“In a sense, yes. If you drift there, when you wake up, you will not be in a drift anymore. I know this is confusing, honey.”
He laughs at me as if I’m the one who’s confused. “This isn’t confusing, Mommy, I get it.”
I grab the notebook and Alex's leather jacket and clutch them both tightly against my body as I slide down against the wall. These items are part of my heart, please let them stay with me, I plead .to my screwed up brain. I pull Sammy down with me and ask him to count backwards with me. He laughs again and reminds me that he doesn’t need to count before he drifts. This kid still amazes me more and more every day.
With the world that once made me happy, spinning around my head like a vortex, I fall aimlessly into the darkness that I’ve tried so hard to stay away from. But in the end, it seems that this is the only place I’m meant to be, some place where my mind is actually connected to my body—reality.
I open my eyes and find Sammy rubbing his eyes next to me, waking up as if he just had a restful night’s sleep. “Ready to go now?” he says, with a croaky voice.
I look down at my clenched hands and tears drop from my eyes when I see Alex’s jacket, notebook and my ring still with me. I guess they really are a part of my heart.
I wipe my eyes and suck in a deep breath, reminding myself that I have to continue to be strong for Sammy. “Yes, Sammy, but we’re taking the long way this time.” I open the top drawer and pull out the emergency credit card Charlie left for me in here. I’ll pay her back, somehow.
***
An excruciating and terrifying cab ride later, we arrive in hell—or my mother’s house, as I should probably refer to it, for Sammy’s sake. I never wanted my mother to meet Sammy, or to ever have an effect on his life. Now, I’m about to welcome her back, but hardly with open arms. I’m back at square one—no drift, no escape, and no Alex. But at least I have Sammy.
I walk in through the front door with hesitation, unsure of what to expect after Alex and I drifted here the other day. That was in my drift though, and this is real. There will be none of Franco’s summoned men waiting for us this time. That was all in my head.
I turn into the kitchen with Sammy’s arm clenched between my fingers. My mother is spinning around the kitchen whipping up some kind of burnt food I’m sure. A stroke of shock hits my nerves as my eyes dart over to the kitchen table. Is that—?
“Dr. Greene, Mother?” I say abruptly.
My mother twists around, brushing the bangs out of her face. “Chloe?” She seems startled by my presence.
I swallow the knot in my throat as I say, “Yeah, it’s me. I’m home—I mean, here.” While I feel a momentary sensation of being a child here again, I regain my awareness of the surroundings—my son standing behind me and my goddamn therapist sitting at my fucking breakfast table. “What are you doing here?” I direct my narrowed eyes at Dr. Greene.
“Honey, it’s not how it looks,” my mother says, stumbling over her words. Dr. Greene, ashamed and suddenly shy looks away from me and down to his twiddling fingers.
“I’m pretty sure it’s exactly how it appears.” I nod my head, shocked by this, but then again, should I be this surprised after what she did to me in the first place? He’s always been in on this with her. I shouldn’t have been so naïve to think they were over after he was fired.
“Sammy?” my mother reaches behind me, seeking out Sammy’s hand. I push him away, instinctively and protectively as a mother bear would do with her cub. “I’m your—“
“Don’t even think about saying that to him. You aren’t even worthy of being called a mother.”
Sammy disregards my hovering behavior and places his hand into hers. Do I rip him away? She doesn’t deserve his kindness. "Sammy, what are you doing?" I ask, keeping my voice quiet.
"What do I have to do to make things right with you, Chloe?" She wipes a dripping tear. "I want to be a part of your and Sammy's life."
"Of course you do, now that Alex is gone."
"What? What are you talking about?" she asks, sweeping her bangs out of her eyes again.
I open my mouth, but the words don't seem to come out. I can feel the rush of pain moving up from my stomach through my throat and burning the nerves behind my eyes.
"Daddy died," Sammy says softly, reaching for my hand.
