Never Forgotten

by Jennifer Chase

  NEVER FORGOTTEN

  An Emily Stone Short Story

  By Jennifer Chase

  * * * * *

  PUBLISHED BY:

  JEC PRESS

  Copyright © 2013 by Jennifer Chase

  Author Blog/Website: http://authorjenniferchase.com/

  CHAPTER 1

  The turbulence rattled the overhead compartments and shook the airbus from side to side. The passengers busied themselves with a book, magazine or some other form of distraction until the plane smoothed its course. The huge engines shifted and finally settled down as the aircraft leveled off to continue the four and half hour journey to California.

  It was a clear day leaving the Chicago O’Hare Airport, but even the beautiful fluffy clouds and brilliant sunrise did not cheer up the dwindling spirits of the teenage girl. It was only one week until school started again, and even that did not raise her spirits. She and her mother had already gone shopping for new clothes and an updated backpack for the eighth grade school year, all with giggles in the process. Her mom could make anything seem like fun, even daily chores.

  None of the previous fun times cheered up Emily Stone. Her enthusiasm was lost. Life did not make sense anymore, and it had hurled an unfathomable bottomless hurt onto her that would never heal – ever. She absently picked at her armrest trying to concentrate on anything but her circumstances.

  Emily turned her head and watched the middle-aged man next to her. He snored softly. Eyes closed and jaw relaxed as the oxygen came and went. Sprigs of brown hair covered part of his forehead. He appeared completely relaxed and comfortable. She paused another moment to study the man closer and noticed that he had cut himself shaving in three different spots. The coagulated blood remained in the creases of his neck and one near his ear in a curious arrow shape. The strange outlines mesmerized Emily for several minutes as she put together a story. She imagined the man hurrying at the airport hotel to get ready to catch his flight, and in the process, he cut himself shaving. He had probably forgotten his electric razor in a rush to pack for his business trip and had to use a cheap disposable razor instead.

  She turned her head forward and looked down. Pressing her petite hands firmly against her thighs as she inspected the variations of her acid washed jeans; Emily tried to focus her attention on any detail to avoid thinking about that night. Anything to keep her mind occupied. The horror was never far away. She squeezed her eyes shut recounting that incident that changed her life forever.

  * * * * *

  Pushing open the front door to the modest three-bedroom home, Emily entered the foyer still buzzing with irresistible energy after the barbeque. It was barely 9:00pm. She loved spending time with the Springer family who lived only a couple of streets away. They had four children, two were Emily’s age, Ron and Heather, and the younger toddlers, Jean and Jessie, kept the energy level hopping. Big, juicy hamburgers tossed onto the outside grill accompanied by side dishes neatly arranged on the kings sized table, made the entire gathering that much more fun.

  It was warm and humid, so Emily begged her parents that she wanted to walk home alone. After careful consideration, and some hesitation, they finally agreed. Emily loved the nighttime in Valparaiso. After the warm Indiana day and sudden afternoon rain shower, the evenings offered a new look at the landscape and the entire neighborhood. Fireflies lit up the trees with a dancing display. Green grass, shrubs, and trees highlighted the sidewalk; some still had moisture droplets from the recent shower that sparkled in the evening light. The aroma was intoxicating. The feelings of fast ending summer elevated everything outside and made the ordinary seem extraordinary. At least that was what Emily imagined.

  Emily’s mom and dad would come home within the next hour. They wanted to take a leisurely walk together to enjoy the evening. They were like that, still in love, and cherished their time together.

  In the meantime, Emily ran up the stairs to her bedroom and switched on the light. Her spacious room overlooked the backyard, which was the way she liked it. She could daydream about anything as she watched the birds, trees and flowers. It was her special place. Her parents encouraged her to read and learn new things as long as she spent time outdoors, and of course, completing her schoolwork on time.

  Emily had spent hours and poured over tons of books that interested her, from the required schoolbooks to anything in the library that caught her attention. She loved photography books with large brilliant photographs of exotic places and fascinating animals. With these books, she could spend hours visualizing herself in these faraway countries, so she kept the oversized volumes on her nightstand.

  Two tall stacks of books crowded one corner of her room, they teetered a bit from time to time from sheer heaviness. These were the books she liked to call “the work in progress group”. They were the hardbacks in which she learned about new subjects. Emily loved science and math, but also any book that showed how something worked, why it was necessary, and how professionals performed a specific job. She savored each page of discovery, whether it was about a clock, household device, or growing a vegetable garden to more difficult applications, such as chemistry, entomology, and police science.

  Emily made sure that she found more for her collection. The library sold books annually to make room for new releases, and to get rid of worn out copies and too many duplicates. A recent book find was a forensic book, The Crime Scene, published in the early 1980s.

  Emily picked up the police procedural and sat down on the floor. She took note of the already earmarked pages and carefully placed yellow highlighting of key points and definitions of crime scene investigation. It was probably a student or maybe even a police cadet. The thought excited her. She could be reading the actual textbook read by a now patrolling police officer or even a homicide detective.

