by Abe Moss
“Then by all means, you’re both welcome to leave. But this is where I like to walk. I’m just disappointed we can’t all get along.”
“We’re not leaving.”
“Then I guess we’re stuck hanging out together, after all.”
Emmett leaned toward Tobie, whispered in his ear. “Let’s just go home.”
“No,” Tobie said. “He’ll follow us if we do.”
The man, apparently reading their lips, cocked his head, perplexed.
“Follow you? Why would I want to follow you?”
“I don’t know, maybe because you’re a pervert or something?”
“Come on,” Emmett begged Tobie. “Let’s just go.”
“Yeah, maybe it’s time you two go home.” The man turned in a circle, furrowing his brow. “Wherever that is. Where are you two from, anyway?”
Fed up, Tobie bent and grabbed the first sizable rock he could find. He juggled it gently in his hand.
“I’ll throw this,” he said. “And I’m a good throw.”
The man played like he hadn’t heard, or didn’t see the rock at all.
“There’s a house up near here, isn’t there? Is it yours?”
Emmett didn’t bother whispering any longer. “Tobie, he’s not going to leave.”
“Then he’s gonna get a rock to the face.”
The man looked down at his feet, blowing air from his nostrils, defeated. That same stupid grin on his face…
“All right,” he said. “Take it easy. I’ll leave you alone…”
“Good,” Tobie said. “Because that’s a long walk down the mountain with a broken nose.”
“Just answer one question for me,” the man said, speaking seriously now. “One question, and you’ll never see me again.”
“We don’t live up here,” Tobie said. “I don’t know what house you’re talking about.”
The man wagged a finger at them. “I know better than that.”
“You must not, because—”
“The sooner you tell the truth, the sooner I walk away. All right?”
Tobie passed the rock from one hand to the other. “I am telling the truth.”
“You. Other boy.” The man nodded toward Emmett. “You want to go home, safe and sound, don’t you? Don’t be like your friend here. I just want to ask an innocent question. Please.”
“Don’t talk to him, Emmett.”
Emmett, wishing they could flee, looked between them both. He wished Tobie would finally lob his rock at the man’s head and send him fleeing instead.
“Is there a little girl up there with you?” the man asked.
It wasn’t quite the question either of them expected. All at once, the terrible anxiety fluttering inside Emmett turned to something else. It was cold and gripping, freezing his insides like a corpse in the snow. An epiphany. A sudden, inescapable sensation of impending doom.
“She’s only little. Probably no bigger than this…” He gestured with his hand at his hip. “Do you know her? Is she there, up at that house?”
Tobie shook his head so emphatically he turned his whole body side to side with it.
“I don’t know any little girls,” he said.
“She’d only be four now.” Suddenly the man appeared quite emotional. His face turned red as he held back whatever ailed him. “Are you sure you don’t know?”
“I don’t know any little girls, I said.” Tobie squeezed the rock. “There, I answered your question. Will you leave us alone, now?”
The man cried openly now. He gave them a curt wave, and turned back toward the creek. Emmett and Tobie stood in place for a moment, watching him until he carefully stepped his way across the creek and continued into the trees there. He never looked back.
“We’d better get home,” Tobie said. “We have to tell the others.”
“That was him,” Emmett said, speaking out loud to himself as they started back for the house. Tobie asked who he meant. Surely, Emmett thought, he must have known just as well. That sickening dread hadn’t gone away yet. Nor would it. Not for a long while.
“Bailey,” he said. “That was her dad.”
✽ ✽ ✽
“What were you doing out there by yourselves?” Mrs. Holmes was in her nightgown, though it was late afternoon. They’d informed Tyler first, who told Eileen, who then fetched her mother from upstairs. Now they all stood in the foyer while Mrs. Holmes tore into Emmett and Tobie for their trespasses. “I told you not to go back there.”
“That was months ago…” Tobie muttered.
“And you know you’re not to go out without Tyler.”
