Arrival of the Traveler

by A.L. Tyler

  Over the next month, Lena and Ava spent many hours every day together, asking and answering questions. Lena was urged by her mother to spend any spare time she had reading, which she did. However, she found herself more bogged down by questions the more she found, or rather, didn’t find, in the library. The house kept changing in disorienting ways—new windows and doors popped up overnight, furniture moved, pictures of people who she vaguely resembled appeared on the walls. The rooms on the third floor were starting to fill up, and one of the locked doors mysteriously unlocked itself one day. Behind it, Lena had found a staircase that spiraled downward before abruptly dead ending against a wall.

  Lena hadn’t spoken to David alone since the day he had given her the bracelet, though she occasionally saw him through the windows. She only saw him briefly at dinner, and recently not at all, due to the fact that he had become ill. Ava, Lena decided, was adjusting to parenthood in waves. At the moment, she seemed to be making up for the protectiveness she had not exerted since her split with Aaron. Lena had not stepped foot outside the Waldgrave house since her mother’s arrival, at her mother’s bidding. Lena would wander the house, discovering new things, thinking she was alone, only to turn around and find Ava, standing or sitting quietly, watching. Lena often wondered about the look in her mother’s eyes; it was almost a crazed look, as though Ava were obsessed with her. She watched her day and night, sneaked into her room when she slept, ate every meal with her, sat with her when she read—it was as though she was afraid Lena would evaporate as suddenly as things in the house seemed to appear.

  Lena was smothered. She had never in memory spent so much time in the same place, with the same strangers. They weren’t strangers anymore, and while most people might have found that thought comforting, it was a foreign territory to Lena. A situation that needed to be remedied as quickly as possible. When the opportunity to temporarily escape presented itself, she fought for it as though her life depended on it.       

  They were at breakfast. As Howard started into his eggs, he raised the issue of shopping.

  “I’m sending out Mrs. Ralston later to get supplies. Is there anything either of you need?”

  “Can I go?” Lena asked. Ava almost choked on a piece of toast.

  “N…no.” Ava wiped her mouth with the napkin, and then grabbed her glass of juice.

  “Why not? I haven’t been out in, like, a month! Please?”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Ava set her glass firmly onto the table.

  “Mom, I need new clothes. I’ve been wearing the same five shirts over and over again since I got here. And there’s other things, too…”

  “Your clothes are fine. They’re beautiful. And you can always wear mine. What about all of my old ones that my father gave to you?”

  Howard made a disgruntled face at the mention of the contraband clothing.

  “Mom, it’s not personal or anything,” Lena chose her words very carefully, “I really need some personal space. I need some time away…because constantly being around the same people is starting to get to me. And I’m really, really opposed to wearing dresses all the time.” Lena took a breath. “Not that they don’t look great on you.”

  Silence.

  Howard seemed to warm at the idea that Lena was rejecting the so-called gifts. “Ava, be reasonable. She’s been trapped in this house for long enough—she should get out.”

  Silence.

  “Only if David goes.” Ava looked challengingly at Howard. How dare he challenge her decision that Lena wasn’t going? She was the parent; he wasn’t.

  “Why David?” Howard looked confused.

  “You know why.” Ava threw down her napkin. Her lower lip was starting to tremble.

  “Yeah—why David?” Lena looked at her mother. Ava’s eyes were glassy. She didn’t look up to answering the question. She looked to her uncle, “Howard? Why David?”

  But Howard was ignoring her. “I can’t lose both David and Rosaleen. There’s too much to get done around here. Besides, David’s been ill.”

  Lena looked back and forth from Ava to Howard; the two of them seemed locked in an invisible chess match. “Mom’ll help you. Why is this such a big deal, anyway?”

  Howard sighed.

  Lena tried again. “Or, what if you went with me and Mrs. Ralston, and then David could stay and work?”

  Ava’s eyebrows raised in defiance. Lena was suddenly aware that they had been staring at each other quite intently for some time. Howard finally spoke.

  “If I send David with the list, then can she go?” Howard spoke very quietly.

  Ava pursed her lips as she considered the proposal. “Okay. Remember to take your cell phone.”

  “Please. It goes everywhere with me anyway.” Though I don’t know why. It’s not like I have any friends.

  Howard cleared his throat. “Well, I guess that will have to do. Lena, I’ll have Mrs. Ralston make out a list of everything we’ll need. David has a credit card he uses for living expenses, and he can charge it. Mrs. Ralston’s very particular about getting the right brands, so be sure David doesn’t just grab the first laundry detergent or toilet paper he sees.”

  An hour later, Lena found herself joyfully running toward the barn, a long list of household supplies clutched in her hand. Her mother stood just outside the front door, watching, until she saw her enter the barn.

  Lena knocked and waited patiently. In a way, it pleased her that her mother was watching. Maybe she would learn from example.

