by Krystle Able
“I don’t know what you are talking about, and I don’t appreciate you pinning whatever it is on me,” I stuck my chin in the air and told her confidently while gripping the ring I knew she was looking for in the palm of my hand behind my back.
I had stolen it from Diana yesterday. The poor girl sings so loud and off-key in the shower that she didn't even hear the door creak open when I slipped my hand inside and swiped the white gold band with the emerald stone center from the sink counter.
I slipped the pretty little accessory into the back pocket of my jeans and stuck my thumbs through the belt loops on my hips. Candace glanced down at my now bare hands before meeting my eyes in a glare once again. She was definitely someone I wouldn't miss when I left here in two weeks. I wouldn't miss any of them actually. Not a single person in Lochnar would ever cross my mind as soon as I drove over the town line.
"We've got to get to group," I reminded the middle-aged woman who was trying to intimidate me, a young woman nearly half her age.
"We aren't going to the meeting until you give me Diana's ring," Candace warned and shifted her weight, so the combat style boots she liked to wear were planted firmly in place.
I rolled my eyes and tried to step around her, but she maneuvered in front of me. I tried to duck around the other way and was blocked again. I growled in frustration which solicited a snort from Candace, my enemy at the moment. I could feel the anger bubbling in my stomach as I stepped back, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath, just like Dr. Neumann had taught me. The breaths weren't stopping my hands from clenching into fists; they weren't stopping the red rage from burning its way up my chest onto my face from my gut.
"Jesus, you really are crazy, aren't you?"
Candace's voice smashed through my mind like a boulder and the mindfulness techniques Dr. Neumann had taught me went right out the window as I lunged at the woman.
Candace was pulled back through the door to my bedroom before I reached her by Barb who stood in the hallway surrounded by the other six Lochnar House women, including Diana who looked terrified and had tears in her eyes.
I patted my pocket, felt the tiny gold band still stuck in the corner and when her eyes met mine, I smirked at her and gave her a wink. She gasped and turned away quickly. She was less than three years younger than me, but I couldn't help but look at her as a child. She was smaller than a woman her age should be and had stringy hair that she had to keep short because it fell out so often. She was even missing a few teeth, but they weren't baby teeth that had fallen out. Bulimia had taken a toll on the young woman, but if she had made it to a halfway house, it meant she was on the mend at least.
The concept was laughable when I thought about it--being on the mend at Lochnar House. This was my second time here. They hadn't fixed me, but I was getting out anyway, time was up. This time would be different from the last though, I was going to straight to Cedarville, and I was going to be smart.
"What are you laughing at?" Barb snapped from the doorway.
"Nothing," I shrugged without the smirk leaving my face.
"Anyone want to tell me what's going on here?"
Barb looked from me to Candace who was now standing behind Barb.
"She stole Diana's ring," Candace offered casually and returned my smirk.
"Do you have proof of this? Did you see her do it?" Barb asked.
"Well no," Candace stammered having expected Barb to take her side without question.
"Then shut up and get down to group!" Barb yelled and clapped her hands at all the women.
They merged into a straight line with Candace and Diana mixing in somewhere near the middle as they filed down the stairs to the common areas. Barb waited until they were almost all out of earshot before she whipped around to face me.
"If you took that little girl's ring, give it back. If you didn't, quit pissing off Candie. You've only got a few weeks left, and we will all be glad to see you go. If you have to stay, it fucks it up for everybody, so don't do anything to get yourself in trouble, you hear?" Barb hissed.
"Loud and clear," I muttered back.
"Good," she stated as she turned and headed down the hallway after the other women.
Just another reminder that I wouldn't miss a single one of these people. Vile. All of them. I didn’t belong here. I wasn't like them. So, I stole things sometimes? So what? I grew up with nothing of my own, but a few pieces of clothing and a dirty teddy bear shoved into a black garbage bag, and even that was lost somewhere along the way. If I wanted to take things sometimes, I should be able to. I never hurt anyone. Even the judge knew I didn't belong in jail, and I just needed to go home.
