Girl From the Tree House

by Gudrun Frerichs

  “Who else noticed the dark shadow right after Maddie passed out? It flushed through the room like hell’s angels.”

  We all sit on pillows in the common room for our meeting. Ama, our relict from the 19th Century calls it a tribal council. She’s watching way too much TV that woman. I’m surprised she hasn’t brought torches for each of us as they have in the Survivor series on TV.

  When I look up, I have a dozen pairs of eyes resting on me in puzzled incomprehension. I’d love a pocket mirror right now to check whether I have a smudge on my nose, or a piece of spinach stuck between my front teeth. It can’t be spinach. I haven’t had spinach this Century.

  “Am I the only one paying attention? Didn’t Miss Marple say more than once we have to stop being specialists and become all-rounders, showing interests beyond our original job-description and paying attention?”

  “Easier said than done. She talked about integration. She even used the ill-fated coffee and milk metaphor. It’s stupid. As if we could flick a switch labeled integration and it all happens just like that.” Luke raises his hands signaling he wants nothing to do with such a crazy notion. I totally understand him. How can anyone expect us to work toward a thing we don’t know? Don’t you have to have at least an idea, a vision, or something like that?

  “The whole integration idea is ludicrous. I want someone to explain it to me intelligently and not treat me like a moron. Coffee and milk? Really? Are we staples you pick from the pantry when guests come visiting out of the blue? Or are we individuals with dreams and needs? What if we can’t do it and get stuck somewhere in-between?” Amadeus’ voice is blasting so loud through the room Ama has to shush him.

  “Don’t wake the kids. Perhaps integration is like Europe.” Ama pauses and looks for words.

  “Europe? You can’t be sérieux.” I’m surprised Lizette has an opinion about something other than clothing and men.

  Ama puts her knitting aside. “Yes, Europe. What used to be twenty-odd individual countries, each with its own borders, currency, traditions, and language is now one union without borders.”

  Phoenix shakes his head. “Being Europe is not a helpful concept. I’m more concerned about what happens if we do manage to integrate. Would that mean some of us would become redundant and be put on a junk heap for spare parts in case other parts break? If I can feel Maddie’s feelings, does that mean she is not needed anymore and has to go away? I couldn’t do that to her. And where would she go?”

  Sky, who’s listened to the arguments, puts up her hand to stop us. “We’re confused about the concept of integration and won’t solve it now. Let’s shelve it for a later date when we have time for more than the daily routine of survival. It was a good diversion, though, from the scary subject of the evil shadow Lilly and I noticed during Maddie’s flashback.”

  I swear we all looked very sheepish at that moment, caught again going off on a tangent. It feels as if we are the ambulance at the bottom of the cliff, picking up the casualties of our daily life. That can’t be a healthy strategy. Will we ever be able to act before we have to do a crash landing?

  “Please, don’t feel bad about it. Dissociation is, after all, the ultimate avoidance. Stepping aside and re-directing the impact on another part of the Tribe is in our DNA. It’s not easy to fight against our nature. I didn’t realize Lilly had noticed the dark presence. I was about to ask you if anybody had. I hoped I was mistaken. It complicates things.” Sky rests her head on her hands and stares into the flames of the fireplace.

  “I’ve noticed it when Maddie is getting lost in the past, but on other occasions too.” I try to remember which other occasions I felt this odd vibe. I don’t even know whether it is a vibe. It feels as if the temperature drops by at least fifty degrees, a dark shadowy mist rushes past and a skeletal hand presses on one’s windpipe. It’s like in those horror movies, where the heroine goes into a dark catacomb and you know mortal danger lurks around the corner. You want to shout, “Don’t go there. Go back.” But it’s all for nothing.

  Sky must have read my thoughts because she nods. “You’re right. That’s what I pick up too. It’s been around Maddie from the beginning when she came to us.”