  Comfortable on her stomach, she flipped through pages, stopping occasionally to read about fiber evidence and tool mark impressions. Detailed photographs of the examination marks left from screwdrivers and crowbars to fibers and hair taken from actual crime scenes filled the pages. There was plenty of instruction for the first responders and first officer on a crime scene. As she continued to read, her eyes became heavy and her mind drowsy. Soon, she dosed off to sleep and found herself travelling throughout beautiful places in a relaxing dream.

  Loud pounding abruptly woke Emily.

  She sat up and stared at her alarm clock on the nightstand. It read: 1:35am. She realized someone had knocked on the front door. There were muffled voices from outside, but it was difficult to make out the actual words.

  Emily peered out her bedroom window and saw the bumper of a car parked on the street in front of the house. “Mom? Dad?” She called out.

  No answer. The house responded to her request with numbing silence.

  Emily stood at the top of the stairs. She could see two men standing on the front porch. Her small right hand gripped the handrail firmly. A flutter passed over her stomach and she found it difficult to breathe in a normal manner.

  Again, she said, “Mom?” She waited for a moment.

  Emily descended the staircase and moved slowly to the front door. She peered through the peephole standing on her tiptoes and saw two police officers staring back with eyes focused, expressions solemn.

  Slowly she opened the door.

  The shorter police officer with a ruddy complexion leaned forward and said, “Are you Emily?”

  Looking from officer to officer, Emily finally answered. “Yes.”

  “Can we come in?” The other officer said.

  Emily studied them and knew that she did not want to hear anything they had to say. She glanced at the nametag of the kinder-looking officer. It read: M. Sullivan. The “M” stood for Mark, Mike or even Manny she supposed
.

  The officers took a step inside the entryway and took a casual look around.

  “My parents will be home soon.” Emily’s voice shook slightly when she spoke, but instinct told her that her mom and dad were not coming home.

  * * * * *

  The rattling overhead compartment banged a couple of times as the plane prepared to land at the San Francisco International Airport. Emily immediately opened her eyes; she must have fallen asleep for most of the ride. It was not uncommon for her to dream about that night – it was the defining moment that had changed her life forever.

  Dipping with the floating feeling of a rollercoaster ride, the aircraft touched down on the runway with a clunk. The landscape rushed by Emily’s window as the gears grinded and brakes were compressed. She watched and wondered how all of the planes expertly maneuvered on other runways, taking off and landing like a well-oiled machine.

  A scratchy static came over the intercom and then cleared. A deep, well-rehearsed monotone voice announced, “Welcome to beautiful San Francisco. It is a nice, cool seventy-one degrees with a slight haze. We hope that you have enjoyed your trip. Thank you for flying Western Airlines.”

  The airplane taxied to the terminal.

  Emily glanced at the man sitting next to her as he rubbed his sleepy eyes with his knuckles. The nicks on his face had dried into tiny scabs and would no doubt disappear in a few days. He never looked at her, either he did not care, or perhaps he felt uncomfortable sitting next to a teenage girl.

  The airbus came to a complete stop as the lights inside the cabin brightened. Passengers stood up and retrieved bags, computers, and other carry-ons before waiting their turn to depart. There was an urgency among the crowd as they eyed the flight attendant at the exit door, fidgeting hands, and bodies inching forward. Most people wanted to get to their next destination quickly.

  Emily patiently waited. It really didn’t matter if she was the last one off the plane. Her future was set. A few extra minutes wouldn’t change anything.

  It took about fifteen minutes before Emily walked through the exit and down the concourse into the airport terminal. She readjusted her new burgundy backpack on her right shoulder as she searched for a familiar face.

  Her Uncle Jim pushed his stocky body to the front of the crowd after he had spotted Emily. With white and grey hair combed back, the middle-aged man sported a large smile and sparkly eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses. He resembled a science teacher, which seemed fitting because he was an inventor of technological gadgets and gizmos that made everyday life a little bit easier. At least that’s what Emily deduced from the photos and the descriptions that her parents had told her.

  “Little Em!” Uncle Jim reached out, picked up Emily in a bear hug, and squeezed her tight. “I’ve missed you.” He set her down and took a good look at her. “Was the flight okay? Did you get a snack?”

  Emily nodded and forced a little smile. She held back the stream of tears that waited to burst forth. Her legs felt strangely spongy like in gym class after a long run and several repetitions of calisthenics. People moved in and out. The group around them swiftly merged in a muddled array of shapes and colors. Sounds amplified and then turned muffled with a strange pitch.

  Uncle Jim took her backpack and slung it over his broad shoulder. “I tell you what, let’s get something to eat when we get out of here. It’ll be about two hours before we get home.”

  “Okay.” She said.

  She was not hungry, but did not want to disappoint her uncle. His eyes reminded her of her dad’s eye, since they were brothers. The feelings of uncertainty, loneliness, and deep loss were never forgotten or far away. The fact was Emily was not going home again. She would now have to stay with her uncle and live with the gut-wrenching memory that her parents were murdered and the case had steadily gone cold.

