by Willow Rose
“When did this start?” Jess asks, addressed to Mark.
He looks at her while his heart is pounding in his chest. For so long he has managed to keep his mother’s condition a secret. He even thought he could get away with just telling everyone that his mother mistook him for being an intruder when she shot him. He is arguing within himself, while everyone in the room is looking at him. Can he confide in them? He knows they’re all his mother’s friends, that they’re only trying to help. But what will happen to her if he tells everything? Will they lock her away for good? Will he have to live with his father, his abusive and violent father? He can’t keep an eye on his siblings every hour of the day. He can’t protect them if they send them all back there.
“Mark?” Jess asks and moves closer.
He looks her in the eyes. He knows her well. Back several months ago, when his mother had the DUI and was forced to go to the meetings, she was there for her. Jess took good care of his mother and things had gotten better for a little while. A lot better. He knew Jess played a big part in that. His mother had trusted her. So maybe he could too?
“I first knew something was wrong three years ago when she started to sound different.”
“Three years ago?” Mary exclaims. Mark sees tears in her eyes. “You’ve been dealing with this for three years?”
“Yes. I don’t know precisely when it started, but she was just different all of a sudden. She didn’t drink that much back then. Not like she does now. But she never sounded happy. She didn’t get excited about anything like she used to, and then there was this story about some people from her work. She worked at the fitness center on 520, the HealthPlex, in reception, and one day she told me that some of her colleagues were jealous of her and that she was certain they were planning something behind her back. Then later, she told me one day that she wasn’t feeling well and that she believed that one of the scheming co-workers had stuck her with a needle with some drug to take her out of the competition for a top job. She kept complaining about feeling strange and said that she couldn’t concentrate, and said it was all due to the drug. She was obsessing about it at home, constantly blaming her co-workers. I knew something was wrong, but I was eleven. What could I do? I had no idea what it could be. Later, she quit her job because she was afraid and she told me she didn’t like to work on computers because the computers were bugged and they were trying to steal her many ideas. She believed she was going to invent something big and become a millionaire. All she needed was some peace and quiet to work on her ideas, and she couldn’t get that when working all day.”
“I bet she was so convincing you believed she would become a millionaire, right?” Jess says.
“We all did. She asked us to write lists of all the stuff we wanted to buy when we got all this money and places we would like to live. We were going to buy fifteen houses so we could live all over the world. She wanted so badly to take us to Spain. We started dreaming about all of it and couldn’t wait.”
“But it never happened. Instead, she got even worse, right?” Jess says taking his hand in hers. Mark feels like crying, thinking back on this, but he holds it back.
“Some days, I would come home from school and she would be sitting in the living room staring into thin air, completely zoned out for hours in a row. She would hardly blink or even change her expression. Then, after two hours like that, she would suddenly burst into laughter for no reason at all. Sometimes she would sit and stare at her hands for hours, when I would ask what was wrong with her hands, she would say they were different than they used to be. She would go from one job to another, but lose them as fast as she got them. One time when she worked at a restaurant, they called the house and told me she suddenly walked out of there and never came back. We didn’t see her for days. When she finally came back, she had no idea she had been gone.”
“Did she hear voices? Did she ever talk about that?” Jess asks.
“She did say that she talked to God sometimes and he told her the lottery numbers and that he was going to make us very rich. She would go into her bedroom and I could hear her talking to someone in there, even though she was alone. Sometimes she spoke in a language I didn’t understand. She would scream that we were all going to die, that we couldn’t drink the water because there was bacteria in it that was going to eat us up from the inside. She would tell me the walls had bugs in them. She told us we all looked different, my eyebrows were pointed upward and my ears had grown. She said things were moving when they were not. She stayed away more and more, and would come back thinking no time had passed, pretending like she hadn’t been away, and then if I said something, I could tell she really had no idea. I started grocery shopping and making sure the little ones took showers. We would eat cereal mostly for all our meals, and then one day she would come home with her hands full of groceries and start to cook or take us out to eat because we had something to celebrate, but not be able to pay for it. The restaurants usually took pity on us and didn’t call the police, but asked us to never come again. At the house, we never knew who would come in the door. Sweet and fun Mommy or weird Mommy or angry Mommy.”
“And all this time, you had to protect your siblings and take care of them, huh?” Jess says and strokes Mark gently.
“I was always afraid. Some weeks ago, she started telling me she believed the government was controlling me. That I was part of a plot against her and that freaked me out. She would yell at me or wait behind the door and then attack me, and try to beat me when I entered the house. Sometimes I would wake up and she would be by my bed in the middle of the night, staring at me, holding a baseball bat in her hand. I became afraid to come home, and I figured me being there only made things worse. So I stayed away sometimes even at night.”
While speaking, Mark had completely forgotten that the room was full of people, his mother’s friends. He couldn’t believe he told them everything just like that, but once he opened up, it felt like such a relief to finally tell, to finally talk to someone about this. Now he can feel the tears well up in his eyes and he can no longer hold them back. He lets them go and starts to cry.
