Hideaway

by Nicole Lundrigan

  I stayed by the basement door with Chicken for a long, long time. He puffed out air. I puffed out air, too.

  “Are you old and reeee-dicalus?” I asked him. He lifted up his big head and licked my face.

  My stomach growled. I started thinking about beans. They were in the basement. I could open a can and eat them. I could go down there real quiet and get the can and come back up. The same as I did for Gloria. That would be okay. That was listening. That was doing what she said to do.

  “Can I get some beans?” Chicken licked my face again.

  “Okay,” I said.

  I got the key from the same box in Gloria’s closet. She didn’t even change the hiding spot. I stuck the key in the basement-door lock. It opened. Chicken got up and his tail was wagging hard but I closed the door behind me so he wouldn’t sneak down. I went fast down the stairs and grabbed the string and yanked. Light burst on. The beans were in the box, and I picked up a can and held it in my hand. I could hear noises from behind Rowan’s door. My throat got tight. The can was cold. I squeezed it. I had to go back upstairs, but my feet went forward. My feet weren’t good listeners. They went closer to the door.

  The fan was turned off, and I could hear him. He was scritching at something. I bet he had claws.

  I tapped one finger on the door. That finger wasn’t a good listener neither.

  “Turtle?”

  I didn’t say nothing.

  “Turtle? Is that you?”

  Two loud thumps came on the door. My feet took some big steps back until I was far away.

  “Let me out, Turtle.”

  It felt like spikes went in my middle. I shouldn’t have come down. What if Gloria came home? What if she told a man and he came to take me? What if Rowan exploded out of that room and—and. But I couldn’t think of what he’d do.

  “Let me out,” he cried.

  But you’re a wolf.

  “You can do this. Stick your neck out, Turtle.”

  But you don’t sound like a wolf.

  “Are you still there? Hello? Hello?”

  I held my breath. I think I heard him crying. My arms and legs got spikes too. I dropped the can of beans and it rolled away.

  “I’m your brother,” he said. Then he screamed out so sharp, “I am your brother!”

  But Gloria says. Gloria says you’re a wolf.

  * * *

  —

  When she got home, Gloria came in my room and put the spoon of green cough vitamins in my mouth. My middle was still shaking but she couldn’t see. She pulled up my sheet. She smoothed it down and kissed me on the forehead.

  “Me and your dad had a wonderful meal tonight.”

  “Was it good?”

  “Yep. Real good. We had burgers and fries. Nothing fancy, but I’ve never asked for fancy.” She smoothed her finger over her mouth. There was still some peachy lipstick there.

  “Oh,” I said.

  “We talked, Bids. Really had a good talk. I could tell we connected. I helped him figure stuff out. Made him see what’s what.” She clapped her hands and laughed loud. “After all this time, he’s finally, finally seeing my side of things. It’s going to be okay.” She pinched my cheek. But not hard. “I wanted you to know. He’s coming back and we’re going to figure out everything.”

  “Okay.” I laughed too. Gloria had twinkly eyes because Telly was moving home. He’d know what to do. He’d fix things.

  “I knew he’d be back. I’ve been watching him, you know? Him and her at their house. Leaving all their lights on at night. Curtains wide open. Easy enough to see everything, Bids. And I could tell, I could just tell, he was almost out of his mind. Numb with her. I mean, what could he have ever seen in some stick of a woman who cleans gunk off teeth? Poor Telly.” She chewed her lip and smiled. “I know that man better than he knows himself. And me and him? Things like the two of us don’t unravel so easy. Not with that history, they don’t.” She shook her head back and forth. Her skin looked peachy, too. “Oh, Bids. I just knew. I just knew.”

  ROWAN

  I don’t know how many days I’d been in there, but the throbbing in my head was lessening. I was still sore, but when I tapped my tooth with my tongue, it seemed stronger. The wiggle was gone. Maybe that was a good sign. It could be a good sign. Things might be okay. Just like Dot had said. I couldn’t give up. I had to keep trying.

