All the Dark Corners

by Emerald O'Brien

  Don’t be here. Don’t be in the creek.

  I follow around the wide turn, signalling the end of this side of the creek is almost near. It runs out of the ravine and down a hill behind the new neighborhood.

  If she’s out here alone, she’s scared.

  I’m running out of breath, but I use the last of it to shout her name. It comes out more like a scream. “Stacy!”

  The trees surround me, and the fog would have me lost if I weren’t familiar with these surroundings. I run all the way to the end of the creek and stop, bending over to catch my breath as I realize the west end of the creek is clear.

  The east runs toward the small waterfall on the outskirts of town, much further through other bush and fields. If she’s not this way, she could be the other. I cross the creek and use the ground I’ve covered to search for her among the brush. I try to keep up the pace, watching the ground ahead at the same time, until I reach the place I started.

  “Stacy,” I holler.

  I haven’t seen her since she was three. I don’t even know what she looks like now.

  And she won’t recognize me.

  I slow down, fighting to catch my breath as the realization sinks in.

  I’m shouting her name. I’ll scare her.

  I sniffle, taking in the scent of burning leaves, and keep walking along the creek. If she’s in there, it won’t matter who recognizes who. I have to find her.

  I break into a run without taking my eyes off the creek, following the curve back through the ravine and out into the wide open overgrown field behind our houses. The fog is too thick to see anything. She wouldn’t have gone this far. There’s nothing out there to see or do. I should drive around.

  I jog up the hill, around the ravine to the street. Cliff and Amelia stop along the shoulder with their window down.

  “Sam, you’re back!” Amelia shouts with a smile.

  Fake. So fake. She’s not happy to see me. She watched me like a hawk with her judging eyes, just like the rest.

  I nod. “You guys didn’t see her in the neighborhood?”

  “Nope,” Cliff calls across Amelia, out the window. “Nice to have you home, Sam!”

  More bullshit, and while Stacy’s missing. I don’t have time for this.

  “Ted said she was asleep in Will’s old room by the back, and they found the window open,” Amelia says. “They didn’t leave it that way. It was too cold last night to have the window open.”

  Did she sneak out the window like Will used to? No. He was older then. Why would she do that?

  The damp sweat on the back of my neck sends chills over my body as I consider the alternative.

  No, I won’t consider it. I need to focus.

  “Nothing in the ravine, there?” Cliff asks.

  I shake my head and keep walking.

  A man with a tall stature and broad shoulders walks through the fog, down the sidewalk toward me. He gives me a double take as he approaches, and I’d know those green eyes anywhere.

  Will.

  He’s grown into more masculine features: a chiseled jaw, trimmed beard, and more upper body muscle than I could have imagined on him.

  He doesn’t slow down, so I turn around and walk with him. The Bakers are still in their car, watching us.

  “I just checked in there,” I say. “Didn’t see anything. I called and no one answered.”

  We walk in silence, and he won’t even look at me. I feel stupid. What am I even doing here?

  “She knows not to talk to strangers,” he mutters, and I stop as he jogs down the hill, disappearing into the ravine.

  I’m just a stranger, now, and he’s right. I’m nothing to her, but she was everything to me.

  My breath catches in my throat as my eyes glaze over, making it more difficult to see anything. I blink away tears, biting them back until my vision clears again.

  Will was my closest friend, and even though there were times we didn’t hang out for a while, I knew he would be there for me if I needed him. He knew I would, too.

  I did everything I could to help him with Stacy. I watched her when I could. Fed her. Played with her. It never changed the platonic relationship Will and I had, but it still made sense somehow that the three of us were together most of the time. We all cared for each other, but I mistook that as being a real family. Someone with a say in Stacy’s life.

  I was wrong.

  Cliff and Amelia Baker are still staring at me, watching my rejection.

  I got the hell out of here, and they didn’t. I begged Will, but he wouldn’t listen. None of them had the sense to get out because they’re stuck here. They want to be stuck here, with their sense of loyalty and protection over each other, while they hurt each other just the same.