  “I didn’t know that. I’ve felt it the last few months when Maddie struggled. Does she feel it too? I hate to think she’s exposed to such vile energy.” I can’t suppress my disgust. Whatever or whoever this evil energy is if you want to pick on us, pick on the grownups and not on little kids. It’s a disgusting cowardice.

  Sky looks at me as if she’s studying a map that should be familiar but reveals unexpected surprises. “You are changing. I’m… I don’t know. You never used to involve yourself as much as you do lately.”

  “You’re giving me too much credit. I care. That’s all.” I shrug and try to give the impression that it’s not a big deal for me. Inside, though, I feel as proud as punch that Sky notices the effort I’m making.

  “The dark energy has been around for years. I’m worried because I feel it’s getting stronger.”

  “Sky! You’re scaring me. What do you mean by it’s getting stronger, and it complicates things?” Luke is shifting uncomfortably on his pillow. There you have it. The problem of being a specialist. Luke knows all about fixing things, but he doesn’t pay attention to other things, like the stuff you can’t see. He likes to look the enemy in the eye.

  Sky looks tired. It’s been only two days since we left Helen’s house. Since then a hell of a lot has happened. She’s been more involved in the last two days than in the last two years. Normally, she’s like her name, the sky, forever there but rarely involved.

  “I wasn’t the only one who came when they murdered Elizabeth. Something else came with dangerous energy. I had the same sense of danger when Maddie had her flashback earlier today.” Sky pointed at me. “Lilly’s felt it too.”

  Amadeus jumped up and paced the room with large strides. Everybody stops talking and waits to hear what he has to say. He looks like the Viking God, Odin. Honestly, I’m not kidding. His hair is falling in wild waves onto his shoulder. He hasn’t got the armor and the lance, but the signs of numerous fights are deeply carved into the plains of his face.

  He’s not wearing a tunic like Odin in the pictures, but a black singlet, a black pair of jeans, and, if I’m not mistaken, steel capped workingman’s boots. He has muscles the size of a small pumpkin and is strong like a horse. His powder blue eyes can incinerate you with just one glance. I swear; one glance and you’re toast.

  “Are you saying there is a part in here we don’t know yet? Like a sleeper?” Amadeus is short of staring a hole into Sky. Maybe we should tell him to ease up a little? But then, you don’t tell Amadeus stuff, he tells you.

  “It’s possible.” I can tell Sky is not paying a lot of attention to Amadeus. She’s listening inside, trying to find a corner in our collective mind, where someone could hide from our view.

  “If that asshole hasn’t shown its face for all these years we’ve lived with Horace, he, she, or it can piss off. We don’t need a coward showing up and complicating things now.” Yes, Amadeus is flexing his muscles. He’s in fighting mode. Unfortunately, that means he isn’t engaging his brain much. When he gets going, clear thinking is not part of the deal. His modus operandi is to shoot first, ask questions later. You can see that with most people. When angry, their capacity to use their intelligence is close to zero.

  Miss Marple said once, “If you lot would express your angry feelings, Amadeus wouldn’t have to do it all for you and would be less of a loose cannon.” I don’t think he appreciated that comment. That was when whatever alliance those two had, went up in smoke. Puff! I could have told her Amadeus doesn’t take well to criticism.

  I digress. I had a thought a moment ago and… it’s gone now. Ah, yes. The house.

  “Sky, could it be that the energy we’ve felt has something to do with Wright’s Homestead? If we’ve lived here years ago, maybe there are triggers all over the place?” I was very prou
d of my observation and earned nods from Ama, Lizette, and Luke.

  “D’accord. All our problèmes started when we got here. Maybe we should partir and find a better-suited maison.” Lizette mock-polishes her fingernails. She has a point. I’m not the only one thinking of leaving and looking for another place as a valid alternative. Not that I don’t like the place. Believe me, I do. But we’ve just arrived and already we are in crisis mode.

  “It would make things easier in the short term. I believe we ended up here for a reason. The Bible with the deed, Helen’s eagerness to have us committed, the familiar house, and the doll, are all signs we shouldn’t ignore. I vote for staying and using our time here to find out as much as we can about how we ended up in this mess.”

