Never Tell Them

by N L Hinkens

  The minute Sonia walked into the kitchen, she could tell something was amiss. The kids were coloring at the table, a trail of cookie crumbs across the pages. Jessica’s eyes darted guiltily from adult to adult. Mary shot Evelyn a tense look before reaching for her stick and getting to her feet. “I should go. I need to let my dog out.”

  Wordlessly, Sonia followed her to the door and laid a hand on her arm. “Mary, did something happen? I saw the look you gave Mom.”

  Mary’s shriveled lips trembled, her rheumy eyes filled with angst. “Not exactly. It’s just that Henry—“ She broke off and fixed an apologetic gaze on Sonia. “I don’t want to stir up any trouble … it was just so upsetting. Of course, he might have been making it up. He’s only a kid, after all.”

  The knot in Sonia’s stomach tightened. “Making what up? What did he tell you?”

  Mary adjusted the strap of her varnished black purse. “Well, the kids wanted to draw, you see, so Jessica fetched her art supplies and she suggested they draw their families. Henry drew his mom, and everything was going great, but then I asked him if he was going to draw his dad too, and he shook his head.” Mary hesitated and threw a nervous look over her shoulder. “Naturally, I asked him why. It’s not that I was being nosy or anything, I just—“

  “Of course not,” Sonia soothed, desperate for her to get to the point.

  “He said his dad was a bad man,” Mary whispered loudly. “That’s when Jessica asked him if he was bad because he choked his mom. At first, I thought I misheard her, and then I scolded her for saying such a thing—I could see Henry was fighting back tears.” She pressed her lips together. “Jessica was upset with me, but I didn’t realize it was something Henry had told her. At any rate, I managed to distract them with some cookies. The next thing I know Henry’s drawing a picture of himself inside his house with tears running down his face. I asked him why he was crying, and he said, because I was yocked in.” Mary arched her sparse brows. “I didn’t know what the poor kid was talking about at first, but then Jessica caught on that he was saying, locked in. He told us he was locked in his room, every day.”

  Sonia frowned, her pulse thundering in her temples. “Did he say who locked him in?”

  Mary gave a weighty nod. “Yes, his dad, but that’s not all. He said his mother was locked in too.”

  13

  The following morning, Sonia was still at a loss to know how much of what Henry had said to believe. She backed out of her garage, torn between driving to the hospital to pick up Ray, as promised, or going straight to the police station to report what his son had said. It seemed improbable that Ray could have kept his child and cancer-ridden wife locked in a room without someone finding out about it. His wife must have had family, friends, neighbors checking up on her—not to mention doctors, and appointments to keep.

  Did Henry simply have an over-active imagination? Was he desperate for attention in the wake of the loss of his mother? Turning on her blinker, Sonia merged robotically with the traffic on the highway, her mind churning through the possibilities. There could be a more benign explanation. Ray might have locked Henry in his room to keep him safe while he ran an errand or something—the actions of a desperate parent. Maybe he’d dashed to the pharmacy for a prescription for his wife. Then again, if Ray thought he was capable of killing his father, then maybe he was capable of locking his child in a room as a form of punishment, or perhaps even to avoid having to care for him.

  The traffic light up ahead turned red and Sonia slowed to a halt, tapping the palm of her hand on the steering wheel. The frustrating part was that Ray couldn’t remember anything. When she’d broken the news to him that he had a son, he’d been genuinely shocked. But he’d also expressed concern for Henry’s welfare—he hadn’t sounded like someone who was likely to choke his wife in front of his young son, or lock them in a room, or deprive his kid of toys or treats. Was it possible he could have forgotten that he was a monster?

  A horn blared behind her, jolting Sonia into action. She floored the gas through the intersection, and took a sharp left toward the hospital, sealing in the decision she’d been mulling over ever since she’d left the house. She would pick Ray up and bring him home. After that, she would decide what to do about him.

  When she entered his hospital room, he was perched on the edge of the bed, clutching some paperwork.

  “Did they discharge you already?” Sonia asked, handing him the clothes she’d brought from his house.