“I’m sorry, but…” Tobie paused. Emmett tensed, listening to their back and forth, waiting for the moment he’d say too much. “We’ve been stuck in this house all winter, Mrs. Holmes.”
“It could have been someone from the agency, for all we know!” Mrs. Holmes cried. “The instant they know I’m harboring children, they’ll be outside that door with handcuffs for me, and transports for the rest of you. Do you realize that? They will take you all away from here.” She turned on Tobie once more. “To a place much worse than this boring old house.”
Emmett saw the tears brimming in Tobie’s eyes, but he barely managed to hold them.
“Mom, stop.” Eileen stepped forward, arms folded. For as much time as she spent in her bedroom, she didn’t appear any more rested than her mother. Both of them looked exhausted, like they might collapse any moment. “They’re kids. They’ve been cooped up in this house for weeks…”
“Where were you?” Mrs. Holmes asked, pivoting on her daughter then. “You should have been keeping an eye on them!”
A suffocating silence hung over the foyer. Mrs. Holmes stood unmoving, unrelenting, her stare fixed on Eileen with the unshakable conviction that the blame she placed was warranted.
Eileen only blinked.
“I shouldn’t be here at all,” she finally said, voice wobbly. She took a breath. “It’s not my responsibility… I’m only… I’m only doing it for you. And you couldn’t be more ungrateful.”
“Ungrateful? Is that how you see it? Do you think you’re some kind of hero? Hmm? Have the last several years been lost on you? I took care of your father by myself. All this time. And even with that burden, I found the time to give these kids a home. None of that was easy. I’m so sorry that I’ve… that I’ve… needed your help, here and there. I’m so sorry that I inconvenienced you with Lionel’s death, and my—”
“He was my dad, too—”
“I know he was your father!” Mrs. Holmes moaned. “You know that’s not what I’m trying to say…”
“You’re blaming me for things…” Her voice trailed off, thoughts racing. “I’ve been here for weeks. Months, now, taking care of these kids… taking care of you. You have no right telling me… telling me…”
“Fine,” Mrs. Holmes said. “Fine. Just fine. You don’t have to do it anymore. You can leave whenever you’d like. No one ever forced you to take care of us. I’m sure you have plenty of… parties to get back to, or whatever it is you do in that town. I wouldn’t know what goes on down there. Not from up here.”
Mrs. Holmes gestured with her hands in the air, to the ceiling over their heads and the whole rest of the house around them. Then, without another word, she stomped her way upstairs to her bedroom.
Another silence was left in the wake of their argument. It was Jackie who broke it this time.
“Are you leaving?” she asked.
Eileen gave her a sad sort of smile. “No. I’m not leaving.”
But she wanted to, they all knew.
✽ ✽ ✽
That night after dinner, in search of some normalcy, the children asked Eileen if she’d read to them. So, she did. She took a seat in her mother’s chair, as usual, holding the book in her lap, eyes straining through a lack of sleep to make out the words. It wasn’t the same as it used to be, but each of the children had the unmistakable feeling it might be the last time, so they
enjoyed it as much as they could.
A third of the way through their story, Eileen was interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Turning, they spotted Mrs. Holmes, dressed in her nightgown, tiptoeing into view as she peeked into the reading room. She straightened when she saw them already watching.
“Oh,” she said. “You’re still here.”
“Of course I’m still here,” Eileen answered.
Mrs. Holmes only observed them for a moment. Her face was so tired and unexpressive, paired with the way she was standing, awkwardly quiet, it made Emmett wonder if she wasn’t sleepwalking.
“Do you need something?” Eileen asked.
Mrs. Holmes shook her head. “Not from you. Not right now.” Her hair was down, covering the sides of her face. She rubbed the side of her head, possibly forgetting why she came downstairs at all.
“Are you drunk?” Eileen asked.
“I’m not drunk,” Mrs. Holmes said, balking at the idea. “You know I don’t drink… That was your father, you’re thinking of…” She trailed off. She looked toward the kitchen, toward the hallway. The rest of the house was dark around them. “Are you all in there?”
