The Hidden

by Jessica Verday

  The doorbell rang as I was frantically digging through the junk drawer looking for the card that I knew Mom had stashed in there somewhere, and a second later there were voices coming from the foyer.

  “Won’t you come in?” I heard Mom say. “Let me go get Dennis, my husband. He’ll be so pleased to meet you. It’s wonderful of you to come introduce yourself to us.”

  Mom stuck her head in as she passed the kitchen, and said, “Abbey, would you please come meet Deacon Dwayne from Saint Paul’s Pentecostal Church? He’s new in town.”

  “Yeah, in a minute, Mom. I’m looking for something. Do you know where Sophie and Kame’s business card is? I thought it was in the junk drawer.”

  She crossed over to the fridge. “I moved it up here. Let’s see …” She scanned rows of pizza coupons and Chinese take-out menus. “I don’t see it. Must have fallen. Or maybe I put it in my purse.”

  Dad’s voice echoed out to us as he greeted the deacon, and Mom got distracted. “Oh, good. Your father’s in the living room. Come with me for just a minute, and then I’ll find your card.”

  She grabbed my hand, and I reluctantly followed. I hoped that the deacon wasn’t expecting fancy church clothes or anything, because I wasn’t changing on his behalf. “Don’t forget. I need that card!” I whispered. She nodded absently and kept pulling me behind her.

  Dad was sitting on one end of the couch, with the deacon on the other end, and Mom hurried forward to fill the space in between. I ground to a halt, and my feet froze to the floor when I came face to face with him.

  “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Deacon Dwayne,” Mom gushed. “I’d like you to meet my daughter, Abbey.” The deacon nodded benignly at me, his stiff black and white outfit barely allowing his head to move.

  But he was no man of God. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

  Deacon “Dwayne,” indeed. I see what you did there, Vincent Drake. I narrowed my eyes at him and refused to sit.

  “Don’t be rude, Abbey,” Mom prodded. “Come say hello.”

  “Do not be shy, my child,” Vincent intoned in a gentle voice. “Come and sit with us.”

  A million thoughts ran through my head, but I couldn’t pin any of them down. Caspian was here, but he couldn’t help. I didn’t have Sophie and Kame’s card, and I didn’t even know how to get a hold of Uri or Cacey.

  “Come and sit,” Vincent instructed again. “Fellowship with us.”

  “No, thanks,” I said coolly. “I can fellowship from here.”

  “Have you not heard of the great scripture that says thou shalt honor thy father and mother?” he replied.

  Mom nodded her head vigorously.

  “Honor. Them.” Vincent said, a hard edge in his voice. He moved one hand just a tad bit closer to Mom. Ever so slightly.

  I don’t think Mom or Dad even noticed it, but I did. It was a menacing move. There was definitely a threat there.

  I walked over to the easy chair opposite Vincent and sat down. The seat seemed to rush up to catch me, and it surprised me.

  “Now we are all one happy family,” Vincent said, a pleasant smile on his face. “The Lord is pleased.”

  How long was he going to keep up this act? And why was he even bothering to put on such a charade?

  “So, are you enjoying Saint Paul’s?” Mom asked. “It’s such a beautiful church.”

  “Oh, yes, it is. And they have wonderful youth services. I find myself very much drawn to ministries that help the children,” Vincent replied, with an evil smile at me. “Young, wayward innocents are pressed upon my heart.”

  I gave him a dirty look.

  “Yup, they have good kids’ programs there,” Dad offered. “Some of the best around.”

  “But it’s not like they have them because they need them,” Mom interjected. “Our kids are very well behaved here in Sleepy Hollow.”

  Vincent steepled his fingers and adopted a concerned expression. “Are they? I must say, I have heard … concerning things. About drug use, and teens becoming sexually active at such a young age.”

  Evil. He is pure evil.

  Mom looked shocked, and Dad wouldn’t meet my eyes. I guess the term “sexually active” was more than he wanted to think about.

  “No,” Mom said. “Our kids don’t get involved in such things.”