“I am so sorry,” he says. “I have failed. I should have done more. I could have helped her.”
“No,” Jess says. “Listen to me. Your mother is very ill. I have to say, I had no idea. She hides it well. But it sounds like she might be suffering from Schizophrenia. That is very serious. She might be out there doing stuff that she has no idea of. She might be a danger to others and herself. We need to find her. We need to find her fast.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
January 2016
Monday is always a busy day for Kelly. She has to get up at six-thirty, make breakfast for all three of them, get Lindsey ready for school, make her lunch and drive her to school. Then she goes to Publix and gets everything for the coming week, planning every meal in detail, making sure it’s organic and non-gluten. Today, she even has to go to the dry-cleaners and pick up Andrew’s suit for his trip to Virginia. Then she goes back home, unpacks all the groceries, and has a quick cup of coffee before the cleaners arrive. Then she goes to the gym for an hour and a half, and grabs a sandwich when she returns to her newly cleaned house. After lunch, she does the laundry and calls the dentist to make an appointment for Lindsey, the half-yearly check-up that she always has in January. She drives to the library and picks up some books for her daughter to read before she goes back to the school and sits in the pick-up line.
The feeling of being observed seems to be gone today. Come to think of it, she hasn’t seen the truck at all today. Maybe it did help that they talked to the police on Sunday. Maybe whoever has been watching her saw them go to the police station yesterday and got scared? Maybe.
“Hi sweetie, how was your day?” she asks Lindsey as she gets into the SUV and they drive off.
“Meh,” the girl answers.
“Not good, huh?”
“Nicole is having a birthday party sleepover and I am not invited. She says her
mom doesn’t like me.”
“I am sorry,” Kelly says. She feels anger rise inside of her. She knows Nicole’s mom well. Who does she think she is?
Kelly gets a flashback to her own childhood and all the times she wasn’t invited to parties or kept out of the fun by mean girls in school. Being a teenager wasn’t a fun time for her. She hates that her daughter soon has to go through that as well. It makes her want to homeschool her.
“Can we go get some ice cream?” Lindsey asks.
Kelly looks at the clock. There’s a guy coming to look at the AC unit at four. It hasn’t been working properly lately. She really doesn’t have time for ice cream, but she can tell her daughter is really sad about the birthday-thing, and she wants to cheer her up a little.
“If we make it fast,” she says.
“Yes!” her daughter exclaims.
Kelly chuckles and takes a turn towards their favorite ice cream place in Melbourne Beach, Sundaes at the Beach. She is in a good mood today. No brown truck and no weird people in hoodies staring at her or accidentally bumping into her makes her relieved beyond compare. She hasn’t even received one phone call hang-up all day. She feels certain it is over. The small trip to the police station fixed it.
The sergeant there hadn’t been much help. He basically told them he couldn’t do much about it unless a crime had been committed, but he could tell his officers to drive past their house during the day, if that helped.
“That’ll scare them away,” Andrew told her afterwards, “Seeing a police car on the street. Don’t worry. They’re probably just waiting for us to go away so they can rob the house. But we’re not going anywhere, and once they see the police car, they’ll get lost.”
Kelly didn’t believe him when he told her, but now she has to admit, she was wrong. She is glad she was.
“I want a banana split!” Lindsey says, as they enter the shop.
The place is famous for its banana splits, so Kelly agrees to let her have one and she even orders one for herself. It’s been many years since she last let herself indulge in such a feast, but today she feels like celebrating.
Bellies full of ice cream, whipped cream, chocolate, and bananas, they drive back to the house and park in the driveway. They barely make it inside before the AC guy arrives. Kelly calls Andrew to let him know the guy is here, and then tells him about her day.
“Not once did I see the truck, Andy. I am certain it’s over.”
“That’s a relief,” he says. “Now we can go back to living our lives normally again.”
“I got your suit from the dry cleaners,” she says, while Lindsey starts her homework.
“Perfect. I’ll only be gone three days. You’ll be fine while I’m gone, right?”
Kelly looks at her daughter, who looks up and smiles. “I think we will. I really do think we will.”
“Great. Then I won’t feel bad for going. You know I have to go. It’s an important trip for the company.”
“I know. We’ll be just fine. Don’t worry.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
January 2016
I am devastated. Completely torn apart. How could Mark have been going through all of this alone? How could he have lived like this for three years and no one knew?
Poor kid.
I can tell everyone is thinking the same as we say goodbye to Mark in the hospital and leave. No one talks in the elevator; we’re all too torn up by guilt, and we can’t help being a little angry with Marcia, even though we all know she can’t help it.
Why didn’t she ask for our help?
We have decided to all do what we can to find Marcia and get her back, so she can get help. Chloe and I have decided to go back to Sebastian, where I saw her last, and start looking for her in that area. I have no idea how she got down there in the first place. With her DUI, I didn’t expect her to be driving a car, but again, with her, I really don’t know what to expect anymore.
