by Angie Kelly
"And Devon?"
"Devon's mum was Dr. Tarpley's secretary, years ago. Name was Jillian or Joanne. She left when she got pregnant with Dev and moved out west. Dr. Tarpley lost touch with her. But when Mrs. T. got wind she'd died, she tracked Dev down and brought her here."
"You weren't one of her foster kids then?"
"Me? Nah, I met Mrs. T. in London a while back when she got lost in the east end. I helped her out of a jam when she got her handbag nicked and—"
"Nicked?"
"You know, stolen," he said, impatiently, obviously not wanting to be interrupted in the middle of a story.
I tried not to wince at the word stolen remembering back to the awful memory of my time with the Higgins's. Alex was too busy finishing his story to notice the look on my face.
"… turned out she needed an assistant, and as it happened, I needed a job, and to get out of London. A beautiful partnership was formed."
"Why'd you need to get out of London? What did you do?" I couldn't imagine what someone as adorable as Alex could have done wrong.
"Sorry, luv." He seemed self-conscious. "I'm way too sober to tell you my story. Ask me again when you're twenty-one and I'll tell you over a pint. You're buying," he said, laughing. Little did he know I planned to hold him to it, even if it was nine long years away.
We walked in silence for a few minutes, and I noticed the further into the labyrinth we got, the less noise from the outside I could hear. It made me feel a little light-headed.
"You alright?" Alex gave me a strange look.
"Yeah." But I wasn't so sure. "What about the girl who left?" I asked to change the subject. "Where'd she come from?" I hoped talking would make me feel better, because the last thing I wanted to do was to faint in front of Alex.
"You mean Morgan Lake?"
"I guess so. I overheard Devon say she's been gone for less than a month."
Alex, who'd been Mr. Information up until now, suddenly clammed up and gave me a tight smile. He shrugged and it was like something closed behind his eyes.
"Morgan was here for about a year. Not quite sure where she came from. Left when she turned eighteen. Nice kid, though, never a problem," he said in one long, breathless rush.
"Oh, so she wasn't connected to the Tarpley family?"
"Nah," he said, shaking his head. I was relieved. Hearing the other three girls had a personal family connection to the Tarpley's was making me feel like the odd girl out. Morgan Lake must have come from foster care like I had.
"Where'd she go?"
"Dunno." He walked ahead of me and around the next corner. I had to jog to catch up to him. Why didn't he want to talk about Morgan Lake?
"Here we are," he said.
We had reached the center of the labyrinth, which was square with stone benches all around the inside against the hedges. The center was paved with ancient-looking brick. It didn't match somehow, and I wondered if maybe the center section had originally been part of another garden. A small pond was in the center filled with greenish water. There were four bright round copper disks, one on each side of the pond, with strange symbols engraved on them. The sun glinted off the disks, blinding me momentarily and glinting off a ring Alex was wearing. It was the first time I noticed the ring. It was silver, with a half-inch wide square in the center. The design in the middle of the square was a familiar one. It was a labyrinth.
Suddenly, the lightheadedness I had felt earlier grew stronger, and I swayed on my feet. The air felt charged with electricity. I smelled something hot and metallic and stinking like rotten eggs. The world started spinning, and I pitched forward towards the pond. The water was glowing. I was being sucked into it. I started screaming. Alex was calling my name, and his strong hands were pulling me backwards. Then everything went black.
****
When I woke up it was dark outside, and I was in bed. Someone had put a nightshirt on me. The clock by my bed read 10:45. I'd been out for hours. My head hurt and my mouth was dry. A warm breeze blew in from my open bedroom window. I sat up abruptly as scattered memories came flooding back. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand. But my legs felt like jelly, and I had to sit back down.
What happened? I was still a little fuzzy-headed. The last thing I remembered was being near the pond in the center of the labyrinth with Alex. I remembered the brightness of the sun on the copper disks encircling the center of the labyrinth. I remembered Alex's ring with the labyrinth on it, which seemed weird. I tried to stand up again. This time I was a little steadier. I put on my robe and walked over to the bedroom door and pressed an ear against it. I didn't hear anything and opened the door. The hallway was dark. There were no signs of life coming from either Tomi or Lily's bedrooms. I headed downstairs and heard voices coming from the kitchen.
