by Abe Moss
✽✽✽
Nuala knocked on her door to let her know dinner was ready.
She had a suspicion that Lyle wouldn’t be joining them, but she was wrong. He was at the table seated next to Nuala. Addie sat next to Joanna. Bud was absent.
She considered not saying anything due to Lyle’s presence but decided she didn’t care one way or the other. His feelings were of no consequence to her.
“When will Bud be back?”
Nuala gave a brief, acknowledging smile.
“Soon, hopefully.”
“Is he feeling any better?”
“He’s doing fine.”
They ate in silence for a time. Addie felt somewhat proud for not being too nervous as she did, not paying Lyle any attention and not showing any evidence of effort in doing so.
“Can you not feed that thing at the table like that?” Lyle asked.
Joanna looked up, hand held under the table with food for Meatball.
“What’s it matter to you? I’m over here, you’re over there.”
“It’s disgusting. Do you know where that dog’s mouth has been? You’re letting him lick all over the very fingers you’re eating with.”
“I don’t care. They’re my fingers, not yours.”
“Fine.” Lyle set his fork down. “I’m done anyway. I’ll excuse myself.”
He got up, took his dishes to the sink, and then escaped into the hallway to his room.
When his door closed, Addie said to Nuala, “What’s going to happen to him?”
“What do you mean?”
“What’s the doctor said about him? And Bud?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything yet. Don’t worry about it.”
“He shouldn’t get to hang around here like he’s done nothing wrong.”
“The doctor will know what’s best.”
Addie pushed the remainder of her food around on her plate, thinking. How could Bud return to the guesthouse, she wondered, if Lyle wasn’t somehow kept in check? If he’d done what Bud said he did—and Addie didn’t doubt it—surely it wouldn’t be safe to have them around each other upon Bud’s return.
“How would you feel about taking your turn tomorrow?” Nuala asked.
Addie tensed. “My turn?”
“In the tub, I mean. Everyone else has had theirs. Just you, now.”
She’d forgotten. She thought it over. “I don’t want him there,” she said, nodding toward the hallway. “I’d be more comfortable if he wasn’t.”
“I have a feeling he won’t want to be there, anyway.”
Bud probably wouldn’t be there either, Addie thought.
“I’ll be there,” Joanna said nonchalantly, still handing scraps to the dog under the table. She glanced up at Addie. “I mean, if you want me there.”
Strangely enough Addie was relieved.
“Of course,” she said.
But her insides resumed their squirming at the thought.
✽✽✽
Sleeping was difficult with so many aches and pains.
Bud lay on his back in the dark bedroom, waiting for sleep to fall over him like a shroud. His eyes were heavy, but sleep wouldn’t come. The doctor had given him something for his pain, a kind of drink which didn’t taste familiar at all. It wasn’t a medicinal taste, but it wasn’t sweet either. It was… rich, somehow. Heavy and full, syrupy and flavorless. But no matter the taste, it couldn’t alleviate all his pains. The stabbing and the throbbing were dulled, but not gone. His whole body radiated with it. He wished he could toss and turn, but the slightest movement caused him more pain. So he lay still and wished.
Then a knock came at the door.
He lifted his head briefly. The light at the bottom of the door was interrupted by what appeared to be two feet. Whoever knocked said nothing. That likely meant it was the doctor.
“Yes?” Bud said, and winced as he said it.
The door opened and it wasn’t the doctor who entered, but Nuala. She carried a lantern with her and set it on the floor just inside the door.
“You’re having trouble sleeping,” she said. “Aren’t you?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
Nuala looked over her shoulder into the hallway.
“The doctor has something for you that he thinks will help.”
She stepped aside and to Bud’s curiosity someone else walked into view. A tall figure. Illuminated by the soft flame of the lantern on the floor he could distinguish that it was a man, dressed in a simple shirt and jeans. They passed Nuala and approached the foot of his bed. They looked down on him. They were handsome, he thought. Not familiar.
“Who is this?” he asked.
Nuala smiled softly. “He’s here to help you, Bud. Let him.”
And with that she left the room and closed the door.
The man stood by his bedside. Bud stared, frozen by uncertainty. The man sat next to him.
“Who are you?” Bud asked.
The man grinned. A handsome grin, Bud thought. The man took hold of the sheet over Bud’s chest and drew it down his body, down over his legs, and left it at the end of the bed. Exposed in just his underwear, Bud shivered, though he wasn’t cold. There was something hypnotic about the man on his bed. He was gentle and strange. His eyes were dark and full of knowledge, as though he knew Bud, or something about him.
“Where did you come from?”
He knew nothing he asked would garner an answer but he asked anyway, filling the silence. The man placed a firm hand on Bud’s knee. He felt along his thigh, over his hip. Bud’s belly squirmed at his touch, ticklish. The man leaned forward as his hand continued over his chest to his throat. His hand slipped over his jaw and then cupped Bud’s face. There he paused, rubbed his thumb over his cheekbone. That sly grin remained. Then his hand quickly slid away, down his throat and chest and belly, and his fingers hooked under the waistband of Bud’s boxers as he traveled over his pelvis again, and drew his underwear down with it.
