Hideaway

by Nicole Lundrigan

  “Tell her I will. I won’t take it off.”

  Carl lowered his head. “She can hear you just fine, Magic Boy.”

  I nodded slowly. The foil crinkled around my ears.

  “I’m going to miss you. Urh. But Stan doesn’t trust you. He, he says you’re a Worker who lost your pair. He doesn’t care about the laws. Urh. Won’t follow them. It’s tangential and arbitrary. He wants to kill you, Magic Boy, but I can’t do it that way. No, not that way. Just the same as I did with my mother.” He touched his temple. “You need to go now. Before Stan comes back. If he comes back, I can’t make him leave.”

  He hugged me. I was scared and dizzy and sick to my stomach, but I hugged him back. My face pressed into his coat and beard. He smelled like mildew and cloves. I felt his body hiccuping. Tears crept up to the edge of my lids. Even though he’d hit me in the head, I knew there was something good and kind and honest that shone inside him.

  “Bye, Carl.”

  * * *

  —

  Most of the eeriness had left the dark woods. I was tired and strangely numb, but I wasn’t afraid. One foot kept drifting in front of the other. After a long time the creek started to narrow, its banks less crowded with brush and tall grass.

  Then came the curve in the water. I was getting closer to the bridge, to my and Carl’s old camp. I turned the flashlight off, making steady steps on the sand and pebbles. I had to hurry. Inside my head I could feel a weird pressure growing. Were the pills wearing off already? If the pain came back full force, there was no way I’d make it.

  A branch snapped behind me. I flinched when the noise echoed inside my skull. Then I heard a splash as though a flat stone had fallen into the creek. Animals, I told myself. A baby bird falling out of its nest. I refused to be scared.

  A dense shadow just ahead, the bridge right in front of me. I stopped. I couldn’t see anything at all, but I knew something else was there. I could hear scratching. Like long filthy nails cleaning the inside of a can. That asshole was back, maybe. With the girl I saw on TV. I touched my neck. The cut had dried into a hard scab. I tried to silence my breathing, to push away the growing pounding in my head. My finger was on the flashlight switch, but I didn’t slide it up. With my other hand I felt along the ground, plucked up a rock and threw it. Crouched low in case they turned a light in my direction.

  An animal lumbered past me. A skunk. Or a possum. Rustling as it moved underneath the brush, pushed through the leaves. When I stood up the ground shifted, but I caught myself. I stepped forward and clicked on my light. The camp was empty except for junk strewn around, glass bottles, most of them broken. A wet mound of blankets, Telly’s shirts. Girl’s squirrel was sliced up the middle, stuffing falling out. The circle of rocks that outlined Carl’s firepit were kicked all over. The whole place smelled like a filthy toilet.

  I sat down on a stone. One of Carl’s fine chairs. The distant pounding was inching nearer. Whomp. Whomp. Slowly building. Getting louder and louder. I was so tired and empty and cold. I wished I had more pills to hold back the pain. I slid my hand inside my tinfoil hat. Touched the sticky swollen side of my head.

  It was going to be okay. When I reached home, Gloria would give me some medicine. I kept remembering how she was crying on the television. No matter how angry she was the night I left, she would be relieved to see me. And I would be relieved to see her. She was frustrated and made a mistake, and I was an ungrateful kid who ran away. But I was still her kid. That counted for something.

  But what about Carl? What if I should have stayed with him? Found Mr. Russell, just two down, and asked for help. For a moment, I stopped. I wondered if I should turn back. Go to him before my head got unbearable. But Carl had told me to leave, hadn’t he? He told me he didn’t trust Stan. He didn’t trust himself. And everyone inside of him was fighting about me. If I went back I’d only make that worse. Besides, home was so close. I would sleep until morning. I would go see Mrs. Spooner as soon as I could. Gloria wouldn’t understand about Carl. Mrs. Spooner would.

  My stomach twisted. I put my forehead to my knees, the foil crinkled, and I tried to breathe. The pressure. How could it be getting worse and worse by the second? When I closed my eyes, weird bursts of light arrived from nowhere. I thought I heard stones crunching behind me, someone walking around, but I couldn’t lift my head to check. Blackness washed over me.

