Lilly gets up from the ground and lifts her arm. “The last thing we need is fighting among us. We did the best we could. Period. And the drugs they gave us didn’t help either.” She giggles as if she suddenly turned shy. “Since when am I the wise one? We have to break down barriers rather than putting up new ones.”
“Lilly is right. Look at how many things have already improved since we left Waitakere Flats. If we follow Miss Marple’s words, pay attention to each other and stretch ourselves by doing things that are uncomfortable, we will achieve our goal. I’m sure Elise is the key. She’s the one who’s most often in the body. If we can make her listen to us more, working together with us, accepting our memories as hers, we’ll make huge progress.”
“Mes Amis, what you are saying means integration and integration means we disappear and all that’s left is Elise. I don’t want to die. Well, maybe sometimes I want to go away or want you all to go away when you all behave grotesquely, but not in reality.”
“I disagree, Lizette. Integration doesn’t mean we die. It’s a stupid word anyhow because it says nothing. Imagine Elise without us in the background. She wouldn’t know how to stand up for herself; everyone would walk right over her. She would be a doormat and probably abused until the end of her days.”
We are not getting anywhere by slinging different opinions around and my energy is dropping. “Whatever integration means, we need to work together and get Elise involved. For that to happen, we need to keep writing in the black book. Writing to her so she has to respond. Lilly made a good start.”
“I’ll write to her about the police and what we’ve discovered about the policewoman with the glasses.”
“Thanks, Lilly. I need to wind our meeting up; my energy is slipping away.”
“If they are watching what we are doing and we can’t involve other people, does that mean we have to stop involving Scott?”
“Good thinking Luke. At least we have to point out the danger to him. He’s a grown man and can decide for himself how much involvement he wants to have. I’m afraid, they’ll try to pin the murder of Patrick on us. We haven’t seen the end of this.” My voice is fading, and so am I.
We may not have much time. The moment they catch us with a mental health admission order, we are history. The moment we are in a hospital and under drugs, we’ll have no chance to regain our freedom.
Lilly: 1 December 2015, Late Afternoon, Wright’s Homestead
It’s getting late in the afternoon. The sun has long disappeared behind a pile-up of black clouds that turn our clearing into a moody meadow. Out of breath, I’m sitting on the doorstep just in case it rains, and I need to dash into the house. Prince is panting too. I sling my arm around his neck and bury my face in his soft fur. He and I have been running through the bush for the last half hour, checking out what’s beyond our clearing and beyond the road. Just in case.
The bush gets dense pretty quickly. That’s the New Zealand wilderness for you. It looks all nice and tidy from afar, but many people underestimate the danger and get lost in the bush and some even die. Because when you’re in the thick of it, you quickly lose your bearings.
I’ve never longed for company because when you have a few dozen inside parts at your fingertips all the time, you’re never short of a conversation partner. Sometimes I would have liked to get away from the others, but that’s impossible. Wherever I go, the Tribe goes too. So, having a companion on the outside, like Prince, is super special. That goes for all of us. That’s why we love him so much. He must feel that too because he never leaves our side.
Miss Marple once said learning to give love to all of our parts, even to the ones that do nothing but whimper or do silly things that get us into trouble, will help. I get that, and it helps, although I didn’t have much faith in her scheme to begin with. So, I hug myself and imagine it’s Maddie, or whoever. But it’s not even half as good as having Prince on the outside to sling your arms around or being jumped on or licked and nudged. And to top it off, the hug from Scottie yesterday felt even a hundred times better again.
The dog has closed his eyes and his head has dropped onto his front legs. That means the coast is clear, and the Tribe is safe in the tree house. It’ll take time for them to settle, although my run will have helped to get rid of tension. The visit from the police stirred us all up. But I’m not afraid. I didn’t think for a moment I would be. I’m not letting a bunch of small-town cops scare me. All it needs is a cunning plan and an exit route. Be prepared, semper paratus, that’s my motto.
I trust Prince to tell me if there’s danger and leave worrying to Amadeus. Where are the days when he smacked a person first and asked later what’s the matter? He’s getting soft. The faint sound of a car approaching has Prince and me on full alert. We both relax when Scottie’s truck appears and stops by the house. He opens the door and looks at me with a deep frown cutting through his forehead.
“Are you okay?”
“Why?”
“You’re pale like a ghost.”
“I am? I’m not surprised. We’ve had a visit from the police. Someone killed our lawyer, and it looks like they suspect us.”
“I’m so sorry. I heard. It’s all over Port Somers. Did you go into town after I left you last night?”
“No. Why would we want him dead? He was helping us. They had Helen’s missing person report. We are convinced they’ll pin it on us and throw us in the looney bin. If that happens, we’ll never be free again.”
“Isn’t that a bit over dramatic?
“Can’t you see? They shot Patrick. Maddie recognized one of the police officers as someone who had taken part in the abuse thirty odd years ago. They are everywhere and they are ruthless. We can’t trust anybody.
Scottie dipped his head and raised his brow in an unspoken question.
“We do trust you.”