"So, now we have to babysit her? Like we don't have better things to do?" I recognized Devon's voice right away. I didn't have to see her to know her face was screwed up like she smelled something bad.
"No one said anything about babysitting. All I said was to keep Mia from going into the labyrinth. She's obviously not ready," said Mrs. Tarpley. Her voice had the same firm "don't question me" quality it had earlier when she and Devon were arguing.
"Yeah, if I hadn't been there to pull her back, no telling where she'd have ended up," commented Alex.
"But I thought it wasn't possible without a ring?" said Tomi.
"Well, she was with Alex," Lily pointed out. "Maybe he somehow triggered it."
"I don't see how. I was a good ten feet away from her when she went all wonky," replied Alex indignantly.
What in the world were they talking about? What wasn't I ready for?" I inched closer to the closed kitchen door to hear more.
"It doesn't matter how it happened. I don't want it happening again. Am I clear?" Mrs. Tarpley asked. I heard murmurs of agreement from the others.
"Good. Now, how are the preparations for Saturday going?"
They all started talking excitedly at once. I heard Tomi saying something about diary translations. Devon said something about school uniforms. Alex was going on about searching birth and death records, and Lily was talking about a priest. One thing was crystal clear to me. They weren't talking about rock climbing. Mrs. Tarpley had lied to me. Where were they going and why didn't they didn't want me to know about it?
"Nosy!" said the weird deep voice behind me, startling me so bad I took a step forward and the floorboard beneath my right foot creaked loudly. Conversation came to an abrupt stop. Realizing I was about to be busted and there was no time to run back upstairs, I walked into the kitchen and ran smack into Alex, who'd come out to see what the noise was.
"Mia! Are you okay? You gave me a fright out there." He guided me to a nearby chair like I was frail.
Everyone — except Devon — started fussing over me. Tomi jumped up and got me a glass of water. Lily pushed a stool over so I could prop my feet up. Mrs. Tarpley asked if I was hungry. I could so get used to this. When I met Devon's gaze, the blonde gave me a look letting me know she knew I'd had been eavesdropping. She angrily rolled her eyes.
"It's no big deal. I'm fine." I brushed aside their concern but was both pleased and puzzled as to why they seemed to care so much.
"Are you sure?" asked Mrs. Tarpley. "You slept for so long we were getting worried." She gently smoothed the hair away from my forehead, reminding me of something my grandma used to do.
"It must have been the heat." I couldn't look at any of them.
No one said a word, because we all knew whatever happened to me in the labyrinth had nothing to do with the heat. Then I noticed something I hadn't noticed before. I couldn't help but notice now with all of them so close to me. They were all wearing the same square, silver labyrinth ring Alex was wearing, even Mrs. Tarpley.
Almost before I could stop them, crazy thoughts flooded my sore head. What did the rings mean? What did those weird symbols in the center of the labyrinth mean? It suddenly hit me what the rotten egg smell had been. S
ulfur! Were they involved in some kind of satanic cult? Was the labyrinth a gateway to hell? Were they about to sacrifice me to some pagan god like they did in those creepy little backwoods towns in my grandma's Stephen King novels? The kind of towns where the Children of the Corn lived and everything seemed fine on the surface but all the townspeople belonged to a coven? Maybe it's what happened to Morgan Lake? They sacrificed her!
My stomach churned violently, and I stood up abruptly. I clamped my hand over my mouth and ran to the bathroom in the foyer and threw up. When I was finished, I stood up and caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a mess and my eyes were wild and crazy. I splashed cold water on my face and sat on the toilet to pull myself together. After a few minutes, I felt a lot calmer, and not to mention, like a big fool. I must have hit my head when I fainted to be thinking up such weirdness.
I used to drive my grandma crazy scaring myself half to death imagining hockey-masked serial killers were hiding under my bed after late nights up watching chiller theatre. If anything, these people seemed to be killing me with kindness. They'd hardly be treating me so nicely if they planned to kill me, would they? Still, there was something pretty strange going on, and I'd already caught them in one lie. Someone knocked on the bathroom door and I jumped.
