The Carolyn Chronicles, Volume 1

by Derek Ciccone

  EJ gathered her clothes and said, “I’ll give you some privacy to do your thing.”

  “You can stay if you want.”

  She held up her wet clothes. “I’m going to dry these ... and cook us some lunch. When you feel better, we’ll get some warm soup into your belly.”

  Carolyn climbed into the bathtub and pleasantly soaked in the ice water. A nice smell originated from the other room, replacing the musty aroma of the apartment. She could also hear EJ singing a fun song—The sun’ll come out tomorrow.

  When she started to get “prune skin,” Carolyn got out. She wrapped herself in a towel and made her way out of the bathroom. EJ was at the stove, stirring the soup. She turned and smiled at her. “You feeling better? You certainly look much better.”

  Carolyn nodded, and EJ tossed her clothes to her. They were warm and fluffy like when her mom used to do the laundry. “Did you put them in the dryer?”

  EJ laughed. “Dryer? We’re lucky this place has electricity. I stuck them in the oven.”

  “And cooked them like a pie?”

  “Something like that. But don’t go trying that at home and blaming me for burning your house down.”

  Carolyn towel-dried her wet hair, which had grown back since her attempt to cut it off last summer, and changed back into her T-shirt and jeans. She took a seat at a small kitchen table, and EJ served her a bowl of soup. One spoonful and she was sold. “This is like the same chicken soup my mom used to make. You make chicken soup just like my mom.”

  EJ laughed as she sat across the table from Carolyn. “I think it’s the other way around—I’ll bet your mom made her chicken soup just like me. I’m much older than she was.”

  All Carolyn cared about was that, “It sure hits the spot.”

  “Now how about telling me what’s going on?” EJ asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You sneaked out of school, you came to New York all by yourself, and the police are after you. Something’s going on.”

  Over slurping sips of soup, Carolyn told her the story, the unabridged version. About needing to get to Ryan, the juice-box fake pee, meeting Lilith, water on the rocks, running away from the police, “And I was sure lucky to bump into you, EJ.”

  “I’m not so sure it was luck,” she said with a grin.

  Carolyn expanded the story to her entire life, and EJ tried to make sense of it, “So your mother died, your father is moving for a job, Lindsey seems to be in limbo, while Billy and Dana are busy getting married—but maybe too busy, since they’re supposed to be watching you?”

  Carolyn nodded between spoonfuls. “That pretty much sums it up.”

  “Well, it sounds like you’re a very lucky girl then.”

  Carolyn stopped, spoon in mid-raise. “Are you sure you heard what I told you? Maybe I said it wrong.”

  “No, I totally understand … you’re surrounded by all these people who care for you, and love you, and will do anything to keep you safe. That sure sounds lucky to me.”

  She thought about it. “I guess you could be right.”

  EJ was staring at her, smiling, making her uneasy. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  She shook herself out of her trance. “I’m sorry—it’s just that you remind me so much of my youngest daughter. So independent and determined. Nothing would ever stop her from getting what she wanted when she put her mind to it.”

  “You have a daughter?” Carolyn asked.

  “You sound surprised.”

  “It’s just that you look more like a grandma than a mom.”

  She laughed. “You have to be one to become the other. I’m a grandmother and a mother.”

  Carolyn briefly contemplated this. “Does your daughter live with you? The one that I remind you of.”

  Her face saddened, accentuating the frown lines on her forehead. “Unfortunately her life was cut short. But I do see my older daughter quite a bit.”

  “What’s she like?”

  “Sometimes I wish she was more like my youngest. She’s had her heart broken really bad, so she can be afraid of happiness. Whenever she’s put her heart on the line it’s gotten trampled. I worry that she’s going to run from the best thing that’s ever happened to her because she’s scared of getting hurt again.”

  Sirens blared outside the window, and Carolyn practically jumped out of her seat. EJ mentioned, “I think you left out the part why the police are after you.”

  Carolyn looked down at her soup. “I took some things from my Aunt Dana. Her wallet and train pass.”

  “You mean you stole them.”

  “If you want to put it that way.”

  “Call it mother’s intuition, but I’d bet that your Aunt Dana will be so happy to have found you safe and sound that she will have forgotten all about what you took. I also think that she and Billy … and your dad … will be very proud that you risked your life to help a friend.”

  Carolyn turned nervous. “Whoa—I’m risking my life? You mean, like I could die?”

  “A little girl all alone in a big city? Who knows whom you might come across. There are a lot of bad people in this world. Remember what we spoke about—about not talking to strangers?”

  “But you’re a stranger and you were really nice. And made me soup, and made my clothes warm, just like my mom did.”

  “I’m not sure the police would see it that way.”

  “The police are after me because I talked to strangers?”

  “In a good way, I think.”

  “How could the police be after me in a good way? That makes no sense.”

  “Because they’re worried about these strangers you might meet and what they might do to you … bad things … so they’re trying to get to you first, to bring you home safe.”

  Carolyn blew out a theatrical breath. “Well, that’s a relief. Then maybe we should call them and tell them I’m here.”