  I turn around and pass the Bakers again, giving them a dirty look. I can’t help it. I don’t belong here anymore, and I’m not sticking around for these people.

  This—Stacy. This is what happens when you stay in Crimson Falls. They know better, but she’s just a child. She didn’t have a choice.

  I march up the driveway into the house. Mom’s struggling to put her coat on, and as she spots me, she stumbles back, losing her balance, falling against the basement door.

  She looks up at me with wide eyes, “Sam?”

  “I’m done here. I’m leaving,” I pant.

  “Wh-what do you mean?”

  “I’m leaving right now, with or without you. Are you coming with me or not?”

  Mom ignores me, zipping up her jacket, wobbling as she reaches out for her cane.

  “Here,” I say, grabbing her arm and holding her steady until she takes the cane from the door knob. “I mean it. I’m leaving right now. If you’re coming, there’s no time to pack.”

  She yanks her arm away from me and leans against the door. “You know I want to come with you, but I can’t leave now. Not with Stacy missing. Can we just wait ‘til she turns up?”

  I stare into her eyes, trying to figure out whether or not she realizes the gravity of the situation, or if she’s just pretending everything is fine to calm everybody, including herself.

  I can’t tell.

  “No,” I say, flustered. “I—I won’t wait anymore.”

  The words disgust me, and I wish they weren’t the truth, but I refuse to put blinders on about this town anymore.

  “Samantha Tillman, this is not how you were raised.”

  I open my mouth to defend myself, but she raises her voice.

  “Family looks out for one another. We taught you that. One weak link in the chain breaks us all, and—”

  “You told me that, but you didn’t show me.”

  “So when we bailed you out of jail the year you left, we weren’t lookin’ out for ya then?”

  I hate when she mentions that. It was a night I do my best to forget about, but the town never forgot. The neighbors used it against me.

  “Who else would’a bailed you out but us? Or when we gave ya the old Pontiac and didn’t ask for a single penny, we weren’t lookin’ out? Bought all your clothes, kept ya fed and a roof over your head, and we weren’t lookin’ out?”

  “Congratulations, Mom. You and Dad fulfilled a basic responsibility to keep your child fed, housed, and clothed. One thing you forgot? To keep me safe. How about the time I set the kitchen on fire after trying to make dinner for myself when you and Dad left for that weekend in Vegas? When I was ten!” She waves me away with her hand, but I continue. “Or the time when I was thirteen and you thought it was a hoot when Dad put me on the back of his motorcycle without a helmet. When he popped a wheelie, knocking me off and scraping my back so bad, I looked like a burn victim. I had a concussion, but you insisted I didn’t need to go to the hospital. I know it was because you were all drunk, and no one wanted to stop the party to drive me half an hour away or call the ambulance because the paramedics would see the way you’d handled it all. I threw up in my bed that night and would have died from choking on my own vomit if I hadn’t passed out on m
y side—”

  “That’s enough!”

  “Just trying to remind you of how it really was, because you’re in denial. Always have been. Some way to look out for your daughter.”

  “So we have our own definitions,” she says, shrugging. “You gonna make this day about you while Stacy’s out there somewhere, lost? It’s just like you to try to make it all about you. Beg for attention and get it any way you can.”

  Sure, blame me if it helps to keep you in denial.

  Mom’s staring past me, and I turn around to the open door. Amelia’s out on the Hutching’s lawn watching us.

  I slam the door shut. “I’m not getting into this with you because it goes nowhere!”

  “Because you don’t listen. We look out for our own. It’s a pact we made when we all moved in on Cherry Street, and it’s worked. It works because we put the effort in. Because we’re loyal. Because we care about each other.”

  I huff out an incredulous laugh, but she doesn’t stop.