I slammed my bedroom door shut behind me and followed her downstairs to our common room. There were two televisions on each side of the large room, four card tables with two chairs at each, a worn out brown leather sectional with a few holes in the cushions, and two Lazy Boy recliners that I flat out refused to sit in even once during the five and a half months I had currently been residing at Lochnar House. Canvas prints of inspirational quotes decorated the room, but I had never bothered to read any of them. There were shelves of books I had also never read and games I was never invited to play with the other women lining the room.
The chairs from the card tables had been gathered and arranged in a circle. The seven other women who lived there and Dr. Santiago, our group therapy counselor, were already seated. Two chairs were left open, one for Barb and one for me. Dr. Santiago stood when she heard us reaching the bottom of the staircase.
"Good evening Ivy, thank you for joining us," she smiled kindly and motioned for me to take a seat in the empty chair right next to her.
I ignored her gesture and crossed the circle to the chair directly opposite between Judy and Sammie. Dr. Santiago turned to Barb and shook her hand before both women sat, neither acknowledging my rudeness.
"Alright ladies, now that we are all here, I have an announcement to make."
The young doctor was probably only a decade or so older than I was though she had never told us her age. Her caramel complexion was nearly wrinkle-free except for lines around her eyes so she couldn't be much older than 35.
"One week from tomorrow is family day," she went on.
I shifted in my seat uncomfortably as her eyes flicked to mine first before glancing around to the others, gauging their level of uncomfortableness. I followed her eyes. Judy and Sammie who sat on either side of me both looked indifferent. Sammie was staring off into space, probably high, and Judy picked at her fingernails, letting the black nail polish crumble into a mess on the tile floor. Diana looked excited and was sitting up in her chair next to Candace, who also seemed rather happy. Two other women slumped into their seats and folded their arms while the one sitting next to the doctor already had her head buried in her arms as she sobbed.
I rolled my eyes as Barb went to her and offered a hug and comfort. Candace grabbed the tissue from a card table nearby and passed it around the circle. Her name was Aleah, and she was newer to the group. She was one of the women in their thirties but, like me, rarely came out of her room. Aleah was also very secretive, and none of us knew why she was at the house; we just knew she hadn't come from jail like the rest of us. Most nights crying sounds came from her room, but things had been getting worse for her lately. Last night she had woken up the entire house with her shrieking over a nightmare — just another reason to add to the list of why I was happy to be leaving Lochnar.
Dr. Santiago tried to ignore the sobbing girl next to her and addressed the rest of us.
"I know not all of us have what most people would consider family, but next week isn't about who gave birth to us or who our siblings are. Family Day is really about our support systems--the people who will have your backs and be a positive influence in your life when you leave Lochnar House. That might be a friend, colleague, boyfriend, or a sponsor from our program, but everyone will have someone here with them next week. Not a single one of you will be alone," the docto
r assured us.
I knew it was all bullshit. The first Family Day I suffered through happened in my first month here. My reaction wasn't as dramatic as Aleah’s, but you could definitely say I wasn't happy about it. I had no family except for the McCourts, and how was I supposed to let them know I was here when everyone kept telling me I couldn’t contact them. Dr. John was murdered, and Ester couldn’t be found according to my doctors. No one would tell me anything about Carter.
I had spent hours on Google Earth years ago searching the small town of Cedarville, Minnesota for the large, Victorian House with painted yellow turrets covered in black shingles I remembered growing up in. When I finally found the address, 23 Briarwood Drive, I felt closer than ever to finding Carter, but stealing the car to get there was what landed me in jail, and now the halfway house, in the first place. I sent letters to the house while I was in jail, but none were answered. Dr. Neumann had already extended my stay at the house by four months after finding out I was still trying to contact them.