  EJ rose off her seat and made her way to the stove. She carried the entire pot back with her, and re-filled their bowls. “How about we have some more soup first.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Carolyn slurped more soup, a smile on her face.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve made soup for someone. So I’m really glad you’re enjoying it, Carolyn.”

  “I’m really glad I’m enjoying it too.”

  “But I’ll bet it’s not as good as your mom’s. You know why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because she made it for you, and that’s special.”

  Carolyn smiled.

  “Tell me about her … your mom.”

  “She was the nicest, best person ever, and she smelled like flowers.”

  “That is some endorsement. Sounds like you miss her.”

  She nodded sadly. “My Aunt Dana says she sometimes talks to her mom—she calls her Mrs. B—even though she’s dead. She taught me how to do it with my mom yesterday, but I’m not very good at it yet. I told her I could talk to her, but I really couldn’t.”

  EJ smiled. “I’m sure you’ll talk to your mother again one day. What would you tell her if you got to speak to her again?”

  “Probably about my school, and my new dog, Nails, and my friend Ryan.” She paused for a moment, again looking down at her soup, and said, “And that I’m sorry.”

  EJ showed a look of concern. “What are you sorry for?”

  “I’m kinda the reason she died.”

  “How so?”

  “This guy, Kerry Rutherford, everybody thought he was a good guy, but he was really a dragon, and he was going to shoot me with a gun, but he shot my mom instead.”

  EJ continued her concern. “Have you been carrying that around with you the whole time?”

  She shrugged.

  “Carolyn—that is the furthest thing from your fault. We mothers, we only care about one thing, and that’s keeping our babies safe. And she’d step in front of that bullet for you a million times, as I would for my children. And one day when you’re a mother, you might
do the same for yours.”

  “My friend Little Hawk says she got shot because I’m a jinx. And it proves it, because Ryan got sick when he came to visit me.”

  “First of all, this Little Hawk fellow is far from being your friend.”

  “He used to put sand in my eyes when we played in the sandbox.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me one bit. But on the other hand, Ryan sounds like he’s a really good friend to you.”

  “I’m gonna to marry him one day,” her face turned sad, and she added the disclaimer, “but that’s only if he lives.”

  EJ flashed a comforting look. “I have a feeling that your friend Ryan is going to be just fine.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Sometimes I just know things.”

  “Hey—me too.”

  More sirens blared outside the window. “I’m done with my soup, so maybe we should tell the police I’m here now ... so they can protect me from strangers.”

  EJ got off her seat like she wasn’t listening and headed toward to window. “Look, Carolyn—it stopped raining. And the sun is out.”

  Carolyn joined her at the windowsill, and looked down two stories at the busy New York street. “It’s like that song you were singing.”

  “You want to sing with me?”

  “I’m a really good singer.”

  So they did—the sun’ll come out tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there’ll be sun …

  When they finished Carolyn pointed at the floor, where the sunlight was now streaming through. “Look—you can see shadows on the floor.”

  “When my daughter was young we used to run around chasing our shadows.”

  “The shadow game? It’s my favorite!”

  They began chasing each other’s shadows around the kitchen, giggling the entire time. Until EJ grew tired and took a seat at the kitchen table, out of breath and clutching her chest. “I guess I’m not getting any younger.”

  Carolyn took the seat beside her. “Me either.”

  EJ smiled at her, holding it for a long moment. She finished catching her breath and then rose to her feet. She put on her raincoat and hat. “I have to go out for a few minutes to do a couple of errands. Can you sit tight while I’m out, Carolyn? I shouldn’t be long.”

  “Can we play when you get back?”

  “I promise that whenever we see each other we will play and laugh.”

  “I’m really glad I ran into you in the train station, EJ.”

  She flashed one last smile at the girl and slipped out the door.

  Chapter 56

  Working off an anonymous tip, the police rushed into the apartment, guns blazing.

  Carolyn Whitcomb stood on a stool at the kitchen sink, casually washing dishes. Upon seeing the police, her reaction was more of wonderment than fear.

  The police swept through the rest of the apartment and found it empty—Carolyn was alone. She talked of a woman named EJ who had taken her in and made her soup, but she had left to perform “errands.” And any possible DNA link to the woman went away when Carolyn washed the pot, along with the bowls and spoons from their supposed meal.

  They checked with neighbors, but they hadn’t heard or seen anyone come in or out, and this wasn’t exactly the type of place with high-level security cameras. The apartment itself had been abandoned a few months back, and the building owner still hadn’t filled the vacancy. When contacted at his home in New Jersey, he was surprised that anyone had been living in the apartment and suggested a theory that it might have been a homeless woman known to the area. But once again, the neighbors hadn’t noticed anyone unusual around the building in recent weeks, and were unaware of what woman he might be speaking of.

  There was nothing special about the apartment. It was a four-story “tenant type” building with ten units—one bedroom, one bath— located on 138th Street in a high-crime neighborhood in East Harlem. It was rundown, but Rizzo said he’d seen a lot worse, and thought she was lucky that she didn’t stumble into one of the more dangerous housing projects in the area.

