“Hey, Jean, got stock duty today?” I asked while I put my stuff in my locker.
“Yeah, what do you have?” she asked as she tied up her hair in a ponytail.
“Oh that sucks. I have register duty today,” I said.
“Lucky!” she cried. “I have to scan books all day. At least you get to talk to people,” she complained.
“Ha! Barely!” I countered. “At least you can listen to real music and not old 50s music all day!” We both laughed.
“All right, I’d better get out there. See you on break,” I said.
I walked to the front of the store and set up the register for the day. Just then, the little bell rang, telling me that someone had walked into the store. I looked up and saw Angie, the storeowner.
“Hello, Angie!” I said waving.
“Uh-huh, all right, okay hang on a sec,” she said. I was confused until I saw the small device in her ear. She must be on the phone.
“Hey, Lily. I’ll talk to you in a minute, but I have some calls to make,” Angie said, walking past the counter.
“No problem,” I replied. As she walked away, I watched her curly, black hair bounce. She had so much style. Today she wore a denim skirt with a bright-yellow shirt and yellow heels to match. The yellow looked fabulous against her mocha-colored skin and muddy, yet dazzling, brown eyes.
Work slugged by very slowly. Saturdays were always slow. Sundays and Wednesdays were usually our busiest days. Finally noon came around, and I went to the back to find Jean.
“Hey, Jean. You up for Subway?” I asked.
“Yes, I’m starving!” she said as she stood and stretched her muscles from sitting so long.
“Mind driving?” I asked her sheepishly.
“Not at all,” she answered.
“Oh, what I would give for a car,” I groaned.
“Yeah, but you don’t have to spend all your money on gas,” Jean said.
“True, but at least I wouldn’t be such a moocher all the time,” I laughed.
We pulled into Subway, ordered our sandwiches, and sat down to eat. “Hey, want to go to
the movies tonight?” I asked.
“Uh, I don’t know, maybe. What movie?” she asked.
“A Stalker’s Greatest Wish. You’ve seen the previews, right?” I asked.
“Oh, um, I’ll have to pass on that. I hate scary movies.”
“Are you sure? There’s a bunch of people from school coming too; it’ll be fun,” I informed her.
“No, they still give me bad dreams,” she said sheepishly.
We enjoyed the rest of our subs mostly in silence. We were both kind of shy people, though Jean was a little more social than me. I honestly didn’t mind the quiet. It didn’t seem like she did either.
We got back to Angie’s Books just before one o’clock. As we walked in, the little bell sounded, and the phone rang at the same time. I jogged over to answer it.
“Hello, Angie’s Books. How may I help you?” I said in my work voice.
“Is this Lily?”
“Um, yes it is,” I said in a surprised voice. The only person that ever called for me was my mom. Emily was really my only close friend and knew my schedule, so she didn’t bother me at work unless it was important. Same with my mom.
“Hi Lily, it’s Mrs. Furn, Amanda’s mom. You sound so grown up. Amanda told me you were working there now,” she said in a cheery voice.
“Oh hi, Mrs. Furn. How have you been?” Amanda and I used to play together, but she had moved to a different neighborhood last year.
“Well, I’ve been just fine. Amanda’s birthday is coming up, and I wanted to know if The Host was in the store? She’s been wanting to read it for a long time.”
“Oh, I’m not sure. Let me go check,” I said into the receiver. “Hey, Jean?” I called, holding the phone away from my mouth. “Do we have The Host by Stephenie Meyer in stock?”
“Yes, I was looking at it the other day!” she yelled from the stockroom.
“Thanks!” I said. “We have that in stock, Mrs. Furn,” I said into the receiver.
“Oh, that’s wonderful. I’ll be in later this afternoon to pick it up,” Mrs. Furn said.
“Okay great! See you soon; have a good day,” I said.
I heard a click, then a long, low-pitched beep. I put the phone back on the receiver and walked behind the counter. I liked cheery people; rude people drove me absolutely crazy.
