Turning Point

by K M Smith

  At first these rapid responses made her light-headed and even more nauseous, but she realized that when her bodily functions sped up, the world around her appeared to slow down. As she caught up, she was able to calm down and think. The sound of a coyote padding through her neighbor’s yard caught her attention but didn’t startle her, and it didn’t send her into another wave of shock. Instead, she sat motionless on the ground and let her body, and the world around her, reach a state of equilibrium.

  She took a deep, calming breath. Thank god for yoga. She recognized the area as her surroundings came into focus, but her being there wasn’t possible. Don’t hyperventilate. The streetlights looked familiar. So did the sidewalk. And the houses. The coyote was still there, watching her. The creature didn’t frighten her though it probably should have. Instead, she realized the animal should’ve been her first clue.

  “Go on, shoo!” she whisper-shouted and flinched in the coyote’s direction. It took off toward the woods, leaping over leftover snowbanks and heading out between the neighborhood houses.

  Alice stood and faced the front steps of her mother’s house in Albion.

  ◆◆◆

  The twenty-foot walk from the pile of leaves to her mother’s front porch was riddled with distractions. From the wake her arms and legs created as she moved to the pungent odor stirred up by her feet as she crushed the mushy leaves, she had to force herself to stay on task. With slow, deliberate steps, Alice made her way up to the front door. The porch light over the door was off, but the side motion lights had sprung to life the moment she started up the steps. The slushy snow squished under her feet, and the steps creaked quietly, at least she hoped it was quietly to everyone who wasn’t inside her head. In her mind, it sounded as if the wooden slats were splintering with each step.

  Alice hesitated at the front door. She peeked through the curtains. Inside, her mother’s house was dark, except for the blinking blue glow from the television in the living room, and there was no movement. As she waited, her surroundings became noisier. The motion-sensor light buzzed, a car’s engine ticked as it cooled somewhere down the street, the coyote snuffed as it padded away. Her sense of hearing cast a net that grew wider with each passing second and encompassed sounds she never would have expected to hear. You’re distracted again, Alice!

  Her mother must’ve fallen asleep with the television on. A pause in the newscaster’s voice allowed a murmur of soft breathing to reach Alice’s ears. The rhythmic sound brought Alice back to her youth: Spooning on the sofa, dozing in and out of sleep, comforted by the warm protection of her mother behind her. A tightness in her gut underscored how much she had missed her mom during her brief kidnapping.

  Closing her eyes and taking in a lungful of the night air, Alice let the intensity of her current situation sink in. On the other side of the door, her mother slept, unaware of Alice’s presence. What would she say when she saw Alice? Did she really send Adam to come get her?

  Done with waiting on the porch, Alice stepped forward, eager to reunite with her mom. Twisting the handle, she tried the door, hoping her mother had left it unlocked. No luck. Unswayed, Alice decided to knock, even though she was apprehensive about how the sound would resonate in her mind. She considered trying the back door, but she wasn’t sure she’d make it to the back of the house without blacking out from sensory overload.

  Bracing herself, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door. As suspected, the knocking sounded like drums in a tunnel, but she gritted her teeth and stayed put until the hesitant shuffle of slippered feet across a wooden floor told her her mother was coming. Not wanting to cause her mother to panic, Alice practiced different smiles and stances during the interminably long wait. Too big a smile would send warning bells through Sarah, then again, not smiling big enough would concern her as well. The focus now was keeping mom calm.

  Had it been seconds or hours since she knocked? Jittery and cold, Alice shivered and lamented not wearing her jacket when she went out with her friends the other night. They were supposed to have been inside the whole time so a few minutes walking from door to door should have been manageable for a born and bred Michigan girl. Instead, she’d spent a lot of time running through the woods, fleeing from vampires. Is this really my life now? She wrapped her arms around her midsection to conserve heat.

  Sarah peeked through the glass window beside the door frame. The moment she registered it was her knocking, she gasped and swung open the door.

  “Alice!” Eyes wide, Sarah opened her arms to her daughter. “Get inside, child! It’s freezing out! Oh my god, baby-girl, it’s so great to see you! Get in, get in!” She stepped back and ushered Alice inside, securing the door behind her.