Jess decides to go with us and we all drive in my car. Meanwhile, Danny has to go back to the fire station, while Alex and Sandra told us they’ll be looking for her in the Cocoa Beach area, in case she comes back. I look at the two walking close together, so close it’s hard to tell if they’re holding hands or not. I decide it’s not my problem anymore. Angry as I am with them, especially now with what I am going through, I realize it’s not my issue. If they want to make a mess, then they’re on their own. I warned them; there really isn’t more I can do.
“If she is, in fact, Schizophrenic, there really is no saying what she might do,” Jess says as we hit A1A. “She could very well be suicidal.”
“Do you think she might also be capable of killing someone?” I ask.
Chloe is sitting in the passenger seat. She looks at me. Our eyes meet. I can tell she doesn’t want me to tell Jess what Marcia told me, but I feel like I have to.
“Anything is possible, really,” she answers. “I mean, she shot at Mark, didn’t she? Why?”
I shrug. “It was just something Marcia told me when I was alone with her earlier on the beach.”
“You think she might have killed someone?” Jess asks, startled. “That is very serious.”
“No. I don’t think she did it, but…how do I explain this? She had these images, these visions that kept haunting her, she said. It might just be in her imagination. It didn’t seem real at all.”
“What kind of images?”
Chloe is signaling me to stop talking, but it’s too late. Jess wants to know. I feel like it’s a good idea to tell her, since Marcia told me she is a psychologist, so she should know about these things.
“I don’t know. Some kids and their parents lying on the floor, the mother bleeding and the children, she believed, were dead. She kept asking me if I believed she had killed them. That’s why I was wondering. Personally, I don’t believe she is capable of killing anyone. Not Marcia.”
“She did try to shoot her own son,” Jess says.
“She thought he was an intruder,” I say.
Chloe is being very quiet. I can sense that she doesn’t like where this conversation is heading.
“According to what Mark told me, she knew it was him,” Jess says. “She said to him that she believed he was working with the government in some conspiracy against her. But she was aware it was him when she pulled that trigger.”
I can’t say anything more to defend her. I haven’t heard Mark’s version of it, but I know in my heart that it is probably true, what Jess is saying. It just hurts so badly to know that my old childhood friend has lost it like this. The worst part is, I am starting to fear the worst. I am beginning to ask myself the question: Was Marcia there on the day the Elingston family was attacked in their own home and later killed? And if she was, then was she the one who brutally murdered that poor family? Could she commit such a horrendous act?
Chapter Forty-Nine
August 2006
“I don’t trust her.”
Daniel looks at his mother. She is better now and sitting by the fireplace of her house. She coughs between sentences, but has regained the color in her cheeks and the feistiness in her voice.
“She told me the other day that Peter doesn’t like pop music, that he doesn’t like to listen to it before bedtime. According to her, Peter told her so,” she says. “Peter loves music. Especially Kelly Clarkson. It’s not fine art, it’s not classy, but it’s what he enjoys listening to. And you know it, Daniel. Now she says he likes classical music instead.”
Daniel doesn’t speak. He looks at the wooden floors. He doesn’t want to say it, but he knows she is right. Peter loves Kelly Clarkson and listens to her all the time. She’s his favorite singer, and he even has his own little dance that he does, swinging his head from side to side when they put her on.
“No woman should tell me what my boy likes and what he doesn’t like,” their mother continues with an angry snort. “I cared for Daniel for twenty-five years. I already know what he likes.”
Daniel can’t blame her
for being upset. His other siblings that are present in the living room are troubled as well.
“She told me he likes brandy and champagne,” his older sister says. “Our brother never liked anything with alcohol in it. Remember when we let him taste wine? He spat it right out.”
“Maybe his taste has changed,” Daniel says. He is trying to defend Kristin, but he can see why they’re upset. He has noticed it too. Kristin has been moving in on all areas of Peter’s life. “It happens when you grow older. I didn’t used to like wine either, but now I do.”
“But she is changing everything,” Daniel’s older brother says. “Even the way Peter dresses. She told mother that what she bought for him was not what he liked to wear, then went out and bought all these suits for him, even shirts and ties. Why does Peter need to wear a tie?”
“I don’t know,” Daniel says with a deep exhale. He is tired of defending Kristin, but he feels like he has to. It was all his idea. He contacted her, he got her to care for Peter, and he was thrilled when she did. But now, he isn’t so sure anymore. What he believed was an opening into Peter’s world was starting to look more and more like a woman taking over his life. It was nothing like what Daniel had dreamt it would be.
“The reason I called you all to come today,” their mother says. “Is that we need to stop this woman.”
“What?” Daniel says. “But…but what about all the progress she has made with him? He goes to college now. He’ll get a degree.”
“To what use, Daniel? For what does he need this degree, exactly?” His brother asks. “It’s not like someone is going to hire him. It’s not like he can suddenly take care of himself. It’s great if he enjoys it, but I’m not so sure he understands anything.”