"Are you okay in there, luv?" came Alex's voice.
I quickly rinsed out my mouth and came out of the bathroom. They were all, with the exception of Devon, standing in the foyer. I had to pull myself together. I didn't want them to know I knew they were all lying to me.
"You should be back in bed." Mrs. Tarpley put her arm around my shoulders and I allowed myself to be led up the steps.
"I'm sorry you had such a rough day, Mia," Mrs. Tarpley told me as I shrugged out of my robe and climbed into bed.
"I've had worse," I said, thinking about the absolute worst day of my life. A year ago, I'd come home from school and found my grandma sitting in her recliner in front of the TV cold and dead.
Mrs. Tarpley sat on the side of the bed and tucked the burgundy comforter up to my chin. "There. Now, when you wake up, you'll feel all better, and I'll make you a big breakfast. How do pancakes sound?"
"Sounds good," I replied in a small voice. My foster mother turned to go and I remembered what I'd meant to ask her earlier. "Mrs. T.?"
"Yes, ma chere." She sat back down on the bed.
"What did you mean this morning when you told Devon I belong here?"
She was thoughtful for a moment before answering. "Mia, I know what it's like to lose your family and be left all alone in the world," she said, looking so sad she might cry.
"You were a foster kid, too?" I asked in amazement. The fact my question hadn't exactly been answered was instantly forgotten in light of this new information.
"Not exactly," Mrs. T replied with a faraway look in her eyes.
I hoped she'd explain what she meant but she just stood up to go and when she did, I got another look at the ring she was wearing. She wore the ring on the middle finger of her right hand. I also noticed she still wore her wedding ring, which was a plain gold band.
"I like your ring." I watched her closely.
"Thank you." She was genuinely pleased. "I make jewelry as a hobby. I'll make you one, if you like."
Not knowing what kind of an answer I'd been expecting, and feeling kind of stupid, I just nodded and closed my eyes. Mrs. Tarpley turned out the light and left. When she was gone, I got out of bed and walked over to the window seat. The labyrinth seemed pretty harmless in the moonlight. They all knew what had happened to me in there. If they didn't they wouldn't try and keep me from going back. But I was determined to go back into the labyrinth as soon as I could.
When I stood to go back to bed, the hem of my nightshirt caught on the edge of the window seat. As I tugged it free, the seat moved and I realized the seat was also a lid. I lifted it and saw there was a large storage space beneath. Inside were some scraps of notebook paper, a folder, and old newspapers. Amongst the debris, I spotted a snapshot. I picked it up and held it to the moonlight streaming through the window.
It was a faded snapshot of woman who looked a lot like Mrs. Tarpley, but with much shorter hair, and an older man with a beard. The man had his arm around the woman's shoulders. The woman was dressed in a sleeveless, flowered mini dress. The man wore a brown suit, which was too big with a wide red-and-black striped tie. They were grinning and leaning against a wall, with the Eiffel Tower in the distance.
I flipped the snapshot over and saw the words Maddy and Ev, Paris 1970. So, it was Mrs. T. in the picture. Maddy must be short for Madeline. I figured the man must be her husband, Dr. Everett Tarpley. Then I froze. Cold fingers of fear crawled up my spine. Nineteen seventy was almost forty years ago, and Madeline Tarpley couldn't be more than thirty-five. If this was her, and it had to be because the woman in the picture had the same stud in her nose, even if she was twenty-five in the picture, she should be an old lady in her sixties now!
I switched on the light and read at the date again. The handwriting was faded. I guess the seven could have also been a nine. But, the snapshot itself was pretty old and the clothes they were wearing was identical to the stuff I'd seen my grandma wearing in old photos from the seventies. Feeling completely spooked again, I put the picture in the drawer of the bedside table, locked my bedroom door, buried myself under the covers, and tried to sleep.
