by Trudy Stiles
“Ah–” I wince as his grip on me tightens.
“I’m so sorry.” He loosens his hold on me a little as he continues to guide me.
Sobs take over, and my shoulders shake. My head throbs harder, and I wonder how big the bruises are going to be on my face. She punched me at least twice. Three times? I lost count.
I inhale deeply and my lungs burn, causing me to cough uncontrollably, more blood spewing from my lips. “You need to get to a hospital,” he orders, and I immediately shake my head.
“No!” I can’t catch my breath; it hurts to breathe. I wince, grasping my tender ribs where one of her punches landed.
“Noelle, you need help. Please tell me who did this to you.” He’s frantic. Worried.
The ringing in my ears is back, and I can’t focus on his face. Is he really here?
My knees are weak again, standing upright is becoming nearly impossible. “Just leave me here.”
“What?” he asks, wrapping an arm around my waist. “I’m getting you inside.”
“Don’t take me home,” I beg again. It’s hard to breathe, my chest is so tight it feels like an elephant is sitting on it.
My knees buckle again and I gasp for air, nearly blacking out. “Stay with me,” he begs, worry filling his voice. My bare feet are no longer on the grass as I feel myself being carried. I can no longer speak as nausea takes over. Soon, a warm, plush carpet is suddenly beneath my toes. “You’re safe,” he whispers in my ear.
I’m not safe. I never will be. Pain emanates throughout my body, like pain I’ve never felt before. I think she’s done enough damage to kill me this time.
Then I collapse and everything goes black.
Heath
Present
THE SUN SLOWLY RISES over the horizon as I wipe the sleep from my eyes. The sound of crashing waves woke me up from my restless slumber a few minutes ago, reminding me that I’m in my car, where I’ve been asleep for the past few hours.
When I left Haley’s, I was too amped and angry to go home. Her attitude and admissions shocked me, and I still can’t shake the feeling that she never even cared about Noelle. The more I think about it, when Noelle disappeared, Haley barely mourned. It was almost like she was glad she was suddenly gone.
Haley’s jealousy of Noelle is now more obvious to me than ever. I never witnessed Haley doing anything overt to upset Noelle, but every once in a while, she would take a dig at her, making fun of her clumsiness, pointing out her awkwardly long legs or skinny ankles. These are things that would normally have gone in one ear and out the other, but for some reason, the memories are flooding back. After listening to Haley talk tonight about Noelle, it’s astounding I didn’t pick up on the cues when we were younger. She was envious and when I told her we couldn’t be together, her defenses took over and ugliness spewed from her mouth.
I’m startled by two surfers who breeze by on their skateboards, surfboards in hand. They’re heading toward the inlet, a popular place to catch the waves as they break against the jetty in the distance.
The jetty that Noelle plunged to her death from.
Before I open my door, I look into the rearview mirror. My hair is a mess, sticking out in all directions, and I’m sure my breath is kicking. I find a pack of gum in the dash and shove two pieces into my mouth. That should do it until I can get to a real bathroom. Speaking of, I have to take a piss. I step out of my car and see the beach bath houses are just opening up. I make a beeline for the men’s room and relieve myself. Then I splash some water on my face and look at my reflection in the mirror. I’m twelve years older than that boy who lost the love of his life. I’ve muddled through the better part of the past decade wondering if I was ever going to find someone like Noelle again.
I hooked up with a few different girls in college, but threw myself into my music. I wasn’t with a girl for more than a few weeks before my aloofness drove them away. It wasn’t until I reconnected with Haley when I began to yearn for more companionship, but certainly not in the way that Haley needed it. The casualness of our relationship was what I craved. I didn’t have to think deeply. I didn’t have to wonder if I was doing anything wrong. How was I supposed to know she’d been in love with me for decades?
My eyes are drawn and tired. I feel like I’m re-living the days and weeks surrounding Noelle’s disappearance. I came here to try to put this all behind me. To say goodbye to Noelle so I can finally move on with my life and attempt to open my heart to allow someone else in.
