Blue Star

by Valerie Van Clieaf

  I planned on spending my day editing footage at the Cineworks film lab, but the house on Franklin was pulling me back. I couldn’t shake the feeling, so real it was almost visceral, that an opportunity was slipping through our fingers. I decided to visit the house one more time before heading to the lab. I put on a rain jacket, grabbed my briefcase and an umbrella, and headed out into the drizzle.

  The curtains on the window closest to the front door were pulled tight, same as last night. I tried the front door first, banging loudly, again and again. If the young woman had come back, she might be a heavy sleeper and it was still early. Then I moved around to the back of the house and tried to peer in the ground level basement windows, but they were filthy with years of grime. I climbed the stairs to the back door; knocked and waited. After a few minutes, I returned to the front door and knocked again. The rain was picking up, so I pulled out my umbrella.

  It could be that lots of people came and went, like the young woman here yesterday. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to leave my name and cell number and a quick note asking if anyone knew anything about the whereabouts of Carey Bolton, to please get in touch. Her mom was worried sick about her. It was raining hard again. I was careful, as I folded the note and tucked it into the mail slot on the door, not to let it get wet.

  I headed over to the Cineworks lab to get some work done. I was editing footage for a documentary I’d finished shooting about Canadian Indigenous women scholars. I kept at it the rest of the morning and for a good part of the afternoon, but my thoughts kept returning to the house on Franklin.

  I finally gave up the pretense of trying to work and called Kate, to see if her and Bart wanted to take in a movie later, anything to chase away the hopelessness that was closing in. Kate was feeling just as despondent. I arranged to meet them at the Cineplex downtown.

  Much later, back home, despair had its way with me. Sheets of grey rain raced across the Burrard Inlet. The inlet had been shrouded for five days now and counting. Lucas wasn’t back till Monday. He texted me earlier that he was going out for drinks with some buddies from Toronto and he’d call tomorrow afternoon if he got the chance. Something to look forward to.

  Last week, Amelia had given us all pictures of Carey and I picked up mine, lying on the coffee table where I’d left it earlier. It was her school picture, taken last year, a beautiful kid with a great big smile. Rosaline. Amelia. Michael. Everyone so desperate now. No one sleeping. It would have been wonderful to find Carey at that house, safe and sound. It would have been wonderful to bring her home.

  A strong gust of wind blew sheets of rain against the window. My view of the road below our cottage and the inlet were momentarily replaced by my worried frown, reflected there. I pulled my blanket tighter.

  CHAPTER 3

  It was a difficult decision, but he chose the soft white doggie with the black eyes and red ribbon. Perfect for Carey, a beautiful, innocent child, untouched by the ugliness of this world. She wasn’t too old for a stuffed animal. She was only eleven and it would help with the loneliness she might be feeling.

  This was a big change for her. He could understand that, but eventually she’d come to realize he wanted the best for her and once they were close, she’d know how lucky she was. He’d buy her some clothes as well. Hudson’s Bay, the children’s department. He loved The Bay, the bustle and excitement and the wonderful smells. Had loved it since he was a boy and shopped there with his mom.

  It would be so much fun to bring Carey shopping and let her choose the things that she liked. Silly of him. That couldn’t happen. Not yet. Not until she trusted him and knew he was her friend. Once she grew to love him and understood that he wanted only the best for her.

  Young girls love pretty things, love to dress up. He knew that. Hadn’t he raised a daughter, his own little Wilhelmina, nearly a woman now. Winnie had always loved his presents although lately she seemed standoffish, as though she wanted to put some distance between them. He blamed that on her mother Sarah, such a poisonous bitch. Doing her best to turn Winnie against him.

  He didn’t really approve of the way that Sarah was allowing Winnie to dress. Far too provocative. She’d always been such a sweet, innocent child. It had meant a lot to him to have a close relationship with Winnie. She was so much like him. But she was sixteen now and probably thought her old dad a bit of a fuddy-duddy. She would always be his little Winnie though, and when she got older, she would understand how much he loved her. He knew that Winnie loved him more, but she had chosen to live with Sarah; probably because she felt sorry for her. Sarah was having a hard time with their separation. She was so insecure, but she had always been that way, depending on him for everything, like a child really. Now though, she was mean and ugly and did nothing but yell at him every chance she got. She was so ungrateful for everything that he’d given her. He wanted to just cut her off without a cent but his lawyer said no, you can’t do that, there are laws, and so he had been generous because he didn’t want Winnie to suffer, but not too generous. No point giving either of them the wrong idea.