I had done such a good job over the last few months pretending like I didn't care about them like I wasn't going to steal another car and drive straight to Cedarville the second I was allowed to walk off the front porch of the house without a fucking ankle bracelet on. Only two more weeks and one more Family Day to suffer through and then I would be free. I was growing antsy; Carter was all I could think about.
"Ivy?" Dr. Santiago called my name, interrupting my daydream.
"What?" I responded.
Dr. Santiago smiled. She always smiled when someone was rude to her. I wondered how long getting into the habit of doing that took, but I had never asked. Not like I was going to try using the technique, my frown fit much better.
"Your sponsor will be here for family day next week, but Kaitlynn is also going to be Diana's sponsor since you'll be moving on in just a few weeks," Dr. Santiago repeated since I hadn't been listening to her the first time.
I looked over at Diana. The girl was staring at her feet, but I could feel her trying not to look at me as she channeled her nervousness into her kicking feet that didn't quite reach the floor. How long had she been bulimic to have stopped growing at less than five feet tall? I considered the possibilities, remembering my own struggle with hunger as a teenager although I would never have considered throwing up the little bit of food I stole.
"Fine," I replied.
Dr. Santiago went on talking about the upcoming Family Day events. Group sessions, individual family sessions, trust falls, mazes, cooperative games, all the usual bullshit that I wasn't interested in and had already given little effort to participate in last time.
The rest of the hour dragged on with a few of the women talking about whom they had invited and what they were looking forward to about the event. Dr. Santiago skipped over me, which didn’t surprise me. I was often skipped over at group therapy. When she let me talk or respond the other women tended not to like what I had to say. I wasn't "empathetic" Dr. Neumann, and Dr. Santiago both told me. Why would I want to feel what other people felt? I didn't care, and I didn't want to "work on it."
When Dr. Santiago finally announced group was over, I darted right back up to my room. I didn't stick around for the desserts they tempted us with, trying to force us to be social and get to know each other better. No one followed me up the stairs and when I closed the door behind me, I knew I wouldn’t hear another voice until Barb woke me up and drug me down to breakfast in the morning. Sleep was the best way to get through the next two weeks, especially if I wanted to stay out of trouble.
I laid on the small bed and thought about the dream I had during my nap. I remembered playing in the leaves outside with Carter; it was one of my favorite things to do in the fall. I couldn’t remember any time that Mama Ester was outside playing with us, but I also couldn’t remember being forbidden from going outside. The more I thought about the dream, the more nervous I became. I felt scared, nervous, anxious, and terrified of being in trouble, but I knew that Mama Ester and John were kind, nurturing, and loving. They were trying to cure me, and they were the only family who would take a chance on me when I started being bad. I wasn’t afraid of them.
I grabbed my sleeping pill bottle from the end table and tilted it upside down, but no pill came out.
“Ugh!” I groaned into the pillow as I flipped over.
I took another pillow and held it over the top of my head to drown out the light and the noisy chattering I could hear downstairs in the meeting room still. I prayed I could get through the night without another false narrative playing in my head.
Chapter Three
"This is your room," Mama Ester announced as she pushed open the heavy, black door that more resembled an entrance than a bedroom door. "I hope you like it. I picked out every item just for you."
I looked up at her serene, beautiful, smiling face and smiled back. The sugar high from the cake made me giddy with joy. None of the other families had welcomed me in such an extravagant way--with birthday cake!
I licked my lips and rather than take a nap, as I suspected the lady wanted, I hoped we could go downstairs and have one more delicious slice.
Mama Ester gently put her hand on my back and nudged me into the bedroom. The small, four-poster bed with sheer, purple canopy was the first part of the room that caught my eyes. It was as if a big princess bed had been replicated to fit a little girl like me perfectly.
"Is this my bed?" I marveled.
"Everything in here is for good. As long as you stay good, you can have anything you want within these walls," She smiled warmly and stroked my hair.