  I got up and leaned against the sink. Cupping warm water from the tap, I dampened my hair. Pushed it over to the side. I reached under the shirt and sweater and tried to rinse the stench from my armpits. Inside my chest, I felt the thinnest thread of hope. I stared at my face, which now seemed unfamiliar to me. My brain could not connect my eyes with my nose and my mouth. All the parts were separate. Would Gloria even recognize me?

  Then she was outside the door, humming a song and fiddling with the lock. I sat back down and put my head on the cold linoleum, but I couldn’t see past the bunched-up fabric. The door creaked open. I could smell more beans. While the thought of beans made me sick, my stomach ached and growled.

  “Gloria,” I whispered. A dry croak. “Has Telly decided?”

  She nodded. “He will.”

  “Really? Can I say something?” This was my one chance of the day to explain. I had to do it right.

  She didn’t answer.

  I stood up again, gripped the edge of the counter. “Gloria? I’m sorry for everything I’ve done. I’m sorry I ran away. I really am. I’m sorry I made you worry or if you were scared or if I was too much trouble and that’s why Telly left in the first place. I realize everything now. I’ve been doing a lot of good thinking. I really have, and I figured it all out. I’ve caused enough problems, and from now on, I’m going to be perfect. You can count on that. It’s a promise.”

  She glanced at me then, and I tried to smile.

  “Your dirty friend,” she said, “had quite a lot to say. Made a real mess of things.”

  “You mean Carl?”

  “Telly’s head is muddled with it all, but it’s going to be straightened out soon. You can’t imagine the aggravation I’ve had over it. With this mess.”

  “What mess? What did he do?”

  “Oh, he did plenty. But the worst of it? He killed you.”

  “What?”

  “Apparently, you’re dead.”

  “I’m dead?”

  She tilted her head. “Are you? Are you dead?”

  For a split second I wasn’t sure.

  “Well, you’re as good as dead. But I’m going to bring you back to life. Soon.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  Her eyes were wide, and her face was shiny.

  “You’re going to stay right here, mister, and when Telly gets home, we’ll figure out the story. Like I already said.”

  My legs were weak and wobbly, but my heart punched in my chest. “What story? What are you talking about?”

  “You’ll know when you need to know.” She dropped the beans on the floor. Cold brown liquid spattered my legs. “We had a lovely dinner last night.”

  “All of you? You guys had dinner together?” Without me? The sadness inside me vanished. Beneath it, a glassy spray of anger. “How long am I stuck down here? How long!”

  She was so calm when she said, “Are you thick? How many times do I got to repeat myself? Until Telly says so.”

  I leaned toward her, “When I get out of here, I’m going to tell everyone. Tell everyone what you did.”

  “You think?”

  “You’ll be screwed, Gloria.”

  She opened her mouth, started to laugh, and at that moment I shoved the door forward. It struck her lip. She yelped, grabbed her face. I stumbled past her. Climbed over the peeling leather couch. My heart was beating hard and blackness crowded my vision. Gasping, I scrambled toward the stairs. My legs were lead, but I could do it. I could make it. Once I got outside, I’d run. Up the driveway and into the circle. I’d run to Darrell’s. Run to Mrs. Spooner’s house. I’d scream and yell and some
one would hear me or see me with my arms swinging around like crazy. Someone would help.

  My foot caught on a box of cans. I tripped. Flew forward. My bony ribcage struck an empty toolbox. Then a slippery vice grip on my ankle. Dragging me back. I cried, “Maisy! Maaaiseeeee!”

  Her hand clamped over my mouth and she lifted me right off the ground, her arm a noose around my waist. She carried me, effortlessly. I kicked backwards, but my weak legs only met air. She threw me into the bathroom again. When I hit the floor, pain shot up through my spine.

  “Please, Gloria. I didn’t mean that. I’ll say whatever you want. I’ll say anything.” Her lips were pulled apart and I could see her gums. “I won’t say a word. I promise. I won’t say anything. Please just let me out. Please.” Tears poured from my eyes. Muscles shaking.

  With her foot she hooked the bowl of beans. A flick of her toes, the bowl skidded out of the bathroom, flipped, the contents covered the back of the couch.