My mother places her hands over her chest and takes a couple of hesitant steps toward me. "What happened, Chloe?"
"You got your wish," I respond.
"What is that in your hand?" she asks, staring at Alex's notebook.
"Nothing." I place it behind my back. "Sammy, let's go." I reach for his arm. "Oh, and by the way, please tell Dad I miss him. I'd like to know where he is." I pause and wait for any type of response. Her eyes glaze over and she stares aimlessly through the window behind me. Oh for God’s sake, what the hell is wrong with her now?
She snaps out of her blankness, ignoring my comment and looks over at Sammy again, but this time with a peculiar fake smile. "Chloe, I just want to get to know my grandson. Please don't take him away already."
"Why? So you can corrupt him too?" I snap. "Sammy, let's go. Now." I tug on his arm and pull him out the front door. "God help you if you did anything to Dad. I will find out," I yell behind me. “And you,” I look back at Dr. Greene. I place my hands over Sammy’s ears. “You’re a lousy excuse for a human being, and you’re an asshole. Go ahead and fuck my mother. You know where that’ll get you?” I release one of my hands from Sammy’s head and shove two fingers into the side of my head. “Your mind will end up just like mine. That’s what this woman does to people.” I cover Sammy’s ears once more. “She mind-fucks people until they want nothing more than to die. So I guess this is what you deserve. You two deserve each other.”
I pull Sammy out of the house and slam the door behind us. The second our feet hit the driveway Sammy stops and pulls his arm out of my grasp. "Mommy, stop. You have to finish reading what Daddy wrote to you. Please."
“Why, Sammy?” I turn him around to look at me. I crouch down to his eye level. “Tell me what you know.”
He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I only know that Daddy told me to make sure you read his entire notebook.”
“Where is Daddy right now?” I’m terrified to hear his response.
He giggles a little as if I just said something funny. For the life of me, I can’t find anything funny about this. “He’s awake.” He laughs again. “That’s all, Mommy. He’s just awake.”
Awake?
“Can you explain that to me?”
He shakes his head and says, “Just read the notebook.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
UNTOLD TRUTHS
I DON’T KNOW where to go. I could circle around here for hours and still not have a clue as to what I’m supposed to do next. Although, all answers lead me back to the notebook. I can’t understand why he wouldn’t just tell me everything he needed me to know when he was alive, rather than making me dissect word by word every page in his notebook. The only things I’ve read so far are breaking my heart, not giving me the information I need.
The street leads me to the town library, and I'm reminded how I've never been allowed in here before. My mother was always afraid I'd make too much noise and people would stare. It wasn’t like I had outbursts or even left my mother’s side.
The scent of dust and old lady’s perfume floats around us. It smells comforting. I lead Sammy to the back of the library, away from anyone else. There is a set of leather couches in the shape of a square, with a large oak coffee table in the center. On one side of the couches there is a shelf filled with children’s books. I pull down a stack of the books and set Sammy down next to me.
Sammy doesn’t touch any of the books I give him. Instead, he turns his body to stare at me. "Sam, this is going to take me a while to get through," I remind him.
He takes the notebook from my hands and opens it to the middle of the book. “Then, start here.” He smiles.
&nbs
p; ALEX
She found out about the locket. But I think the thought of it still confuses her. How do you explain to someone that the tangible items in our dream world are mere representations of things in our minds? Maybe I’m not doing a good enough job of explaining this to her. Maybe I don’t want to. She’s happy here, and I want her to feel like this place can be as real as the painful world her body currently exists in. Maybe I’m selfish. I don’t want this dream to end, and it will if she figures out what the locket actually represents. I don’t want her to wake up until I wake up.
If I explained this to her, she’d think this is just a simple dream, and I didn’t exist. But in reality, we’re carving a different path for our lives to take. I know the mind is made up of fact, fiction, happiness, and fears. Chloe’s mind seems to play out her worst fears, but at the same time, the things that make her happy.