For the rest of the day, only three more people came in, including Mrs. Furn.
It was almost two hours to closing time when the phone rang again. If this person wanted a book, they’d better hurry. Sometimes Angie let us leave early on slow days.
“Hello, Angie’s Books. How may I help you?” I asked.
The person on the other end was breathing heavily, and a painfully familiar and gruff voice answered. “Lily? Is that you? Where’s Lily?” the voice asked through heavy breaths.
“No, Lily isn’t here. Sorry, sir, but we’re closing. Have a nice night,” I said monotonically into the phone. I quickly hung up.
The man’s voice. My thoughts scrambled as I tried to think of my father’s release date. Why wouldn’t he just leave us alone? Doing the math quickly in my head, I realized that he would have gotten out two months ago.
My face was frozen in shock and fear as I shuffled slowly back to the register and fought back tears. He had found us. He had probably asked the townspeople where I worked and looked up the number to the store. Then a thought burst into my head that almost made me fall over. I held the counter for support. What if he had been . . . following me? That meant he probably knew where we lived! No, he would have shown up by now if he did. My mind was still racing. Should I tell Mom? No, she had enough stress, and she wouldn’t let me go to the movies if I did. I would tell her when I got home from Emily’s. I was still holding on to the counter when a raspy voice called from behind me.
“Lily?”
I gasped, jumped about two feet in the air, and spun around. I stared at the small, white box mounted on the wall. Pressing against the counter, I looked around, confused.
“Hello?” It was Angie’s voice coming from the little speaker.
“Oh!” I shot forward to press the button that let us speak. “Sorry, Angie. I forgot we had this thing.”
“That’s all right, but could you come back to my office?”
“Sure, be right there.” Man, I need to pull myself together. I took a deep breath and pushed away from the counter. I walked through the shelves of books and back to Angie’s office. She was typing something on her green laptop and didn’t look up until she finished and clicked the mouse. She spun her chair around and smiled.
“How have you been? I’m always so busy, and I never get to talk to anyone.”
“I’m doing great; how about you?”
“Fine, just fine. So there’s a reason I called you back here . . .” After a long pause, she continued. “I’m telling people individually.” Another pause. I nodded this time. She sighed.
“I wish it were good news, but well . . . someone tried to break in last night.”
I gasped, my heart plunging to the floor.
“I was working late doing paperwork, and the alarm system went off, so I called the police. I think the person got scared and ran off because I never saw anybody. I filed a report, so everything is settled. I doubt anything will happen again, but to be on the safe side, I’m telling everyone so you will all know to be careful. If anything strange happens, you need to tell me, okay?”
I knew I was slightly pale. The two incidents, the phone call and now this . . . it all frightened me. They couldn’t be connected, could they? Would my father really break in? No, it wasn’t possible. I swallowed loudly.
“I’ll be sure to tell you if anything happens.” I faked a smile. Angie returned it, but her smile was real. Real and beautiful. “Thanks for telling me, Angie,” I managed to utter.
“Of course, Lily. I wouldn’t want anyone
getting hurt.” The sincerity in her eyes was strong. “Will you send Jean in for me?”
“Yes ma’am,” I said, as she turned back to her computer and started typing again.
After sending Jean to Angie’s office (I had to convince her that she wasn’t getting into trouble or anything after she had a mini heart attack; she cracked me up sometimes), I went back to the front and leaned on the counter. I decided to stare at the wall for a while and forced my mind to go blank. But nothing helped. My brain took off with scenarios of my father breaking in, following me in some rusty old car, standing over me or . . . oh God, what if he tried to take Ashley! My heart raced. If he did anything to Ashley, I would find him and break his legs. I shook my head like a wet dog after a bath. I was getting carried away. But I would secretly tell Ashley to sleep with Mom tonight since I wouldn’t be home to watch her myself.