I hold onto the light catcher that I gave to her, the one that they found on the jetty. Her father gave it to me after the police released it from evidence. Memories flood back to me as I walk out of the bathrooms and toward the jetty as I can picture that day so vividly in my mind.
“Prominent local businessman, Tom Durand and his wife Tonya, said goodbye to his daughter today after the Coast Guard officially called off their search early this morning. Noelle Durand was last seen on August sixteenth, before she disappeared from the jetty at the mouth of the Point Pleasant inlet, leaving behind a grieving father and stepmother, and this, a crescent-moon-shaped light catcher.”
The screen flashes to video taken earlier today when a police officer is shown holding the light catcher that I gave Noelle so many years ago.
“Authorities found this piece of evidence nestled between two large boulders, her father quickly identifying it as Noelle’s. Her boyfriend, Heath Strickland, son of District Attorney, Palmer Strickland, was heavily questioned about her disappearance. Their family attorney quickly squashed any rumors that there was trouble in paradise between the two young lovers. Strickland was escorted from the police station by his parents and declined any comments. The Durand family has been very guarded about her mental state before her disappearance, but our investigative team became aware of a recent home invasion where Noelle and her stepmother were brutally beaten. Is her disappearance somehow connected? Does the boyfriend know more than he’s telling? We’ll be back at eleven with our investigative reporter, Monica O’Malley, as this story develops.”
I switch off the television and throw the remote control against my bedroom wall, causing it to shatter into pieces. Why is this happening? Why, Noelle? I want to scream her name into the air, throughout our yards, hoping she can hear me. Haley thinks she committed suicide, but I can’t believe in a million years that Noelle would ever do this to herself. Maybe it was an accident? I know she loved going to Point Pleasant when she was a kid. Her father’s boat was at the local marina. She told me that she drove herself out there, just after she got her driver’s license a little more than a year ago. She took her father’s car and spent the night on his boat. That’s the first place that Mr. Durand looked when they realized she was missing. After scouring the area for days and then conducting a search of the inlet and the ocean, they stopped looking. The Coast Guard believes that her body washed out to sea.
When the police questioned me, I had to explain to them I was the one that found out she was missing. They grilled me for over two hours, trying to get me to admit that I did something to her. That I killed her. They were skeptical of my whereabouts and wondered why I had such easy access to her bedroom window. After my father got involved, our security team provided video surveillance of outside our houses and have been cooperating fully with the police. It’s obvious I had nothing to do with this, but my father explained to me the boyfriend is always the first person they place on an ‘interested party’ list. I’m not exactly a named suspect, but I couldn’t help but feel that way since we left the police station. Why aren’t they investigating Tonya? Why is she allowed to roam free when I know she’s been hurting Noelle for years?
Mr. Durand came by the house about an hour ago to extend his apologies to me and my family. My father told him not to worry about anything, we all know I’m innocent and have nothing to hide. Her father then pulled me aside to give me the same light catcher they were showing on the television. He explained that they weren’t processing it
as evidence and gave it back to her family. Her father knew I gave it to her and wanted me to have it to remember her by. I didn’t even know what to say. I shoved it into my pocket and came up here to my room. My mother suggested we hang it in the kitchen nook, alongside her light catcher collection, but I want it all to myself. I don’t want to hang it in the window as some sort of memorial.
She can’t be gone.
She just can’t be.
I walk onto the rocks and look out at the ocean. The waves crash violently into the jetty that juts out from the inlet. The surfers from before rush out to catch the tremendous swells. Concern surges inside of me as I watch the two teenagers bounce in the waves and wonder if they’re experienced enough to handle the rough waters.
Was Noelle a strong enough swimmer to handle these waters? I look down from my perch, and I’m at least twenty to thirty feet above the water level in the inlet. The water below is rough and deep. The current just beyond the cove is strong, which is what’s causing the waves to crash so forcefully against the rocks. How long did it take her to go under after she fell? Was she unconscious? Did she know what was happening?
