Castle Heights

by Sasha McDaniels

  “No, not that. I mean, he really wanted to show me around the mansion. And he wanted to watch a movie together.”

  “You stayed in the Thompson’s house long enough to watch a movie with him? What if you had been caught? Do you know how inappropriate all of this is? That boy is the son of my employer.”

  “I know, Mother.”

  “You know! Of course, you know. I don’t understand you. What part of your life is in danger do you not understand?” My mother paced the apartment.

  I sat down on the end of the bed. “What good is protecting my life if I have to live it like this?”

  “Any life is a good life,” my mother said.

  “Is it? Because I’m not so sure.”

  Silence hung between the two of us. “Maybe we ought to move from this place right now. Maybe I ought to quit my job and we ought to go. I can find another job,” she said dashing around the apartment frantically. “I’ll find someplace very remote. If I have to make a long commute, well then, that’s what I’ll have to do.”

  “No, please don’t,” I pleaded. “I don’t want to move again.”

  “Neither do I, but you give me no choice.”

  “Please, Mother. Punish me however you like. I deserve it. Punish me this one time. I promise never to disobey you again.”

  Tears filled my eyes. My lips trembled.

  “Any punishment I like?” she asked.

  “Any punishment,” I said.

  “Last time I threatened to punish you, you threatened to punish me.”

  I shook my head no. “I won’t do that again, Mother. I promise. You know I’ll never leave you, Mother.”

  “If you leave me, you know what will happen. You’ll be all alone in the world. There is no other person like you. And if they find you…”

  “I know, Mother,” I said.

  “Prepare for punishment then,” my mother said.

  “How should I prepare?”

  My mother grimaced. She propped her fists on her narrow hips. “In a minute, you will see,” she answered.

  3

  My mother instructed me to unleash my hair. I did as I was told, unsure of what my mother was going to do to punish me.

  I took my time undoing my braids. When I finished, my mother motioned for me to sit beside her on the couch. She reached out and ran her hands through my hair.

  I startled mostly because no one usually touched me. My shoulders shook as I felt my mother’s hands traveling through my hair. The nerves on my scalp were sensitive. My hair strands seemed to be filled with nerves of their own.

  Suddenly, my mother grabbed a wad of my hair and yanked it.

  I yowled.

  “Follow me to the bathroom,” she said, pulling me by my hair like it was a horse’s rein.

  “Ow,” I said with my head tilted some in an attempt to lessen the pain of being dragged by my hair.

  Once we were in the bathroom, my mother reached under the sink. She yanked out my makeup bag.

  The bag was full of stuff I had found over the years, stuff I had purchased over the internet with the small amount of allowance my mother gave me for keeping our house clean and the dinner cooked since she was always working. Usually, I used the money to purchase books, movies, and video games, but sometimes I spent it on personal care products.

  My mother emptied the contents of my makeup bag onto the floor. I heard some of the containers cracking as they hit the tile. A couple of wrongly shaded foundation bottles made a clinking sound, but they did not break. Same with a couple of bottles of cheap perfume.

  “Throw it all in the trash,” my mother ordered.

  “But, Mother, I can’t do that. It will take me forever to amass such a collection again.”

  “That’s not my problem. You disobeyed me. You said any punishment I’d like. Now, I could give you the other punishment, but since this is your first offense in a long time, I’m willing to forgo that one. Besides, it took you weeks to recover after the last time I punished you that way.”

  Instinctually, I put my hand to my head, feeling that other punishment. I couldn’t believe I had risked it all just for a moment alone with a boy so that I could watch a movie.

  The last time I received the other punishment had been because I had dared to venture outside of our trailer home. I only got about a mile away from the trailer before my mother caught me.

  She was supposed to be at work, but she came home early on the only day I had dared to venture outside.

  Tears burned my eyes. I didn’t want to throw out all of my stuff, but it was either that or a much worse punishment. My mother was showing me mercy, but I knew that if I disobeyed her again, she wouldn’t be so kind.