Bud closed his eyes.
Chapter Twenty-One
Maybe it was for the best that her turn in the tub approached on such short notice, as it meant much less time dreading it. She thought this to herself the following morning sitting on her bed with the door closed, paralyzed with fear.
There was a knock on her door.
“Addie?” It was Nuala.
“Yes?”
“Are you going to have breakfast with us?”
“I’m not very hungry this morning.”
She sat on her bed for a while longer. She looked out her window periodically, and found it slightly amusing that the view—the dark mountains piercing the sky and the now-yellowing lake of grass with its shore of spiny pines in between—that had astonished her upon her arrival was now just an ordinary backdrop to everything else she’d already gotten used to. She was very nearly comfortable being there.
If I do ever get around to feeling better… do I even want to go home? Won’t that undo everything I might feel better about with being here?
Soon there was another knock on her door. It was Nuala again.
“Addie, I think it’s time.”
“You think?”
“I don’t want you hiding in there all day.”
With a heavy sigh she stood and opened the door.
After taking in her appearance, judging her mood by the hanging of her shoulders and the reluctance in her eyes, Nuala smiled.
“It’s going to be okay,” she said. “I promise.”
Addie only nodded.
“All right. Let’s get it over with.”
✽✽✽
The three of them journeyed to the pond together: Nuala, Joanna, and Addie. Joanna brought her dog, of course. Lyle never came out of his room. Addie thought that was okay.
They waded through the long grass. The tub was there as expected. Addie couldn’t recall where exactly it had been last they’d seen it, but she didn’t care. Its placement was the last thing on her mind.
She had several ideas of what she might see inside the tub. Some of them made her more nervous than others, but none of them caused her any dread. The dread came from a different place: a place of uncertainty, which held the possibility that she might not expect what it had to show her. It couldn’t be too terrible, though, could it? Surely if she was to be bothered by what she saw, it would have to be something she knew or recognized, something personal, and she couldn’t imagine what it could be that would cause her such distress. And yet here she was, sandwiched between the other women, crawling through the breezy field, heart hammering like a fist against her sternum, fingertips cold and numb and tingly, the blood draining from her face the closer they came. When the tub peeked its shiny rim above the grass Addie caught herself dragging her feet.
…maybe there’s something you’re hiding from yourself…
They breached the pond’s shore, gathered before the bath under the warm sun. It was already full. Without a moment to reconsider Nuala unfolded the towel and held it wide.
“Come now,” she said gently, and Addie nodded sheepishly and took her place behind the cotton curtain.
From the other side of the towel Joanna said, “There’s really nothing to be too nervous about. Just… just remember no matter what happens you’ll come out alive.”
Addie hadn’t expected any words of comfort from Joanna, and she didn’t know how to respond so she didn’t. She removed her clothes and sat them in a neat pile. Naked, she turned to the tub, peered into the foggy brown water with far-away eyes. She was reminded of the night of the storm, when the bathtub sat outside her window… and someone unwelcome climbed out of it…
“It’ll be all right,” Nuala whispered, still holding the towel at her back. “I’ll be here if anything should happen.”
One foot in, and then the other. The water was already warmed by the sun. She slid herself into it and could feel the tiny grains of dirt between her skin and the smooth porcelain. Once her butt was situated, she leaned back. She held the sides of the tub on either side, as though she meant to propel herself out of it at any moment. She looked from the corner of her eye and saw Nuala drop the towel to the ground and join Joanna at the edge of the field. They seemed so distant there. Without turning her head, they were just a couple of shadows standing nearby, observing.
She took a deep breath.
She closed her eyes.
The sun beat down on her and formed a muddy red hue against her shut eyelids. She released the tub and let her hands fall into the water at her sides. Instantly she was faced with the memory of her dead mother in the bathtub. She saw her lifeless arm, drawn open by the razorblade, hanging above the cold water like a soggy branch.
Is this it already? she wondered. Is this how it goes? Is this what I see?
But no, it wasn’t. She was only still in her own mind, thinking her own thoughts, reminding herself of things which she remembered on the surface. There were deeper things to come, she knew. She could feel it now. A surge. It was an immense pressure, a gargantuan rising from the ocean’s depths, preparing to surface violently, bringing old dead things up with it in its rush.
Then without warning the darkness seized her.
✽✽✽
It spirals, the darkness. It spirals backward.
✽✽✽
A house. Large and square. New neighborhood. Car stopped.
This is it. We’re here.
A warm day. Blue sky. Empty street. No one else. No children.
Where are we.
Car door. Circling. Smiling at the house. Excited. Car door. Seat belt.
Why are we here.
Out of the car. Into the gutter. Car door.
Visiting a friend.
Across the sidewalk. No lawn. Just dirt. Sky so blue.
What friend.
Sandals in the dirt. Sticker bushes in the dirt. Across the dirt.
An old friend.
To the porch steps. Shade. Cold concrete.
Haven’t seen in a while.
Dad how long.
Up the steps. A welcome mat. Empty paint buckets. Nothing else.
How long what.
