“I will begin intense therapy because my back and neck get thrown out every time I have a convulsion, which is entirely different from a seizure,” I say, absentmindedly rubbing my neck.
“Maia, I know that you have told me previously that you get seizures often but you have never actually told me when you had one for the first time. Let me order the coffees, and you’re going tell to me all about it, and I’m going to diagnose you.”
Jean
I slide my speech out of a folder and take a sip of coffee from my keep cup. I’ve got used to calling them keep cups, but that’s not right these days, since disposable, plastic cups do not exist any more.
I wonder why Amy is taking so long to come back. The conference organisers were running low on staff, a lot of workers couldn’t make it here today, which sadly happens increasingly these days. People just can’t cope with travelling in this heat. So I sent Amy, who works as my assistant, out to help. I do wonder if she will run into Maia Land out there.
I just discovered yesterday that Maia was a speaker at this conference; the surname gave her away immediately. I started scheming as soon as I heard this because, even after all these years, part of my crafty, revengeful nature has never left me. That is where my thoughts start and end though, because I no longer carry out my plans. Schemes sometimes form in my mind, but that is not who I am any longer.
That day, many years ago at the pool, was the pivotal moment where I became a new person. As soon as I had struck Carlana on the head and run, I regretted what I had done. I knew that I had not hit her hard, but she fell into the water and in my mind, more than likely drowned. For hours afterwards, I wished I had stopped to check on her, help her.
I had come back home to find Amy waiting for me in Beth’s unit, but I couldn’t focus on Beth and Amy jabbering frantically about how they had tried to find me, because my mind had been visualising Carlana floating, weightless, in the pool. Fortunately, Amy and Beth were enjoying each other’s company too much to notice my lack of attention.
I anticipated the police knocking on my door at any moment, because they had just discovered Carlana’s body in the water. Hours after I returned home I considered going back to the water park, to see if the police had set up a crime scene. But days later, when I hadn’t been arrested, my anxiety only worsened. I thought that maybe Carlana had died and the police were taking their time investigating who had killed her. I was still sure they would apprehend me eventually.
Then, when I couldn’t control my curiosity and guilt any longer, I went to her house to hide behind the familiar hedge. I had expected to see a worried-looking husband pacing in and out of the house, which was missing a mother.
But instead, I arrived at a house surrounded by police tape. My heart stopped. I was sure, then, that was where the police had started their investigation. And because I had been there, they would have had my fingerprints on the spoon I had used to eat soup. I raced back to the library, the one in Butterfield, and requested all the recent newspapers. I had been avoiding all newspapers and television in case I saw myself there on the screen or in print. I figured I would find out from someone in my apartment complex if the police wanted me.
The first newspaper article was on the front page.
Woman’s Body Found In Butter-River Lagoon. Director Of Recycling Plant Arrested For Murder.
I let go of the breath I felt I had been holding since I’d hit Carlana on the head.
The article implied that the police thought Evan had killed Carlana. Though, even when I read the article for the twentieth time, I didn’t understand why Carlana’s body was found in a lagoon. I had thought the reporters really meant to write the police discovered her in a swimming pool.
A few weeks later, I read that the body in the lagoon was not Carlana, but her assistant, Bettina. The relief I felt from that second onwards was intense. Truthfully, I wasn’t surprised that Evan had turned out to be a murderer. It was a feeling I had had about him when I was sitting in front of him that day at the table. Later, there was one inconvenience. During the investigation, the police discovered that Beth had been messaging Evan around the time of the murder.
The police had taken Beth in for questioning and asked her to explain the relevance of the messages they found on Evan’s phone, and why Evan had replied to her via Instagram.
Beth had been truthful, telling the police that she had been worried about her neighbour that day, and had put out a message to anyone that might have seen her. The police took me in for questioning and asked me what I was doing at Carlana and Evan’s house on that fateful day.
It was then that I saw Carlana, very much alive, in the hallway of the police station.
I will never know what Carlana told the police that day, but the police decided not to question me any further. I do know that the camera in the hall where Carlana, Bettina and I had been, on the day Carlana’s assistant disappeared, hadn’t been recording the event – and this probably saved me from more interrogation.
In the end, I was thrilled that I was given another chance, an opportunity to rid myself of all the negativity. I focused on myself and wanted to absolve myself. I started with Amy. I got angry at her, outraged. Standing next to that pool, Carlana had told me she had seen Amy sneak out to meet a boy behind our house. It didn’t take much for Amy to admit that the boy was Matt. She had been dating him and helping him out in his business long before we moved into the housing estate.