“You could ask the courts for information. If your parents died without a will, there will be information about it in the probate courts. You’d have to ask a lawyer to look into it.”
“That’s what we did. That’s why Patrick died. We can’t risk endangering another person, including you.”
“Don’t be silly. I have an old school friend in Christchurch who is a lawyer. I could ask him to look into your case. Patrick didn’t seem to have any trouble getting information. Let me make a few calls.”
“If you think that’s best?”
“I do, but first, there’s the security stuff I brought for you.”
He walked around to his truck and comes back with a bunch of boxes.
“I found these great security lights. They are solar powered and have an infra-red motion detector. Once they are triggered, it also switches on the CCTV and you can monitor the lot with your cell phone. I’ll install three at the back boundary where the trees begin, another three at the boundary line at the front. Then we have two at the back and two at the front of the house.”
“Do you think that’s necessary? If someone comes, it’ll light up the place like a Christmas tree.”
“Don’t you think it’s time to amp up the security? Your best bet is still Prince, but I would feel much more at peace if I knew you had footage of intruders on your phone. Something we can present to the police in case we needed to.”
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I like being helpful and I can’t stomach people harassing others just for fun.”
When he drives off, he leaves me with a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. It hit me how much more serious the situation sounded when I voiced it out loud compared to just thinking about it. One thing is certain, whoever is hunting us is not doing it for fun.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mikey: 3 December 2015, Morning, Wright’s Homestead
Hello, black book, this is Mikey!
What’s the number one rule for a good treasure hunt? Keeping the secret, silly! Now, that wasn’t so difficult, was it? The problem with others in the Tri
be is they are chatting all the time. Don’t ask me why. I can’t see any good reason for it. I keep my mouth shut. You have to unless you want the entire world to know where you are, what you’re doing, and where the treasure is.
Everyone goes ooh and aah and @#$*^—that’s Lilly—when something happens like the police showing up. Such a drama. I don’t do drama. I roll into a tiny, tiny ball, more like a speck of dust, so nobody can see me. They don’t even know I’m around. That’s fine with me. Whenever there is a need for hiding something or finding a hiding place for yourself, I’m the man! I’ve already figured out where to go when we have to run away from here. I could have told them that auntie’s house isn’t a good hiding place. When I found out that’s where we were going, it was too late to stop it.
Nobody in the Tribe takes me seriously. For them, I’m just a twelve-year-old kid that fancies pirates. As If. What they don’t know… I see everything. When I say everything, I mean everything. But I tell nobody. Not even Sky. Most of all, not Sky. She’s a know-it-all. But she doesn’t know everything.
I’ve seen Auntie Amanda put things away in really strange places. Some of her hiding places are too easy to find, like the jar with a screw top behind a box of washing powder. She puts her jewelry in it when she leaves the house. But the other one under the stove is super cool. It was funny to see her crawling on her tummy until she could reach under the cooker. I had to press my fist against my mouth not to laugh out loud when I saw her loosen the floorboard. Her bottom stuck in the air like the hump of a camel, wobbling to and fro. That was funny.
Her things must be important, at least to her, to go to all that trouble. Or maybe she likes to play hide and seek as I do? I found all her secret places and I like them a lot. The one under the cooker was the best one of them all. I’m sure she doesn’t mind if I put some of my treasures there too.
I wonder where she is though. To think about it, I haven’t seen her for a while. The big Ama woman, who looks like the Venus figurine people found in excavations in Austria, has been wheeling and dealing in auntie’s kitchen. She’ll be in big trouble because auntie hates people messing with her stuff.
Once, when Elise’s mum came and asked her to keep things for her, she slapped her hand with a wooden spoon because she dared to open the drawer of the kitchen cabinet. That taught her. After that she stopped strutting around and gave auntie the big envelope to “put away,” she said.
I haven’t seen her for a while. The same goes for Elise’s dad. It can’t be too difficult to find out what happened to them. Not today. Today everybody was afraid of the police people. Of course, they would have found the money. Putting it in a box under the bed was a stupid hiding place. That’s why I took it and put it in auntie’s super hiding place under the cooker. Nobody will find it in a hundred years.
I’ve been thinking of booby-trapping the hiding place, but that’s difficult. I found a few old mousetraps and put them under the stove. That’s the best I could come up with. Which is pathetic if you compare it with the super cool booby traps in Indiana Jones or the Goonies. Those were fine contraptions. Even the Kevin boy in Home Alone, which is a movie for babies, builds super cool traps.
Oh, someone is coming.
I complied with the order to write into the book about what we’re doing, but I didn’t promise to leave the page in there. I will pull it out and put it in my hiding place. And I won’t say which one.
Over and out ~ Mikey
Lilly: 3 December 2015, Morning, Wright’s Homestead
If you think for one moment, we are waiting in this house like sitting ducks until they come and lock us up again, you’re mistaken. Sky says, don’t panic. Who’s panicking? Not me. Panic befuddles your mind and you end up running around like a headless chicken.