  Sky looks at each of us and must notice that her speech fails to convince us. “I agree it would have been better to have more time to settle. But I’d rather have us being triggered here, where we can learn to live together without the danger of outside interference, than being among people that don’t understand what we need. Horace’s doctors weren’t all charlatans paid off by the NGPD to lock us up. Some truly believed in their diagnosis. We’ll come across that wherever we go.”

  I hate it when she does that—being sensible and saying all the right things. It takes the wind out of my sails. How can someone always be good, do the right thing, say the right thing, and never ever fly off the handle? It’s so irritating, especially when there’s no chance to even come close to that kind of noblesse or think of an awesome comeback.

  For a moment, Sky looked taken aback. Reading my mind is not fair. “It’s not so unusual if all you can do is watch and think. Every waking moment thinking and then thinking some more. I admire—and yes even envy sometimes—your ability to take action and get in the middle of things.” In all those years together, I’ve never heard her expressing something even remotely like regret. My heart is melting, and I feel awful for being such a pest.

  Sky looks at me with a faint movement of her head from side to side as the flicker of a smile passes her lips. “You are not a pest.” Then she looks everyone straight in the eye.

  “Think about it: Why did Horace marry Elise? They never consummated the marriage. He never showed her more than common courtesy. Something is not right. Horace was a friend of Elizabeth’s father. I want to find out once and for all how he ended up being Elise’s guardian. We need time to process the trauma without having to move from town to town and look over our shoulder all the time. If a dark force came with Maddie, it would follow us wherever we go. It’s there for a reason. Once we understand what that reason is, it will make perfect sense. I want us to stop running from ghosts we can’t name. We deserve to live peacefully and without fear. I want us to be free.”

  I’ve never heard Sky speak with such passion. Holy smoke. She had us all at free. Yes, we want to be free of fear. More than anything we want to be free from worries about our safety.

  Ama throws in a word of caution. “I can see problems with staying here. The kids could be difficult to handle if they are reminded of all the bad stuff that happened. See how little was needed today for Maddie to end up slipping into the past again. I don’t know if I can keep everyone safe. Then there is getting Elise on board. It might not take much for her to try to take her life again.”

  “Elise? Good riddance. I’m tired of her theatrics.”

  “Amadeus!”

  “What? You disagree? She, who doesn’t even remember all the bad stuff? She’s not been there. Maddie has, Elizabeth has, others have. They don’t run around like her, the back of their hand on their forehead, stumbling about like a star in a silent movie, oh-ing, and ah-ing and collapsing to the ground. How many suicide attempts did she make? How many? All the time getting us in trouble, and she wasn’t even there when shit happened. I’m sick and tired of that silly woman. Sick and tired.”

  Amadeus gets up and mimics Elise, stumbling around the room and stuttering in her high-pitched voice, “I can’t bear it anymore, I feel so bad, I can’t sleep, where are my pills so I can end it.”

  I fight back a smile. He’s got a point. Sometimes it’s hilarious to watch Elise going on. But Sky will not tolerate us fighting her. How does she do it? She always sees the good in people.

  “Elise is doing the best she can. If she could do any better, she would. Nobody is waking up in the morning thinking, today I’ll mess up my life.”

  Amadeus shrugs. “That’s my opinion. She’s a wet blanket and a bloody nuisance. We’re better off without her.”

  Luke throws a small pillow at Amadeus. “Didn’t you listen when Miss Marple said when one part commits suicide, we all die?”

  Amadeus put the pillow aside. “Don’t do that again. It’s rubbish. What did that lady know? Nobody died when Elizabeth was murdered. I don’t believe her. She only wanted to scare us.”

  Ama sits silently on her pillow and listens to the arguments flying around the room. Then she pushes off the floor with her massive arms. She looks like a sumo wrestler rising off the ground, fleshy bits wobbling back and forth as she straightens herself. “We agreed that, as we sit in the same boat, we would all row in the same direction. Haven’t we made great progress since we decided that at the beginning of this year?”

