Speak No Evil

by Liana Gardner

  She shuffled to the couch. “I don’t know. I guess going back to school stirred up a bunch of feelings I thought I had buried.”

  Roger smiled. “That’s my girl. Talk to me about those feelings. Let’s see if we can slay the demons.”

  A puff of air escaped her lips as she silently laughed at the image of Roger as a demon slayer.

  “Go ahead and mock me.” He mimed pulling an arrow out of his heart. “I can take it. Now talk.”

  Melody’s mouth went dry. She swallowed a few times but still couldn’t get the words to come out. Roger pointed at the speakers. How did he know she was having a problem and not just stonewalling him?

  She fished the music player out of her pocket and connected it. Pressing play on “In Love with an Angel”, she held her breath through the opening bars.

  He stood by me

  When he shouldn’t have

  Lifted me up

  When life was bad

  Around every corner

  His smile I’d see

  No matter what

  He was there for me

  When she pressed pause, Roger leaned forward.

  “So, who is the he in the song?”

  She couldn’t continue looking into his blue eyes. She picked at the cuticle on her thumb. “An old friend. Vince.”

  “Was Vince a special friend?”

  “Yes ... no.” She stopped, her jumbled emotions tying her tongue. Roger waited while she untangled her feelings. “Vince was my best friend.” She turned her head to the side and shot him a look. “Do you know what it’s like to always be different? To be the one who has bounced from family to family?”

  Roger stroked his stubble. “No, because I grew up in a stable, if slightly dysfunctional, household. But I imagine it is difficult to go from house to house, changing schools, leaving friends, never feeling like you fit in.”

  “When I lived with Quatie Raincrow, things were better. On the reservation, I wasn’t the odd one out because of my heritage. And I had friends because I was in one place long enough to make them.” She listened to the ticking of Roger’s watch. Even while living in Cherokee, she spent more time with Quatie than friends her age.

  “When I had to go live with the Jacksons, their son went out of his way to make sure I didn’t make any friends. So when I was with the Hatchets and met Vince, I thought it was possible to have friends again.”

  Roger made a note on his tablet. “You lost touch after you moved on from the Hatchets’?”

  Melody rubbed her temples. “Not exactly. Vince was the best friend I’ve ever had.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  February 8, 2013 – Melody, age 14

  I unlocked the front door. Vince waited on the front porch to see me inside. If only he knew I was safer outside. Once in, I closed and locked the door and leaned against it for a few moment’s respite before having to deal with the family. With any luck, Hatchet wasn’t home yet, and I could have a bit of peace.

  Sadie poked her head around the corner, widened and crossed her eyes, then cocked her head toward the family room. My heart sank. It meant one thing—Hatchet was home. I shrugged off my jacket and put it and the book bag in the closet.

  Hatchet stood by the family room windows, twitching the curtains shut as soon as I walked in. His folded suit coat laid across the couch back. His crisp, white shirt didn’t have a single wrinkle, as if it had just come off the hanger instead of having been worn for the entire day. He hadn’t loosened his tie.

  After glaring at me for a moment, he widened his stance and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I thought you were told to come straight home from school.”

  I shot a look at Sadie, but she averted her eyes. I shouldn’t have expected any help from her; she’d made it clear I was on my own. I met Hatchet’s angry stare as deadpan as I could. “I had homework to catch up on.”

  His jaw pulsed. “Is that why you were making out with a boy on our doorstep?”

  My mouth popped open. I hadn’t been making out with Vince. I sensed rather than saw Sadie stiffen. What was going on? Sadie never reacted to anything, except with surliness and disdain. I kept my words level. “I wasn’t making out with him. He gave me a ride home.”

  “Like hell. You don’t think I watched while you groped each other?” He flung his hand toward the window. “Who is he?” The last words came out in a growl.

  My heart thumped. I wasn’t going to let him rattle me. I hadn’t done a thing wrong. Except for the borderline lie. I did have homework to catch up on ... I just hadn’t done it.

  “Who?” Hatchet’s face turned red.