After a long time, I finally moved. My muscles were stiff. It was 7:46 p.m. It had been almost two hours since I’d moved. Wow. Maybe me and Em’s usual all-nighters would have to be canceled. I needed sleep.
When the clock struck 8:00, I walked to the back in a dazed state to grab my things from my locker. Jean was just opening her locker. I shook away the thoughts of my father and the break-in.
“Finally, right?” I said, laughing nervously.
“You got that right,” she replied, chuckling.
“So, you’re sure you don’t want to go to the movies?” I asked while fishing my things out of my locker.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” she said. “But have fun!”
“Thanks, you too,” I said as I turned to leave.
“Okay, bye!” Jean answered.
I stopped by Angie’s office and said goodbye, and told her that I would see her Wednesday. I walked out of the store, heard the little bell chime, then sat on the bench to wait for Mom to pick me up. It was very quiet and peaceful outside. The temperature was perfect. I loved fall and summer. I didn’t care for spring or winter very much because of the allergies and chilly weather. Despite the warm fall air, I shivered.
The little bell on the door rang, and I jumped at the sound. Jean walked outside, stopped, then gazed the parking lot with a worried look on her face.
“Do you want me to wait with you or give you a ride home?” she asked looking around again. “Angie said she told you about the break in . . .” She said it as a matter-of-fact thing, like I was crazy to sit out here alone. I looked into the darkness, an eerie feeling sweeping over me. Maybe I was crazy.
“Well, I could use the comp—” And just then, the headlights of my mother’s car pulled into the parking lot. “That’s my mom. Thank you, though!” I said.
“Okay,” she replied, and the worried expression was gone. She turned and walked to her car. I jumped into my mother’s car and greeted my family, trying not to sound like I was hiding something.
“Hello, sweetheart,” Mom said.
“Hey, Lily!” Ashley called from the back seat.
“How was your day?” I asked.
“Oh, we had lots of fun, didn’t we, sweetie?” she said, glancing in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah, it was the best! We went out to eat and to the park and shopping, and then I got candy! Come with us next time, Lily!” she exclaimed.
“I’ll try, squirt,” I told her.
“How was your day?” Mom asked.
“It was slow. But Saturdays usually are,” I said. I intentionally left out the freaky phone call part of the day. “But . . .” I started to say, and my mother raised her eyebrows at my tone. “Angie said someone tried to break in last night.” I lowered my voice a little so Ashley wouldn’t ask a bunch of questions.
“Oh my goodness! That’s horrible. But she’s okay?”
“Yeah, everyone is fine. She just wants us to keep an eye out for anything weird.”
“Well, I’m glad no one was hurt.”
“Me too.” I couldn’t leave my mother out of the loop about something that serious. I usually told her everything. Well, almost everything. The phone call could have been a prank or something. Yeah, that was what it was. One of the football players must have known I was working and wanted to scare me.
While Ashley rambled on and on, I half listened, saying “oh” and “wow” at the right times. I was thinking about who I would sit next to at the movies. Emily maybe, but she would sit with Jacob, of course, and she would be flirting the whole time, so maybe not. Or maybe . . . Scott? I almost laughed out loud. In my dreams! Literally. Scott wouldn’t want to sit next to me if Emily or any other girl was there. I leaned back in the seat and sighed.
5
A Man
Last weekend, I followed Lily to work. Angie’s Books. How sweet. I hung out in the coffee shop across the street, minding my own business. I watched her go outside and get in a car with her friend, laughing away. They must’ve been on their lunch break. They had no idea I was watching.
I waited for about an hour and watched the car pull back in. They went back inside. I got up and left with no real destination in mind; I just needed to get closer. A burning feeling tore through my stomach, slamming up into my chest. I clutched at my chest while I walked, my eyes hidden under a hat, and my chin bent toward the ground. I would come back here when the time was right.
I thought of Sophia and Mackenzie. My two beautiful girls. My beautiful angels. They were all I had left after their mother Josie died. After Josie left me, God rest her soul, my two beautiful little girls . . . they became a constant reminder of her.
