Dawn of Eve

by MJ Howson

  “I started to read your diary. Just the beginning about Anna’s birthday.” Dawn sipped her hot tea briefly and then picked up the book and opened it. “Why so many missing pages?” She flipped through until she got to where she’d left off earlier. Dawn read a bit of it to herself and frowned. “This looks like it’s another birthday, from May 2012–the same year as Anna’s.”

  Dawn sighed and glanced up at the ceiling. The red ribbons of the nightlight danced across the dim room as the lightning outside continued to ignite the dark sky. The legs of the chair creaked as Dawn rocked back and forth. She leaned closer to Eve’s ear and said, “Why don’t we read it together?”

  Seventeen

  Charles

  May 7, 2012

  Eve looked across the room at Charles, flopped in his lumpy bed. The pudgy Chinese-American appeared ready to fall asleep, his arms clutching the square feather-stuffed pale-blue pillow he’d brought with him from home. The other four kids in the room were flopped in or near their beds, having separate conversations. The solid stone walls and vaulted ceiling caused their voices to softly echo. The dim light from the wood and iron chandelier cast a dull orange glow throughout the space.

  Outside, the chilly sixty-degree evening air did little to warm the bedroom. Springtime in the Berkshires typically swung between the fifties and seventies. The furnace had been turned off at the start of the month, forcing the children to use extra layers of blankets to keep warm at night.

  For someone who’d just consumed half his birthday cake, Charles looked ready to fall asleep. Then again, Eve remembered that Charles had the energy of a tired snail.

  Poor Tina desperately tried to impress Billy. Ever since Annabelle had left, Tina’s flirtations with Billy knew no bounds. Billy relished the attention. It was obvious to everyone but Tina that Billy had no real interest in her. All the other kids assumed it to be a game with no end.

  Suzie sat infatuated with her most prized possession brought from home–a pink handheld mirror. She smiled as she admired her twin puffs, secured in place with a pair of coral-colored rhinestone-encrusted barrettes. Her African-American mom took great pride in styling her daughter’s hair. Suzie always insisted her hair look fashionable. Hugo had somehow managed to smuggle another piece of cake back to his bed. The heavyset Mexican was busy devouring the sugary confection, covering his lips with blue frosting.

  Eve closed her diary and tucked it beneath her pillow. She crossed the room and sat on the corner of Charles’s bed. The blue flannel blanket masked the blue frosting Charles had smeared on it when he climbed beneath the sheets earlier. Eve couldn’t help but wonder if all boys were this messy or just the three in this room. At least the spilled food made his bed smell sweet.

  “Hey,” Eve said.

  “Hey,” Charles replied. He didn’t bother to look at Eve and rolled to his side, pulling his pillow closer. Food stains covered the pillowcase. He yawned and tugged the natty flannel blanket closer to his neck. “How’s the diary coming?”

  “Fine.” Eve looked at Anna’s empty bed. The blankets and sheets had been stripped away the night Anna had been taken by Caretaker. The thin-stripped mattress was bare, its lumps and stains exposed for all to see. “I wonder why we haven’t heard from her.”

  “Who?”

  “Anna.”

  Charles groaned as he pulled himself upright. He looked over at the empty bed and said, “Was she supposed to contact us?”

  “Well, no. We never knew she was leaving.”

  “I don’t miss her. She only cared about one thing.” Charles nodded toward Billy, now pretending to be interested in Tina’s blabbering. “Him.”

  “Whatever. It’s been four months since Anna left.”

  Charles noticed a chunk of frosting on the blanket not far from his fingers. He snatched it and shoved it into his mouth. Charles sighed and said, “At least the cake was good.”

  Eve frowned, disappointed that Charles wasn’t concerned about Anna. She decided to change the subject and asked, “But what was with that party?”

  “What? I had fun.”

  “No parents. Again. Just like Anna’s birthday.”

  “I haven’t seen my parents all day.” Charles lowered his head and sighed. “I’m thirteen now. How come they weren’t there?” Charles ran his fingers through the folds of his blanket. He found another chunk of crumbled cake and gingerly tossed it into his mouth. “They didn’t even go on the hike.”

