Shhh...Mack's Side

by Jettie Woodruff

  “No. Oh my god. Just stop, McKenzie.”

  “I don’t understand,” I admitted, looking at him with confusion.

  “Do you have any idea what I have been through? Do you have any fucking clue what you and your little sidekick did to me? DO YOU?” he screamed in my face. I didn’t falter. Not one inch. Something was coming over me, something, I don’t know, cloudy, like it was me, but not really.

  “I hurt you,” I quietly said, reaching up and touching his cheek. He jumped back, like my fingers burned his skin.

  “Come on. You’re going to bathe,” Mr. Nichols ordered. He grabbed my arm and shoved me forward.

  “Is Gia going, too? I want to see Gia.” Walking just in front of him, I couldn’t see his face.

  “Gia’s not here.”

  “She is. I hear her sometimes. I hear her scream when you hurt her.”

  “Shut the fuck up and keep walking.”

  “I saw her in the field. She fell down. She was crying or sick. I saw her,” I claimed. I didn’t understand. Why was Gia crying and screaming? I was sure I’d been there at least six, maybe seven days. He didn’t make me scream. Why did he want to hurt her and not me? We both took the stand. We both put him where he lost everything, including his freedom.

  As crazy as it sounds, I was a little pissed off at Gia, envious of her relationship with Mr. Nichols. It was always like that. Mr. Nichols never looked at me the way he did her. I noticed. I noticed the exchanged glances, the way Mr. Nichols would make it a point to touch her back when she left his room, the way she talked to him like they were best friends. Sure, he put her in her place many times, but that was only around other students.

  I remember one time after cheerleading practice, Gia and I walked back into the school to our lockers. We were cheering, being loud, and doing backflips down the empty hall. Gia was chanting some made up cheer about getting it in the ass. Mr. Nichols stuck his head out of his class door and stopped us.

  “Gianna, really? Shut up,” he said, nodding back to the three students in his afterschool suspension.

  Gia walked right up to him and placed her hand on his chest. “Got anything to shut me up with?” she teased in a low, raspy voice. My eyes widened at how close her lips were to his, shocked that he wasn’t pushing her away or stepping back. He looked right at her mouth, smiled, and made some sort of hungry grumble noise.

  “Stop yelling. Go home. Get out of here,” he ordered, stepping away from Gia. She batted her eyelashes and stepped closer to him again.

  “You know where to find me when you decide to shut me up,” she whispered, stepping around him. “Come on,” she said pulling my hand.

  “Gia! Oh my god. What did you just do?”

  Gia laughed. “I love fucking with him.”

  Gia always said stuff like that to him. The only time he was an authoritarian teacher was when other students were around. He always liked her more. As much as I loved Gia, there were still some things she did, or things she had, that left me feeling envious. Mr. Nichols was one of those things. Her grandmother was another. I never had grandparents. They lived in another state and I rarely saw them. Gia’s grandmother was the best. I loved her, but knew my boundaries. I could tell when Gia wanted me to back off, reminding me that she was her grandma.

  Her grandma always brought her these cool globe things, too. They came from some French artists, a friend of her grandmother. They weren’t like the snow globs I had, trying to be like Gia. They illuminated blue lights and played jazzy, upbeat music. I only had two, and I had to shake mine to make them do anything cool. They weren’t like Gia’s at all.

  “What are you going to do with us?” I asked, walking across the field to the icy cold stream, dreading the thought of the freezing water.

  “Walk!”

  I stopped talking and walked. I should have been thinking about the situation I’d gotten myself into, looking around, planning an escape, but I wasn’t. I was thinking about how cold the water was going to be, wishing it wasn’t hiding beneath the shading trees. The warm sun felt invigorating on my skin. The heat radiated through my hair, I could feel the warmth.

  “Where are we? Like what state are we in?” I asked, noticing the trees. There were a lot of pine trees, but no palms. We were somewhere east maybe. He didn’t answer and I didn’t look back. I breathed a deep breath. I guess I never thought about forced isolation. I chose to block out society. I chose to lock myself away in my house. I chose to quarantine myself from society. I could listen to the neighbor boys play if I wanted to. I could talk to the older lady at the grocery store. I could even call my mother if I wanted to. Now I couldn’t. Observing my surroundings, I never thought about escape. I thought about walking, how nice it would be to walk there.

