Little Emmett

by Abe Moss

  When the other boys made their way to bed, Emmett had the bathroom to himself. However, even alone he found it hard to concentrate. As he brushed the same row of teeth time and time again, his anxious thoughts pushed and shoved for their place at the front of the line. His hand slowed. The bristles rested foamy on his teeth. His eyes sank below the mirror, beyond the mirror…

  There her car was again, blending into the trees the farther away it got. He hit rewind, and saw her with his bag over her shoulder, stumbling toward him across the clearing. He tried rewinding further and further, until he managed to get back in the car. They were both back in the car. They were going backwards, backwards, backwards down the mountain. The Holmes house disappeared out of sight up ahead… reversing, reversing, reversing…

  “You doing okay, Emmett?”

  He pulled the toothbrush from his mouth. Toothpaste dripped from his chin and he wiped his arm across his lips. Mrs. Holmes watched him from the doorway.

  “I’m almost done…”

  “Don’t mind me,” she said. “Remember where to find me if you need anything. Just down the hall. Sleep well.”

  When he finished, he flipped the light off and scurried quickly down the hall toward their bedroom door—that tense, giddy feeling through his body as he fled the swelling darkness. He stepped inside, shut the door quietly behind himself, and tiptoed to his bed. He undressed in the dark and climbed into bed where the sheets were cold and smooth.

  For the first several minutes they all lay in silence. Emmett listened as the house made sounds—noises in the ceiling above, groans in the walls. Big and empty and mysterious. Then someone spoke. It sounded like Tobie, but Emmett didn’t hear what he said. Tyler responded. Pretty soon they were all chatting. Emmett listened here and there between his own ponderings. They were talking about the woods… about a fort in the woods…

  He heard his name in their conversation and held his breath. A pause. One of them said his name again, speaking to him. Asking for him.

  “I think he’s asleep.”

  “Or pretending to be.”

  Whatever they thought, that was all right. He lay very still until they resumed their nighttime chattering. Soon they would sleep, and maybe he would, too. Maybe he’d dream about something good.

  Then the sun would rise in the morning and another day would come. Rinse and repeat. Another night. Another day. That’s what he saw when he looked into the future. And what then?

  What then, he wondered?

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  He didn’t fall asleep soon enough. He waited and listened as all the others fell asleep one by one. The furnace kicked on down below and scared him wide awake once as he was managing to start drifting. That was his last chance. In the dark, he fished his bag out from under his bed and searched inside until he felt the cold chain tangled around his fingers. He pulled it out, lay back on his pillow, and played with the pendant on his chest.

  When we’re away from each other, even if you can’t see me, I’ll always be right here. So long as you carry this, we’ll be together, and I’ll be watching over you, keeping you safe.

  Before the waterworks could start again, he bunched the pendant and chain up in his fist and stuck it back into his bag. He peered around the room, at the other beds and the sleepers therein. Moonlight slanted through the single window over Tyler’s bed, pooled over the floor like milk on the wood. Gently, Emmett climbed out of bed and put his clothes back on. As he pulled his shirt over his head, there came a sound from behind. Jerking his head in that direction, he saw nothing. He pulled his blankets up, halfway tidying the bed. He bent and picked up his bag. Sleepy and tired after a long day, he had that much harder a time carrying it to the bedroom door. He set it down softly, cracked the door enough to put his head through. The hallway was quiet as a crypt.

  “Emmett?”

  He turned around, cast his eyes over the room.

  “What are you doing?” the voice whispered. It was Clark. He was sitting up in bed, one hand rubbing the side of his face. “Where are you going?”

  Without lifting, Emmett held the strap of his bag in his hands, contemplating whether he needed to give any response at all. He could just keep walking, couldn’t he? Clark wouldn’t come after him. Not the boy he’d only known for a day.

  “I’m going home,” Emmett answered.

  “Home?” Clark looked around at the others, verifying they were asleep. “Don’t you know where we are? We’re… nowhere. You won’t get anywhere but lost.”