  As I was throwing some of my things into the trash bin, there was a knock at the door. I heard the knock even through the roaring in my ears.

  I stopped moving and listened. I heard a woman’s voice.

  “That will be quite enough,” I heard the woman say loudly.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My mother was being chastised by some woman in the other room. I couldn’t help myself. I poked my head around the door frame to have a look.

  I saw a tall striking blond woman with high cheekbones. She wore heavy makeup. She smiled at me when she noticed me.

  I jerked my head back into the bathroom. My heart pounded in my chest.

  “Reagan!” I heard my mother call.

  I stepped out of the bathroom, out into the main room. “Yes, Mother,” I said.

  “This is Mrs. Thompson. Please, come meet her.”

  I walked forward towards the woman with my hand extended. It’s what I saw people do on television when they wanted to express an explicit show of greeting. Mrs. Thompson took my hand, but I saw a startled flicker in her eyes as she shook it.

  “That’s very polite, you sweet girl. I hope your mother isn’t giving you hard time about being out with Ben. Ben, that boy, he seems to think that your mother might be abusing you.”

  My stomach dropped. I couldn’t believe Ben would tell his mother a thing like that. How could he dare to do that? Didn’t he know that such an accusation could get my mother fired from her job, that it could get me taken away? I vowed right then and there to stay as far away as possible from Ben Thompson.

  “My mother is not abusing me,” I said. I tried not to look at my mother. I didn’t need to. I knew she was fuming even if she didn’t show it.

  “I figured as much,” Mrs. Thompson said. “Though dry, your mother doesn’t seem like the abusive mother type to me. Although, it is the quiet ones you always have to watch out for. Ben tells me that you’re homeschooled, so I’m here to assure your mother that you should attend Castle Heights High. As a matter of fact, I’m prepared to make your attendance at the high school a condition of her employment.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Mrs. Thompson, I assure you that my daughter is too sick to—“

  “She seems fine to me,” Mrs. Thompson said, interrupting my mother. “I have a sense for these things, you know. But to make matters fair and clear, I have already called our family physician. He will come have a look at Reagan. If she is medically cleared, I’m afraid that I’m going to have to insist that you send Reagan to school. If you’re working for me, and I assure you there is plenty of work to be done in the house, you will have no time to see to Reagan during the day. Besides, the thought of this poor young woman being left alone here in this little apartment, all day long without any friends, well that just kills me. Castle Heights is one of the top high schools in the country. If Reagan attends there and does well, she’ll be able to attend any college she likes. I’d even be willing to help pay for University for her as a part of your compensation package.”

  “Oh no, we couldn’t Mrs. Thompson,” my mother protested.

  “I think this will be the best job you will ever have, Elise. If you refuse my offer, if you run from here, I’ll have the police on your heels. They’d love to get their hands on you for you
r past misdeeds.”

  I was stunned. I had no idea why Mrs. Thompson wanted to do all that she was saying. Why was she was being so pushy about me going to school? And she even offered to pay for my college? I had never even really entertained the thought of going to college. College just seemed like too lofty of a goal.

  My mother’s eyes darted back and forth. She looked helpless. I think my own expression at the time was that of horror. I wasn’t sure what Mrs. Thompson meant by past misdeeds seemingly committed by my mother. What I did know was that my mother would do anything to keep me safe—unfortunately, though, the way she kept me safe was by keeping me away from others.

  “Please, Mrs. Thompson, I don’t want to go to school,” I said, lying.

  “How do you know? Have you ever been?” Mrs. Thompson asked.

  “Well, no,” I said.

  “Then how do you know that you won’t like school?”

  “She can’t go. I’ve told you. She’s ill,” my mother interjected.

  Another knock on the door interrupted the conversation. “That must be Doctor Olsen. Please let him in, Elise.”

  My mother hesitated. The last thing she wanted was for me to be seen by a doctor. “Now!” Mrs. Thompson shouted.