  “Do you want to take our freedom?” I asked over my shoulder.

  “What the fuck? What’s up with the we shit? You got a mouse shoved up your puss or something?”

  I giggled a little, thinking about it. He wasn’t trying to be funny. “How many kids does she have?”

  “Who?”

  “Gia. She always wanted kids.”

  “She doesn’t have kids. Shut the fuck up and walk.”

  “How do you know that? Did she tell you?” That surprised me. She and Jake both always talked about kids. Gia probably lied to him. She wouldn’t want him to hurt her kids. Thinking about it made me think of Cara. I shook my head, trying to rid the thought. It wasn’t real. I wasn’t thinking about my dead baby, or Mr. Nichols’ daughter. I was thinking about poor Cara alone in the room. She would be scared. I should get back to her. What the fuck?

  “Get in,” Mr. Nichols ordered, shoving me toward the cold water. I didn’t have to worry about getting used to the water. My foot landed on a round rock, twisting my ankle. I fell, catching myself with my hands. I never thought Mr. Nichols could be so mean. He was never like that in high school. He was always so pleasant, goofing off, and joking around. Of course, Gia and I were like that, too. Was Gia like that still, well, before she was taken? Was she still the same fun Gianna.

  “You could let Gia go. I could just fill her shoes,” I offered, taking the soap from Mr. Nichols. “I should call you James, don’t you think? We’re both adults now. You’re not my teacher anymore. I shouldn’t call you that.” I bathed with the soap, sitting in the cold stream. It didn’t bother me to be naked in front of him. He never responded to anything I said. I babbled, cleansing my body with the bar of soap, same fresh scent, and watched him. He pulled blades of grass while glaring at me, contemplating. I wondered what he was considering.

  “Which room is Gia in?” I asked, looking back the distance to the creepy looking building. “How’d you find this place?” I asked, curiously looking around. From the looks of the asylum, I’d say it was eighteenth century, just by the architecture. I read a book once called Madhouse. It was about a soldier named John Whit. He had a head injury and because he could no longer speak, he was thought to be crazy.

  There was a lot of history in the book. Asylums were built miles from civilization, away from the townspeople. The one in the book was a lot like this one. There was a brick wall on this side, the back side where I lived. It had fallen over, decayed from years of harsh elements. I imagine it was the only recreation they had. That’s how it was in the book, anyway.

  “Have you seen Cara? Did you go to her when you got out? She’s thirteen, right?”

  “Shut up! I told you not to talk about my daughter.”

  “I’m sorry. I was just curious. Did she look the same? I mean of course she’s older, she was only toddler when you went to—”

  I didn’t even see him coming at me. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was hoping he had seen her. I wanted him to be happy about Cara. I wondered what would happen if I just sucked in, breathed the icy cold water into my lungs. Survival instincts should have kicked in by now, shouldn’t they? Mine must not have worked. I didn’t struggle at all, not one bit. My eyes were wide, staring at pebbles th
rough the clear spring. A dark, mossy looking greenery moved past my vision. My eyes weren’t cold. Why didn’t I feel cold in my eyes? Parting my lips, I felt the icy water fill my mouth, run over my gums and through my teeth.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Mr. Nichols yelled, pulling my head from the water and shoving me. I didn’t mind. It didn’t hurt, not really. I didn’t get to wash my hair. I wanted my hair washed. It had been itching ever since I’d found the old photo of the asylum. A girl with wild hair sat in a chair while a doctor in a white coat searched her hair with a pick and comb. A line formed to the right side of her, more crazy people waiting to have their heads checked for the insect invasion.

  Mr. Nichols didn’t let me wash my hair. He shoved me back toward my living quarters. I didn’t understand why he was so mad. Was he mad that I didn’t fight him, that I was just going to let him drown me without a fight? Cara, that’s what made him mad.