  “I don’t care,” Emmett said stubbornly.

  Clark sighed. “You can’t hike down the mountain by yourself in the middle of the night.”

  “I don’t care, I said. I’ll… start now, and get a head start.”

  Clark made a low sound, hesitant to say something else.

  “I wouldn’t go out there if I were you,” he said. “And I don’t mean the woods.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I wouldn’t go walking around this house at night.”

  Emmett felt a chill, and suddenly the hallway beside him felt dangerously unknown.

  “Why?”

  “Because…” Clark looked one last time at the other beds, afraid someone else might be awake and listening. “There are ghosts.”

  “No there aren’t.”

  “Yes. I’m telling you, there are.”

  Emmett shook his head. “My mom believes in ghosts, and she’s crazy.”

  Just then the house gave another of its witching-hour groans. A floorboard in the hall creaked. Hoping Clark wouldn’t notice, Emmett nudged the door so that it was almost shut.

  “And if you think this house is scary at night… don’t even think about going out in the woods.”

  “I’m not scared,” Emmett lied.

  “Listen. Give it another day. Then, if you still want to leave… I won’t try and stop you.”

  “You’re not stopping me now.”

  Clark didn’t say anything more and he didn’t have to. He’d succeeded. Emmett, defeated, carried his bag back to bed. He undressed again and climbed under the blankets, pulled them up to his chin. He eyed Clark’s bed to see if he watched, but Clark’s back was turned, sleeping like their conversation had meant nothing.

  And now that he was back in bed, Emmett had to admit he would never have left in the first place. He may have made it to the head of the stairs, probably not much farther. He’d have realized it on his own by then. He couldn’t go home. Home didn’t exist. Not now. And he couldn’t run away. Because the things he felt inside, that he was afraid of, the things he was running from…

  …those things, you couldn’t escape.

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHILDREN’S STORIES

  Let him sleep.”

  Emmett woke as the other boys got out of bed. He listened as they dressed, as they shuffled to the bedroom door. He listened as they paused around him, studied him, whispered about him.

  “Whatever. I’m hungry.”

  Tobie and Tyler left. Clark remained. Emmett felt him standing, waiting.

  “I know you’re awake,” Clark said. “You don’t have to come downstairs for breakfast if you don’t want. It’s up to you. But… you might as well start getting comfortable around here.”

  With that, he left Emmett alone.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Emmett stayed in bed a while longer. The longer he lay, the more he felt he could stay that way. Perhaps if he didn’t adjust, eventually Mrs. Holmes would have no choice but to give him back to his mother. Or… if his mother wasn’t around anymore… then…

  The door opened and someone stepped inside. He lay extra still. Footsteps traveled to his bed. Hesitated. Someone sat down next to him. His cot gave a slight squeal. A hand touched his shoulder. A flowery fragrance wafted over him, pleasant and calming.

  “Emmett?” came Mrs. Holmes’ firm voice. “Are you awake?”

  He wondered how silly it might be if he continued pretending he wasn’t.
>
  “Yes,” he said.

  The hand on his shoulder rubbed him comfortingly. “Is there a reason you’re still in bed?”

  “I’m tired.”

  “Mmmm.” She gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “Perhaps some food might give you the energy you need. Think so?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Really? Why do you think you’re so tired, then?”

  His thoughts raced, searching for a valid excuse. He gave up. “I want to go home.”

  Mrs. Holmes sniffed. “Yes. I thought so.” She thought for a bit. “Emmett… I want to be honest with you. For your own good. Would that be okay?”

  Curious, he rolled onto his back to see her. He nodded in agreement.

  “You don’t have a home to go back to anymore.”

  “I know,” he said, and saw she was surprised to hear him say it.

  “Then why all this fuss?”

  “Because I want to. I know I can’t, but… I want to…”

  “It’s hard at first, isn’t it?” She swiveled, positioned herself to face him better. “I can tell you it’ll be hard for a few more days. Maybe even a week or two. But eventually, here won’t be so bad. You’ll feel comfortable soon. You’ll see.”