  Even though I didn’t like being held prisoner by my mother, I also didn’t like the way Mrs. Thompson ordered my mother around.

  My mother scurried to the door. When she opened it, a man, short, balding, and gray-haired, stood in the doorway. “Nice to see you, Jennifer,” he said. “You look well.”

  “As do you,” Mrs. Thompson said back to the doctor. The doctor pushed into the apartment.

  He carried with him a messenger bag slung over his chest. He shoved out of his coat and pulled off his scarf. He flipped the bag open and pulled out his stethoscope. He wrapped the stethoscope around his neck, and then he extended his hand to me. “I’m Dr. Olsen. But the kids call me Dr. O. Call me whatever you like.” A warm smile spread across Dr. Olsen’s face. His smile immediately put me at ease.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “This girl has a warm, firm handshake. That’s a good sign.” Dr. Olsen reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of something. He squirted some of the bottle’s contents into his hands and rubbed his hands together. “Sanitizer,” he said.

  “Oh,” I said, nodding.

  “I’d prefer it if Reagan only saw our family doctor,” my mother interjected.

  I wasn’t sure what family doctor she was referring to. We had no family doctor. I’d never even been to a doctor of any kind. Anything that happened to me, my mother usually took care of. Once when I broke my arm, my mother set it to heal.

  “This will only take a moment, Ms. Harris. I assure you that Reagan will be safe in my care,” Dr. Olsen said.

  “Really I don’t think—“

  “That will be enough, Elise,” Mrs. Thompson said.

  “You don’t have to speak to her like that,” I said, surprising myself.

  Jennifer Thompson seemed just as surprised as everyone in the apartment that night that I had set her in her place.

  The front door flew open and in walked Ben. What was this? Some sort of a party?

  I huffed and shot Ben an angry look as soon as our eyes met. He wasn’t wearing a coat, even in the terrible weather. I didn’t know how he could stand it.

  “I’m here for moral support,” he said. “I saw Dr. Olsen’s car pull in.”

  “Hello there, Ben. You look good. Haven’t been to see me in a while. We may need to discuss some vaccines.”

  “My father already had the talk with me, Dr. Olsen. No need to worry.”

  “Good then,” Dr. Olsen said with a smile.

  I wondered why Jennifer and Ben Thompson even needed to be seen by a doctor if Mr. Thompson was a doctor himself.

  “Now, where shall we commence the examination?” Dr. Olsen asked.

  “The bed will be fine,” Jennifer said. “It’s back there.” She pointed to the bed I had slept in for the past two nights. The bed was unmade because I had rushed out of it earlier in the day to hang out with Ben.

  I sat down on the end of the bed, while my mother hovered near me like a nervous pecking hen. She was gnawing on her thumbnail. I wasn’t sure why she hadn’t made more of a fuss about all this.

  Why was she allowing Dr. Olsen to come near me? She too had powers. Of course, she only used them under the direst of circumstances. I’d say the circumstances called for them.

  Mr. Olsen knelt down before me. “Now just relax,” he said. “I’ve been a doctor longer than you have been alive. You can trust me to take good care of you.”

  I tried to smile, but I couldn’t manage it. “What are you going to do to me?” I asked.

  “Just a quick examination. That’s all.” He reached for his stethoscope. He placed the round part of it onto my chest. “Now take a deep breath. Then exhale.”

  I did as Dr. Olsen told me to.

  “Heartbeat is strong. Breathing is clear. Sounds good to me in there.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a small machine with an arm brace of some sort hanging from it. “This is just a little old portable blood pressure machine. I bring it along on my house calls.” He wrapped the brace around my arm. “And now open your mouth.” He stuck the thermometer in between my lips. He waited a minute before he removed the thermometer. “Temperature is a little below the norm, but nothing to alarm me,” he said. The arm brace tightened around my arm. He waited until a beeping sound came from the machine. “Blood pressure is normal.” He moved his hands around my throat. “Now, please, lay back on the bed.” I did so, even though I really hated what was happening. I wondered if everyone else felt the same as I did about having to undergo a medical examination. Dr. Olsen pressed around my abdomen. “Feels good. There is absolutely nothing I can see that gives me the idea that there is something wrong with this young woman. I’ll need to take blood and have that tested, but I can have the results for you by the end of business tomorrow, Jennifer.”

