Whispering Minds

by A. T. O'Connor

  He chuckled softly. “You can’t force a memory, Gemi, or it becomes false. A trick of the mind, put there by your needs. It will come when you need it.”

  “That’s it?”

  He indicated the cup. “Drink up.”

  I settled in with the rabbit tucked under my arm and the picture across my lap. “I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble and for stealing Granny’s car. I’ll be gone tomorrow then you won’t have to worry about me anymore.”

  “And where will you go, my dear?”

  “Anywhere. I just want to start over.”

  “I knew a young man who ran away once. In the end, he came back. I think he learned there really is no such thing as starting over. No matter how much we wish to forget, we carry our pasts with us. Your father…”

  “…is not my dad, and I don’t want to talk about him.”

  “True, but to deny him is to deny your grandmother.” He glanced at the same portrait that had been in Trav’s house. The four generation picture of women. “Those are my loves. My wife. My daughter. My granddaughter. And little Abi.”

  My eyes fell to the picture on my lap.

  Clarence’s voice mirrored my thoughts. “Just as those are your loves.”

  “But Travis told me your family was gone.”

  “Travis is right. But gone does not mean forever.”

  Forever and always.

  “Abi is Travis’s niece. Catrina is his sister.”

  It unnerved me the way he used the present tense like they were still alive and still a part of Trav’s life when I knew they were dead. Killed in a car crash by a drunk driver.

  “And Jimmy?” I needed someone to tell me the answers that my parents and grandmother had not.

  Clarence sucked on his pipe and let the smoke and silence linger between us. “Would you prefer if your mom told you this?”

  I pushed the hair away from my eyes, looked again at the picture of Travis, Jimmy and me and considered Mom’s journey back to sobriety. It could be months before I’d get a straight answer. I needed them now. “No, I don’t think I can wait anymore.”

  “Jimmy is your brother.”

  That same present tense. My skin crawled and goose bumps popped out on my arms. I leaned closer to the fire to capture the artificial warmth. “I finally figured that out. Tonight, as a matter of fact. But how do you know this? How are we,” I waved my hand across the glass and the three carefree figures on the dock, “together?”

  Clarence rocked back in his chair. “Our families were very close. Two months after your father…after Dan was born, your grandfather passed away. Your father couldn’t deal with it, and at seventeen he left home. He didn’t return until he married and had a son.”

  “Jimmy.” The name came out a whisper.

  “Yes, Jimmy. For the first time, he and Sophia had a happy relationship. Two years later, we welcomed a little girl into their family.”

  “Me.”

  Clarence smiled. “Your grandmother was delighted when you were born. She had missed Jimmy’s birth. But you? She loved you before you were born. We all did.”

  “Everyone, but my dad.” It seemed there was no avoiding conversation about him.

  “Even your dad. He loved you and Jimmy very much and worked hard to provide the best for you both. When he was on the road, you and Jimmy would spend weeks at a time at Sophia’s. Travis, too. You three grew up together, catching tadpoles and cooking hot dogs over the camp fire. Your tree fort is still back in those woods somewhere. If it hasn’t fallen down yet.”

  And Abi. She’d been with us too. Playing dolls when the boys hunted and baking treats for us to share in the tree house. She’d also inherited her great grandfather’s gift of weaving captivating stories out of our adventures. The Great Turkey was one of our favorites.

  Travis and Jimmy had hunted the Great Turkey with their stick and yarn bows. What they brought to the tree house table was a handful of fall leaves they swore were feathers. To commemorate the successful hunt, my mom helped Abi and me knit the hat we later gifted to Clarence.

  Two of the four were gone, never to hunt or bake again.

  “What happened?”

  Clarence’s eyes flickered to the picture on the wall. “Everything changed after the car accident.”

  Pain stabbed my temple, and I closed my eyes. My dad’s words to Travis—“Hurt my daughter and I’ll hurt you.”—and in the hospital to Clarence—“What the hell are you doing here?”—came flooding back.