I would never forget that fateful day. We were sitting in the living room as a family. I was on the couch, stiff as a board and staring into space. Josie had been gone for two months, but I couldn’t even think about removing her things. Her shoes were still sitting by the front door. Her makeup and lotions were still in the bathroom—our bathroom. Her blue apron still hung in the kitchen.
Sophia and Mackenzie were sitting on the floor a few feet away from me. They looked like a beautiful painting with their blue and pink polka dot dresses fanned out around them and their long golden curls hanging down their backs. They’d laughed for a moment, tears in their eyes from the joy, and looked over at me—their father.
It was ear-splittingly quiet when they stopped laughing, and their big eyes glowed up at me; their preciously round, dimpled faces sparkled. I turned my head to see Josie’s reading chair. I still expected to see her with reading glasses on, and the lamp shining on the table beside her. I expected her to look up and smile at her daughters’ laughter. But she wasn’t there. The lamp was dark and the table dusty. There was no smiling. Josie was gone. Dead.
Something had snapped inside of me.
How could my girls be smiling? How could they laugh? I’d looked in their eyes and seen Josie—their dimples, their hair, and even their voices were all Josie. Nothing could be the same anymore, not ever. I walked into the kitchen where Josie’s blue apron hung limp on the wall. The girls had followed me there with their dolls still in their hands. How could they be happy? Their mother was dead! How could they? Rage flowed through my entire body, and I was shaking. I grabbed a knife. Numb. There was no feeling in my body except pure rage. My humanity was gone, just like Josie.
“Daddy?” they’d whispered.
I’d stared down at them, my vision red. Their dolls had fallen on the kitchen tile.
As I strolled through the streets of Niceville, I felt woozy. I stumbled through a park and passed some teenagers skateboarding. One of them yelled at me, but I ignored it. All I could see was red starting to pool around a plastic doll on the kitchen floor.
I fell to my knees and a scream burst from my chest. I dug my fingers into the soft earth—pulling and ripping the pieces apart. My whole body shook as I screamed, drool spraying from my mouth, and my vision blurry with hate.
“Dude, are you all right?” one of the teenagers asked.
I froze, but I didn’t look up. I stayed there on my hands and knees, panting and heaving.
“Um, seriously dude, are you all right?” he asked again. “Should I call 911?”
I snapped my head up at him, and he took a step back, holding his hands out in surrender. Was I really that much of a monster? Did he know what I did to my girls—my poor, poor angels? Did he know what I was going to do?
“You’re crazy,” the teenager spat, and he rode off with his friends. He had no idea.
Lily and Ashley . . . they were just like my girls, but they would be mine soon enough.
6
Emily
I dashed to my closet to find my red Coach shoes. I pulled them on my feet, then stood in front of the mirror, searching for any flaws I might have missed. My hair, which I had scrunched, was still doing what I wanted it to do. My makeup looked smooth and pretty. My red shirt flattered me wonderfully, and my skirt showed off my legs just enough. Perfect! I put on a new layer of pink lip-gloss as a finishing touch.
Even though I saw Lily almost every day, I couldn’t wait to see her. We were like soul sisters. Our friendship seemed to grow by the minute. It was almost like we were destined to be close. She confided in me and told me everything. She’d told me about her dad. It was crazy to think about. I knew she was still scared of him coming back and finding her. When we were younger, she would have nightmares when she slept over, waking up and screaming that he was going to get her. I would always try to comfort her, but I honestly never knew what to say. I couldn’t even imagine my father hurting our family like that.
I’d met her on the first day of fifth grade. I saw this little, skinny girl with flat brown hair and gangly features. She was wearing this silly, brown-plaid outfit. I had walked up to her and stuck out my hand, but she just stared at me. Some stupid boy was making fun of her, so I obviously had to intervene. I yelled at him, and when he scampered away like a pathetic puppy, I introduced myself.
Nightmare in Niceville Page 4