  I rubbed my eyes. I’d fallen asleep. Or passed out. For a minute? For an hour? It was still dark, but everything looked a lighter color of gray. I slowly got to my feet. My legs wobbled, my mouth was dry, and each throb in my head made my muscles seize.

  I flicked on the flashlight. Shone it up on the cement, and the glow lit up Almost, painted on the wall.

  I have to keep moving. I’m almost home.

  I pushed through the bushes. There was no path. I stepped. It was harder to lift my legs, and each time I stumbled I grabbed at the trees. My feet seemed so far away. Was this the right direction?

  The pain was suddenly overwhelming. Flashes burst inside my eyes. The side of my head was firing shots through my jaw and eyes and down the bones of my neck. My teeth chattered. My rib cage shook.

  Another branch cracked. I was not alone. Maybe it was a bear. Or a wolf. Maybe they weren’t all gone. Or even a man hunting around for me. Didn’t they say exactly where I went missing on the news? What if there was a reward?

  I spun the light around, through the wet, shiny trees. I tried to yell “Who’s there?” but the words went somewhere else. I grabbed my head. Pain gnawed through me. One strike after the other. So sharp and violent.

  Which way was I facing? My feet dragged over the wet ground. Step after step after step. And then the trees vanished. I was in a yard. My yard? How did I get here? I dropped the flashlight. A thin beam across the grass. I squinted. Another light coming from the house. Behind the sliding doors.

  I started crawling across the backyard. I could no longer walk. Something solid was expanding inside my skull. Trying to find its way out. Every bone and joint tingled. Spit pooled under my tongue.

  Gloria was in the kitchen. Was that her? A big fluffy bathrobe. It had to be. The pulsing pain hammered out a message inside my head. Your mother. Loves you. She really. Loves you.

  I edged forward. My brain was splitting open.

  Can you see me?

  Mom?

  Gray washed over me. Inside the haze, I heard something. A cough carried across the vacant yard. Or a gasp. Maybe it was an “urh.”

  I tried to focus. I saw, I saw, I saw a shadow cutting in front of the glow. Moving past the flashlight? The porch light? A flurry of movement, a sloping outline. Rushing across the grass toward me.

  ROWAN

  Dark world tilting, falling down. Yard zigzagging under my feet. Grass in my mouth. Lifting, tugging, stumbling. Thick fingers digging into my armpits. Pulling me up, dragging me, lifting me. Seconds. Minutes. Hours? I am moving away.

  Where are you taking me?

  Stop.

  I want to be home.

  Stop it. Please stop it.

  My head hurts. Hurts bad.

  Grunting then, and I’m down on the hard ground. Something cold against my cheek. I curl into a ball, but the stomping, smashing will not leave my skull. I clap my hand on the wall. Damp cement. Am I back under the bridge?

  Everything is spinning.

  Spinning.

  Stop.

  It won’t slow down.

  MAISY

  In the middle of the night I woke up. Rain was tapping my window and coming in on my pillow. I got up and closed the window and then I heard Gloria downstairs. She was screaming like crazy. No one was screaming back. I knew she was on the phone to Telly.

  “You can’t just come and go whenever you want—”

  …

  “—being selfish.”

  …

  “Not until we’re all back together, you’re not.”

  …

  “You think there’s no conseque
nces?”

  Then she stopped and next was an angry slam. Maybe she broke the phone. I hugged my chest but my heart wouldn’t slow down.

  I waited and waited and maybe I went back to sleep because I didn’t hear nothing else. When I opened my eyes again birds were cheeping and orange light was going across my ceiling. I got out of bed and snuck down the hallway. I passed Rowan’s room, but his bed was still empty. I tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen. Chicken was far back under the table. He was whimpering out a dream, but there was no sign of Gloria. The phone looked okay, but the phone book was on the floor.