  “Wonderful, wonderful.” He looked concerned again. “What about other issues? Mental illness? Suicide?” Now Mom wouldn’t look at me, and Dad cleared his throat loudly.

  “Do you know anyone who has been personally affected by such a thing, Abbey?” Vincent directed the question to me.

  What I wouldn’t give to punch you in your lying smarmy face right now … “Nope. Like Mom said, we’re all healthy, well-adjusted kids. Say, how are things going with the Catholics? They seem to be having problems right now, right? Maybe you could go help them out.”

  Mom gasped, and Dad finally looked at me long enough to frown. One side of Vincent’s mouth pulled up in a smirk. And then it was gone.

  “I must confess, I do not know how things are handled by the Catholic churches. I’m kept very busy looking after my own flock. I consider myself a shepherd in training, and I find that many of my sheep need … a certain kind of hands-on attention.”

  He cracked his knuckles, and the sound made my skin crawl.

  Staring at him hard, I made a silent vow. I am not going to let you get away with this. “How long have you been with the church, Deacon Drake?” I said sweetly. “In general. I know Mom said that you were new in town.”

  “I fear that I have lost count how many years it has been. Or how many lives I’ve touched.” His smile widened, and he licked the corner of his lips. “And it’s Deacon Dwayne.”

  “Oh, did I get it wrong? I could have sworn that you said Drake.”

  Mom looked back and forth between the two of us with a slightly bewildered expression on her face. “Would you like some coffee? Tea?” she said to Vincent. “I’d be more than happy to make some.”

  “Actually, I have another appointment that I’m going to be late for if I don’t leave now. So I will bid my farewells and say that I hope to meet again soon.”

  He stood up and shook Dad’s hand, then turned to Mom. Being sure to angle himself so that I could get a full view, he leaned in to give her a hug with both arms. His hands lined up directly with her throat and he cast me another glance.

  Mom! I wanted to scream. Get away from him! He’s the one who attacked me! But I couldn’t tell her. Who knows what he might have done then.

  “It was very nice to meet you, Abigail,” he said, pulling away from her. I noticed the use of my proper name. “You have lovely parents here. I would give thanks to God every day for such wonderful people in my life. Our time on this earth is so fleeting. You never know when their time could be up. Even this day might be their last.”

  And with that subtle death threat, he walked out the front door.

  I flew up to my room as soon as Mom found Sophie’s card, and I dialed the number as fast as I could. Caspian was still asleep on the bed. I was starting to worry about him even more. All those times he’d described being pulled down into the dark place of sleep to make time pass faster didn’t sound like a good thing.

  What if he couldn’t find his way back?

  I paced beside him, silently willing Sophie or Kame to pick up their phone. It rang and rang and rang, and I was just about to leave an urgent voice mail, when Sophie picked up.

  “Sophie?” I exploded. “It’s Abbey. Vincent’s here. Or was here. He dressed like a priest, and was threatening my parents, and Caspian won’t wake up.”

  “Slow down. Slow down,” she said. “What’s going on? Vincent is there?”

  “Yes. No. I mean, he was here, but he’s not now. He just came by and stopped to talk to Mom and Dad.” I told her what had happened. “I don’t think they even realized what was going on. But I did.”

  Sophie swore. “We’ll be right over.”

  “S
omething’s wrong with Caspian too,” I blurted out. “He won’t wake up.”

  She was silent, and it didn’t give me a good feeling.

  “So-Sophie?” I asked. “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, sweetie. I’m here.”

  “What’s happening to Caspian?”

  “I think it would be better if we waited until we could talk in person.”

  “No! I think it would be better if you told me right now.”

  “I can’t—” She exhaled loudly. “Just wait. We’ll be right over.”

  The phone went dead, and I stared at it. It wasn’t a good sign that she didn’t want to tell me what was going on. Was this just normal we-cannot-say Revenant stuff? Or was there something more to it?

  Ten minutes later Kame, Uri, and Cacey were in my room.

  “Is everything okay?” Kame asked. “Are you hurt?”

  I shook my head. “Everything’s fine. Well, as far as me and Mom and Dad go. Caspian, I’m not sure about. Where’s Sophie? And what are you going to tell Mom and Dad?”