  My mouth went dry. I unstuck my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “He’s a guy from school. And we weren’t groping. He hugged me. That’s all.”

  “Wade, leave the girl alone.” The doorjamb held Evelyn upright as she drew her bathrobe closer around her thin frame.

  It took me a moment to remember Wade was Hatchet’s first name. Evelyn was the only person I’d ever heard call him Wade. Everyone else, including Miss Prescott and Sadie, called him Hatchet.

  “I was just trying to find out why Melody didn’t honor your request to come home after school.” Concern replaced the anger on Hatchet’s face. “Are you sure you should be out of bed, sweetheart? I thought you weren’t feeling well.”

  She tucked a lock of dishwater-brown hair behind her ear. “I’ll go back up in a moment. Melody, I’d like to talk with you.” She turned to head back upstairs. “Sadie, can you get dinner?”

  “Sure, Mama.”

  The question and answer were both given as if Sadie hadn’t already started dinner. She made dinner every night because Evelyn didn’t feel well enough. After having lived with them for almost a year, I still didn’t know what was wrong with her. No one ever said, and I hated to ask.

  Hatchet treated her like pure gold—extremely valuable, but easily broken. Precious beyond all else. Nothing was ever too much trouble when it came to what Evelyn wanted. Nothing in the world mattered more to him than she did.

  When Miss Prescott first placed me with the Hatchets, I’d seen why she said they were good people. Hatchet’s devotion to Evelyn, his active service in his church, and dedication to his job all showed what an upstanding member of the community he was. So Sadie was a little on the dark side, I hadn’t thought anything of it. I’d thought maybe the Jacksons were an anomaly and I had once again found a loving home.

  I followed Evelyn up the stairs. On the landing, she swayed and I thought she might fall, but she righted and continued on.

  Her room was lit by a single, heavily shaded lamp, so it took my eyes a moment to adjust to the gloom. Evelyn sat on the edge, adjusted the bed to a sitting position, leaned against the pillow, and swung her legs up.

  “Have a seat, Melody.” She pointed to the chair next to the bed.

  I sat on the edge, not sure what Evelyn wanted. I’d only spoken with her separately two or three times since I’d been living with them.

  “How are you doing?” She took a sip of water from the glass on her nightstand.

  She hadn’t brought me up to her room to find out how I was doing. I didn’t know how to answer the question. What did she know?

  Evelyn shook her head. “I’m sorry. I told myself I wouldn’t start off with social niceties, yet they’re so ingrained I did anyway.” Her lips flattened. “I’m just going to come out and tell you.”

  I braced myself.

  “I had a conversation with Rebecca Prescott a few days ago.”

  Oh. My stomach unclenched a little.

  “She’s concerned because your grades have been slipping.” She paused.

  I held back for a few moments while Evelyn waited for me to speak. “She talked to me about it. I’ll bring them up.” I couldn’t meet her gaze, so I stared at the bedspread instead.

  “I’m worried advancing you a grade is causing the problem. Are you getting along with the other kids at school?”

  The quilted bedspread
had been made in blues, greens, and purples in the double wedding ring pattern. Calm, serene, traditional, like Evelyn herself. I was afraid to say anything because once I started talking, I might not stop. If telling Quatie Raincrow why I was unhappy with the Jacksons had caused her heart attack, I couldn’t risk the same with Evelyn. I couldn’t take another death on my conscience.

  “Melody, honey, I’m not upset. I just want to know what’s wrong so I can help fix it.” She pulled the blankets a little higher. “Sometimes all you need is to talk about what’s wrong with someone else and it puts things in perspective.”

  First Vince, now Evelyn. I wanted to say something ... anything ... but what?

  “Have you made friends?”

  I nodded. “School’s okay. Really.” I didn’t have a lot of friends, but it didn’t matter. I had a few and they were enough.

  She looked at me with a slight frown. Her eyes implored me to share more with her. “I don’t think you’re happy and haven’t been for a while. At first, I thought you needed time to get over your horrific experience with your last foster placement.”