  “Oh, Mom!” Alice cried out as soon as she stepped across the threshold, sensory overload be damned. She choked out a sob and crashed into her mother’s arms, burying her head against her shoulder. Seeing her mother brought her emotions to the surface, which set off an avalanche of sparks and horrible screeching sounds in her head. She was back at square one, as overwhelmed as when she first opened her eyes in the pile of leaves.

  “Shh, shh, it’s okay, sweetheart, you’re okay.” Sarah stroked Alice’s hair and, after a tight squeeze, guided her over to the couch.

  Teetering on wobbly legs, Alice made it the few steps from the door to the couch where she flopped down onto the well-worn cushions and cried. She had spent most of her childhood and adolescent years sitting on the corner cushion, the one nearest the front door, reading, watching television or talking with her mom. Sitting here now, surrounded by so much love and familiarity, she needed no urging to let the waterworks flow. She could never hide her emotions from her mother, and she didn’t try to now, even with the mayhem released in her brain by every sob and every tremble.

  “Alice, sweetie, try to breathe. Here, I’ve brought you some water. Have a sip.” Her mother stroked her hair and held the glass out for her.

  She gave a quick nod and took the glass. The cold water sent a shock through her as it hit her lips. She winced but regretted it as soon as she saw her mother’s face. Alice held the glass between her hands and offered Sarah a weak smile. Perched awkwardly on the edge of the cushion on the chair across from Alice, Sarah returned the smile, but it was obvious that her mother’s reaction was as genuine as her own had been.

  Both women remained silent. Her mother was waiting for her to speak, but Alice was nowhere near ready. Taking deep cleansing breaths to calm herself, she became distracted by the sound of her lungs filling with air. She was too amped up to meditate and thinking only made her more anxious. She remembered walking had helped her body regulate. That’s what she needed now, an equilibrium where her body and mind were in concert and she could function normally. Slowly, Alice stood and paced the room. One step and then another until she found a rhythm. Her bodily functions sped up, and even though her heart beat faster than if she were sprinting, she kept her breathing slow and focused. The everyday creaks and groans in the house were no longer debilitating. The light from the Tiffany table lamp didn’t sear her eyeballs. The lingering smells of her mother’s Sunday night meal, spaghetti with meatballs and garlic bread, didn’t bring on nausea. Confident that she would be able to speak, she returned to her place on the couch. She scooched forward and leaned in toward her mom.

  “Alice, sweetie, are you okay?” her mother asked, worrying at the folds of her pajamas.

  The colorful light from her mother’s Tiffany lamp caused her to squint slightly. She shaded her eyes.

  Copying Alice’s posture, her mother leaned forward, her eyebrows creased. She dug her nails into the arm of the chair and inspected Alice’s face.

  “I’m not on drugs, Mom,” Alice muttered, looking through her fingers at her mother. Her own voice was loud in her head.

  Sarah winced, and then her eyes grew big, “How did you know I was thinking that?”

  “You said it out loud,” Alice said, realizing her mistake too late. Crap. Her mother wasn�
��t likely to fall for that, but she had to try.

  “Alice. Come on.” Sarah gave her a knowing look.

  “I don’t know, I’m squinting and covering my eyes? You watched too many after school specials?” Alice looked down searching for her courage. “Okay, you didn’t say it out loud, but I still heard you.”

  “I gathered,” Sarah said, keeping her eyes on Alice. “How?”

  “I don’t know.” Alice took her hand away from her face so her mother could see how lost she felt.

  “Okay, that’s okay. We’ll figure it out,” Sarah mirrored the exhaustion, fear, and confusion on her daughter’s face. “Eventually. We’ll figure it out eventually. Right now, you need some water and some rest.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Alice said, reaching for the water her mother had left beside her. She took a long slow drink and focused on the sound of the water rushing in over her teeth then down her throat and followed the cool, rushing path it took as it made its way to her stomach. She’d felt a drink of water go down before but never like this. She discovered that the more intensely she focused on one stimulus, the more it lost its power to hurt her. This is going to take some getting used to. She sighed.