Eileen sighed. “Yes, we’re all in here.”
“Is Tyler in there?” Tyler sat up, as though startled to hear his name. Eileen gave him a pensive look, one eyebrow raised. Mrs. Holmes called then, “Tyler?”
“Yeah? I’m in here.”
“Could I speak to you please? Upstairs?”
Appearing agitated, perhaps impatient, Eileen intervened. “Mom, we’re trying to finish this story. Can it wait until tomorrow? I don’t think Tyler’s interested in a talk right now. And… I think you need some sleep, anyway.”
“Please, Eileen, I’m not in the mood to be told what I need right now. This isn’t about you. I just need to ask Tyler something. It’ll only be a minute. Tyler?”
Unable to bear the tension, Tyler sprang to his feet, hands in his pockets, and stood in the doorway for Mrs. Holmes to see him fully. She lit up at the sight of him, though her eyes were still unable to do much but droop like her daughter’s. Perhaps they both needed to go to bed…
“Tyler…” Eileen said.
He looked over his shoulder, nodded for her to continue reading. “It’s fine… I’ll be right back.”
He joined Mrs. Holmes at the foot of the stairs, where they continued up together side by side. Once they were gone, Eileen sat for a moment, thinking. She propped the book open in her lap, and couldn’t bring herself to read. She took a deep breath.
“Good thing I am still here,” she muttered under her breath. “This is the first time you’ve come out of your bedroom since the afternoon…” She stared off for a minute, boring a hole into the ground beside her chair. Finally, she cleared her throat, propped the book open once more in front of her.
“Aren’t you going to do something?” Tobie blurted. “Don’t you know what they’re doing up there?”
It took Eileen a moment to absorb what he’d said.
“Tobie, no,” she scolded. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not being ridiculous. I’ve heard it. Them. You can even ask Emmett. He’s heard it, too.”
Emmett shrank in place, feeling Eileen’s eyes on him. Everyone’s eyes on him. All except Bailey, who napped peacefully beside them as usual.
“What are you saying?” Jackie asked.
“What do you think I’m saying? Tyler and Mrs. Holmes…”
“You can’t be serious.” Clark’s mouth twisted in revulsion.
“At first I thought he was sneaking out at night to see you.” He looked to Eileen. “But then you had a girlfriend, and… he was sneaking out on nights you weren’t here…”
Eileen shook her head. “Enough, Tobie.”
“If it wasn’t you we heard, then who else?”
Emmett’s fear told him to say nothing, that there was a chance he could be mistaken. Why did Tobie have to bring him along that night, he wondered? Stupid, perverted Tobie…
“Sometimes,” Emmett began, “when he comes back to bed at night… I can smell her perfume.”
Eileen’s eyes were narrowed, and Emmett burned with shame. He’d done a terrible thing. An immediate regret flattened upon him.
“What’s so important they need to talk about right now?” Tobie asked. “I mean, come on! I’m ten years old, and you don’t know?”
Whatever fatigue had possessed her before suddenly vanished. Her eyes glimmered with horror. Realization. She’d probably known it before, and was unable to lend the suspicion much thought. It was too awful…
She set the book on the floor beside her chair and got to her feet. Standing before everyone, she tried not to expose her panic.
“Everyone, stay here. Just…” She shuddered. “Just stay here.”
She left the room and they listened to her steps disappear upstairs, out of earshot.
What a horrible night, Emmett thought. Whatever chance there had been that things might get put back together eventually was hacked into a million more pieces.
Far away, swallowed up by the walls and corridors, Eileen’s voice cried out: “Oh my God!”
Emmett would hardly remember the rest. Aside from the shouting and the pleading, all he would truly remember of that night was how he and the other children waited by the front door as Eileen rushed through the house, grabbing what she could as her mother chased her room to room, begging to be heard. They waited by the front door because they knew that’s where Eileen was headed, and that’s where they’d get to tell her goodbye for the very last time.