Knock on the door. Once. Twice.
How long will we be here.
Doorbell.
Not too long.
Footsteps.
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What are you crying about. Stop. Stop that. All you do is cry. Eat your food. Stop crying. My head hurts. Just eat your food. Daddy won’t be home ‘til late. Working. Two more bites. You haven’t eaten enough. You’re a big girl now. Eat your food. Why are you crying. You’re too old for this. I’m too old for this. My head hurts. I need to lie down. Finish your food. Watch TV when you’re done. Let me sleep. Let me sleep.
✽✽✽
Red. Deep red. A wash of it, thick and dim. Cold black underneath. Swirling. Gray smoke. Pale fingers. Shadows in the red. Bobbing shadows. Shadow puppets in the red. A low light.
✽✽✽
Dirty looks. Hateful looks. Little love. No love. Nothing left in those eyes for me. She knows. I’m not a good girl. She knows. Daddy knows. She doesn’t look at me anymore. Not the same. Daddy is gone still. Never here. Not when I need him. Less and less. I want to be with him.
Not there, though. Not there.
✽✽✽
Sometimes good people do bad things. Sometimes bad people do good things. Anyone can do bad things. Everyone does bad things.
✽✽✽
Sick. Nauseas. Skin is sensitive. Can’t touch anything. Hurts to touch. Hurts to be touched. Fingers like static shock. Makes me sick. Don’t want to be touched. They might know if they do. They can tell. Somehow they can. I don’t like it.
✽✽✽
What’s wrong with you. You’re weird lately. Why are you being like this. You drive me crazy. I don’t care. Be like that. My head hurts. You give me a headache. You act like a little girl. You know that. You're not a little girl anymore. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You don’t have it so bad. Where is your father. He’s never home on time. I bet he’s at it again.
✽✽✽
It’s okay, sweetie. I’m here now. It’s all right. We can go now. Thank you for being a good girl. Thank you for being such a big girl. We can stop and get something to eat on the way home. You don’t need to cry. I’m here. We’re going home. Everything is okay.
✽✽✽
Door unlocked. Door open. A man inside. Tall. Heavy. Not like dad.
Hey Jonathan. How’s it goin.
Hands together. Arms around shoulders. Pat on the back.
Not too bad, Danny. How you been.
Through the door. The smell of paint. Pungent. Painful. Empty house. Sheets on the windows.
And who’s this you’ve got with ya.
Smiles all around.
This is Addie, my daughter.
Looming. Arms folded. Big smile.
Addie, this is Danny, an old friend of mine.
Hey there big girl.
Too big. Too tall. Don’t look.
She’s a little shy.
Plastic sheets on the floor. More buckets of paint. Dripping rollers. The smell is strong.
I have a daughter myself, Addie. Her name’s Sarah. I think you’ll like her.
Deeper into the house.
Follow us, honey.
Plastic underfoot. Crinkling. Stairs go up. Stairs go down.
Up the stairs. Hallway is bright. Sunny.
Sarah isn’t home right now, but you’re welcome to check out her room while your daddy and I talk for a bit.
Open doorway. Blue walls inside. Like the sky.
I don’t want to. I want to come with you.
Laughter. Into the blue room.
Here you go. Do you like dolls? My daughter has a bunch. Doesn’t play with ‘em much anymore. Take a look.
Peek around the doorway. Blue walls. White bed. White rug. Open chest. Large man on one knee. Dolls in hand.
Here you go.
Take the
doll. Dad leaves. Watch him go.
Watch them go.
✽✽✽
He doesn’t know what he’s doing to us. He leaves me here with you. I can’t handle it. He should try it for once. He never will. You hate me, don’t you. I know you do. It’s just as well. You think I’m a real witch, don’t you. Your father’s your big hero, huh. He’s the nice guy. He’s the dad. He’s fun. He has too much fun, I think. You don’t even know. You don’t even know. It’s gonna get him one of these days.
He’s killing us both.
✽✽✽
What do you say, Addie. Sarah really wants to meet you. Danny told me so. What do you say. I think you’ll have fun. It’ll be nice to visit. A little trip. Make a new friend. Your mom made new friends. So should we, I think. Just don’t tell your mom. She doesn’t want us to go. She’s not feeling right lately. She wouldn’t like it. She doesn’t want me to have any friends. Can you believe that. I think we both need new friends. What do you say. Sarah really wants to meet you.
Let’s go for a ride.
✽✽✽
Large square house. Other houses growing ‘round. Wooden frames. Skeleton houses.
Sky is black.
Car door. Car door. Seat belt.
Not a single star.
Across the dirt.
Cold steps.
Doorbell.
Large man. Loud welcome.
Inside.
Hey there again big girl.
Don’t look.
Door shut.
Let’s head on downstairs, I’ll introduce you to Sarah.
Upstairs. Downstairs. Down the stairs.
Downstairs. Dark. TV is on. Bright light in the black. One couch. One girl. Watching TV. Older. Older than me.
You two watch TV together. Your dad and I are gonna talk upstairs.
Sit apart. Watch TV in the dark. Say nothing. Not a word.