  She grabbed a tissue and blew her nose then wadded the tissue into a tight ball. “But you’ve been with us for ten months, and I think you’re more unhappy than ever. I don’t want you to be miserable.”

  My insides writhed as I battled the urge to tell her the truth.

  “After I spoke with Miss Prescott, I called the school and found out your teachers feel you are shy; a good student not working up to your potential.”

  The only sounds in the room were the occasional ping of the radiator against the background hiss of the humidifier.

  “Then I contacted your school before you came to live with us and heard what a good student you were, and how you might be quiet but were confident in your studies.”

  I had studied a lot then to keep my distance from the detestable Boyd. I did all the extra credit I could get my hands on as an excuse to stay in my room by myself.

  “Then I called your school on the reservation.”

  My eyes briefly met hers before I looked away.

  “I found it interesting that your teachers described you as outgoing and talkative. These days you barely say a word unless we ask you a question.” She touched my hand. “Are you being teased or bullied at school? We’ll support you in taking care of the problem.”

  I couldn’t let her think school was the problem. “No. I’m not being bullied.” She wasn’t going to be happy until I told her something. “I miss Mama, Daddy, and Quatie Raincrow. I loved them all so much, and they left me. And as I get older, I miss having a mamma.”

  Evelyn clutched the wadded tissue against her heart. “Oh, sweetheart. I can’t imagine how much pain you’ve been through. I hope you can think of me as a surrogate mamma to you. If you ever need to talk about anything, my door is always open.” Tears brimmed in her eyes.

  “Thank you. If I need to talk, I’ll come see you.” I swallowed hard, wanting nothing more than to escape the dim emotion-charged room. “I should go see whether Sadie needs any help with dinner.”

  She wouldn’t. Every time I asked her what she needed me to do, she responded with a single word.

  Leave.

  If she only knew how much I wanted to.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Spring 2015 – Melody, age 16

  “Melody, wait up.”

  Kelly sprinted toward her, his unbuttoned blazer flapping with each step. He held his hat on his head and had his guitar strapped on his back.

  He grinned when he reached her side. “Thanks for waiting. Thought you might want an escort to class.” He took a step and kept talking. “‘Why, thank you, Kelly. You’re the sweetest thing to walk me to class.’”

  Melody tried to suppress a grin and failed.

  Kelly slid his hands in his pockets. “You’ll have me blushing, Melody. I’m just being a good friend.” He kicked a rock in their path out of the way. “‘You’re not just a good friend. You’re the best. And so talented.’”

  The snort escaped before she could stop it. He reminded her of Roger when he pretended to speak for her.

  He kept up the chatter. “Now you’re going too far. I mean, I’m a good guy, but best? You’re right about me being talented, though.”

  A guy called across the quad to him. “Hey, Kelly.”

  Two guys with short haircuts stood with hands on hips. Her stomach sank.

  Kelly pointed at himself and mouthed, “Me?”

  “Yeah, I’m talking to you.” The tall guy with the short brown hair took a step toward them. “You wanna watch your back with that chick.”

  Melody’s cheeks burned and she stared at the ground. Somebody had figured it out.

  Kelly pointed at me. “Her?” He made a face like the guy was crazy. “She’s sweet as punkin pie, Rich. You should get to know her.”

  Rich came closer while his buddy waited behind. “Dude, I’m serious. You don’t know who she is.”

  She had no doubt Rich would enlighten Kelly and in about two minutes she’d have no friends ... again.

  “I know who she is. This is Melody Fisher.”

  Rich curled his fingers into a fist next to his leg. “Kelly, be serious for a sec. I’m trying to give you a heads up. She’s the one who stabbed Troy Alexander a few months back.”

  Stomach acid hit the back of her throat at the mention of Troy.

  “Troy and I train in the same off-season football camp. He told me all about what happened. So dude, get a clue and leave the crazy chick alone.”

  The burning hatred coming from Rich’s eyes was exactly why Melody hadn’t wanted to return to school. Why couldn’t Rebecca have let her stay homeschooled? She clenched her jaw and tried to keep her knees from shaking.

