Because elephants never forget,” she told him. “And you, Milford are unforgettable.”
THE LATE ARRIVAL…
The sky darkened. It was getting late. What time was it? I glanced at my watch. It was after seven. The prom! I looked down at my clothes or at least what was left of them. “I gotta go. It was nice to meet you, Milford.”
“Bye, Lisa!” He giggled, showing Aunt Millie the changing clouds.
I took off, following the road this time instead of Aunt Millie’s insane “short” cut. The gravel dug into my feet. Tobey. What would he think? I was an hour late. What if he lost it and went all serial killer on everyone at C I N?
I could see it vividly. Blood splattered on the walls and bodies piled up with Tobey sitting crossed legged on top, meditating, waiting for me. Why did such things fester in my mind? Was the longevity creating dark thoughts in me already or was it because I secretly felt Tobey was dangerous?
I ran down the road, sneaking through our next door neighbor’s backyard. I saw my ripped dress, and grabbed it off the barbed wire. I took off around the lake, coming to an abrupt stop.
Tobey sat on the steps. He wore a tux, held a red rose and his hair fell around his face.
I clasped the shredded fabric in front of my underwear. “Tobey?” I said.
He looked up, eyes misted. “What happened to you?”
“I had a few mishaps on the way to the prom.” I tried to grin. My lips trembled instead.
“Look at you.” He sighed, covering me with his jacket. “Let’s get you inside.”
“I’m sorry for being late.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”
Maybe my imagination was off. How could someone so understanding, be a psychotic serial killer? It wasn’t possible. “I ruined my dress.”
“Yes, I agree,” he said. “Do you have something else you can wear?”
“It’s not as nice.”
“You always look beautiful.”
The C I N Series Bundled Page 33