I back away from the edge, nervous of my own footing. Something just isn’t sitting right with me about this whole scenario and it never did. I distinctly remember the day she disappeared. I picked her up from her physical therapy appointment and dropped her off at home. She was acting erratically. Strange. She was constantly shifting in her seat, fidgety. My first thought was she took too many pain meds or something like that. I’d never seen her act the way she was. I wish I had said something to her at that moment, or at least stayed with her after I dropped her off. She was clearly impaired and if she drove out here and stood where I’m standing now, she could have easily fallen.
Or she could have been pushed.
Noelle
Past
Age 17
“NOELLE?” MY FATHER’S VOICE sounds like it’s a million miles away. “Can you hear me?” He’s worried. Why is he here?
My eyelids are stuck together, making it hard for me to find the face that goes along with the voice. “Daddy?” I croak, and I feel a tight squeeze around my hand.
“Easy, now. Take your time,” he urges while maintaining a firm grip on my hand. My coughing fit continues.
Where am I?
When I’m able to open my eyes, my vision isn’t clear, the room around me is blurry, figures hovering around the bed that I’m lying in. A beeping sound coming from behind me speeds up as I try to lift my head. “What’s going on?” I manage to ask, and my father lets go of my hand to gently press my shoulders back into the bed.
“Take it easy,” he says and kisses my forehead. “You don’t have to get up right away.”
The room starts to come in to focus and I see my father, looking tired and worried. He’s wearing one of his custom-tailored business shirts, his undershirt clearly visible. He’s disheveled, and I can’t remember the last time I saw him without a tie. His face has razor stubble, and he has dark circles under his eyes.
“Daddy?” I ask again, my heart racing. I take a deep breath, causing pain to radiate through my abdomen. The incessant beeping once again speeds up.
One of the blurry figures in the room comes into focus and a nurse is at my bedside. “Can you take a deep breath for me?” she asks, as I watch her adjust a bag of fluids to my right. Her cool hand squeezes mine, and I attempt to do as she asks. My lungs burn as if a small fire erupts in my chest, and a crushing pain settles on my sternum. My eyes tingle, tears spilling over. “It stings,” I gasp.
“Good, that’s a good sign.” The nurse smiles. “You’re going to be just fine. The anesthesia is wearing off and what you’re feeling is completely normal. Take a couple more deep breaths, just like that.” She adjusts my bed so I’m no longer lying flat. Anesthesia?
My father settles into the chair next to me, his voice less tense. “When I heard about what happened to you, I came home as soon as I could.”
“I don’t understand,” I say.
“You don’t remember anything?” he asks, sounding almost relieved.
I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to remember something. Anything.
“No. And you’re scaring me.” I try to see who’s in the room with us. “Where’s Heath? Is he here?”
Whispers come from across the room, and I open my eyes, seeing two more people come into focus. My heart races when I see her. Tonya is speaking with a police officer who is feverishly scribbling notes on a pad.
My eyes widen, and memories flood my vision. My entire body trembles as I attempt to fill my lungs with much needed air. She did this to me. What the fuck is she doing here?
“Calm down, sweetie,” my father says, smoothing my hair. “After Heath found you outside, he was able to get you to safety. Tonya told the police everything. You don’t need to say a word.”
My mind is screaming, words unable to escape my lips. What could she have possibly told them? Why isn’t she in handcuffs? Where’s Heath?
I open my mouth to tell him everything that sadistic bitch did to me, but all I can do is gasp for air. The nurse quickly slides an oxygen mask over my face. “Just breathe, Noelle.”
My father’s face is once again filled with worry. “Listen to the nurse,” he urges. “Take a deep breath.”
My heart is beating so fast it causes the pain in my chest to intensify. “I can’t,” I choke.