The problem with Sky is, she is too nice. She thinks the best of people, and that is a huge mistake. I swore years ago I’d never make that mistake again; you know fool me once, shame on you kind of thing. Staying in control is the only way to go. Trusting others? Not on my watch. People can’t be trusted. Maybe Scottie, but even with him, I’ll keep my eyes open. He’s almost too good to be true. I mean, what’s he getting out of bending over backward to help us? Still, I’m going a bit soft on him. The boyfriend thing is still on my mind.
At the end of the day, the only one you can rely on is yourself. And don’t come with examples of good people like Mother Theresa, Florence Nightingale, and Albert Schweitzer. How many people have roamed the earth in the last two hundred years? Billions. And you come up with only a handful of names? Pathetic.
I remember the last time they locked us up. Caroline came out and wanted to die. And trust me, she knows how to go about it. She has scars on her forearms and a battery of pills in a box somewhere that prove she’s not kidding. That we are still alive is not a mystery. It’s because the rest of the Tribe has always woken up and taken care of her. We still have hope things would get better. We were strong enough to convince her. And Ama took care of her in time-out. That’s the only reason she stopped.
Not the bloody doctors. We had altogether six of those parading in front of us. Two of them were still students. They probed and prodded us. But the worst was listening to their pathetic comments. You have all your life ahead of you, or you have wonderful parents who care, you are ungrateful. This one was good too I understand your despair, but trust me, soon you’ll see things in a different light, or, my favorite, God forbids you to kill yourself.
God also forbids parents to have sex with their kids, to torture children, to let them starve in a dark cellar… I can’t continue or I’m risking waking up Caroline and that’s the last thing we need. Go and bore someone else with what God forbids or allows.
These are the same people who wrote in my notes: noncompliant, treatment-resistant, hostile, thought disorder, delusions, and so on. People who don’t know me at all but are convinced they know what’s best for me. How utterly ridiculous. Pathetic. I’d like to punch their face to make them wake up, but they never will. Somehow with getting a medical degree, people seem to get a certificate of superiority and the permission to ignore other opinions, especially when those opinions come from patients.
I rang the police this morning and asked them when we’re getting our van back. They came yesterday and took it. They called it borrowing it for forensic tests and assured Elise they’d bring it back the same day. Which they didn’t. Surprise, surprise. The lady on the phone told me they’re on the way to us. But it didn’t sound like they’ll bring the van. It sounded like they’ll come to fetch us for further questioning.
Whatever this is about, we are not waiting for them to lock us up again. Call me paranoid, but trust me, I have all the reasons in the world to be suspicious. We are going to run. Ama put the tree house under lockdown. All the kids are in their rooms. It’s Luke, Amadeus, Sky, and me securing the getaway.
“I think you are overreacting. What if they have only a few more questions?” Sky, as always, pleads for moderation and being sensible. She hates running away. We all do but running has been the story of our life. The opponent always was too strong. What kid has a chance against adults who want to do them harm? You tell me.
“Let’s compromise and use our hiding place in the tree behind the house. We can watch the police and then decide.” Luke’s suggestion was not at all what I would have liked to do, but it was a compromise. “No bright clothes, though, or they’ll discover us.”
I’d rather go deeper into the forest but being close and perhaps overhearing what people say could have its advantages. We packed our bag with clothes and food and tied Prince up in the laundry. Although I hate putting Prince on the chain, we can’t risk him revealing our hiding place.
I don’t know how old the tree behind the house is. It’s a giant. When we were staying with auntie Amanda, we were always climbing up the trunk like little monkeys, quick and without hesitation. That’s not how it is anymore. Luke must have expected it would be more difficult because he b
rings ropes along. Clever boy.
It still took a hell of a time to get us up high enough to feel safe. You know you’re safe when you can’t see anymore what happens down on the ground because the foliage is getting in the way. We found the little makeshift platform Luke built way back when we were children. Although now, over thirty years later, I’m very skeptical about its trustworthiness.
I hope we don’t have to stay up here for long because it’s not comfortable. The harsh bark is poking through my trousers. By the end of this hideout, my backside will look like a raw slab of steak.
We have little time to spare because the sounds of cars coming our way disrupt the silence. Today they’re coming with three cars. Who do they think we are? An army of Al-Qaeda trying to take on the NZ government? Altogether eight police officers step out of the cars, including Maddie’s female officer. This time they brought two people in white coats along. I can smell the hospital disinfectant on them from up here.
“The two people in civil clothes are doctors, I swear. They’re coming to get us.”
“You’re right.” I’m glad, Sky finally agrees with me.
The group knocks at the door and spreads out around the house when nobody answers. In the end, they break the back door open and roam through the house. Prince is barking at them inside the house. Good old Prince, defending his home against the intruders. It doesn’t take long, and the group comes out again.
“She’s gone. Dammit, I thought we had it all in the can.”
“She can’t have gotten far without a vehicle.”
“I urge you to do everything you can to find her. We have her medical file from Auckland. That woman is as crazy as a mud hen, a danger to herself and others. Who knows what she’s capable of in her grief about her husband’s death?” The bold guy in civilian clothes almost trips over his high-pitched voice.
Girl From the Tree House Page 19