  Sarah reached out to stroke Alice’s hair, and Alice flinched. Instantly regretting her reaction, she cast pleading eyes at her mother before closing them and withdrawing in to herself again.

  “Alice, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

  “It’s okay, Mom. I’m… I’m going through something that I haven’t figured out how to deal with or explain yet. I’m trying, but I don’t know how to begin.”

  “That’s okay, honey. Why don’t you go up to your room and lie down? We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “I can’t.”

  Sarah shook her head and crinkled her eyebrows, “What? Why can’t you?”

  “I think if I try to walk up the stairs right now, I will pass out.”

  “Do I need to call Dr. Hillsdale?”

  Alice managed a small, crooked smile before replying. “No, Mom, you don’t need to call my pediatrician. I’m okay. I just need… I don’t know exactly what I need, but time would be good, for starters.”

  Sarah smiled, “Okay, I can give you time.” She stood up and tightened the belt on her robe before heading to the kitchen.

  Sitting alone in her mother’s living room gave her the opportunity, and space, to think.

  That’s when it hit her.

  How the hell did I get here? What has happened to me? To my body? Where did I go between New York and here? How long did it take? What day is it? I just assumed it was still Sunday, maybe it’s next week Sunday?

  ◆◆◆

  Her mother returned with a teapot and two steaming mugs of tea on a wooden tray. What should’ve been a happy moment of reunion had turned confusing and frightening. Alice sat on the couch, unable to move, with tears streaming down her cheeks. She blinked through the tears, but they kept coming. She wanted to forget all about vampires. And her father. And stupid Adam. Especially Adam. But that ship had sailed. How could she explain any of this to her mother?

  Sarah abruptly set the tray on the coffee table and reached out to wipe the tears from Alice’s face. She jerked her hand back when Alice’s eyes flashed open. Unknowingly, Alice sent out a wave of fear and confusion on the air. It was so potent it knocked Sarah back onto her chair.

  Sarah gasped and brought her hand to her mouth. The fear in her mother’s eyes pained her, but she couldn’t force herself to move. How could she reassure her mother that she was okay when she couldn’t stop crying? Maybe she wasn’t okay. Maybe she would never be okay. A renewed stream of tears slid down her cheeks.

  “Alice? Baby? Are you with me?” Sarah kept her hands away from Alice but leaned into her space.

  Sarah’s thoughts popped into Alice’s mind: ‘What is happening to my beautiful daughter?’ Sarah’s eyebrows drew together in concern, and she couldn’t seem to pull her hand away from her mouth. All the while, Alice only stared. ‘Let me help, you, baby,’ her mother thought and Alice sat motionless with her eyes open. Sarah looked over her own shoulder, following Alice’s line of sight, but there was nothing there. Alice simply couldn’t react.

  Eventually, Alice nodded. She wanted to speak, she wanted to tell her mother everything, but all the words crowded her brain at once, so none got through. She had to find a way to organize her thoughts and say something. Her mom would listen, even if she couldn’t possibly understand.

  Follow your thoughts, start at the start. Alice repeated the mantra over and over inside her head until finally one thought bubbled through.

  “I met Drew,” Alice said. Her voice flat, the words just tumbling out.

  “What do you mean you met Drew?” Sarah said. “You met Andrew? Your father?” Sarah’s voice ratcheted up a notch with each question.

  Alice replied with a slow nod, but now the dam had broken, and she seemed able to form sentences, so she continued with gusto. “Yeah. I guess you could say I did meet my... father.”

  Sarah inhaled through her fingers, and tears streaked down her cheeks. She grabbed her own wrist with her free hand. Sarah’s desire to reach out to Alice was palpable, but she hesitated.

  Alice closed her eyes and tried to force the strain out of her face. “Yes. I met Drew, but he wasn’t exactly paternal. In fact, he’s undead. Like Adam. And Jake, and Leo. And some other lady who was also there… Eliza was her name? I don’t know who she is or why she was there, but she kept herself between me and Drew. She also kept herself between Drew and Adam. Like I said, I don’t know why she was there.”