  Kelly wrinkled his forehead. “Rich, you don’t have the whole story. Melody told me things didn’t go down the way Troy said.”

  What? She hadn’t said a single word to Kelly. She hadn’t told anyone.

  Rich’s eyebrows shot up and his mouth dropped open. “She talked to you?” He pushed Kelly on the shoulder. “She’s a mute, jerkwad.”

  “Her?” Kelly gave a short laugh. “When we’re together I barely get a word in edgewise. You must be thinking of a totally different Melody Fisher.”

  Why was he lying?

  Rich threw his hands up. “Look, just trying to do you a favor. When you end up with a knife in the back, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Don’t you mean a pair of scissors?”

  He knew?

  Kelly’s face went blank. “Thanks, Rich, but I’ve got this covered. We’re good.”

  Rich stalked back to his friend and Melody couldn’t stop the shakes.

  Kelly ducked to gaze into her eyes. “Hey, you gonna be okay?”

  Melody sniffed and nodded.

  His lower lip slid out. “You’re not lying to me, are you?”

  She smiled through the tears standing in her eyes.

  “We’ve got to get to class, so come on. I said I’d escort you and I will.” He took hold of the crook of her arm. “Don’t worry about guys like Rich. He means well, but is a bit misguided by knowing that jackass, Troy.”

  The way he said Troy’s name ... he had a history with him, like she did.

  “Actually, a bit surprising, but nice of Rich to try and warn me. He must be worried about his end-of-year party. He hired me and some guys I jam with to play.” He nudged her. “Most of the time he pretends he doesn’t know my name, so yeah, that was an encounter of the bizarre kind.”

  He opened the door to the building. “You’ll be fine during classes. When it’s break time, you come find me. People will leave you alone then.”

  When Rebecca picked Melody up for her therapy session, the unpleasantness of the morning had faded. But it rushed back when Rebecca asked how her day had been.

  She pulled out of the parking lot. “I thought things were going pretty well for you in school. What happened?”


  How did she know? Melody hadn’t given anything away. Where did she start? With Kelly? With Rich?

  “Talk to Dr. Kane and tell him about it. Please?”

  She didn’t want Rebecca to be irritated with her. She had intended to tell her. Rebecca might give up on her if she didn’t talk. If that happened, Melody would give up. She cleared her throat. “I’ll tell you ... tonight.”

  Rebecca smiled. “Fine, sweetie. But talk with Dr. Kane anyway, okay?”

  Melody nodded.

  Rebecca pulled into the parking lot. “Have a good session. I’ll be waiting out here for you when you’re done.”

  Roger was pacing the office, muttering, when she entered. She checked the time. She wasn’t late. He reached the wall, spun around, and looked startled to see her standing there.

  “I’m sorry. I must have lost track of time.” One corner of his mouth curled up. “You caught me working through a speech I have to give for an upcoming convention.” He grabbed his tablet off the desk. “I may wear a hole in the carpet before I get it right.” He sat in his chair and did a double take. “What happened to you?”

  She shrugged.

  His right eyebrow rose. “Not good enough. Come on, you can tell me. And I’ll help you out. You didn’t have a fight with Rebecca.” He leaned back in his chair and raised his voice a notch. “‘How on earth did you know, Roger? Are you psychic?’”

  He grimaced. “Psychic? No. If you’d had a fight, you’d have been seething and ready to throw things around. So my guess is something happened at school to hurt you and made you sad.”

  She glanced from the floor to his eyes and to the floor again. “Some kids at school know who I am.”

  “Oh.”

  Yeah, oh. He should have realized this would happen. The story had made a big splash when it happened because Troy was a high school superstar. It didn’t matter whether the media kept her name out of the papers and off the airwaves—Troy had a big mouth and ran it to anyone who would listen.

  Roger drummed the stylus on the chair arm. “If you can stick it out, and they aren’t heckling you, I still think it’s best for you.”