  “Great,” Jennifer said, clapping her hands together. “If her blood checks out then I’d say, she’s good to go to school.”

  “I agree,” Dr. Olsen said. Then he turned to my mother. “What is it the other doctor said was the matter with her, Ms. Harris? Forgive me for not asking you before I examined her, but I wanted to be sure that I was not persuaded by any bias.”

  My mother swallowed. Her eyes turned dark. What could she say? Now she looked like a fool at best and a liar at worst. “I’d rather not say,” she said. “It’s apparent that that doctor was lying to me for some sick twisted reason.”

  “But you can see that the young woman is well,” Dr. Olsen said, closing in on my mother. “I hope that it was not you who suggested to this doctor that your daughter was ill through some persuasion. Some parents are known to do things like this.”

  I knew what the doctor was getting at. I had seen a movie once about this woman who was making her child sick. She was suffering from a disorder called Munchausen by Proxy. Parents with the disorder faked the sickness of their child in order to gain attention for themselves. Some of them often steeped so low as to make the kid sick by poisoning them.

  “It’s nothing like that,” my mother said. She dropped her head. It surprised me to see her so shamefaced and subservient in front of these people.

  “So, call me in the morning with the results then,” Jennifer said.

  “In the morning? No, Jennifer. The end of business is when I can—“

  Jennifer held up her hand in Dr. Olsen’s face. She was really good at interrupting people. “I will need those results first thing in the morning,” she said. “Even if you have to do the lab work yourself.”

  Dr. Olsen cleared his throat before adjusting his collar. “Fine then. It’s what you pay me for, right? Personalized, quick service.”

  I tried to read Dr. Olsen’s face, to see if he meant to be flippant.

  “Thank you, Dr. Olsen,” Jennifer said. She showed Dr. Ol
sen to the door.

  The entire time, during this whole fiasco, Ben stood quietly back in the corner of the room. After the doctor was gone Jennifer spun on her heels. The pointed toes of her cream colored high heels fixed on me like the needle of a compass. “You, my dear, are in for a treat. Castle Heights High is the bestest of the best.”

  The bestest, hmm, I thought. What an interesting choice of words. I scowled at Ben.

  He scowled back at me.

  I supposed we’d settle the issue the next day after the doctor’s results came back. That was if I lived till then.

  If I hadn’t left the apartment that day. None of this would have happened. Even if I lived, the chance that I would still be in town in the morning was slim to none.

  “I think that Reagan should sleep in the house for the night,” Jennifer said. “In case you get any ideas, Elise.”

  My mother’s mouth fell open. I wanted to reach over and pick it up off of the floor for her, but I was too busy putting my own mouth back together.

  “She most certainly will not!” my mother shouted. “She is my daughter. I don’t appreciate how you’ve just barged in here and ordered me around.”

  That was the mother I knew.

  “I’m sure you don’t appreciate it, Elise, but you and your daughter are apart of our family. With her father not being around, I suppose you need some support. That’s all I’m trying to give.”

  “Seems to me you’re trying to do more than that. You’re trying to run our lives,” my mother said. “Besides, I’ve made it this far without any of your support.”

  “Just how far have you made it? You stand here lying to my face about your daughter being sick. You’re still clinging to the old way of doing things.”

  “Reagan is mine,” my mother said.

  “Dear sister, you know I’m bossy,” Jennifer said. “It’s something I can’t help. You know I’ve been this way since we were kids.”

  “Wait, what? Sister?” I asked.

  “Yes,” my mother said, stepping towards me.

  My stomach dropped. “So that means that Ben and I are cousins?”