  I pulled open the sliding doors and went outside. Wind lifted up my hair. The sun was at the top of the trees and the backyard was wet and sparkly. Something extra sparkly was on the grass, but when I went over, it was just tinfoil. A big triangle, enough to cover two roast chickens. We had that once when Telly got his new job at the garage. Rowan wanted all four drumsticks, and when Telly said it was okay, Rowan ripped them off and sucked the bones clean. He could have them again if he came home. I just knew Gloria wouldn’t be mad, and she’d say yes.

  I wondered if a neighbor brought chickens for us to eat. Maybe. I had to run to catch the tinfoil because wind was getting inside it and pushing it away. I grabbed it up and went back to the kitchen. There was a rabbit casserole from Shar’s aunt in the fridge, and a container full of something orangey brown with Mrs. Murtry’s name written on a piece of tape. A chicken, too. Just one though. All roasted up brown. But it looked weird and kind of sad because the drumsticks were already gone.

  * * *

  —

  When I woke up again I was under the table with Chicken. I could see lines on Gloria’s legs. They were blue and red branches. Her feet were inside pink slippers with a pompom on the top.

  Gloria smacked her hand on the table just above my head. It was loud and I jumped. She bent down and frowned at me. “Get out right now! How long have you been under there?”

  “Just a little bit,” I said.

  “And what’s that?” She reached down and grabbed the tinfoil. “Where did this come from?”

  “The backyard.”

  “With all we’ve got going on, people just let their trash go?” She crumpled it into a ball and threw it in the sink. “First thing Telly’s going to do when he gets back is put up a fence. I don’t care if nobody got one. I won’t have garbage blowing all over.”

  I nodded.

  “Now, you need to get out from under there and call him.”

  I got out quick. When I stood up, my head and arms filled with fuzz. I held onto the edge of a chair. “Telly?” I said.

  “Of course, Telly. You know, that man who was supposed to stay here last night? And decided he was just too tired to be with his family?”

  I swallowed fast. Gloria told me the numbers and I turned the dial careful. It rang and rang and then a lady answered. I looked at Gloria.

  “Ask for Telly,” she said. Her face was angry.

  “Um. Is Telly there?”

  “You’re not calling the queen,” Gloria said loud. She picked up a spoon and waved it at me. There was jam on the end of it. “Just tell her to put him on.”

  “She says he’s not home, Gloria.”

  “Home? Thinks that’s his home, now, does she? Well you tell her to tell him, he got to be at the police station for ten sharp.”

  “Um. Gloria says Telly got to go to the police for ten sharp.”

  “And that he’ll be bringing us back here. To our home. His real home.”

  “And he’ll, um, he’ll—”

  “Be driving us back, I said.”

  “Be bringing us back.”

  “And that we don’t need to be taking the bus both ways.”

  “And that we don’t—” I stopped talking and chewed at my lip.

  “What?”

  “She says she can hear you already.”

  Gloria’s mouth squished up like lemon was inside. “Can she now.”

  “Yes, she can, she says.”

  “Well you tell that witch Telly finally got his priorities straight. He’s moving back here. Just as much said so.” She flicked the spoon. The jam flew off and splotched on the wall. “And if she hadn’t of broken up this perfectly fine home, none of this would’ve happened. Rowan’d be good and safe.”

  I held out the phone. “She already hunged up, Gloria.”

  “What?”

  Sparks zipped around behind my eyes. “Do I call back?”

  “No, you do not call back.” She threw down the spoon. It made a loud crack. “What were you doing, sleeping under the table like that?”

  “I, um, don’t know.”

  “Well I won’t have it. I don’t need a little insomniac. You wandering around all hours. When you go to bed, you stay in your bed.”

  She pulled the lid off a container of cookies and pushed it across the counter. “Eat,” she said. “And get out of that nightgown. Throw it in the trash while you’re at it. I can see everything you got right through it.”

  My face got hot. I looked hard at the cookies. There were flat cookies and squares with cherries and something jiggly and pink. I picked a sticky coconut thing and took a little bite. “Are we going to the police house?”

  “They called and said for me to come in.”

  I dropped the cookie. “They found him. They found Rowan?”

  “How do I know?” She looked even more angry. “They would’ve told me if they did, wouldn’t they? What a mess this all is.”

  I chewed and chewed the coconut.