  “I want my mom.”

  “I know you do. She only did what she thought was best for you. It isn’t safe where she’s going, and if you were with her, well… they’d have taken you from her anyway.”

  “Who would?”

  Mrs. Holmes took a deep breath. “The people in charge of things. Whether it’s true or not, they think there’s something wrong with your mom. In her head.” Mrs. Holmes tapped her temple three times. “The world is afraid of people like that. People with problems up here.” She tapped some more. “Their fear has become so extreme, they figure the only way to stop it is to keep those people away from the healthy ones. That way… there’s less chance of more people being brought into the world with the same problems. Assuming it’s all genetic, of course…”

  “Genetic?”

  She smiled. “Passed down from your parents. You know, like how I’m sure your eyes might look a lot like your mother’s or your father’s eyes…”

  Emmett had to think about that. “I don’t know what my father’s eyes look like.”

  “You never met him?”

  “No.”

  Mrs. Holmes seemed to understand just fine. “Well then, your mother did a swell-enough job on her own, didn’t she?”

  “Do you think my mom had problems?”

  “Oh, well, I didn’t really know your mother, to be honest.”

  “Then why did she bring me to you?”

  Mrs. Holmes laughed. “I know a friend of a friend of your mother’s, I guess you could say. But if your mother did have problems…” She got close to him then, so they were eye to eye. “I don’t think they were anything for you to worry about. You seem just fine to me.”

  “What will happen to her?”

  She straightened, hands in her lap. How honest was she willing to be?

  “Do you know what an asylum is? That’s where the people with head troubles go. There, they get studied and given drugs and tests to try and learn more about the illnesses. Anything more than that, I couldn’t tell you for sure. They’re pretty tight-lipped about it, and… these days, it’s rather taboo to speak of.”

  “Taboo?”

  “Makes people uncomfortable.”

  “Oh.”

  They shared each other’s company in silence for a minute or two. Mostly Mrs. Holmes’ watched as Emmett’s little sponge of a brain processed the things she’d said.

  “I’ll tell you a secret, too, if you like,” she said. He was interested. “Lionel, my husband… you met him briefly yesterday with the dogs, didn’t you? Well… he might not seem it now, but he used to be a very important businessman. He still owns his own business. It’s how we afford this big house, up here on the mountain. Anyway, these days he’s not feeling so great, either. Up here.” Again with the head tapping. “And if anyone found out, they might take him from me. And you know what else? They wouldn’t stop there. They’d take his brothers, too. And if he had sisters, they’d take them as well. Then they’d take our daughter.”

  “You have a daughter?”

  “I do. You’ll meet her eventually.”

  “Why would they take them?”

  “Because that’s how they’ve chosen to deal with the problem, Emmett. If there’s any chance the rest of his family has the illness… their line must end. All the affected branches on the family tree, so to speak. Weed out the illness. And some might argue, ‘well, why not just take away the ability to have children? Let them live their lives normally aside from that’ and I guess I’d agree that would be a better alternative to what we have now, but…” She laughed very suddenly. “I’m ranting. I’m sure that all goes right over your head.”

  Emmett shrugged.

  “The truth is, the people in charge care more about studies and experiments than about people’s lives. They tell us it’s for our future, for the good of humanity, but everyone knows there are less destructive ways, if that were the case…” Mrs. Holmes stood from the bed, smoothed the front of her outfit. “But I’m ranting again. You’re a seven-year-old boy, you should be downstairs playing with the other children, don’t you think?”

  Emmett thought about it. He knew he’d likely join them. His stomach was doing its best to convince him, as well.

  “I guess so.”