  “Alice, slow down, baby, you’re going too fast for me. Who are these people?”

  “They’re not people, Mom. Not anymore.” The air around Alice fizzed with electricity; the simple act of mentioning their names enough to agitate her.

  “What? What do you mean?” Sarah’s heart rate quickened and she swallowed heavily. Her knuckles went white as she gripped the arm of the chair. Tiny droplets of sweat appeared on the backs of her hands. Alice pressed on with her story.

  “They’re vampires. Like Adam. Remember, I told you about Adam?”

  “I remember,” Sarah said. Each syllable extended. “I had a… well, I thought I had a dream about Adam the other night.”

  Alice sat forward at this revelation. Sarah scooted forward as well, both women catching the edges of their seats.

  Her mother rubbed her hand around the back of her neck, then nodded, and continued, “Yeah, I uh, I thought I dreamt that Adam came by and told me you’d been taken by Andrew. It’s silly, I know. It doesn’t make sense, but, I uh, I guess that’s how dreams work, huh?” Sarah looked down and away.

  “It wasn’t a dream, Mom.”

  Sarah nodded, new tears sliding down her face. “I know, baby.”

  Hesitant, Alice gently placed her hand on top of her mother’s. The screaming pain and nausea she expected from skin-to-skin contact never came. Progress? It was the first moment of peace she’d had since waking; since being mentally invaded by Leo however many days ago, actually.

  “Mom,” Alice said, tears streaking her face as well. “Mom, it’s all real. Everything I’ve told you, all these strange dreamlike experiences, it’s all real. And now–” Alice shook her head and avoided Sarah’s eyes. Her throat tight, she swallowed hard but pushed through, determined to tell her mother everything. “You wouldn’t believe the weekend I’ve had.” Alice’s shoulders dropped, and she let out a long sigh of relief.

  Crinkling her eyes and nodding, Sarah placed her hand on top of Alice’s and squeezed.

  Alice looked down at their hands, then back up at her mother and smiled. She didn’t flinch, and her mind didn’t sear with overwhelming sensory input. It was time to face her new reality. Inhaling deeply, she said, “Mom, I don’t know how I got here tonight. Like, I literally don’t know.”

  “What do you mean?” Sarah asked, her voice hesitant. She gripped Alice’s hands tighter.

&nb
sp; “Mom, I was at Drew’s house in New York with all of these vampires. They were fighting, and I freaked out, and suddenly I woke up in a pile of leaves across the street.” Alice trembled as she put words to what she’d experienced.

  “Baby, that can’t be. They must’ve drugged you or something. People don’t just disappear and… reappear.”

  “But, I did, Mom. I know it.” She must’ve sounded like the crazy folks who talk about being abducted by aliens and losing weeks of their lives only to wake up in a corn field, unharmed and fully clothed. Maybe they weren’t so crazy after all.

  Sarah opened her mouth and closed it right away without saying anything.

  “I don’t understand it, really Mom, I don’t. But one second, I was in this really gorgeous Victorian living room in Manhattan, and the next I was here, in Albion. I can only attribute it to the arguing. The more they argued—about me—the more agitated I became. Like my whole body started shivering and vibrating. And that’s all I remember about New York.” Alice wiped away the stray tear that rested just above her cheekbone. She was on a roll and needed to tell her mom as much as possible before she lost it all in her overworked mind. “And, also, I’ve been having strange experiences where I can hear inside some people’s minds. Like when I just heard you a minute ago. That’s not the first time that’s happened to me. And that’s probably why my body didn’t freak out on me then, either.”

  Sarah’s mouth fell open, and she stared blankly at her daughter.

  “I’m getting there,” Alice said, sensing her mom’s confusion. “Anyway, since I met Adam, I’ve discovered that I can sometimes have mental connections with people—even whole conversations. Like when I was in the woods behind the restaurant hiding from Jake and Leo, Adam was there with me, talking to me in my mind.” The words sped out of Alice’s mouth, but Sarah stopped her there.