  Ray nodded. ”Doctor Robinson stopped by earlier with my test results. He said I’m good to go home with a responsible adult.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “I told him you were very levelheaded. Although, I’ve no idea if there’s any truth to that. You might be here to kidnap me.”

  Sonia gave a nervous laugh in response. How ironic that he felt he had as much reason to fear her as she did him.

  He disappeared into the bathroom with his clothes and emerged a few minutes later dressed in sweats and a long-sleeved cotton shirt that Sonia had dug out of one of the moving boxes.

  “I really appreciate you going out of your way like this,” Ray said. “I don’t want to become a burden, but the bummer is I haven’t been cleared to drive yet, and the doctor wants to see me again in a couple of days.”

  Sonia managed to mask her irritation with a thin smile. “I’m sure I can get you to your appointment.”

  “That’s kind of you,” he said, stuffing the discharge paperwork into his pocket. “All right, let’s get out of here.”

  Inside the elevator, the tension in the claustrophobic space seemed to pulse with a current of its own. Sonia kept her eyes forward, wondering, not for the first time, if she should be afraid of Ray. She tried not to think about how easy it would be for him to hit the emergency stop switch and strangle her. She could still feel Henry’s hot little fingers digging into her neck. Goosebumps pricked her skin. She had to make a decision soon on whether to go to the police with the information she had. Did Ray sense she was keeping something from him, planning to rat him out while playing the friendly neighbor? More important, what was he keeping from her?

  The doors finally dinged open revealing the hospital lobby. Exhaling a silent sigh of relief, Sonia led the way out to the parking lot and unlocked her car. Ray climbed into the passenger seat and reached for his seatbelt. That had to be a good sign. He hadn’t forgotten the basics of life, at least. Hopefully, he still remembered how to use a computer, so he could order his groceries online. She had put a few staples in his refrigerator, but she didn’t want to be obligated to keep him fed and stocked up until he was able to drive again. “Do you remember what your house looks like, yet?” she asked.

  Ray furrowed his brow for a moment, before shaking his head. ”No. I can’t even remember my own son’s face. That’s what worries me most.”

  “I’m sure you’ll recognize him once you see him.”

  “I meant to ask you,” Ray said, scratching the back of his head. ”Does Henry go to school?”

  Sonia grimaced, navigating her way through an intersection before answering. She’d hoped to avoid having this conversation until she’d decided whether to report Ray to the police. “He just started at the local preschool, Small Steps. I picked him up from there the day of your accident. The principal asked me to remind you that you haven’t turned in all his paperwork. The registration process needs to be completed before he can go back to school.”

  Ray blinked, a befuddled look on his face. ”Do you know what paperwork they’re talking about?”

  “They’re missing his birth certificate and immunization record.”

  “That’s odd. Maybe I haven’t unpacked them yet,” Ray said absentmindedly, before turning to look out the window.

  Sonia darted a glance across at him. He didn’t sound particularly concerned, or guilty. Either he’d forgotten that he didn’t have a birth certificate for Henry, or he was an exceptionally smooth liar. A shiver of fear ran up her spine as Finn’s words flitted back to m
ind.

  Don’t think for one minute that if anything happens to Jess I won’t come after you.

  Finn had called Ray a psycho, and Jessica thought he was creepy. What if they were right? What if they were more in tune to the danger Ray presented than she was? She didn’t exactly have a good track record for knowing a villain when she saw one. The longer she delayed turning the information over to the police, the more risk she could be exposing her family to.

  When they pulled back into her driveway, Sonia switched off the engine and turned to Ray. ”Henry may not react the way you want him to at first. Remember, he lost his mother not that long ago, and then you suddenly disappeared out of his life. He’s attached himself to my daughter, Jessica, and he may not want to go home with you right away.”

  Ray looked crestfallen. ”We can’t continue to be a burden on you and your family. He needs to come home with me tonight. We’ll figure it out.”

  Sonia flashed him a sympathetic smile. ”Let’s just play it by ear.” As far as she was concerned, Henry was welcome to stay for another night if it made things easier, but she wasn’t about to offer Ray her guest room. She could just imagine Jessica telling her father that the strange man next door was now sleeping in the guest bedroom. The last thing she needed was CPS and a SWAT team swarming her house.