CHAPTER NINE
HEAD TRAUMA
With her daughter out of the house and no one left to care for the children, Mrs. Holmes came out from hiding sooner than anyone expected. She never said much, and they avoided saying too much themselves. She didn’t eat with them. Or read to them. She avoided looking into their eyes, for fear of interpreting judgment there. Mostly she did what needed to be done, and then escaped back to her room as soon as she could.
✽ ✽ ✽
One evening after supper—another Mrs. Holmes prepared but didn’t attend—the children were startled by a sudden ruckus in the foyer. The dogs were at the front door, barking up a storm. One of them turned in anxious circles, howling at the ceiling. The other paced restlessly between the two windows on either side of the door, looking out at the night. The children observed them from afar, curious but afraid. Mrs. Holmes came downstairs to see what the commotion was. She commanded the dogs to be quiet.
“Tyler just let them out not that long ago,” Jackie said.
“It’s probably an animal outside.” Mrs. Holmes shooed the dogs away, and peeked through one of the windows herself. It was already dark out. She cupped her hands next to her face. “Where is Tyler, anyway?”
“Um…” Jackie paused. “I think he’s upstairs.”
“In our room,” Tobie added. “Where he’s been most of the day.”
Mrs. Holmes, barely acknowledging their answer, ordered the dogs upstairs, where she returned with them to her bedroom for the rest of the night.
✽ ✽ ✽
The following morning, Emmett stood with the others in the yard, watching as Tobie peeled bark off a tree under Jackie’s suggestion that tree bark possessed natural medicinal qualities.
“You’re a liar,” Tobie said, a long piece of bark in his hand.
“No, it’s true.” Jackie held a piece of her own, observing it. “People use it as a natural pain reliever. I read about it.”
“Use it how?”
“You eat it,” she said. “It helps with inflammation.”
“What about a headache?” Clark asked, he himself curious. “Eating bark would make a headache go away?”
Tobie burst out laughing. “I had no idea we were surrounded by a cure for Jackie’s existence.”
Even Jackie laughed at that.
As she further convinced her brother that he should eat the tree bark in
front of them, Emmett’s attention was pulled away by the sound of the front door. Across the yard, Tyler stepped outside, both of the dogs leading the way. They abandoned him immediately, chased into the trees with their noses to the ground as if they had a scent for something. Tyler watched carefully, as did Emmett. In no time at all, the dogs found something. They held it beneath their paws, pulled at it with their teeth.
“Hey!”
Tyler’s voice attracted the others’ attention as well now. He hurried down the porch steps, chasing toward the trees. He waved his arms, making loud, angry sounds in an attempt to shoo them. They only scarfed it down faster, whatever it was, so that by the time he arrived, it was gone. The children watched as Tyler pried the dogs jaws apart, as though he might still be able to get it back.
“What’s happening?” Clark asked.
“The dogs found something,” Emmett said. “They’re eating it.”
Jackie groaned. “Gross… I bet it was a dead animal…”
Fed up with them both, Tyler ordered the dogs back to the house.
“Get! Back inside! Get!”
He chased them up the porch steps, into the house, where he slammed the door shut behind him. The children exchanged bewildered glances.
“I wouldn’t let them lick you any time soon,” Tobie said, and continued chewing on a piece of bark.
✽ ✽ ✽
It wasn’t but a couple hours before the dogs were sick. They paced the house, whining in low voices. One of them vomited a thick foam in the foyer near the front door. After, it lay under one of the windows there, crying quietly with its head between its paws. Tyler, fearing the worst, cleaned up the vomit with tears in his eyes. Emmett watched, disgusted and heartbroken all at the same time.
“Emmett?” Tyler said, smearing his blurry eyes against his arm. “Do me a favor and… get me another damp cloth from the kitchen, would you?”
Emmett did as Tyler asked. He returned with the damp cloth and hesitated, listening as Tyler sniffled helplessly. He offered it to him without a word. Tyler took it, trying to smile as he did.