“This will help her calm down a bit,” the nurse says, injecting something into the bag of fluids that is attached to my arm. Within seconds, I exhale deeply. My arms and legs suddenly feel like jelly, the room blurry once again. “I’ll be back to check on her in a little while. Get some rest.” She seems to float out of the room as I’m left alone with my father, Tonya, and the police officer.
“Do you think you can answer a few questions for me?” the policeman asks, approaching my bed.
Oh, I’ll answer your questions.
Tonya steps in front of him. “Tom, I think she needs to rest,” she says to my father.
“My wife already answered all of your questions,” he tells the officer. “I think you have everything you need.”
What?
I open my mouth to stop the officer from leaving the room, but nothing comes out. “Thank you and feel better,” he says to Tonya. What?
The door closes behind him and Tonya is now standing next to my father. She takes my hand from his and I can’t move.
“I didn’t want you to have to relive what those horrible men did to us,” she lies, squeezing my hand tightly. Us? Men?
“But–”
“Shh,” she purrs and squeezes harder. “Your father already knows everything that happened.” That’s when I see her face. Her right eye is black and blue, swollen shut. The cheek below it multiple shades of purple, her lip bloody and stitched. “If it weren’t for you, those men would have killed me,” she lies. “You saved my life, Noelle.” Sobs escape her lips, fake tears stream down her face.
What the fuck is going on? She did this to me. She beat me to within an inch of my life. She’s lying. I need Heath now. He’s the one who found me and can back up my story.
“The police are doing everything in their power to track these men down. Palmer Strickland already has an idea of who did this.” Mr. Strickland is the District Attorney and Heath’s father. Surely, he must know what really happened.
The bitch who did this to me is standing in this room! RIGHT NOW!
“I don’t understand,” I say and manage to pull my hand from Tonya’s icy grip.
“I told them everything,” she says and walks to the far end of the room.
My breathing is more even, the medicine given to me is taking its desired effect. I feel like I’m going to slip back into unconsciousness. And I’m so confused. After she beat the shit out of me, her girlfriends showed up to play some stupid housewife game. Why aren’t they here? Are they in on this charade?
“Shortly after they arriv
ed, Heidi got a phone call that her daughter was sick, so we canceled game night. About twenty minutes after they left, that’s when it happened.” Her lies are almost believable as her new timeline aligns with when I think Heath found me in the backyard.
“What happened?” I ask, urging her to continue her elaborate lie.
“The doorbell rang. I thought it was Heidi because she left her Mahjong game in the den. When I opened it, two men wearing ski masks pushed through the door, demanding to know where our safe was. When I tried to stop them, one of them did this.” She points to her lip as tears fall down her cheek. Nausea spreads through my chest.
“Then you came out from your room. Don’t you remember?” she asks.
“I don’t remember anything you’re saying,” I say. “Stop lying–”
She interrupts me to continue her farce of a story. “I don’t know much of what happened next, but you attacked the big one. The one that was punching me. If you hadn’t showed up when you did, he would have killed me.” She sobs louder, and my father lets go of my hand to comfort her. “Tom, if you would tell me where the safe is, neither of us would have gotten hurt.” What the fuck?
I can’t believe all of this has to do with the damn safe. It’s hidden for a reason and ever since I found it, Tonya has sensed that I know something. When we built the house, Tonya scoured over the blueprints and plans, but she’s yet to be able to find it. I know how much she wants whatever is in it, and she wants it bad. “I don’t see how that matters, Tonya. And this isn’t the place to discuss the safe, or what’s in it,” he says while turning his attention back to me.
“Those men were big,” she lies. “They hurt me and your daughter very badly. Look at her!” she points to me and I feel like I’m sinking deeper into the bed. “They almost killed her.”
“Thank God they didn’t.” My father kisses me on my forehead and sits back down in the chair next to me.
“I don’t know how you were able to get out of the house,” Tonya continues. “After what I saw them do to you–both of them–you are so lucky. Oh my God, it was horrible!” Her act continues and I have no strength to correct anything she’s saying. She knows damn well that I was the one trying to escape–her.