  Chuck had a different theory. Carolyn has an overactive imagination, and when things get stressful, as they did when she found herself alone in Grand Central, her imagination comes to life in her mind. So his guess was that she made up this EJ—perhaps an amalgam of different people she’d met along her journey, including the woman on the train, Lilith—and that she didn’t really exist.

  But that still didn’t explain how a six-year-old found her way to 138th Street, and somehow was able to seek shelter in an abandoned apartment. The police had interrogated the cab driver, but all he said was that she handed him an address and told him that a friend named EJ had given it to her. She also provided him a $100 bill for the ride, which Dana didn’t think was hers, and was more than Lilith Curtain claimed to have given her. Where did she get that?

  The driver claimed to have dropped Carolyn off and then took off. He didn’t wait to see where she went, mentioning that he was a businessman not a babysitter. And while none of the neighbors witnessed Carolyn go into the apartment, or knew anything about the mysterious EJ—the only description Carolyn gave was that she looked “kinda like Aunt Dana,” but with gray hair and wore a yellow raincoat—yet somebody had to make that call to alert the police. Was it the woman herself? A neighbor? The caller didn’t leave a name and the number was untraceable.

  Rizzo spoke with Carolyn for over an hour and she stuck to her story. She was going to visit Ryan in Boston, planning to take the Amtrak from Penn Station, just as they had when she traveled to Daniel’s House back in February.

  But when she saw her face on television, and heard that the police were after her, she ran away from Lilith and tried to hide, thinking that the police were going to send her to jail and make her eat stale bread for stealing her aunt’s wallet and train pass.

  “But a good thing I ran into EJ. She was a life saver.”

  Or a predator, who had conned Carolyn into going with her. Or a drug addict, who abandoned Carolyn to seek out her next fix. And maybe she did return from her “errands,” only to find that the police had the place surrounded, so she took off. It was as good of a theory as any. The most likely being that she was a lonely old lady who was suffering from dementia. The possibilities were endless, and some of them were downright terrifying.

  The police said they would keep looking, but Billy got the feeling that they would never find this woman. He also doubted it would be a high priority for them, especially when Carolyn turned up unharmed.

  Billy trusted Carolyn’s ability to differentiate between the dragons and the fireflies—her terms for the good and the bad people—so he was leaning toward believing the mystery woman was more friend than foe. Whether she really existed was another story.

  There would be no lectures or punishments when they returned home to New Canaan. Chuck was right, in that they needed to be harder on her when she stepped out of line, but tonight wasn’t the time for that. This night was about being thankful and eating pizza.

  Carolyn was apologetic to her father for making him miss out on his flight. And even more so to Dana for taking her items without permission. And she thanked Billy for taking care of Nails when, something had happened to her, as she’d hinted at … and he hadn’t picked up on it. Just like her T-shirt this morning was a clue as to what she had planned.

  Apologies aside, he got the feeling that she would do it again. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. He’d come across those who treated loyalty as if it were a disposable diaper, which made her deep-seeded loyalties seem all the more noble. But he doubted Chuck saw it that way, and he got their feeling that if she ever pulled a stunt like that again she wouldn’t be allowed to leave the house until she was thirty.

  Chuck fell into bed, as exhausted as he’d ever been. This day sure didn’t go as planned. His first day on the job would have to wait until tomorrow.

  Lindsey entered the room and snuggled up next to him. “I didn’t think I�
��d be seeing you so soon. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”

  He pulled her up on top of him. “It’s always good when I see you … actually more than good.”

  She positioned herself, straddling him, so that she was looking him directly in the eyes. She smiled. “So this is what you meant when you said I have no idea what I’m getting myself into.”

  He smiled back. “This is just the tip of the iceberg.”

  “At least she didn’t bite off her tongue this time. Progress?”

  His expression grew troubled. “How the hell does a six-year-old girl make her way to New York, and into some abandoned apartment in a seedy neighborhood?”

  But he knew the answer—Carolyn was far from your average six-year-old. And she would always keep them on the edge of their seats, pushing the limits, wherever they take her.

  “Do you think this EJ is real?” Lindsey asked.

  He shook his head with a sigh. “I have no idea.”

  And neither of them wanted to think about the what if. According to Carolyn, the woman knew a lot about her for just being a stranger. What if she was following her? What if this was a planned abduction that was luckily foiled by the call to the police? It’s not like it hasn’t happened before to her—thoughts of Operation Anesthesia were dancing in his head. It could also mean that she’d still be out there, ready to strike again.

  “I don’t want to think about it tonight.”

  “You have an early flight tomorrow—you better get some rest.”

  “I don’t want to think about tomorrow either. I just want to live in the right now.”

  Their lips came together and it quickly turned heavy. She sat up, still straddling him, and pulled her tank top over her head … then removed her bra. Chuck cupped her breasts as they kissed. She ran her hands over his wide shoulders.

  There would be no time for slow—they were running out of sand in their hourglass. Lindsey practically ripped the buttons off of Chuck’s shirt and then they worked together to get his pants off in speedy fashion.