  “Well, look who’s back,” Evelyn said, running an appraising eye over Ray as she untied her apron. “You look all tuckered out. How does a hot cup of tea sound?”

  Ray gave an appreciative nod. “That would be great, thanks.”

  Sonia gestured to a chair. ”Park yourself there. I’ll go find the kids.”

  “They’re outside playing on the tire swing,” Evelyn called after her.

  Sonia leaned against the back door frame and folded her arms across her chest, watching the children for several minutes. Her heart warmed at the rare sound of Henry’s laughter pealing through the air. A few more days here, and he might start acting like a normal four-year-old. There was nothing she wanted more for him than to see the fear in his eyes gone.

  You’re safe here, I promise. I won’t let anyone hurt you.

  ”Higher!” he shrieked as Jessica pushed him.

  Reluctantly, Sonia straightened up, steeling herself to interrupt their play. She wasn’t sure whether to let Henry know that his father was back, or simply to tell him it was time to come inside. All things considered, it was probably best to prepare him—it didn’t feel right to blindside him.

  “Watch this, Mom!” Jessica called out, pushing the tire swing with all her might. “Hold on, Henry!”

  Sonia walked up to her and smoothed a hand over her ponytail. ”I know you guys are having fun out here, but Henry’s dad is back, and he wants to see him.”

  Jessica threw her a wary look before reaching for the rope and slowing the swing down.

  “More!” Henry cried, kicking his feet excitedly.

  “I’ll push you some more later,” Jessica said, in a motherly tone as she helped him off the swing. “First we have to go inside and see your dad.”

  “Why?” Henry asked, searching out his thumb.

  Sonia took a shallow breath, trying to figure out how best to answer him. At least he wasn’t completely freaking out at the news. Smiling, she reached for his hand, opting for a diversionary tactic. ”Tell you what, let’s go inside and get some of Grandma’s cookies.”

  Ray’s eyes lit up at the sight of Henry traipsing into the kitchen clutching Sonia’s hand. He shot a hesitant look at her before addressing Henry, ”Hey, buddy. Did you have fun on the tire swing?”

  Henry nodded but made no attempt to approach him. Instead he took a half-step backward and peered around Sonia’s legs.

  “All right, cookie time,” Sonia said briskly. She lifted Henry up and plopped him on a chair at the table next to his father before he had a chance to protest. Evelyn started fishing around in the cookie jar and arranged an assortment on a plate. The instant she set them on the table, Henry snatched up a chocolate chip cookie and began chomping on it. Sonia smirked, secretly pleased at how brazen he’d become when it came to the treats he’d been denied.

  Ray wet his lips, his eyes riveted on his son. ”I’m sorry I had to go away for a couple of days, Henry.”

  Henry stopped chewing, his cheek smeared with chocolate. ”Can I have another sleepover?”

  Ray bunched his brows together. “Maybe, in a day or two. But tonight, we need to sleep at our house.”

  Henry jutted out his bottom lip. “I want to sleep here.” He pointed a finger at Jessica. “With her!”

  Sonia winked reassuringly at Ray before turning to Henry. ”How about Jessica and I walk you back over to your house?”

  Henry considered this for a moment and then gave an underwhelming nod. Sonia smiled encouragingly at him. He might be hoping to try and convince them to let Jessica sleep at his house instead. But that was never going to happen.

  After gathering up Henry’s things, they all trooped across the back lawn to Ray’s house, leaving Evelyn to tidy up the avalanche of crumbs beneath the table.

  Jessica retrieved the key from the planter and proudly unlocked the door for everyone.

  Ray trudged from the kitchen into the family room, shaking his head in bewilderment. “None of this looks familiar.”

  Sonia went over to the shelf beneath the television and pulled out the photo album that Celia had put together of her sons. ”Why don’t you look through some family photos?” she suggested. “See if you recognize anyone.”