  In my mind’s eye, Sarah Stemple stood ramrod straight in another hospital in another time—“I was your case worker after your dad’s accident.”

  Clarence’s words sunk in, and my stomach rebelled. “My dad did it, didn’t he? He killed your family.”

  “Oh heaven’s no, child. They were two completely different accidents, both devastating in their own right. My girls were hit by a drunk driver on their way home from a play.” His voice came out softly, as if reliving the moment. He sipped from his mug before continuing. “Your father made a detour to the bar on his way home from the social service office. After leaving, he wrapped his truck around a tree.”

  “And he’s pretty much been drunk since.” My words barely made it past my frozen lips.

  Clarence nodded slightly, as if confirming my dad’s addiction out loud would be too much for me to handle.

  But I wasn’t thinking about my dad, the alcoholic; I was thinking of Jimmy. Leaving with my dad when I wouldn’t. If I had gone, things would have been different. I know they would have. We would have stopped for ice cream, not the bar. We always did.

  Jimmy got banana. Dad got licorice. I got strawberry.

  Every time we went to Granny’s.

  Every time.

  I squeezed the stuffed bunny and pictured Jimmy as I’d last seen him. From the closet to the front seat of our dad’s truck, broken and bleeding. The sound of Jimmy’s cries filled my mind as surely as they had filled the inside of that truck long ago. I’d lost my brother and my daddy that day.

  Why hadn’t I gone?

  Because he was angry. Very angry.

  “…allegations of sexual abuse.”

  The fire crackled in Clarence’s living room. His words slowly sunk in.

  “That’s a lie!” I shot from the chair, spilling the contents of my mug in the process. Hot liquid splashed across my bare arms. Red-hot anger burned around the edges of the gray fog. “I loved my brother, but not like that.”

  I brushed past Clarence’s outstretched hand and ran up the stairs, locking myself in the spare room. Instead of trying to stop the encroaching darkness, I welcomed the memory loss and invited it in like an old friend. If remembering was this painful, I’d happily forget.

  * * *

  Angel watched the volley between Rae and Fell. Never before had there been so much turmoil. The Dozen sank against the walls, trying to melt into the surroundings and escape the tempers that raged. Even Brutus withdrew.

  “Damnit, Rae. I told you she wasn’t ready.”

  Angel prayed for Fell’s soul and applauded Rae’s courage.

  “You can’t keep her locked up forever. You can’t keep us locked up forever. It’s time to let us go.”

  “She’ll die out there. Without me, she would have. I stopped her from downing any more pills.”

  Rae stepped over the train track and shoved her face up to Fell’s. “With you she almost died. You’re the gatekeeper, and you let Luna out when you knew it wasn’t safe. Gemi was doing just fine before you butted in.”

  “She was remembering too much.”

  “That’s healthy, Fell. She needs to remember so she can function on her own. Once she gets her memories back and understands everything, she’ll be fine.”

  “Understands what? That her dad abuses her mom because of her very birth? That her brother’s disappearance is her own fault? That she’s so messed up she completely forgot the single most important friend she ever had? Literally forgot him. Wiped his memory c
lean from her entire life? That’s a hell of a burden to bear, and one she’ll never recover from.”

  “Because you won’t give her a chance.”

  “It’s my job. If everything was fine she wouldn’t need any of us. Least of all me.” Fell glared around the room. Angel withered under the challenge, allowing Fell to keep the floor. “I will not relinquish control. I will not hand Gemi’s life to any of you. Until three months ago none of you had a clue. You slept quietly unless Gemini needed you for easy things.”

  “She just wants to grow up. There is nothing wrong with that.”

  “There is everything wrong with that.” Fell spread her anger around the room, casting an accusing eye over each of them. “I had everything under control until one of you ruined it. Somebody just had to sneak a letter out past me.”

  Angel gathered her courage. “Gemi did.” With my help.

  Fell turned on Angel. “Impossible. Gemi doesn’t do anything without me knowing. She doesn’t exist without me and neither do you.”