  If he was to admit it, he could barely relate to Winnie now. So different than she used to be. An adult really. Maybe he would just have to let her go. The thought made him sad. They had shared so much.

  The salesclerk brought him back to the present, pointing out that the stuffie had a secret compartment. That made it an even better gift. Children love that kind of thing. He purchased the stuffie and hurried down the street to The Bay. Once there, he headed to the children’s section. He would pick out some warm colours to accent Carey’s beautiful skin and she would need underwear and socks, new shoes. Melanie said she was a size 12. While he was at it, he would pick up new outfits for all the children. He loved shopping for them.

  Melanie certainly didn’t, but she was young, barely an adult herself. She didn’t realize how precious the children were. Joy was good with them, but they were keeping her busy with other things and she wasn’t always available. He’d pressure Phineas to find a replacement for Melanie, preferably a mature adult with experience caring for children. Someone like Joy.

  Carey had been awake for a while but found it hard to open her eyes. It was so much easier not to. Rain was coming down hard, right above her head. Like at home, she thought. There was a truck outside her window, making a high-pitched beeping as it backed up. It was so close, as though she could reach out. Touch it … This wasn’t home.

  “Leave me alone! I want to get dressed by myself.” Somewhere in the house, a boy. Unhappy. Crying. A door slammed. Swearing. Another voice. “Dress yourself then, for Chrissakes! Just get it done.”

  Carey’s leg began to cramp up and she instinctively stretched her leg out straight, then bent her knee. She became aware of warmth and wetness. Eyes open now, she looked at the young girl, fast asleep beside her, then sat up, lifted the covers; saw the pee stain under her. She shifted to the dry side, snuggled down, and pulled the covers up to her chin. She glanced sideways at the girl, hoping she would wake up, but she didn’t move. She has the most beautiful hair, thought Carey, who had always wanted curly hair.

  “Don’t touch me ... Please don’t ... It hurts! Stop! I don’t want to!” Another boy, then a woman’s voice; quiet. Carey can’t hear what she is saying. The crying stops. The door to Carey’s room opens and a young woman enters.

  “You’re awake. Good. You need to have a shower and put on this dress.” She laid the dress over a chair. There’s more clothes for you in the dresser. The right side is yours.”

  “Excuse me, please,” said Carey. “Does my mom know I’m here?”

  “Get out of bed you little bitch! Now! Get downstairs and eat breakfast. It’s on the table. Then get back up here. Have a shower. Get dressed.” Carey quickly got out of bed and stood beside it, wincing at the coldness of the floor.

  “Is it okay if I call my mom? She’ll be worried.”

  “Get moving. Now! Your boyfriend’s coming to visit.”

 
“My boyfriend? There must be some mistake. I don’t have a boyfriend. Please. Can I go home now?” The woman ignored her as she pulled back the covers on the sleeping child, then, disgusted, threw them back over her and left the room.

  Carey went to the dresser and looked in the right-hand drawers. She found some socks and underwear and a pair of jeans and put them on under the nightgown. She crossed the room to the bed and looked at the sleeping child, reached over and touched her shoulder to see if she could wake her up, but she didn’t move. She wanted to ask her where they were. She left the bedroom and went downstairs. She was alone in the kitchen. She could hear a bathtub being filled somewhere in the house. There was yogurt and bananas and apples on the table. She found a bowl in the cupboard and a spoon in one of the kitchen drawers. She ate a few spoons of yogurt and reached for a banana. She peeled it halfway and started to eat it, but her stomach lurched, and she wanted to vomit. That’s when she started to cry.

  “Shut up down there! Finish eating and get your ass up here.”

  “I’m coming.” Carey got up from the table and moved to the back door. Right there. Quietly tried to open it, but it was locked. She started looking in the cupboards for the key.

  “Get your ass up here. Now!”

  A man came to visit in the early afternoon. Carey thought he must be important and that’s why she had to wear a grown-up dress for him. He brought new clothes and toys for everyone. He had a white stuffie for her. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so she pretended to like it. He’d bought clothes for her too. The dresses he bought were for someone much younger. Not like the one she was wearing which was so embarrassing. Her mom would never let her wear it.