  “You know what, Sam? Maybe you think there’s no other option but to leave here. You did it before; I know you can do it again. But maybe you’re gettin’ a do-over. Maybe, instead of running from your problems, you can face ‘em. Help us. Don’t you want Stacy to come home safe?”

  “Of course I do, but I—”

  “You’re one of us,” Mom says, but I shake my head. She smiles this all-knowing smile. “They’ve all been here for us. Whenever anything went down around here, ‘specially this time of year, we protected each other. You used to be a fierce’un. They were here for your Dad, when he had no family with him when he was dyin’. For me, after he passed, and when you didn’t come home. It’s my turn to be there for them. I’m goin’ over to the Hutchings’ now. I’ve gotta make sure that hot chocolate is ready for Stacy when she gets back.”

  She pushes out her bottom lip, hobbles past me, and opens the door again.

  I try to imagine Stacy coming home and sipping that hot chocolate, but I can’t. This town doesn’t work that way. Little boys and girls don’t get happy endings here.

  I run up to my old room, grab my bag and bottle of Tito’s, and stomp down the stairs, bursting out the front door as Mom meets with Amelia at the end of the driveway.

  “Sam!” Mitsy calls after me. “Could you make copies of this?” She rushes across the lawn from next door and hands me a four by six picture.

  It’s Stacy. I’d know her eyes anywhere, and her strawberry blonde hair only got a bit darker. She stares back at me with her green eyes and tight-lipped smile.

  And I break.

  I can’t leave her. Not like this. Not again.

  “The police just got here, and they advised we use the most recent picture to make copies, and put them around town. Hand ‘em out and…” She tears up, blinking down at the photo in my hands, and we exchange teary-eyed looks.

  I can’t believe she wants me involved in the search, but I nod. “I’ll be back soon, alright?”

  She lets out a huff of breath and nods, wringing her hands in front of her.

  “Coming right over!” Mom calls to her, hobbling her way toward their house, and I duck into my car.

  Make copies to hand out. Easy enough. I need the number to call. I guess it’s the same one.

  I back out of the driveway and roll my window down as Ted leaves the house with an officer I don’t recognize. “Same phone number?” I shout.

  He nods to me, a silent thanks, and I take off down the street.

  Stacy became the apple of Ted’s eye the moment he held her in the hospital. He was the first to hold his granddaughter as Will crumpled to his knees, buckling under the weight of the death of his baby’s mother and the new life she brought into the world as she left it. Mitsy did her best to comfort Will as Ted rocked Stacy back and forth, holding her tight. Holding the family together as my family and the Bakers watched on from the hallway.

  Stacy looks like her mom, but those eyes are Will’s. She looks happy in this photo, and I’m not sure how that’s possible in this town, but I don’t doubt Will has been a good dad.

  He did stupid shit right along with me. Followed me and Albert around and did as Albert told him to until Beth got pregnant, and then he straightened up his act. Never hung out with our group again, but somehow, that made us closer than ever. I was the only one he let in after Beth died. The only one, besides his parents, that he trusted with Stacy as a baby.

  She’s still innocent. Still has that bright-eyed look of hope that the world, and Crimson Falls, hasn’t managed to stamp out of her yet.

  I park the car at the newspaper, the only place in town with a photocopier besides the library, and have 100 copies made with her picture and the words:

  Stacy Hutchings. Seven. Missing. Last seen October 9th. If found, please call this number.

  I want to include a cash reward, anything that might help, but the people of this town are greedy. It would only play on the Hutchings’ emotions when people called in with fake sightings.

  A man hands me the copies and wishes me luck before I leave. I can’t remember his name, but his stare lingers.

  “And by the way,” he says, “these are on the house.”

  “Thank you.” I grip the huge stack with both hands. “It’s appreciated.”

  “You’re the Tillman girl, right?”

  I nod, bracing for whatever comes next.

  My reputation precedes me here as a troubled young woman, as if each person in town doesn’t have a closet full of their own skeletons.

  “You live next door to the Hutchings.”

  “I did.”