  CHAPTER 2

  Pine Haven Junior High School was like any other school. There were the usual clique groups of the popular crowd, studious types, and misfits, but all were optimistic for what the future would bring. It wasn’t so bad. The first day of school always seemed scary and like a huge unknown, but somehow things would work out for the best. For most twelve and thirteen year olds, it was a great time to make new friends and memories that would last forever.

  Emily sat alone.

  It amazed her that kids could eat lunch outside on benches, leaning up against the buildings, or sitting on the steps. She only ever ate lunch in a school cafeteria due to the heat or cold weather. It was a pleasant change.

  The kids were excited and chattered about everything they did during the summer. Voices rose louder as laughter erupted from several groups. Everyone had new clothes and backpacks. A couple of teachers, a tall muscular man and one pretty, redheaded woman, walked down the hallway, giving an occasional nod to students. It was as if they took inventory of everyone for later documentation.

  Dressed in matching grey pants and shirt, the janitor pushed a large garbage dumpster on wheels that he deposited the contents of various trash cans around the campus. He never looked directly at anyone. He nodded at the passing teachers, who headed to the lounge.

  Two men dressed in light blue overalls with the words “E.S. Air Conditioning & Heating” moved through the crowd of kids and headed around behind the cafeteria. They seemed oddly out of place and hurried to their task. Emily noticed that they resembled each other, one was older than the other, and it was clear that they were father and son, or maybe uncle and nephew.

  The warmth of the lunch hour made a drastic contrast to the weather Emily was accustomed to in Indiana for this particular time of year. It always seemed like summer in California, she remembered all of the movies and magazines depicting the sunshine state. The coastal climate would soon become a new love for her, now that it was her home.

  She munched on her cold turkey sandwich that her uncle had made for her. In the past, fruit and salads were her usual packed lunches carefully assembled by her mom, but now, that seemed like a lifetime ago. Tossing a soggy tomato into the flowerbed for the birds to fight over, she pressed the whole wheat halves against the thick turkey slices. It oozed with mayonnaise and spicy brown mustard. It was not as bad as it looked.

  A few squawking black birds made their way into the tree above Emily. They screeched and fluttered their wings, obviously wanting her to leave their territory. She could not help but notice their deep black wings with a hint of concentrated purple tones in the right light. The delicate detail of feathers cascaded into the next. It struck Emily that no two feathers were exactly alike.

  “Hi.” A voice interrupted Emily’s perplexing theory. She turned her attention and stared at three girls towering over her. “You’re new here, right?” The taller, flaxen haired girl asked.

  “Yes.” Emily said as she swallowed another bite of her sandwich.

  “I’m Sara. Sara Perkins.” She smiled warmly with perfect teeth and hot pink lipstick. “This is Erin and Becky.” She gestured to her two friends who gave an uninterested nod, obviously wanting to be somewhere else.

  “I’m Emily.”

  “Emily…” Sara repeated. “Where are you from?”

  “Indiana.” Emily was aware that her slight mid-western accent seemed more pronounced with certain words.

  Sara sat down on the bench next to Emily. Her friends did not seem interested and they slowly wandered away to another group of girls. The girl asked. “So what is there to do in Indiana?”

  “The usual stuff.” Emily shrugged, but watched Sara’s dark eyes scrutinize her. It seemed that she was interested and really wanted to know, so she continued, “Swimming, reading, horseback riding….”

  “Sounds fun.” Sara offered some M&Ms to Emily.

  Emily shook her head. “No thanks.” She watched the girl and suspected that she wanted to tell her something important away from her friends. She didn’t know why, call it a hunch. Sara kept glancing over her shoulder. Emily’s suspicions misdirected her before, but there was somet
hing about Sarah that even her close group of friends did not know about. Sara’s eyes were sad or perhaps even a bit scared. She politely waited for Emily to continue.

  Both girls sat in silence.

  The bell rang. It was a shrill double tone alerting the student body to get to class before the final bell.

  Sara stood up slowly. “Well, see you around Emily.”

  “Nice meeting you.” After Emily spoke, she thought she sounded lame, but didn’t know what else to say.

  Sara approached her two friends and the three of them walked to the locker area.

  After tossing the remnants of her lunch in a nearby garbage can, Emily quickly went to her locker and retrieved her backpack and books for the next two classes. Her morning academics were typical of the eighth grade courses.

  She still couldn’t help but feel isolated and alone. At least she could concentrate on her core classes of reading and writing after lunch. It always brought joy to Emily learning new things.

  Just as Emily stepped into a crowded classroom, the second bell rang. Students were jabbering about their fun summer vacations. She took an empty seat and placed her backpack on the floor. Several kids took quick curious glances at her before continuing their conversations.

  Emily sat back against her chair and unconsciously wound her fingers through the ends of her blonde hair. The blackboard had carefully printed names of books, some were known to her, and others were not. It piqued her interest. She wondered if it was the reading list for the semester.

  Giggles came from the front row where Sara and her two friends leaned close together talking about some boy. Sara didn’t seem to notice Emily or maybe it was because she had a reputation to uphold. It was obvious that Sara was in the popular crowd and only wanted to meet Emily to see if she posed any type of competition in the student body pecking order. Emily had seen this behavior before.

  The classroom became quiet.