  Angel closed her eyes and offered up a silent prayer. Please, God. She didn’t mean it. Forgive her. Forgiveherforgiveherforgiveme. Please forgive me.

  The door to the yellow room slammed shut, but Angel didn’t dare pause her prayer long enough to see who slipped away. She only hoped that just this once, Gemi would break free of Fell’s hold and remember.

  Chapter 30

  I awoke at three in the morning and couldn’t fall back asleep. I snuck past Clarence’s closed door and headed to Medville. Despite the certainty that all the answers to my lost childhood were somewhere in Granny’s house, the drive did nothing to clarify what I was searching for. I channeled my energy on pulling out hidden memories, yet they didn’t come easily. If ever I needed my conscious and subconscious to work together, it was now.

  I stood in Granny’s house, wondering where to begin. Starting from the past seemed futile, so I worked from the present backwards. Clarence and I drinking hot chocolate after my dad assaulted Mom at Granny’s. In the hospital, the social worker questioning the incident before releasing me to Clarence.

  She’d said something about remembering her. I dug deeper to another time. Clarence in his office, telling me I’d known him forever. And Travis admitting he’d known Granny. Forever. That she’d always been in his life.

  Forever and Always.

  The words written like a mantra.

  The papers from the now-empty hope chest.

  But where had they gone?

  I pressed my fingers to my temples and willed the pulsing in my head to go away. To give me a clear memory of an event that happened less than a day ago. Even in my constant state of forgetfulness, I wouldn’t have left the papers out for my dad to find. I’d have stashed them somewhere safe. Somewhere only I knew about.

  I ran to my old bedroom, yanked back the covers and exposed the hidden latch. When I pulled it, the side panel of the headboard swung open. To my relief, everything was there. I pulled the papers out and stacked them together on the floor. I couldn’t stop the progression of memories any more than I could stop the train that ran through the yellow room. Jimmy’s room.

  One set of papers was thick. Child in Need of Protection or Services covered the top page in bold, black letters.

  THE STATE V. DAN BAKER

  Court file: CP-17-293-12

  Gemini Francine Baker

  Prepared by Sarah Stemple.

  Images of that same thin social worker asking the same thin questions flooded my mind.

  I skimmed through the pages, trying to understand the technical terms and the accusations that were more fairytale than truth.

  Dan Baker alleges sexual misconduct between the siblings, Gemini Baker and her older brother James. At the time of this report, neither child has confirmed that Gemini initiated inappropriate physical contact as reported by their father. However, a Child’s Voice interview with Gemini indicates the possibility of sexual abuse perpetrated on her by her brother, James.

  Their mother refutes any idea of sexual abuse between the children, claiming her husband made up the story to punish her for her past infidelity. She also believes it is a ploy for him to get custody of James while pushing her and Gemini out of the house.

  Tears burned my eyes. When he found out he wasn’t really my dad, he was done with both me and Mom. Only Jimmy was important to him.

  Compounding the issue is the parents’ heavy alcohol use and the resulting unstable home life, including domestic abuse and alleged physical abuse to Gemini. No findings have been made at this time, though investigations will continue into the matter.

  I hadn’t known there was a name for what my dad put Mom through, nor did I realize how bad it had been. Memories spilled forth of Mom icing black eyes and tending to cut lips, of wearing makeup to cover the bruising. Other bruises played out in my mind. My injuries, quietly tended to and covered just the same. I hadn’t inherited my mother’s clumsiness. I’d inherited my dad’s abuse.

  Furthermore, James has been aggressive and unpredictable due to his TBI. According to reports, Gemini appears afraid of him. When questioned, she stated, “He’s going to burn me on the railroad tracks.” Placement has been secured for James in a residential treatment facility to help him better cope with his behaviors.

  I didn’t know what TBI was or how you caught it. And nowhere in my memories could I find Jimmy hurting me. This had to be another lie created to rip my family apart.

  Dan Baker wishes to contest paternity of Gemini, despite a signed birth certificate stating him as her father and the fact that he raised her for the first six years as his child.