  The man who stole her from Terrace went and got food for everyone and the visitor ate with them. Carey was scared when he put his arm around her like he was her father. She didn’t know what to do. But he was nice, and he told her not to be scared. She tried hard not to be and told him that she wanted to go back home and could she please call her mom. He told her not to worry. They would take good care of her and everything would be okay once they got it all sorted out.

  Before the visitor left, he told Carey he’d be back Friday because he was taking her for a special welcome dinner. He told Melanie which dress he wanted Carey to wear that night. Melanie was mad about that, but she didn’t say anything. He chose two other kids to come to dinner with them and told Melanie to make sure they were dressed nicely. The girl who slept with Carey was coming. The other girl that he chose started to cry and asked could she please not go, but the visitor said no, it was a special request. Melanie grabbed the girl’s arm and took her upstairs to one of the bedrooms, but she wasn’t nice about it and the girl had to run to keep up.

  After he left, a boy named Christopher told Carey that you have to do everything they tell you even if you don’t want to and even if it hurts and no one gets to go home and she’d better stop asking or Melanie would hit her. She asked him where they were, but he didn’t know. She asked him how long he’d been here, but he couldn’t remember. A man brought him here and before that he lived in Quebec with his foster parents. But he knew they weren’t in Quebec because when they were driving around in the car all the signs were in English.

  The kids were watching a movie when Melanie left the house. Carey heard her lock the door. The man who stole her came in and turned off the TV and told them they had to go to bed now. She knew why because she heard the visitor tell him that there would be visitors tomorrow night and make sure the kids were rested. He gave them all a blue pill, like the one he gave her the first night. He checked to make sure everyone swallowed it, then he took them upstairs and told them to get undressed and go to sleep. He told Carey to sleep with Marie. ‘She likes you,’ he said. Carey got a towel from the bathroom, folded it and put it under the sheet on Marie’s side of the bed. Then they climbed in. Marie took her hand and held it tight but didn’t say anything. She hadn’t said anything all day although sometimes, she made strange, grunting sounds. She wanted to ask someone why visitors were coming tomorrow night, but no one else asked.

  CHAPTER 4

  My hair is floating free. I’m in the tub. Must have fallen asleep. The water’s cold. Why didn’t Lucas wake me up, like he always does. Morgan, my lazy princess, let me warm up your tub, your highness ... Lucas ... Must have gone out. Something’s bunched up under my neck. My bath pillow ... No ... It isn’t. Bath pillow is comfortable. I must have used a towel and it shifted while I was sleeping and now it’s wet. I’ll just turn on the hot water. Then I’ll find my bath pillow.

  Oops. I slipped off the towel. It’s pulling on my neck ... That hurts ... It’s tied to my neck ... It’s not a towel. It’s my hoodie ... Why am I wearing my hoodie in the tub? I’ll just shift my head. Damn. Cold water is going into my ears ... Really cold ... I’m not in the tub ... Better open my eyes.

  So beautiful. Wow ... the sky’s so close. Like I can touch it. Thick with stars ... But it’s so cold ... I’m outside ... lying in water ... No ... my head’s in water. Running. On the beach ... Fell on the beach. Right ... It’s the ocean ... ocean waves. If I roll over ... I can get up. Have to go home. Damn, that hurts. These pebbles are sharp ... digging into my cheek. Get off these pebbles … I need to get up. Need to use my hands ... Hands ... Feels like they’re asleep ... Oh ... No wonder ... I’m laying on them. Need to roll over. Bring them forward ... Can’t ... They’re stuck. Can’t move my hands. Not stuck. They’re not stuck. They’re tied behind me!

  “Shit.” Can’t hear my voice ... I can’t hear my voice ... Can’t talk. My throat is sore ... so sore ... hard to swallow. Awful smell? From the rag. He made me breathe it. Didn’t want to. Tried not to ... Shit ... I’m scared. No. No. Can’t be scared ... Don’t be afraid. It’s okay Morgan. You need to get up. If I can just stand up. My head hurts. It’s bleeding. Must have banged my head. When I fell. My feet are too high. Need to get my head up higher. Higher than my feet. Bend my knees and pull my feet downhill, far as I can. That’s better. Now, lift myself. Over the pebbles. Hard to do. Shift up. Up. I’m tired. Really tired. Have to do it again. One more time. A little bit further. Get my head a little higher. Up the slope ... That’s better. The sand feels so good under my cheek. Nice and cool. Rest here, just for a little while. Have a nap. On the slope. Very steep. Running near the ocean ... Night ... Love running at night ... By the ocean. Can’t smell the ocean.