That’s what makes her special. That’s what allows her to dream like others can’t. Her dreams actually mold her future; they create the path that she will always be happy with. She will always know which way to go and what to do. She’s lucky. Nevertheless, she doesn’t know it. Most people contemplate life decisions not knowing which choice will be the right one. However, Chloe will always know what will lead her to the life she wants to live.
Seriously Alex? Was anything you ever told me the truth? How the hell am I supposed to find this stupid locket if it’s in my freaking head?
I dig my nails into the leather couch, and Sammy reaches across me and turns the page in the notebook and points to the top line. How does he know what it says? He can’t read yet. This is becoming more infuriating by the minute.
ALEX
Chloe, if you're reading this, I'm no longer around and I'm so sorry for the pain I must be causing you right now. But, like I hopefully explained, things had to happen this way in order for us to both have our happy ending.
You're probably about to get pretty angry, so, take a deep breath and look away from Sammy.
Your mother has the locket, and she doesn't want you to have it. She controls your mind. She made it that way when you were seven years old. When I handed you the locket as a little girl, you went home and told your mother about it. She knew exactly what it was, what the meaning of it was. It was the cause of your sporadic unconscious moments; the part of your mind that kept shutting out the real world. She wanted to make sure you never found it again. She wanted to make sure you couldn’t access that part of your mind again. When you can, you will wake up.
Chloe, right now, you are stuck in a dream. A lucid dream. The locket will help you wake up. It will give you a fresh start. It will change the path your life is heading in.
All of your fears will be proven wrong. The hatred in your life will become happiness once again. Your childhood will contain memories. Your dreams will just be dreams. You will be normal. No more nightmares. Your parents will love you for who you are.
Because I am gone now, it is the right time to retrieve the locket from your mother. I know the struggle you will go through to locate it with her, and I know she is a force to be reckoned with. But, I promise you this—when you find it, you will see me again.
Good luck, Chlo. I can't wait to see you again.
Love,
Alex
Okay, so let me get this straight. The necklace isn't really The Necklace of Death, yet when I get my hands on the contents of the locket, I will be with Alex again—who's dead. Sort of still sounds like a symbol of death to me. Does he want me to end my life too? Is that what this is all about? I couldn't leave Sammy behind and I never will. Maybe my mother should hang onto The Necklace of Death. It might do her some good.
I turn to look at Sammy, but quickly notice that he's gone. "Sammy?" I shout across the library. I stand up and frantically begin searching through every row of books. When I reach the last row, I feel a hand on my shoulder and I whip my head around. My eyes meet the chest of a tall man and my stomach immediately begins doing summersaults, fearful of the gray suits catching onto the trickery Alex caused before he died.
As my eyes travel up his chest, I notice that he isn't wearing a suit. He has a simple loose fitting grey shirt, covered by a leather jacket. His hair is blond and gelled back, and his eyes—I know those eyes. But from where?
He leans down until he’s eye-level with me. "Hey. Everything is going to be fine, trust me. Just do what he says." The man smiles a familiar crooked grin and places a kiss on my cheek before turning around and disappearing behind a bookshelf.
I turn around and fall against a rack of books, shoving the palm of my hand into my eyes. It can't be—
"Mommy?"
I plunge forward onto my knees and grab Sammy by the shoulders. "Where were you, Sammy? You scared me," I scold him.
"I was just putting the books back," he says, smiling a mischievous smile.
"Do not walk off from me again. Do you understand?" I reprimand him, standing back up to catch my breath.
Sammy giggles, grabs my hand and leads me toward the exit. “Where did you go?” I ask, stepping out into the cold.
“You know.” He laughs again.
“Humor me. Tell me where you went?” I know I’m getting angrier than I should. But my own son knows things that I don’t know. I feel like I’m reading my own story.
And Alex and Sammy are the writers.
“Sammy?” I pull his attention away from the pavement. “Where did you go?”
“Far away. A long time from now.” He looks back down at the ground.