  He’d thrown me away. To him, I was as worthless as the trash he dumped in the burn barrel. Leftovers from a past he no longer wanted a part in.

  And finally, Sarah Stemple’s recommendations:

  1. It is asked that the Court enforce the paternity of Dan Baker for his daughter Gemini per the provision of the law, thereby holding him responsible for her well-being.

  2. Temporary custody of Gemini Baker shall be granted to her paternal grandmother, Sophia Baker, until the following provisions are completed to the satisfaction of the court.

  3. Gemini Baker shall have no contact with her brother, James, pending the outcome of this investigation.

  4. Dan Baker shall complete a chemical use assessment and abide by the treatment plan.

  5. Dan Baker shall attend anger management classes and abide by the recommendations.

  6. Dan Baker shall attend bi-weekly couples therapy and weekly family therapy to work on his personal relationships.

  7. Dan Baker shall attend parenting classes to learn appropriate parenting strategies and to better understand the needs of his children.

  Years of my life flashed by in those words.

  It was no wonder my dad was a drunk who wrapped his car around a tree. Sarah Stemple had planned to strip him of the only child he loved, while forcing him to go to court over the bastard child he despised. For the first time, I fully understood the depth of my father’s hate for his own mom. He despised her for being the parent he couldn’t or wouldn’t be. He hated the intrusion into his life. And, he hated the very idea of me.

  I’d lost years of my life to his uncontrolled anger. Years where I lived in a silent circle of my own making, pushing aside painful memories to cope with the trauma of losing my brother and my family. At six years old, I started over. I lived a happy life with Granny, completely oblivious to the turmoil that preceded it. I’d discarded my childhood—my brother—so I could live carefree.

  But then what happened? The answers to my move back in with my parents were not found in Sarah Stemple’s report. Too many uneventful years had passed between kindergarten and eighth grade for Sarah to care.

  I wondered what Travis thought when I returned from Medville a stranger to him four years ago after spending the first half of our lives as close friends. How could he even stomach looking at me, let alone befriending me? Or was I his pity pr
oject? Part of his journey to recovery after losing his own family to a drunken driver?

  I pictured the spider web on the smooth skin of his shoulder and felt that it had something to do with me. Was I the spider, capturing those he loved? Spinning my sticky web over everything and pulling it away from him and into myself? Or was it he who sat at the center of his web, trying desperately to weave the threads together in a way that made sense?

  I reached in the cubby hole for more papers. My hand closed around something soft, the dream catcher from Jimmy’s room. Its match hung from my window, and a third on Trav’s bedroom wall. I twined the silken cord of hair around my fingers, rediscovering Trav’s gift after all these years.

  I shivered uncontrollably at the thought of how much I had lost.

  With trembling fingers, I pulled open the silken envelope from Clarence’s office and fished out Granny’s letter. I bypassed the first page outlining my inheritance and read the familiar writing that slanted across the paper.

  I have so much to tell you, yet there is no easy way to do so, not with my promise to your parents. I hope by now Clarence has returned Fluff Bunny and released the memories you have locked away. Our hope is that this will guide your path to recovery. If not, please talk to Clarence. He knows your past as much as I do and is not bound by a promise to your parents like I was.

  By now I’m sure you are wondering why I have mentioned Clarence numerous times in this letter. He is my best friend, my love and my heart. Maybe someday you can understand those same feelings and forgive me for not sharing him with you sooner. He is a wonderful person. I hope you grow to love him the way I do.

  I know your journey will be difficult, but remember I am only a prayer away.

  Forever and always,

  Granny

  I read the letter. Read it a second time. It felt incomplete. As did the good-bye. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry and did a little of both before I pulled myself together.

  I dried my eyes and riffled once again through the papers from the cedar chest. Apparently, neither Mom nor I seemed to know or care that the other stashed information within the antique we had given away. It made me wonder who we were hiding them from. Though of course, we hid them from my dad and his temper, his anger at being robbed of his son, his alcoholic rages and his painfully sober depressions.