  “Please.”

  Her dark form filled the entire doorframe. “You stupid, stupid boy.” Then she closed the door and locked it.

  * * *

  —

  A dull ache filled my head and my chest. The lights would not turn off. The whirring fan would not slow down. Water would not sit and wait inside the toilet. The dead centipede in the corner would not stick out its thin legs, balance on pin toes, and crawl toward me.

  My skull grew woozy with flatness. With dullness. With sameness.

  But most of all. With loneliness.

  I pulled my arms inside the shirt Carl had given me. I closed my eyes and hugged my chest. I no longer knew where I began or where I ended. I couldn’t feel my boundaries. I was cement and I was sink and I was tape shoes and I was curling linoleum and I was pine-scented wisp of nothing.

  Whenever I was awake I leaned against the black pipe in the corner and tapped and tapped. Made up a code and spelled out I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

  No one answered. No one understood.

  MAISY

  The next day Gloria was just like Chicken. For hours she went from the kitchen to the front door. She kept picking up the phone and listening and putting it back down. “Just making sure it works,” she said. Telly was going to call any minute. Then she went to the door again. She looked out the window. “This homecoming needs to be planned out. What with, you know, downstairs and all.” She pointed her thumb at the basement door. “I told him he had to call. I really hope he doesn’t just show up.”

  He didn’t just show up.

  For dinner she cooked a big breakfast. “Why not?” she said. “We don’t have to follow any rules.” She fried eggs and sausages. She made toast. The smell went everywhere. I wondered if it went through the floor and into the basement. Maybe Rowan could smell it too.

  It made me think of the place I went with Telly and Dian. Barney’s Diner. “Is this like br-lunch?” I asked.

  Her eyes got small. “What would you ever know about brunch?”

  I shook my head fast. “Nothing.”

  “Brunch is not a proper meal. Only lazy people use that word. People who can sleep in and don’t got to work.” She put a plate in front of me. It was piled up with a lot of food. “This is a proper meal.”

  Gloria sat down and hummed as she ate. “You don’t recognize that tune, do you?” I shook my head again but she didn’t see. She was looking at the spoon from her coffee. It was in front of her face. She smoothed her hair. “I had quite the voice when I was young, Bids. Full of talent. They said I could’ve gone professional.”

  “That’s nice,” I said.

  “Nice?” She dropped the spoon and it made a loud noise. I jumped. “Is that the best you can do?” My heart started to beat fast. “Honestly,” Gloria said. “The conversation in this house just makes my head spin. It’s so bland. Why can’t you say something interesting or insightful?”

  I looked down at my sausages. All I could think of was Carl. He would break the wieners in half and give the big parts to Girl. That was being nice, Rowan said. Nice.

  Gloria smacked the table. “Are you in there? Why don’t you talk, hey? I can’t figure out what goes on in that thick little skull of yours.”

  I swallowed. I couldn’t think of no words.

  “Nothing. That’s what I’d say. Nothing goes on.”

  She poked me between my eyes with her finger. My head popped back. Then she got up and went to the phone again. She checked the front door. She yanked up the curtain and pulled it back down. Outside there were only long lines of sunlight getting smaller and smaller.

  “Why isn’t he calling? He promised he would. First thing. I don’t get it. I just don’t get it. That witch isn’t making it easy on him. I’d bet this house that’s the problem.”

  * * *

  —

  Gloria was braiding my hair but she put the wrong bit under another bit and it turned out bad. She stuck her fingers in and tugged hard. Some of my hair got knotted up in her fingers.

  “I can’t manage a thing today.” She threw the comb in the sink. “Not even your frizzy mess.”

  She was angry because Telly didn’t call last night. And he didn’t call this morning neither.

  “I hate all this waiting.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I slid off the bathroom counter.

  “That’s the problem with Telly. He don’t want to hurt no one’s feelings.”

  Then, through the open window, I heard pebbles crunching. The sound of a motor. Gloria busted out of the bathroom and ran down the stairs. “That can’t be Telly,” she said. “I told him he had to call. Insisted on it.”