  Ray sank down in an armchair with the album and began turning the pages. ”I’m guessing these are from my childhood.” He frowned as he worked his way through the photos. “This must be my brother in all these pictures with me. What did you say his name was?”

  “Tom,” Sonia answered. “He’s eleven months younger than you.”

  “Can I see?” Jessica cried, squeezing in between the arms of the chair and the couch for a better look.

  “Me too,” Henry echoed.

  Ray angled the photo album to give them a better view as he continued flipping through the pages.

  “Beach!” Henry said, pointing a finger at a photo of Ray and Tom digging in the sand with plastic shovels, their buckets half-buried next to them.

  “That’s right,” Ray said, smiling at him. ”Do you like going to the beach, Henry?”

  He shrugged, never taking his eyes off the photo. The look of intense longing on his face made Sonia suspect he’d never played in the sand before.

  Ray turned the last page and studied the photo of himself and his brother, Tom, for a long time. “He looks like me.”

  Jessica cocked her head to one side and curled up her lip. ”Not really.” She tilted the photo toward Henry. “What do you think?”

  He pressed a tiny finger on Tom’s face. ”My dad.”

  14

  Later that evening, Ray heated up a plate of lasagne Sonia had left in the refrigerator for him and took it into the family room to eat in front of the television. They had all laughed awkwardly after Henry pointed at the picture of Tom and called him his dad. Thankfully, Sonia had acknowledged that Ray and his brother, Tom, really did look remarkably alike, and left it at that. Ray wasn’t ready for any more probing questions—he needed time to think things through.

  As Sonia had predicted, Henry didn’t respond well when it came time for her and Jessica to leave. He’d burst into tears and clung to them, and Ray hadn’t had the heart to force the poor kid to stay with him—or the energy to argue with him. In the end, he’d consented to Henry spending one more night with Jessica and coming home tomorrow instead.

  He put a forkful of food in his mouth and chewed mindlessly. His head throbbed whenever he moved it too quickly. From time to time, patchwork images flashed to mind, but they always faded away in a blur before he could stitch a memory together. It was incredibly frustrating, but, at the same time, a hopeful sign that his brain would soon be firing on all cylinders again. At least he
’d remembered how to use a microwave to heat his dinner—it wasn’t as if he’d suffered any irreparable brain damage. He’d just have to put his trust in the doctors and hope his memory returned in full over the next few days. For now, he needed a distraction—thinking too much aggravated his headache. He picked up the TV remote and clicked through the channels: I Shouldn’t Be Alive, Win the Wilderness, Deadliest Catch—eventually settling on an episode of Top Gear. After surviving a wreck that had totaled his truck, he wasn’t in the mood for a survival-type show.

  He hadn’t had much of an appetite when he sat down, but Sonia’s lasagne proved a refreshing change from hospital food, and he cleaned his plate. He wiped his mouth on a napkin and set the empty plate on the end table, his gaze falling on a folded-up page from a newspaper. Frowning, he reached for it. It was the article Sonia had brought to the hospital. He reread the story carefully—the original interview with Katie Lambert’s father, and his desperate plea for her safe return, tugged at his heartstrings. Katie was only seventeen when she went missing. She was last seen waiting for an Uber after work. The police suspected she’d been abducted some time later that evening. Ray couldn’t imagine the horror of losing a child, for any reason—let alone to some predator. No wonder Katie’s father had committed suicide. The newspaper article indicated the poor man had already lost his wife to cancer—

  Ray caught his breath, his heartbeat picking up pace as a memory blazed across his brain. Sonia had told him his wife had died of cancer too. He scrunched his eyes shut trying to remember what she looked like. Something—anything—about her. Her name, for instance. Despite pushing through the pounding pain in his head, he couldn’t drum up so much as the vaguest recollection of her face, her hair, or even the color of her eyes. Nor could he recall anything about her illness. Surely there would have been dozens of doctors’ appointments, hospital visits, treatments. He must have accompanied her to some of them. He rubbed his brow in an effort to ease the tension. It must have been a traumatic time for Henry too—watching her slowly dying. At some point, it would have been impossible to hide the truth from him.