  Earlier that day, Caretaker had led all the children on a hike in the surrounding woods. The nearby mountains were filled with lakes, rivers, and endless paths to explore. Even without their parents, the kids had managed to have a bit of fun. Most of them, anyway. Hugo had brought along a bag of PEZ candies but dropped it into a muddy puddle. Caretaker made him leave it for the animals to scavenge. The children had all joked about sugar-filled squirrels one day storming the compound.

  Eve grinned as she recalled their adventure outside. Her eyes widened, and she said, “I wonder when the squirrels will come for us.”

  “Right?” Charles chuckled briefly. His smile quickly faded. “Didn’t you see your parents when we got back?”

  “Just my mom.” Eve nodded and looked over at the locked wooden door. “She seemed weird. I asked her if you were leaving tonight like Anna did. Before she could answer, Caretaker came over, and my mom walked away.”

  The lock on the door snapped loudly, causing everyone to jump. The heavy wooden door swung open, the old hinges creaking in protest. Eve and Tina quickly scurried back to their beds.

  Caretaker entered the room, carrying a wooden tray with a small bowl of pills and six glasses of water. The pills rattled gently against the glass bowl’s edges. She wore her usual dark gray gown, similar in style to what the children wore. Her long blonde hair remained tucked beneath a gray bonnet. Caretaker smiled as she used her foot to close the door behind her.

  “How’s everyone tonight?” Caretaker asked. A few of the kids gave a mumbled response. “I hope you enjoyed the cake. That was my first time making blueberry filling.”

  Caretaker walked to Hugo’s bed and gave him a glass of water and one of the small white pills from the bowl. Hugo downed the pill and then opened his mouth to show her he’d swallowed it. She smiled and said, “Good boy.”

  Caretaker went from bed to bed, giving each child a glass of water and a pill. When she got to Eve’s bed, Eve took the last pill from the bowl and angrily stared at the tablet. Caretaker asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Where’s Anna?” Eve replied. Her question came across almost like a demand.

  “She’s gone. She left on her birthday. Remember?”

  “But why did she go?” Eve glared at Caretaker. The staring contest lasted several seconds. Eve looked around at the other children in their beds. They all seemed somewhat surprised by Eve’s defiance. “Why haven’t we heard from her?”

  “She had to leave. I’ve told you that many times. Anna’s fine.” Caretaker looked at the other children and smiled. “I can try and reach out to her. Would you like that?”

  “Yes,” Eve said. She kept her eyes locked on Caretaker’s, wondering if she could believe what she was saying. Slowly Eve felt her doubt and tension uncoil. “I would.”

  “Consider it a promise.” Caretaker handed Eve her glass of water. “Now, take your vitamin.”

  Eve stared at the small white pill and wondered why they had to take these every single night. Back home, she took a vitamin every day, but that was always with breakfast. She sighed and popped the pill in her mouth, washing it down with the water.

  Caretaker nodded and ruffled Eve’s curly hair. She walked over to Charles’s bed and placed the tray on the rickety nightstand. She then sat on the bed, handing Charles the last glass of water.

  “Did you enjoy the cake?” Caretaker asked.

  “I ate, like, half of it.” Charles smiled, displaying a set of blue-stained teeth. He took a sip of water and followed it with a burp. “It was real
ly good.”

  “I’m so glad I made you proud. Each of you is so special to me.”

  Charles looked at the empty bowl and then at Caretaker.

  “No more vitamins for you, Charles. You’re all grown up.”

  “What?” Tina flung her blankets away and sat upright. “You did the same to Anna! I want to be all grown up! I don’t want to have to take vitamins!”

  “I’m sorry, Tina,” Caretaker replied. “It’s not your time.”

  “How come my parents weren’t at the party?” Charles asked, ignoring the drama coming from Tina. “Where are they?”

  “I told you earlier, the birthday party was only for you kids.”

  Caretaker stood up, took Charles’s half-empty glass from his hand, and placed it on the tray.

  “Am . . . am I leaving tonight?” Charles asked.