  I raced behind her.

  She didn’t go to the door. She went to the kitchen sink and lifted up the curtain. I climbed on the stool so I could see out too. Telly’s truck wasn’t there, but a different one was. It was white and dirty with a sticker on the side. But I couldn’t read what it said. A man got out. He had no hair and had sunglasses on, and the front of his T-shirt looked dirty too. He was holding an envelope. Gloria dropped the curtain, but we could still peek out. The man was on our porch and we couldn’t see him no more, and then he knocked on the door. My eyes got sparkles and stars. He was coming for me.

  Sobs burst out. “I didn’t tell nobody, Gloria. I didn’t.”

  “Will you be quiet?” Gloria whispered. Some of her spit hit my face. “It’s probably some weirdo. A kid dies and that gets some sickos excited.”

  He knocked again. Harder this time.

  “They want to see where it all happened. Like a damn tourist attraction. That’s their thrill.”

  I tried to clamp down my sobs. My chest was shaking bad.

  He knocked again. So loud it had to hurt his knuckles.

  “Well,” Gloria said. She wiped her hands across her cheeks. “I’m not going to be a sheep in my own home. I refuse.”

  She yanked open the front door.

  “You got no right to be on my front porch, sir,” she said.

  “Gloria Janes?”

  “That’s me.”

  “This is for you.” He pushed the envelope at her and she took it.

  “What is it?”

  “Explains itself.” Then he turned around and said, “As for your porch, you might look into painting it. Before all the wood rots.” He went back in his truck. It backed out of our driveway and looped around and drove away.

  Gloria slammed the door. “Who does he think he is? Talking to me like that.”

  I took some big breaths. My heart slowed down. I was glad he was gone. Gloria was glad too I think, but she wasn’t smiling. She went back to the kitchen and sat down at the table and ripped the envelope. There was lots of paper inside.

  “This don’t make no sense,” she said. “It don’t make no sense.”

  “What, Gloria?”

  “It’s from Telly.”

  “He’s coming back?”

  She wiped some wet off her mouth. “No, no. No. He didn’t understa
nd me. Not one pinch. We had such a lovely dinner. Everything was figured out. Now these papers. These. He—he wants to make things official.”

  “Like getting married?”

  “God help me.” She threw the papers on the table. “How dense can you get? We’re already married, you idiot.” Then she crunched up the papers in her fist. “This pile of trash says he wants to get divorced.”

  Gloria got up and stomped around the kitchen. Chicken was right behind her. She was mumbling. “He didn’t understand a single word I said. He wasn’t even listening.” She went back to the table. She smoothed out one of the pages in her fist. She talked slow. “Disso-what? Dissolu of marital. Dissolution of marital assets? What does that mean?”

  I burped. I didn’t feel good inside.

  “Oh my god,” she said. “Oh my god!” She slammed the paper on the counter.

  I looked at Gloria. I opened my mouth. Clouds in my head got thick and dark. I couldn’t see through them.

  “Your father. Your bastard father! He’s going to sell my house.”

  MAISY

  After those papers came, me and Gloria didn’t go out for a lot of days. She told me chicken pox was coming. I wasn’t itchy, but she said, “I got a sixth sense about these things.”

  I stayed in my pajamas and Gloria banged around the house. She talked loud but she didn’t talk to me. She said, “I bought this. Out of my hard-earned dollars. He never had a cent, not one red cent, and now he wants to take it away?”

  She rubbed her head a lot. I saw her put her hands on the wall like she wanted to know if it was cold. Sometimes she went outside by herself and walked around and around the circle. Aunt Erma and Mrs. Murtry and Mrs. Spooner came out and waved at her. She didn’t wave back. She just stopped by the red fire thing near the bus stop and didn’t move.

  Then she sat in the kitchen. She chewed on the back of her wrist. She tapped her fingers for hours and hours. “Where does that moron think we’re going to go?”

  She didn’t even tie Chicken up no more. All day he slept by the basement door. He pushed his nose into the bottom and whined.