  “She’s downstairs talking to them,” Cacey said with a grin. “She’s good at making things up.”

  Uri moved toward the bed. He pointed to himself, and I nodded. Then he sat down next to Caspian. He laid one hand on Caspian’s arm, and I desperately wanted to trade places with him. To be the one who could touch Caspian, and wake him up.

  But I couldn’t.

  “This happened once before,” I said. “He was supposed to pick me up from school and he never showed. When I got home, he couldn’t even remember where he was.”

  Uri glanced over at Kame. Then shook his head.

  “What’s going on?” I cried, dangerously close to tears. “Please. Just tell me.” I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take all their secrets and things they wouldn’t say.

  “You have to realize that there’s not much we can do,” Kame said. “This is an abnormal situation, and we’re still all learning the best way to deal with it.”

  “Abnormal because of Vincent? Because he caused Kristen’s death?”

  He inclined his head.

  “Or is this the abnormal part? Him hanging around me, stalking me, dressing up like a priest?”

  “His … interference … is the abnormal part.”

  “So, then, what’s going on with Caspian? Shades don’t sleep, right?”

  “It’s not a normal sleep,” he replied.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that we can’t wake him up, Abbey,” Cacey said.

  She was standing next to the window, and I looked over at her, stunned. Then I looked at Uri. “She’s making that up, right? Tell me that it’s just her idea of a cruel joke.”

  “It’s not a joke. We have no control over this,” he confirmed.

  I crossed my arms. “But I thought you guys were these mystical beings who were sent here to help Shades and their other halves. So help us.”

  Uri stood up and went to talk to Kame quietly. He kept glancing over at Cacey, and I got the feeling that she was being let in on the conversation too. Eventually Kame said, “Fine. I’m going to let you handle this. I’ll be downstairs.”

  He shot them both a final look before he left.

  “We think it would be best if we took Caspian with us,” Uri said, turning to face me. “We want to take him someplace safe.”

  “That’s fine. Where are we going?”

  “Him. Not you,” Cacey said. “You can’t go.”

  “Oh, yes, I can.”

  “Oh, no, you can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Vincent doesn’t want the two of you to be completed. We haven’t found out why yet, but it’s what he wants. We need to be able to keep an eye on Caspian for as long as he’s like this, and it will make it easier for all of us if you aren’t there with him. Why draw Vincent to us?”

  “But … but …” I couldn’t think fast enough. Couldn’t put together my words. They couldn’t take Caspian away from me! “But what if Vincent finds you?”

  “He won’t,” Uri said.

  “What if Vincent finds me?”

  “We’ve got that covered,” Uri replied. “How do you feel about a short road trip?”

  “A trip? While Caspian stays here? No.”

  Cacey moved closer and stuck her face right into mine. “Look, Uri is trying to say this a hell of a lot nicer than I am, but we’re taking Caspian whether you like it or not. The way I see it, you don’t have much of a choice.” She looked down at her fingernails and picked at one of them. “Besides, if you come with us, you might even find something out.”

  She dangled that carrot of information in front of me on a well-practiced hook, and I couldn’t say no. The chance to finally get some answers? I couldn’t pass that up.

  “Fine. I’ll go with you. Just tell me one thing, where are we going?”

  “Gray’s Folly.” Cacey looked gleeful as she practically rubbed her hands together. “An insane asylum.”

  Cacey told me that we’d only be staying overnight, so I packed a T-shirt, some jeans, and a couple of toiletry items in a small bag while she went downstairs with Uri. When she returned half an hour later, she said, “Okay. We’re all set. You’re officially spending the weekend at my house for a sleepover.”

  I glanced over at Caspian worriedly. “Kame, Sophie, and Uri are going to take care of him while we’re gone?”

  “Yup. Although it’s going to be just Kame and Sophie. Uri’s our driver.”

  “And why are we going to an insane asylum?”

  “Looking for someone.”