"How did you know my favorite color is purple?" I asked in awe as I gazed around the quaint bedroom with lavender walls, plum bedding, and a fuchsia, fuzzy rug in the middle of the floor.
"I knew everything of importance about you Miss Lane, the minute I saw you."
Mama Ester knelt beside me. Her long, white cotton dress billowed around her bare feet and mine. I giggled as the soft fabric tickled my tiny toes, and she gently grabbed the sides of my head and pulled me into her chest. She smelled like soap and expensive perfume and when I pulled away the light that shined through the tiny bars on the window made her diamond earrings dazzle.
"Dr. John will be home soon. Carter will escort you to the bathroom so you can have a bath. You don't need help do you?"
I shook my head and laughed; What kind of eight-year-old needed help taking a bath? Mama Ester just smiled again and quickly patted the top of my head before she stood again.
"Good girl. Scrub good and make sure to get all the soap out of your hair. I'll be back to put a ribbon in it before dinner. You'll meet Dr. John then, alright?"
"Thank you, Mama," I nodded to her.
"Mama Ester," she corrected me. "Never just Mama."
The look on her face was stern, and her tone crushed my sugar high. I looked down at my bare feet and wiggled my toes, waiting for a physical reaction from Mama Ester. She turned without saying or doing anything else and walked out the door. I looked up and saw Carter, her son, standing in the doorway staring at me. He wasn't as enthusiastic as he was when he came bounding into the room with horns earlier, but I still hoped we could be friends.
The lady from social services hadn't told me there would be other children at this house. She hadn't told me much of anything though really, just shuffled me from one house to the next when the complaints started coming in.
"Hey," Carter greeted me.
He leaned against the doorway with his skinny arms crossed.
"You should tie your sneakers, so you don't fall," I told him and pointed down at his red Converse.
He narrowed his eyes in confusion then looked down to his sneakers that were, indeed, untied. He knelt and tied them quickly then stood back up and pushed the stray hairs that had fallen out of his low ponytail behind his ears. He crossed his arms again and looked me up and down.
"You're the youngest one so far. You're only eight, right?" He asked me.
> "Eight years old today," I reminded him as though he didn't just celebrate my birthday downstairs a few minutes ago.
"I'll be twelve in a few days, and most of the wicked girls here are older than me. You don't seem wicked," Carter declared.
I pondered his words for a few seconds. There were other girls here? Why didn't I see them? Why didn't they come to my birthday party?
"They don't get to come out of their rooms," Carter said as though he had read my mind. "They haven't been good. Their treatment isn't right yet."
I looked down at my toes again and thought about the last family, and the one before that, and all the others who had sent me away because I was bad.
"I'm a bad girl," I whispered to Carter without looking up at him. "Will I have to stay in my room too?"
Carter stepped inside the room and crossed the few feet to where I was standing.
"Did you really cut open all those animals?"
His voice trembled a bit when he asked me like he was scared of what my answer would be or maybe already scared of me like everyone else was.
I began to shake, remembering the most recent incident that got me expelled from the last foster home.
"They were sick. I tried to save them; I promise" I explained and hoped he would understand.
He grabbed my hands in his, but I still didn't look up.
"If you're good and do what father tells you to do, everything will be fine. Let's go; I'll show you the bath."
Carter gently pulled my hands, and I followed him. My bare feet padded against the cool wood floor. As we walked down the corridor, I noticed all the other doors, just like mine. A tiny chalkboard was fixed to each that I hadn't noticed on mine earlier. Each board had a number drawn in chalk in the middle of it--5, 10, 17, 21, 4, the numbers continued down the hall in no particular order on both sides. In total, there were ten doors, counting my room at the end.
Carter pushed through the wooden double doors at the end of the corridor, and we came to a foyer. Looking around the room, I saw a black leather love seat that sat all alone, an end table with a lamp stood against the opposite wall with another door, a white one, across the small room. A small, narrow, enclosed staircase led downstairs.