  “Yes, we have, Ama. And nobody is getting rid of Elise. Let’s not fight about things we can’t prove right now. We need a plan for how we find clues and evidence of our early life. What happened? When did the parents die? Where are they buried? Elise has to register us as the owner of Wright’s Homestead.” Sky looks tired and I know we have to wind up before she fades away.

  “I will work on Elise. I’ll get the book Ama started and teach her about us.”

  “Thanks, Lilly, that’s a great idea. We all could try to talk to her. I swear she heard Maddie whispering about the tree when we arrived. That’s a promising beginning.”

  “I’ll look in the house for clues of the past and see what the kids remember of our early life. They’ve been attached to Miss Marple. Is there any chance to contact her?”

  “Perfect Ama, I know you’ll be careful not to push the kids too far. Maybe Lilly can ring Charlotte and see if she’ll work via Skype with us.”

  “I’ll search the grounds for clues. I could also look for the white house behind the wall Maddie saw in her flashback.”

  “Brilliant, Luke. The doll might not be the only reminder of our time here.”

  “Don’t forget Auntie Amanda’s diary. We could look for information there,” Ama said and turned to the fireplace, dispersing the last bits of glowing embers.

  “I’ll help Phoenix making sure we are safe here and keeping an eye on this Scottie guy. We could build a few booby traps that warn us in case someone approaches.”

  “That’s a good idea. Having more security around the place would be a great relief, Amadeus.”

  “We can search the internet for information. I’ve bought a USB WIFI connection; we are online again. Maybe we can find stuff from the eighties and early nineties that helps us further.” I have little hope of finding old documents that help us further, but at least I can keep an eye out for what Helen is up to.

  “I thought you and Lizette would be right for that kind of research.” Sky turned to Lizette and me. “We all have to put whatever we find onto paper, so everyone knows what we discover. Lizette, you can then take things a step further and search for more information online.”

  Ama got up and put a stop to the conversation. “I see everyone is tired. This was a good session. Looks like we have a long to-do list.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Elise: 20 November 2015, Afternoon, Wright’s Homestead

  Prince has his head tipped to the side and looks at me as if to say, “What’s the matter with you?”

  Why wouldn’t he be puzzled? I’m puzzled about my life and me all the time. By the position of the sun, it must be past midday. What happened to my morning? Where did the time go? Prince licks my left hand, which reminds m
e of getting my hand squashed in the back door. A throbbing pain shoots up my arm accompanying that memory.

  I don’t have a watch, only the time on my mobile phone. I try not to look at it because it upsets me when I see how much time has passed without me knowing what went on. Anyhow, I haven’t seen my phone since the funeral.

  It might seem important for other people to know what time it is. It never has been for me. Heaven only knows how I showed up on time for classes when I was at school. But I always did.

  “There is no clearer sign of a person being not right in the head,” Helen used to point out, “than looking at your watch and wondering where you have been the last four hours or what you’ve been doing.”

  She’s right, of course. Although, for me it just was. I knew no different. Time was a concept that held no meaning for me. For all I know, I could have robbed a bank, or killed the Prime Minister. The good news is the Prime Minister lives in Wellington and doesn’t hang out in a small town on the West Coast. Unless there is a mining accident and he/she can use this as a photo opportunity and say, “I’m sorry for your losses.”

  Charlotte told me when I lose time and have no recollection of what happened, it doesn’t mean I have a bad memory or short attention span. According to her another part of me is taking control of the body and does things like cooking or driving somewhere.

  I mean how can one lose time? It’s not that I wear time like a bracelet on my wrist or keep it with my coins in my purse. How can you lose it? That’s crazy stuff. I wanted to tell her I don’t care what she thinks. This ‘having parts’ thing… I don’t care about it. I didn’t ask for it. And sure as the sun rises in the morning, I don’t like having it.