  Mrs. Holmes gave him a warm smile. “I wish it could be different, too, Emmett. But, with that said… I’m glad your mother brought you here. I feel as though we were meant to meet.” She gave a light kick to his bag on the floor. “Get dressed and meet me downstairs in the kitchen. I’ll warm up some breakfast.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  After he was finished eating—reheated eggs and bacon from earlier that morning—Mrs. Holmes informed him he should join the children outside. As he put his shoes on and started for the door, he overheard Bailey in the kitchen, crying. She wanted to come as well, but as Mrs. Holmes put it, “You’re not big enough yet to go wandering with the big kids. You’ll have much more fun here with me.”

  Emmett stepped out onto the front porch and shut the door behind him. The nippy autumn air stung his cheeks. He turned around and saw the others out in the gloomy, overcast yard—all watching him.

  “It’s about time!” Tobie yelled.

  Emmett shuffled to them on nervous legs. Clark came to meet him halfway.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Clark said. “He likes to joke. Sometimes too much.” He touched the bruise around his eye. “Are you coming with us?”

  “Did you guys wait for me?” Emmett asked.

  “Sure did.”

  Together they joined the rest of the group.

  “Is he coming with us?” Jackie asked Clark. Clark nodded. “Do you know where we’re going?”

  Emmett shook his head.

  “We’re building a fort,” she said. “Out in the middle of the woods.”

  “No, we’re building a fort,” Tobie corrected. “My sister is watching us build a fort.”

  “I can help.”

  “Yeah, I know, but you won’t.”

  Jackie scoffed. Tyler, the oldest, started off ahead of them all and they followed. They rounded the side of the house, behind it, where Tyler grabbed a shovel that leaned against the siding, and continued into the trees down a gradual slope. The ground was covered in pinecones and pine needles.

  “What kind of fort?” Emmett asked.

  “Underground,” Jackie said. “We’re digging a big hole, deep enough for us, and then making a ceiling out of branches and things.”

  The thought of digging a big hole sent Emmett’s stomach somersaulting, but he didn’t complain.

  They walked in a straight line through the trees until they came to a shallow creek. From there, they followed the creek downstream. The other kids talked most of the way a
nd Emmett was happy enough to listen without getting too involved. The more he listened, the funnier he found them. Tobie especially, while not the friendliest, had a strong sense of humor. Emmett tried not to laugh at anything Clark didn’t.

  “Your mom brought you here, didn’t she?” Jackie asked Emmett. “Did you have friends where you were before?”

  Emmett shrugged. “Kind of. School friends.”

  “Oh. Yeah, Tobie and I had school friends, too.”

  “That’s the one good part about this place,” Tobie added. “No more homework!”

  “Irene tries to teach us things sometimes, though. She’s worried we’ll end up dumb, being stuck here forever.” Jackie sighed. “I actually kind of miss school.”

  “You would.”

  “Because I actually have a brain,” she retorted. She scoffed at her brother. “What about you, Tyler? Do you miss school?”

  Tyler, still leading the way, shrugged and mumbled something.

  “He’s been here the longest out of any of us,” Jackie explained. “Five years, isn’t it?”

  “We’ve been here two years,” Tobie said.

  “And Clark,” Jackie said, “got here a couple weeks after us.”

  There was a sinking feeling, realizing he could be there for that long. Moment by moment, it was becoming clearer that this wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t temporary. This was where he lived now… He tried not to think about it too much.

  “What about Bailey?” Emmett asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” Jackie remembered. “Almost a year, I think? Until you, she was the newest.”

  “Who was crazy in your family?” Tobie asked. Emmett was speechless at first.

  “That’s none of our business,” Jackie said. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.”

  “My mom,” Emmett said.

  Tobie made a big ‘O’ with his mouth, eyes big. “Who was that who brought you yesterday? She looked really young. Was that your mom?”

  Emmett started to speak when Jackie interrupted.

  “Our older brother started everything,” Jackie said. “He was sick, and then before you know it our parents were trying to hide us somewhere before they got taken away with him. Schizophrenia. We might have it, too. Just… not yet. Our brother, he’s like… twenty years old now?”