Some Quiet Place
Page 27
I evaluate her quickly. Then, using my full speed, I’m in her face in a split second. She shrieks and drops the phone. She tries to dart to the side in an attempt to run around me, screaming all the while, but I easily corner her. Morgan watches all this silently.
“What are you?” the woman whimpers, holding her hands out in front of her face, like that alone is going to stop me.
My voice is a hiss. “Take your job seriously, or get out so someone more qualified can take your place. If you ever, ever leave Morgan alone again like you did the night of Sophia’s birthday party, I’ll come back. I don’t think I need to elaborate, do I?”
She’s already shaking her head vehemently, her blond pony tail swinging from side to side. I smile at her kindly, nodding. “Good.”
I turn away, disregarding her completely, and squat down in front of Morgan, blocking her view of the TV. Her watery gaze focuses. I realize how much she looks like Sophia. Two such different girls.
We study each other, and though she can’t possibly recognize me with this face, I get the sense that somehow, she does. I sigh. “Morgan, I can’t change your parents, and I can’t change your sister, but I can help. What you choose to do after this is up to you.” I reach up, pressing the heel of my hand against her forehead. I close my eyes, concentrating, using all the power I have to straighten, organize, smooth. Her mind is not completely altered, and it never will be, but with fresh Life flowing through her veins, she’ll have more understanding. She won’t have to struggle so much, and she’ll be able to speak for herself. It’s all I can do.
I lean back on my haunches, place my palms flat on my thighs, and jump to my feet.
Morgan sits there, blinking, tasting the new vibrancy of the world around her. She blinks up at me. Her voice, when she speaks to me for the second time ever, is loud and wondering.
“Thank you,” she says.
I smile at her, touching her chin. “You’re welcome, Morgan. I’ll come back to visit you soon, all right?”
She smiles back at me guilelessly, her pasty face glowing. I go to the door, remember the babysitter, and face her again. She’s still cowering in the corner.
“Goodbye. I really hope I don’t have to see you again.”
Eyes wide, she watches me go out the door. I leave it open, just to remind her I was here, lest she forget too soon.
Moments later I’m standing on the driveway, looking up at the big house. It’s beautiful in this light, the sun rising behind me. There, I think. That’s done.
Now I have just one more person to see.
I watch him for hours. From behind a tree, I can see the sweat seeping through his jacket as he helps his father harvest the near-worthless crops. They waited too long. When darkness falls I expect Joshua to follow his dad inside, but he still isn’t done. He goes into the barn, takes care of the animals. The place where he told me he loved me, the place where we kissed, the place where I was ripped from him.
And as I watch, I’m tormented. Should I go to him? Should I disrupt his existence again in an attempt to give this boy closure? If I leave him alone, will he be able to move on, live his life, be the normal person he needs to be? Or, if I leave now and never touch him again, will he flounder, sink deeper and deeper into dark waters? I think of our kiss, of his
gentle hands, of his glowing eyes as he looked at me. He wants Elizabeth back, and she’s gone forever. But he doesn’t deserve nothing. He deserves a goodbye. I remember Courage’s words again. You will need that boy in the end.
Now he needs me.
There’s no way to deny it. I used him. He was just a key to the door, and even knowing that, I let his feelings for me grow. Now he’s suffering for it. There’s nothing I can do to bring his joy back, because I can’t belong to him. I grip the tree bark, digging my fingers in until it hurts. Dry leaves respond instantly to the touch, becoming more vibrant hues of red and orange. Joshua wheels the barrow around the side of the barn, and at that moment I remember how Susie Yank was looking at him in the hallway. I think of possibilities, maybes, somedays, all the things I am still struggling not to avoid.
As I linger by the tree, Guilt shimmers into view, so close that I can smell her: a combination of sweat and … grease? She claps her hand on my shoulder, grinning, and I give her a baleful look. “Don’t be like that,” she purrs. “Just doing my job.”
“Well, you’ve done it,” I snap quietly, hating the flood of feeling that grips me. “Now go.”
With a smirk, she vanishes.
The sounds of the night are all around. Joshua still doesn’t go to bed. He tinkers at a workbench, building what looks like a birdhouse. Wind whistles through the tiny cracks in the walls. The gentle light Joshua has on stretches over the hay and out the doorway, toward me.
If we don’t take any risks, then we won’t find the things worth living for.
The words he once shouted at my back haunt me. It feels so long ago.
It’s as I’m watching him work, replaying that sentence over and over in my head, that I make a decision. Joshua is strong. So much stronger than I ever was, and unlike me, he is the kind of person to take risks for happiness. I treated him badly, but he doesn’t need my touch to appreciate life. I’m going to leave him with two things. A single memory of me as thanks—words on a page that he can reread as many times he wants—and a way to give him the future he’s constantly looking toward.
I run back to the car, hunt down a pen in the glove box. There’s no paper but an old receipt to be found, so I write on the back of it. When I’m done, I stick the receipt in the Hayes’ mailbox.
Dear Joshua,
I wish this was easier. I wish things were different. You are an incredible person, and you deserve to have everything you want .
I’m sorry for the way things ended. I want you to know that I really did care about you.
There are things I need to do. You don’t know everything about my past, and there are still so many unanswered questions.
You’re the one that brought me back to life.
Love,
Elizabeth
The second thing is easier. Careful to avoid being seen, I run through the field. The dying land senses me, leans toward me. I can feel it hoping, wondering. Once I reach the very center of the brown crops, I kneel. It’s such a simple thing to dig my fingers into the soil. This is what I was born to do. This is what Landon has bequeathed to me to finish on my own.
The power drains from my core, my veins, my very blood. It flows down through my hands into the ground. The surge is a physical sensation, and though I slump in exhaustion, it’s still invigorating to watch the change happening all around. The unharvested beans straighten, their stalks reaching toward the sky, becoming triumphant and full. But the crops aren’t the end of it. The power seeps deeper, deeper, reaching for the tired earth. Wake up, it says. Here’s what you need. I feel a shift. The moment I know I’ve accomplished life is when the cracked dirt melts away to mud.
And it’s done. My time in Edson, my friendship with Joshua, my ties to the Caldwell family. Gone. It’s bittersweet, but for the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward, too. Everyone has a purpose, and these people may not have known it, but they served so many for me. Maggie and her friendship, Sarah and her courage, Joshua and his innocence, Charles and his decision. They’ll live in my thoughts until the day the life completely fades from me.
As I’m blearily making my way back to my truck, a scream shatters the air. I pause, smiling.
“What next?” Fear asks from behind, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. Closing my eyes, I lean into him. Visions of horror and panting sweat erupt on the insides of my eyelids.
“I want to find my mom,” I tell him.
He doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll drive.”
I raise my brows at him. “Don’t you have summons to take care of?”
Fear tries to snatch the keys, but I manage to jerk them away just in time. He scowls down at me. “The worl
d can spin without me for a few minutes, woman. Come on, I’ve never driven before.”
I laugh, a sound that he cuts short with a kiss that tastes like strawberries and terror.
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