“Uh huh. That’s what I thought.” He drifted to the future. He knows what he’s doing. I know he can control it. But I wish he wouldn’t drift. It scares—Oh shit.
I sound like my mother.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I. Am. Not. My. Mother.
I shake the thought out of my head. I am not like her. I love Sammy. I want to protect him. I don’t hold him responsible for the way my life has turned out. I want him to be happy. But I want him to be safe, too.
“Sorry, Mommy,” Sammy says quietly. “Sorry I scared you.”
I wrap my arm around him and place a kiss on top of his head. “It’s okay. I know you’re trying to help me.”
The rest of the way back to the house, I ponder my plan of action to find where my mother has hidden the locket. Does such a thing even exist? I’m not sure I can understand how a tangible object can represent something that’s locked in my own head.
Could it be as simple as finding it in one of those boxes in my bedroom closet—where the rest of her hidden gems are? Am I supposed to have more clarity when I see this thing? Are all of the answers just going to come together for me? It is going to tell me how to fix my life, how to end it, or how to restart it? I know I need to read more. But I’ll be more eager to get through the notebook if I at least have the locket in my possession. Because right now, I have no idea how easy or hard it will be to acquire it, and the notebook is only causing me more pain and sorrow. It’s torturing me actually.
We round the corner to the street in which my childhood home penitentiary resides. My mother’s car is no longer in the driveway. She and Dr. Greene must have a hot date somewhere. I shudder from the thought.
“Grandma is gone,” Sammy says.
“Don’t call her that. She’s hardly a mother, never mind a grandmother.”
“What?” he asks, confused by my remarks about the woman who should love me the way I love him.
“Never mind. Let’s get back inside. Mommy has to find something.”
“I know, Mommy. You have to find the locket,” he says, bobbing his head back and forth, as if he’s heard this a million times and I’m boring him with my repetitiveness.
“You know about the locket?” I ask, amazed by his awareness.
“I’m four. Not dumb,” he says, as he rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out the side of his mouth. I’ve seen Alex make the same face anytime I accused him of not knowing something I may have been more knowledgea
ble of—which I’m now seeing, is nothing. He was more perceptive about many things than I was. No wonder I got that look from him so often.
I settle Sammy down at my computer desk with a couple of markers and a pad of paper. “Here, draw a picture. Draw whatever makes you happy.” I smile at the thought of the drawing I made when I was just a little older than he is—the one Celia told Alex and I to draw of our ‘happy place.’
Sammy gives me a wide smile. “I know what makes me happy.” And I have a feeling whatever it is, will make me cry, again. This is not going to get any easier. I close my eyes for a brief second, imagining Alex here with me, watching Sammy draw his “happy” picture. I can almost feel him. He has to still be with me, somehow, someway. He’s part of my heart, so shouldn’t he still be here too?
A marker slams against my desk and my eyes bat open. “Red is next,” he says, using his four-year-old playful voice.
I turn around and eye the closet doors that conceal so many hidden secrets. Secrets that led me to Alex. Secrets that led me to Tomas, Franco, and James. I cross my fingers behind my back as I pull open the wooden door. The screaming noise the metal makes as they press against each other gives me goose bumps like it did as a child. I never got used to that noise and it still shoots chills up my spine. It’s like I’m releasing the ghosts that live in this closet.
There they are. All of the boxes are still lined up in three solid columns on the top shelf. I pull them all down. I dump each box out over my bed until my entire twin sized bed is covered in piles of notes, letters, and pictures. I sift through all of it until everything lies flat against my comforter. I place the contents back into the boxes, one piece at a time, making sure I don’t miss anything, like the locket. But there’s nothing here that doesn’t resemble some type of paper.
I knew it wasn’t likely I would find this thing that easily. I sit down on the bed and stare through the multiple boxes of what I’m now considering to be nothing more than trash. Where else can I look for it? It has to be in this house somewhere.
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