  “I should call my mom, she’s probably worried by now,” I said over my shoulder again. I was having a tremendously hard time concentrating on one subject. Maybe it was from being malnourished. One bottle of water and one sandwich wasn’t much, not that I ate much anyway.

  “Don’t worry about that. They don’t really miss you. I sent her a text message from you. It took her two days to respond with ‘okay, dear.’ Why is that McKenzie? Your parents were always involved with you. How’d that happen?”

  “Are you going to bring Gia to the creek now? I want to see her. When can I see Gianna?”

  I heard the deep sigh behind me. Did I say something to piss him off again? I didn’t remember Mr. Nichols being so touchy, then again, I don’t know what seven years of prison would do to a person. Maybe I was about to find out.

  Stopping just inside my door, Mr. Nichols shoved me forward. “Who did this? Who made this mess? Oh my god, Cara. I leave you for five minutes and you destroy the whole house,” I marched toward Cara. She knew she was in trouble. She was hiding on the other side of the bed. I couldn’t believe she colored on the walls, for heaven’s sake.

  “McKenzie, are you okay?”

  “Fuck you! You fucking kidnap me and lock me up in this room with barely enough food to survive on, and then ask if I’m okay? How the hell do you think I am, Mr. Nichols?”

  “Do you take medication or something?”

  “Like I said, fuck you. What’s your plan? You just planning on keeping us locked up here for seven years? Is that your plan?” I have no idea what set me off, maybe the fear of that door shutting and being locked in a room that felt full of crazy souls. It was making me crazy, I suddenly wanted out. I wanted my created isolation, not this forced incarceration.

  “You have no fucking idea what it was like there. None!”

  “Why don’t you tell me,” I smartly replied, noticing for the first time since we’d come back from the creek that I was naked again. I reached for one of my makeshift covers, but before I could cover myself, he jerked it away.

  “What’s the matter, Mack? Don’t like being naked?” he asked with a fist full of my hair. “I didn’t like it either,” he admitted, gritting his teeth while he yelled in my face. I shoved him, jerking my own head when he didn’t let go of my hair. I felt that one. Right across my face. My face was crammed into the springs on the bed that was occupied by a soul. I could feel the rusted metal, piercing my skin.

  “What? Did you your pretty little ass get taken?” Jesus, what the hell was wrong with me? I mean, it wasn’t an absurd question. I’d often wondered about how he would fare, walking into a prison with his body and his looks. Unless he was a fighter, from the movies I saw, he wasn’t a virgin anymore.

  “Shut your mouth! Shut your mouth right now before I show you,” he ordered, shoving his cock into my bare ass. I didn’t say another word. The wire cutting into the corner of my eye warned me not to.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered defeated. “I couldn’t stop it. I wanted to. I promise I did.”

  Mr. Nichols shoved me one more time, lifting himself off me. “What happened to you?” he asked. I couldn’t answer that. A lot of things happened to me, this room was the last one, the straw that broke the camel’s back. I didn’t know if I was coming or going. I wasn’t even thinking about my medication anymore. What was the point?

  “Would you like to stay for dinner?” I didn’t think I said that at all. It was the spirits, I was sure of it. I wasn’t crazy. I knew where I was, locked in a room with no kitchen or food to cook him. “You should go,” I said, standing. My nudeness no longer mattered. I didn’t care that I was naked. I didn’t feel naked. I felt… I felt… disoriented.

  Mr. Nichols backed away from me. I don’t know how I knew, but I knew for whatever reason, I was messing up his plan. I didn’t mean to. I wanted to be good. I wanted to be good like Gia. I bet she wasn’t acting like this. He always did like her better. I didn’t want Gia to have him. Gia always got everything. I had to straighten up. I had to be good like Gia. I wanted to scream like Gia, too.

  Hearing the door lock, I sighed and turned to Cara. Picking her up, I walked to the window.

  “Now see what you’ve gone and done?”

  I held her, swaying back and forth, letting her know that I was there. I forgave her, and although she was bound to mess up, I was there. I’d always be there for her.