  Caretaker smiled but did not answer him. She made her way around the room, collecting everyone’s glasses. Once she got to the door, she opened it and reached for the light switch. Caretaker turned off the overhead chandelier, plunging the room into darkness. She said, “Good night, children.”

  The door closed with a thump, followed by the snapping of the lock. A cold dark silence filled the room. Eve stared at the door, allowing her eyes to adjust to the light spilling beneath the one-inch gap at its base. Charles rolled over and tossed the blanket over his head.

  Eve ran to the door and placed her ear against the wooden slats. She listened to the clumping footsteps as Caretaker walked away. Eve returned to her bed and retrieved her leather-bound diary from beneath her pillow. She opened the book to where she’d left off. Eve hurried to the doorway and sprawled face-down across the chilly cobblestone floor. The light seeping into the room was bright enough for her to see the pages. She began to write what just happened.

  Once she finished, she went back to her bed and tucked the diary beneath her pillow. When Eve awoke the next morning, she looked over at Charles’s bed. It had been stripped bare and now matched Anna’s.

  Later that morning, after a breakfast of stale cereal, Eve decided to confront her mom about last night. Eve’s mom kept her long copper hair tucked in a bun, similar to Caretaker’s style. Sometimes, when walking behind the two of them, Eve found it hard to tell them apart. Their height, robes, and gait were like mirror images.

  Eve followed her mother out of the cafeteria, keeping a few feet back. She kept looking over her shoulder to be sure they were alone. Her mother walked past the intersection with the main hallway. Eve stopped. Children weren’t allowed in that part of the complex. Eve watched her mother walk down the long hallway and then turn the corner. She quickly raced after her.

  Eve’s heart raced as she hurried through the corridors. She soon came upon her mother unlocking an iron gate. Eve and a few of the others had stumbled upon this place a few times before and had been chastised severely for sneaking around the complex where they weren’t allowed.

  The gate’s bars, spread six inches apart, didn’t reach completely to the floor and ceiling. Rust covered the pointed ends of the black painted gate. Eve once tried to slide beneath the door but ended up getting stuck. A skeleton key lock and winged door handle secured the doorway.

  “Mom,” Eve said.

  “What are you doing here?” Eve’s mother spun around, looking shocked. “If Father John sees you–”

  “Did they really go home?” Eve glanced back over her shoulder to confirm they were alone. “First Anna. Now Charles.”

  “They’re with their parents, Eve.” Her mother shook her head and looked away as she closed the gate behind her daughter. “Your time will come.”

  “When?” Eve frowned and clenched her fists. “Do I have to wait for my birthday? Why?”

  “Those are the rules. You know what happens if you break them.”

  “Bad kids must be punished.”

  “Trust Caretaker. Her, Father John, and Mother Martha know what’s best for you. For all of us.”

  Eve frowned as her mother turned and walked away.

  ∞∞∞

  Dawn found herself once again, deep within a dream. She was running down another seemingly endless hallway, her red gown flowing behind her. The arched walls were now squared off and much darker. An orange light bathed everything in a soft amber glow. Up ahead, a red-headed girl stood in front of an open iron gate. She smiled, turned, and ran away.

  “Stop!” Dawn cried out as she ran through the doorway. The rough cobblestone floor felt harsh against her bare feet. She reached for the child, her bright red nails becoming sharper the closer she got. “Please, stop!”

  Dawn gasped for air as she chased after the girl. The corridor zigged and zagged endlessly. Soon, a dark wooden door awaited ominously at the end of the hallway. The child stopped, opened the door, and looked back at Dawn, causing Dawn to stumble to a halt and fall to her knees. The girl’s piercing blue eyes were mesmerizing. The two stared at one another. All Dawn could hear was the pounding of her heart echoing in her head.

  “Don’t . . . don’t leave me,” Dawn said. “Please!”

  The girl smiled, turned, and ran inside, slamming the door behind her. Dawn began to run again. She felt the bottom of her feet being cut open from the coarse flooring. The faster she ran, the further the doorway seemed to drift away. Suddenly a voice in the darkness cried out, “Mom! No!”