  I didn’t know if that meant we were going to be looking for a patient or for someone who worked there, but I decided to let it go for now. Reluctantly I shouldered my bag. Bending down near Caspian’s ear, I whispered, “I love you. You’re in good hands. I’ll be back soon, and you’ll be awake then.” I hope.

  I wasn’t really sure about that, but with Caspian in this vulnerable state, I’d much rather have him be with the Revs who could take care of Vincent, instead of just me. “So tell me again why we can’t stay here and just have you guys watch over us?” I asked.

  “Too many questions.” Cacey shook her head. “Our mind mojo is good and all, but after a while there would be too much to explain to your parents. Plus, do you really want Vincent coming back here again?”

  “Right. Okay. Good point.” I looked over my bedroom. “Then, I think I’m ready. Can you tell me where Kame and Sophie will be taking Caspian, at least?”

  “Better if I don’t. Trust me.”

  My face fell.

  “Awwww, cheer up,” she said, steering me down the stairs. “You’ll forget all about it soon. I got us a road trip surprise. A twenty-four-pack of delicious Coke-a-Cola!”

  Yay. That makes everything soooo much better … I smiled weakly at her and allowed myself to be directed downstairs.

  I said a quick good-bye to Mom and Dad and then went outside to the Jetta. “How far away is it?” I asked, settling myself in and buckling my seat belt.

  “About three hours. Upstate. Shouldn’t take long,” Uri replied.

  Cacey was already opening a Coke and happily slurping away before we even pulled out of the driveway. She offered me one once we hit the highway, and I took it. I didn’t want it, but God forbid I tell her that.

  Time slipped away along with the scenery, and eventually I saw a sign that read MENTAL HEALTH FACILITY 20 MILES AHEAD. Then another stating it was ten miles ahead, and another for five. At the one-mile mark I started to get a little bit nervous.

  It was late afternoon when we arrived, and big rusted gates, one side emblazoned with an ornate G, the other with an F, blocked the way in front of us as the car came to a stop. Uri rolled down his window and said something to the guard that I couldn’t hear. The guard nodded and checked his clipboard to confirm whatever Uri had told him. Then he waved us in.

  A series of gray buildings came into view, like oversize blo
cks. Two small ones on the left, two small ones on the right, and a giant one in the middle. Barbed wire covered sections of the high walls at the top, and spotlights were installed in every corner.

  “Looks like a prison,” I muttered.

  “It was,” Cacey said. “Once. In 1825 it was built to hold all the prisoners that were waiting on death row. Then in 1943 someone thought it would be a good idea to turn it into a mental health facility for the criminally insane. Over the past twenty years or so they’ve expanded into accepting all sorts of people with mental illnesses and diseases.”

  “Lovely.” Exactly the type of place where I wanted to spend my weekend. “And we’re here to see someone?”

  Uri pulled the car forward and found a parking spot. “Yup.”

  “A patient, or a facility worker?” I asked.

  “Not sure yet.”

  Okay …

  A nurse came to greet us as we got out of the car, and Uri went to speak to her. She shook her head, then ushered us into this weird little side building. It looked like a guesthouse or staff living quarters, because it was filled with half a dozen tidy little rooms.

  “Looks like we’re going to have to meet him tomorrow,” Cacey leaned in to tell me as we walked down the hall. “Visiting hours are over.”

  I was shown to one end of the building and given a small, colorless room filled with only a bed, a wash table, and a picture of the crucifixion. A frozen dinner was brought to me on a dingy silver tray fifteen minutes later.

  Cacey came in when I was almost done eating (or rather, when I was almost done tentatively pushing my spoon through the gloppy mess) and told me that we were in for the night and she’d be back in the morning. Sternly, she warned me not to leave the house, that there were strict rules about who was allowed to wander the property and I didn’t want to be caught somewhere I shouldn’t be.

  I just shrugged and quickly agreed. Like I wanted to go wander around an insane asylum at night? No, thanks.

  The next morning, light filtered in through a small window cut high above my bed and woke me up. It was early, and I lay there for a while contemplating what it must have been like to live here all those years ago. When things like electroshock therapy and lobotomies were commonplace. Different rules, different medicines, different times.