All that time I had been blaming myself, believing I had changed Amy’s path in life, while she had altered it herself long before. I told Amy that I would no longer be responsible for her mistakes or her happiness. I told her she was on her own. Of course, she could always count on my support, but no longer at my expense. I explained to her she needed to work out her own path in her life, she could either leave or stay with me, but ultimately I would not be responsible for her happiness. It has been one of the best decisions I have made in my life. Amy eventually chose her path. It has been rocky at times, but although I would never tell her, she has made me proud, and she has been there for me whenever I needed her.
After I had made these resolutions, abandoning the desire for revenge and deciding that I finally needed to make myself a priority, my own path did not change immediately. But, gradually, I took my time and figured out how to improve my life. Unfortunately, I still had to work at the shoe shop for a few months, but in the meantime, Beth next door had completed her degree in horticulture studies and got a job as a landscaper systems officer in a botanical garden. She kept me informed about positions becoming available and, because of my insider connection, I was able to get a job at the gardens as a horticulture trainee.
I travelled an hour every day by train to work, but it was a glorious job. I spent days working outside in the sunshine, identifying plants, measuring pH levels of soil, performing outdoor maintenance such as trimming, mowing, weeding, and planting. I loved the dirt under my fingernails and breathed in fresh air. I could go for hours without talking to anyone but the plants. The pay was terrific; also, it enabled me to go to university where I completed a degree in microbiology. It turned out I was quite good at that too.
The photos, well, I got rid of them years later by sending them to Carlana’s address. I didn’t know if she still lived there, though. I couldn’t imagine she would remain living on a property where a murder had happened. When I posted the photos, it wasn’t a concern to me if she received them or if they went to someone new in that house. I had eliminated every single piece of evidence, and the feeling was phenomenal. I stopped following her, and I don’t know what happened to her. The only thought I had, a few years later, was when I heard that the wellness licences the government had issued were being revoked altogether. It was now illegal to give any kind of health or psychological advice online, and the punishment for doing so was hefty. Anyone that wanted to practice in any form of health-related field needed to get a university degree. At forty-five I completed my own degree, and n
ow, at fifty-eight, I am the head speaker at this conference today.
I was asked to do this talk at the last minute. I had been in Denmark, presenting a speech there. I thought I’d stay longer, have a small holiday somewhere in Europe. But I was invited to speak at this conference, so I thought I’d come back sooner. I left my dog, Prospect, with neighbours as I often do. I missed him terribly. I hadn’t seen Amy for a while, and was pleased when she said she would come to listen to me talk at this conference.
I stand up and take my jacket from the back of the chair. The jacket is only a costume for this presentation as I would melt if I wore it outside. I do up each green button slowly. I do everything with intention these days, something that I wished I had learned many years ago. I don’t take my time because of my age, but because I want to savour everything around me, I want to take time for myself. Sometimes I worry that I will make mistakes like I often did before, if I move too fast. In the old days I fumbled through everything, and nothing worked out – but those kinds of thoughts don’t exist for long in my mind.
I take a sip of my coffee and take a look in the mirror. My hair is still black, no grey in sight, it’s pulled back in a neat, low bun. I run a manicured finger over my brow and take a deep breath. I am passionate about speaking on environmental issues, even though many people say it’s too late, the environment has already been ruined. I agree, because once I was one of the people that contributed to the inevitable damage of the globe. My personal agenda was always more important. But I have earned my right to speak, and now people value what I have to say. I have worked with the top scientists in the world, and my research findings are appreciated.
I walk down the hallways, emerge onto the stage. There is darkness around me but the stage is well lit, I am in the centre. I look to the left of me as I walk. Sitting on chairs made of dehydrated compost materials are three guest speakers. I recognise her face then, she looks exactly like her mother. Maia. A familiar sensation runs through me. Thrills. I didn’t think my body would react in that way to seeing her face. Memories return. Have I missed the excitement of the chase, after all these years? Or am I just glad that that dreadful chapter is over?
I give her a smile as my answer, and step upfront to the microphone.
Even though I can see a myriad of faces, it is not hard to convince all of them that the world is changing. It is much more difficult to convince myself that I have changed.
“Hello, ladies and gentleman, thank you for being here today, I am honoured to head this conference today.”
Thank you for reading this Crooked Cat novel. If you have enjoyed it, we and the author would be grateful for a review. Thank you.
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Section 1
Section 2
Section 3
Section 4
Section 5
Section 6
Section 7
Section 8
Section 9
Section 10
Section 11
Section 12
Section 13
Section 14
Section 15
Section 16
Section 17
Section 18
Section 19
Section 20
Section 21
Section 22
The Plastic Seed Page 14