  Dawn screamed herself awake. She looked around her bedroom in bewilderment. The time projected on the ceiling read 11:55 p.m. Dawn flicked on the nearby lamp and turned to Eve beside her. The doll was flat on its back, the eyes open, staring at the ceiling. Dawn rolled the doll toward her and asked, “I know it was you. You’re in my dreams now. Why? Speak to me, Eve! Please?”

  Eighteen

  Silence

  Dr. Cole scratched his beard as he flipped through past session notes spread across his desktop. Although he felt Dawn was beginning to make progress, he was also frustrated by some recent contradictions. The top of his notepad read Easton-D 10/4/19 #9. He glanced over his glasses and smiled at Dawn.

  “Okay, that’s enough about your childhood for today,” Dr. Cole said. As much as he wanted Dawn to talk about her dad’s death, he knew she still wasn’t ready. He leaned back in his chair, causing the hinges to squeak. “How are things with Jacob?”

  The question brought a smile to Dawn’s face. One that was quickly followed by a frown. A three-carat sapphire ring from her mother’s zodiac collection appeared oversized on Dawn’s slender finger. She’d been fiddling with the clunky gold band throughout the entire session. Dawn reached for the ring and began to once again nervously twist it back and forth.

  “To be honest, he’s been distant,” Dawn said. “I’m not–”

  The doctor’s desk faintly vibrated, causing the wooden Trust plaque to buzz. Dr. Cole sighed and opened the top drawer. His red-cased cell phone was flashing a notification. He canceled it, looked up at Dawn, and said, “Sorry. You were saying?”

  “I’m not sure what’s going on. He’s always making excuses not to see me.”

  “How so?”

  “It’s his work.”

  Dr. Cole dampened his fingertip and flipped through his notes again. Although Dawn often stressed the need to talk about her boyfriend, they’d yet to do any sort of deep-dive about him. Most of his notes on Jacob centered around Dawn’s perception of him.

  “He bartends?” Dr. Cole asked.

  “Yes.” Dawn leaned forward and clasped her fingers anxiously. “But he’s also a personal trainer. He’s got clients everywhere.”

  “That sounds like it could make for a hectic schedule.”

  “It does. He’s in very high demand.” Dawn immediately went back to playing with her ring. “I told you he’s a former model, right? Let me get his picture for you.” Dawn dove into her bag and began rummaging through the contents looking for her phone.

  “Has his schedule always been this busy?” Dr. Cole asked. “Or did it change after the miscarriage?”


  Dawn stopped searching through her bag. She looked at the doctor and opened her mouth to speak but said nothing. Dawn slowly lowered her bag to the floor, looked out the window, and furrowed her brow. As she tapped her finger to her lips, she said, “That’s a good question. I . . . I don’t know. It seems like he’s busier than usual.”

  “Could it be that you need him more these days, and therefore he feels more distant?”

  “Maybe.” Dawn returned to twisting the sapphire ring back and forth. “Maybe not.” Dawn leaned forward and cautiously bit her lower lip. “If you want to know the truth, I think he was relieved when I lost the baby.”

  “Relieved?” Dr. Cole frowned and drummed his fingers across his belly. “Why would you say that?”

  “Jacob, he . . . he never wanted kids. That’s why I think he’s pulled back.”

  “Never wanted kids?” Dr. Cole tried not to express the frustration he suddenly felt. “I don’t remember us discussing that. I remember you telling me Jacob was having second thoughts about having kids. Now you’re saying he never wanted them?”

  “Well . . . .” Dawn glanced up at the ceiling, her pale cheeks becoming slightly flush. She sighed, slumped her shoulders, and lowered her head. “I just assumed he’d come around.”

  Dr. Cole glanced at the folder resting on his desk. He’d have to add this contradiction to the others. He looked at Dawn and said, “You told me that after your fourth miscarriage, you continued with your fertility drugs. Correct?”

  “For a bit.” Dawn’s eyes began to scan the room. “Sometimes, I guess. On and off, maybe.”

  “Were on them when you got pregnant with Jacob?”

  “Well, I . . . I . . . . Yes.”

  “I . . . I don’t remember you telling me that. I thought . . . .” Dr. Cole slid his fingers beneath his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “If Jacob never wanted kids, why were you trying to get pregnant with him?”