  I tried to talk myself rational on an hourly basis. Some things I did made me wonder what the hell I was doing? Like Cara. I mean the doll. I caught myself cradling her, rocking back and forth, humming several times. They were actions of an insane person I knew, but the feelings and emotions I had for that doll were real. I felt them. I felt the pain she felt of being left behind without so much as a goodbye. She didn’t deserve that. She was just a baby, a tiny, little, helpless baby.

  Other times, I’d catch myself drawing and drawing with the bag of broken crayons. I stood back, staring at the childlike artwork, knowing I did it without remembering. There were trees and birds, flowers and butterflies. I had been designing a mural for, well, I don’t know how many days. If Mr. Nichols was allowing me to bathe every three days as he had been. This would be nine days, or was it twelve? It didn’t matter anyway. What was time? What was the point in all of it?

  I kissed Cara on top of her sleeping little head and stared out my window. I hoped he came. I really wanted a bath. Cara needed one, too. No. Not Cara. I set her down on my bed. She was sleeping anyway. I shouldn’t hold her while she slept. It would spoil her.

  Thinking about the time, when time meant where and when to be at practice, a party, the mall, the movies, or Gia’s house, I stared toward the clearing. That was when time was important. Now it was nothing but a race. A race for deadlines, flights, work days, traffic, and cabs. Hurrying through life, that’s what it had become. And my finish couldn’t come fast enough. I was glad to be off the rat race. I liked it here. Cara liked it here, too. She seemed to be happier here.

  I sighed, thinking about it all, mostly her. She was all that mattered, right?

  It was our first Christmas together after I had met AJ. He was going one way and I was going another. I didn’t want him around my family yet. I wasn’t sure I ever would, but I was working on it. My mother kind of knew I was seeing someone, she just didn’t know we’d sort of moved in together.

  “I can’t stay away from you for an entire week. Come with me. We’ll split it up between our folks,” AJ begged.

  “I already told you, we’re traveling for the holidays. We’re not even going to be home,” I lied. “You’ll be fine, take your clothes off and send me off with the proper goodbye,” I ordered. We were both pretty drunk after the Christmas party at work, and I was in a manic hypersexual state, but I know for sure he put the condom on. I watched him.

  AJ was so good in bed. He was one of the few who could do that to me. Kyle was the first and Colton was the last. The handful in between were just fill-ins, needed to get the job done. Guys with no names. AJ and I said goodbye that Thursday morning at t
he airport. I missed him already. I would have much rather stayed there in the city with him. I didn’t want to be with my parents back home. I didn’t want to be in the house, the neighborhood, or anywhere near him.

  That was my last encounter with him, not AJ. I flew home to him a week later. I loved AJ. I just loved him more. Of course. The forbidden romance. A love nobody would understand. Things were just weird around there.

  Melanie and Kyle weren’t there anymore. The house was up for sale. It didn’t seem real. Gia’s house was being sold. It wasn’t right. We were supposed to be there together with our babies, not this, not any of this. The first thing I noticed was the empty windows, naked with no coverings. It felt creepy. That house was haunted just like mine would be. It wasn’t full of little girl giggles, secrets, and life. It was nothing but an empty shell now. Lifeless.

  I have to admit, Christmas was actually pretty good that year. I had AJ waiting on me back in Detroit, and I was happy. I needed him in my life whether I wanted to admit it or not. I planned on bringing him home if we made it another year. I was actually beginning to think we would, that I could actually pull this off. It was a long shot for me, but I let myself believe for just a minute that it was possible. It was refreshing, a conspiracy I couldn’t confuse. Good things are challenging and take hard work to get there. Bad things come easy and can be planned in an hour of anger. I was willing to work for it for the first time in my life, and I was willing to forget the bad thing planned out of anger and guilt.

  Maybe it was AJ, but I felt a little lighter that year, more so than I had in years. I hate to admit it, but I was happy. Even with all the things I was dreading, I was happy. I was okay being McKenzie Perry for the first time in my life. It was okay that I wasn’t a vital part of Mack and Gia. I was finally finding life after Gia, life after the night I couldn’t change, and life after Kyle.

  I could write Kyle out of all this. I wish I could, but just like the rest of the lies and secrets, Kyle and the unfortunate events, plays too big a role in the tangled web of deceit.