  “They must be just broken up over there. Probably blaming themselves?” I frown at him as he pulls out a notepad from his back pocket and takes the pencil from behind his ear. “Say, could I ask you a few questions for the paper?”

  “I’ve really got to get back with these,” I say, but the weight of the pile anchors me in place, in front of the man who gave them to us—free of charge.

  “Has a search party been set up?” he asks. “Where will you be looking today?”

  “Yeah, they’re waiting back at the house for me, so I better go…”

  “Have you heard if the police have any leads?”

  I shake my head and take a step back. I don’t owe him this, but that’s what he wanted. A favor for a favor. “I’ll pay for these if that’s what you want.”

  “No, no. I was just hoping—have the Hutchings said anything about—“

  I turn around and stride toward the door, ignoring his question.

  What did I expect? Nothing comes for free here, and people are waiting around every corner to take advantage of tragedy, swooping in to capture the wounded prey.

  As I drive back down Cherry Street, everyone but Mom is huddled in a group on the Hutchings’ front lawn with the officer, and they’re pointing at him and yelling. I park in the driveway and get out with the copies in hand.

  “…you’ll never admit you’re not actually trying…” Ted said.

  “And if you don’t go, we will!” Cliff hollered above him.

  “Settle down,” the officer said. “He’ll be my first stop after this one, but I need one of those flyers to take back to the station.”

  I step into the circle and hand him one. “What’s going on?”

  “Lawrence Hopcroft drove right by here,” Amelia said, her red nose bitten by the cold.

  “And he smiled at me,” Mitsy said. “Like he’s taunting us. Like he knows where Stacy is.”

  “If he lays one fucking finger on her—” Ted sneers.

  “Hey,” Will shouts, joining the circle, panting. “What happened?”

  “We think it could be Lawrence,” Cliff said. “He drove past here and gave your mother a look. He’s been by here every night for a week now,” he turned to the officer, “and we’ve tried to tell you Lawrence is a murderer, but you don’t listen.”

  They all think he killed my dad, and I—I need a drink.

 
; “I also didn’t lock you boys up after you almost beat him to death, did I?” The officer spat on the ground, and they all took a step back. “There was no evidence Hopcroft killed Mr. Tillman and there’s no evidence of malice here, yet. Let me do my job. Call me if you hear anything, and I’ll do the same. Pass those out and post ‘em everywhere. I’ll be back tonight to check in, and if there’s nothing, we’ll get a search party together in the morning.”

  “Why not now?” Will asks.

  “Because she’s not officially missing yet. She could be lost, or with a friend—“

  “She’s seven! She doesn’t go anywhere without me!” Will shouts.

  “This time, she did—”

  “Officer?” I say. “I hardly think now’s the time to point out the obvious. Like you said, how about you go do your job and bring Stacy home?”

  “Sammy Tillman,” he says, shaking his head. How does he know me? “Haven’t changed much, have ya? Same bad attitude. Same need to tell me how to do my job.”

  We’ve met before…

  “You really want to waste time on me?” I ask. “Go find her!”

  He grunts and spits again. He doesn’t look familiar, but maybe it was the night I went to jail… My stomach twists into a knot as the headache from this morning throbs at my temples.

  He shoots me a cold look but turns around and strides back to his patrol car. Will grabs the copies from my hand and divides them into small stacks, passing them out to everyone but me.

  Uninvited to the search, invited, and uninvited again.

  Amelia puts her hand on my arm and I turn to her. “Sam, it’s so good to have you back.”

  I bite my cheek and stare down at the ground as the neighbors stand there, ready for their orders. Will gives them each a part of town to canvas and jogs to his car.

  I should be going with him. We should be working together like we always did.

  “Want to come with us?” Cliff asks me, but I shake my head.

  “I have to talk to my mom.”

  Amelia gives me a knowing look before they go back to their car, and I hop up the steps to the Hutchings’ door, push it open and turn to see my mom at the window, staring back at me. “See? It comes natural to you.”