Chapter Three
The next few days it rained buckets, and we all stuck close to home. Devon was still acting like a complete cow but Tomi and Lily more than made up for it. They seemed truly happy I was here and wanted to know all about me, which I didn't quite know how to take. For all I knew they could end up being as psycho as Brandy Gordon or as sneaky as the Higgins twins. Fortunately, the only things I found out about them so far were pretty harmless. Tomi was a chocoholic history geek who spoke four languages and had a collection of high-top tennis shoes in every color under the rainbow. Lily was working on a black belt in karate, and loved puzzles and cycling. I didn't know much about Devon. But she was rarely without her laptop and cell phone and strutted around like she owned the place.
I was itching to go back into the labyrinth. However, when Tomi and Lily weren't following me around like puppies, Alex or Mrs. T. picked up the slack by making me go with them on errands. I planned to sneak out one night when everyone was asleep, but Mrs. T. set the security alarm each night before she went to bed and I didn't know the code. Instead, I tried to pry information out of them. I badly wanted to ask them about the so-called rock-climbing trip on Saturday, but didn't want to tip them off about knowing they were lying. I decided to stick to safer questions, or so I thought.
"What was Morgan like?" I asked them casually on the afternoon of my fourth day there. Tomi and Lily shot each other a look. We were lounging around the TV room watching Spanish soap operas while Tomi demolished an entire pint of chocolate fudge ice cream. How did she stay so tiny? Spanish was one of Tomi's four languages and she could understand it perfectly, as did Lily whose family was originally from Mexico. I had to resort to interpreting hand gestures and facial expressions and still couldn't figure out what was going on half the time. I finally gave up and started sketching random objects in the room.
"She was cool," said Tomi, shrugging.
"She wasn't here long and we didn't get to know her well. But she was nice. She and Devon were tight," concluded Lily. They turned their attention back to the TV. Undaunted, I pressed on.
"Do you keep in touch with her?"
Once again Tomi and Lily exchanged glances before Tomi shook her head no and glued her eyes to the TV screen. I was getting nowhere with this line of questioning and decided to pursue another.
"What's the deal with Alex and Mrs. T.?"
"Hmm?" Lily asked distractedly, not bothering to look at me.
"Alex and Mrs. T.? Anything going on there?" Lily swung round to look at me with a horrified expression.
"You mean are they a co
uple?" Lily asked.
"Well, yeah." I said. Lily burst out laughing, causing Tomi to peel her eyeballs away from the TV.
"What's funny?" she asked us with a half smile.
"Mia wants to know if Alex and Mrs. T. are dating." Lily dissolved into laughter again.
"Eew!" Tomi scrunched up her face in disgust.
"What?" I said, throwing up my hands.
"First of all," began Tomi, sitting up straight in the leather armchair she'd been curled up in with the orange tabby cat, whose name was Casanova. “Mrs. T. is still jonesin' for her husband. Haven't you noticed she still wears her wedding ring, even though Dr. Tarpley's been dead for like ten years?"
"Plus, she's so old and Alex is only twenty-four. Oooh! Gross," concluded Lily, shivering in disgust.
"Oh, come on. She doesn't look very old to me." I remembered the picture I'd found.
"She's almost forty!" Tomi said, as if she needed no further evidence to prove her point.
It still didn't explain the date on the picture. It had to be Mrs. T. in the picture; since she'd told me she had no family, it couldn't be a relative. Her hair was longer but she looked exactly the same as she did in 1970.
"You don't you have a crush on him, do you?" Lily winked at me.
"Me? No! Guys, it was just a question." My face was burning, and Tomi patted my shoulder like she felt sorry for me. Great. Now, they thought I was crushing on Alex. I was so embarrassed I wanted to crawl under the rug.
"Do you guys ever hear anything strange in the foyer?" I asked quickly to change the subject.
"Like what?" asked Tomi? Lily ignored me and went back to watching TV.
"Like a weird, deep voice," I said.
"Uh… no," said Tomi, as she got busy scraping the last little bit of ice cream from the bottom of the container. "I haven't heard anything. It was probably just the TV."
"Heard what?" asked Devon, sauntering in and plopping down on the couch. She was wearing a skirt so short it could have been a band-aid.