  “We got to take a bus. Don’t know why they think every single person’s got a car ready at the drop of a hat.”

  “Am I going?”

  “Of course you are. Better for you to learn when you’re young how horrible life can be.”

  * * *

  —

  Our neighbor Mrs. Murtry saw us waiting at the bus stop. She stopped and me and Gloria got in. Gloria told her we got to go see the police.

  “Why didn’t you call?” Mrs. Murtry said.

  “I didn’t want to put no one out.”

  “You’re not putting me out, but you need a car, love. You really do.”

  “Cars cost money,” Gloria said. She folded her arms across her chest.

  “They certainly do. But I seen that one Telly’s tangled up with driving a brand-new one. Red and shiny as can be. You know where that came from.”

  Gloria didn’t say nothing. But I saw her fingers sticking into her arms. Maybe Mrs. Murtry saw too because she stopped talking about the new car.

  “Has there been any word?”

  “Nothing. No. Nothing at all.”

  “Well, that news report should help. I saw it last night. You all did a wonderful job, Gloria. You too, Maisy.”

  Gloria’s fingers stopped poking into her arms. “We did our best. No different from what any other family would do.”

  “And surely if they want to see you this morning, there’s some news. Maybe some leads?”

  Gloria sniffed, rubbed her eyes.

  “Some good news,” Mrs. Murtry said. “It’s only a matter of time, love. Not like a person can just vanish into thin air!” Then she slowed down in front of a building with two glass doors. “Does Maisy want to wait with me? I’ve got time. I’ll park over there and wait, okay?”

  “No. Telly’ll be here, too. He’ll run us home.”

  “If you’re certain.”

  “I am, Belinda. He’s moving back in with us, where he belongs.” Gloria sounded happy again.

  “Oh. That’s wonderful news.”

  “We just been so close these past two days. Realizing, I guess. What we had and what we lost. I just got this feeling, once he’s home, Rowan’s going to walk through my front door.”

  Mrs. Murtry smiled. “Isn’t that always how it works? Good things bring more good things.”

  Gloria nodded. We got out and Gloria waved at her as she drove away. I waved too.

 
“What a windbag,” Gloria said when she was out of sight. “Going on and on and on about that witch’s new car.”

  Inside, Gloria had to line up at a tall counter and say who she was. I could tell she didn’t like it when she had to tell about Rowan disappearing. Her cheeks went all pink. A lady in a black skirt said, “Yes, yes, oh my. I’m so sorry. Just this way. Straight through here.” She walked ahead and me and Gloria followed her. We went into a room. There were two chairs and a desk covered in messy piles of papers. The blinds on the window were open and sunlight was shining in. I sneezed two times and Gloria whispered, “Stop it.”

  The man who was in our house came in. He was wearing the same clothes, but his tie was different. It was blue and covered in question marks.

  “Is your husband joining us?” He sat down in his chair.

  “Telly’s not here?”

  “Not yet. We can wait a few minutes.”

  Gloria took a big deep breath. Her foot tapped.

  “No. If you got news, I want to hear it.”

  “News. Yes,” the man said. He went back in his chair. He put his hands on his stomach. “The appeal last night, Mrs. Janes. It really helped. We’ve already received a number of calls, and…” He went back further. His chair creaked. He might tip over. “Can we have, um, Maisy, is it? Can we have her wait outside?”

  I looked at Gloria, but her eyes were just zoomed in on the man.

  “Is that necessary?” Her voice was all squiggly. It sounded like those waves coming off the road on a hot day. If those waves made a noise.

  “I think it’s best,” he said. “We won’t be long. There’s a seat just outside my door. Maisy? Would you mind?”

  I went outside and sat in a plastic orange chair. There was a table next to me with a plant covered in dust and white dots. The door was still open a tiny bit. I closed my eyes to listen. I wanted to know where Rowan was hiding. I wanted to know when we could bring him home.

  “We have Mr. Gill in custody,” he said. “As I said we had a number of calls, and one came from the owner of a convenience store. Mr. Gill was there buying some items, and we arrived just as he was leaving. We were able to bring him in. He’s cooperating somewhat. Answering questions.”