  No lights ... No boats ... Not the inlet ... Where? Need to get up. Now! ... Get up. Roll over onto my knees ... Damn ... Everything really hurts ... Don’t make any noise ... Need to get up ... Get my feet under me ... Stand up. Shift some weight to my left knee. Pull my right foot forward. My runner is caught ... Careful. Don’t fall. Bring it forward. That’s it. Shit! I’m going to fall. No! Can’t fall ... Slower ... Go slower ... Okay. Right foot is under me ... Now. Shift my weight to it. Careful. Nice and slow. Pull my left foot forward. Get it under me. I’m falling ... Not falling ... Just dizzy ... Raise my head and torso ... Wait ... Wait. Find my balance ... Dig in and push up, hard as I can. Fuck ... Nothing is happening! Can’t do it. Can’t stop shaking ... Wait ... Just wait … Don’t give up. Try again. Okay. Halfway up. Almost there. I can do this. I know I can do this ... Balance ... Lean forward ... Keep legs strong ... Damn … Hurts ... Push up ... Slow. Nice and slow ... I’m up! ... I’m up! ... Dizzy ... So dizzy ... Wait it out ... I’m gonna fall ... Can’t fall. Don’t fall. Air is cold ... Hoodie’s wet ... Cold against my back. Head hurts ... Can’t wait ... Don’t wait ... No time ... Move ... Now ... Slow ... Keep your balance ... Climb the slope ... Not far ... A few more feet ... Almost there. Almost there. Okay, you made it! ... Oh no! Shit! The blue truck. He’s here! Where? Where the hell is he? No. No. I won’t get away! He’s going to kill me ... Now! Get away now! Those trees ... to the right. Help me. Someone please ... No one here ... I’m weaving like a drunk. Don’t fall ... Don’t fall. Can’t fall. Not now ... So dizzy ... Don’t fall ... Keep go
ing ... Shit! He’s going to catch me! No ... No. Get into the trees ... Hide in the trees.

  You Are My Sunshine. It’s him! Whistling. Doesn’t know I’m up! Find a place ... hide ... Can’t help ... stumbling ... Keep going ... Where’s the trail ... here ... It’s here ... Damn ... Legs are shaking ... Have to hide ... No where to hide! ... What was that? A flame … right there. Gone now. Shit! ... I’m hallucinating. No ... there. Another flame, and another, and another. So many! Thick brush. Oh no! My legs. I’m down ... Can’t get up. Doesn’t matter. Need to rest. He’ll find me ... Wait ... Here ... in here ... A place to hide! Get off the path. Wiggle in, feet first ... Move faster ... Can’t. The brambles ... Low ... Ouch ... Hurts. Not enough room. Push ... Harder ... Make it bigger. Pull yourself ... All the way in ... Pull my head in ... Almost ... in … I’m in ... Is my hair in? Don’t know. Thumping. Heavy boots. He’s coming. Slivers of light. His flashlight. Blood ... running down my nose. In my mouth ... Salty. Take a few more breaths. Don’t make a sound. One last breath ... Hold it.

  Shit. His boot. Inches from my face. Paint spatters on the toe caught in an arc of light ... His flashlight.

  “Fucking native bitch!” His voice is deep and guttural, and I wince with fear. Feel the pee seep between my legs. But he can’t see me! He can’t see me! Hold still ... He’s moving away. Footsteps are fading. Gone now.

  Where am I? Water wasn’t salty. A lake. What lake? Where? ... So many stars ... No stars in the city. That smell? ... On my clothes … Sweet. Sickening … Feel sick ... Can’t vomit. Can’t make a sound ... Need fresh air ... Move my head. Just a little. My neck is sore. Hurts … Box … I was in a box. It was … so hard to breathe ... Someone yelling ... Do what you want ... Get rid of her ... Me ... Get rid of me ... Have to stay awake. Can’t let him find me. Have to ... stay ... awake ... So tired.