  A muffled voice came from inside the barn. “Howard?”

  “No, it’s me!” Lena replied cheerfully.

  “Lena?” The door opened slowly.

  “David--what happened?!”

  She stared, though she didn’t mean to. The majority of David was obstructed from view by a towel he was holding up to his face. It was crusted in places with dried blood, although a fresh red spot was forming where he held it to his nose. His complexion was pale, and his eyes were tired. In response to her question, he only turned and walked back toward his bed.

  “Are you bleeding?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not! Let me…I’ll run back up and get help!”

  He turned around and grabbed her arm just before she got to the door. “It’s just a nosebleed. Don’t be such a girl.”

  “Let go!” She twisted free. “That’s the worst nosebleed I’ve ever seen.”

  “It happens. It’s dry here.” He turned and watched her. “It’s nice to see you’re concerned about me, though.”

  “Me? I’m not concerned.” She raked her brain for something plausible and insulting. “It’d just be a pity to lose an experienced worker.”

  David actually laughed. Not a humored laugh, though; it was a bitter, ironic laugh.

  “I already told you. I’m here for Master Daray. And you are concerned—you hate blood, it makes you queasy.” David looked over at her; she was shocked. How could he have known? “It’s written all over your face, so don’t even try lying to me.”

  “I’m not concerned. Howard sent me down to tell you we’re going to the store. Otherwise I wouldn’t even be here.” She crossed her arms.

  “Why can’t Ralston go?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me.” Lena explained the ordeal at breakfast. By the time she had finished, David’s nosebleed had stopped, and he held the blood-soaked towel in his hands, listening very seriously.

  “I don’t know.” David said flatly.

  “You do too.”

  “I don’t. I mean, I know why she didn’t want you to go, but the rest I don’t know.” Something in his eyes made her believe him. He was as confused as she had been.

  “Why doesn’t she want me to go?” Lena asked.

  “It’s not safe.”

  “Why?”

  David paused for a minute.

  “Because… I’m not the one to tell you that.” It was no secret to Lena that David enjoyed denying her information. It
was a game to him—frustrating her with his vast knowledge of everything she wanted to know, and on occasion using it to make her sick. But as he said this, there was no fun in his voice. The smirk that usually graced his face was absent.

  “I’m going to change. Stay in the barn.”

  Lena went and sat down on the bed to wait as David rummaged through his trunk for clean clothes and then retreated behind a door, which guessed must have led to his bathroom. Lena waited silently; if she was going to get more information, now was the time to do it. She had David to herself for the day, and he wasn’t going to baby her about the truth like her mother did. David came back out, and Lena followed him up to the car port on the side of the house. Standing next to the sedan, he pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and started to pick through them for the right one.

  “You’re going to drive?”

  “Well, you’re just a kid. Who’d you think was going to drive?” David unlocked the car and awaited Lena’s response. She knew he was hoping she would embarrass herself, so she fell back on the usual—an affront.

  “Oh, I just didn’t think you looked old enough.” She got in the passenger side as David sneered and settled into the driver’s seat.

  They drove for at least a half an hour before pulling into the lot of a large economy store. Preferring not to press her luck, Lena didn’t talk and hoped David would forgive her comment. He still looked sick, and he kept his focus on the twisting roads. They didn’t talk while he drove. As they got out of the car and started towards the entrance, she tried to lighten the mood.

  “I suppose that’s one good thing about Americans. They’re economical.” She pulled the shopping list out of her pocket and started to look over it.

  “Glad you like them. You’re one of them.” David grabbed a cart and then yanked the list out of Lena’s hands.

  “Hey! I’m not an American.” She crossed her arms as they started towards the section of the store that had household cleaners.

  “You are too.”

  “Am not. I was born in Peru.”

  “To American parents, who lived the majority of their lives in America. That makes you an American.”

  Lena’s heart thudded a little faster. This might be her chance.

  “And I suppose you think you know everything about my parents?”

  “A lot. Maybe not everything, but everything your grandfather has told me.”

  They stopped and started to look for the cleaning products Mrs. Ralston had specified.

  “David? Why did my dad tell me my mom was dead? And why can’t Howard know about your apprenticeship?” Somehow in her mind, these two things were connected, though she didn’t know why. She picked up a five pound bottle of soap and dropped it into the cart. David came up very close to her, he looked back up and down the aisle, but they were alone.

  “Don’t talk so loud about that here. In fact, don’t talk about that at all.”

  “What?”

  A woman pushed her half-full cart past the aisle in which they stood. Lena wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw her slow down when she saw them, but then she was gone. Lena looked back at David, who was still staring down at where the woman had been.

  “Let’s just get this done quickly. You’re not supposed to be here.” He whispered.

  “Why?” Lena whispered back. David was now grabbing articles off the shelves as quickly as he could; Lena, seeing her question was about to go unanswered, resorted to drastic measures.

  “David, if you don’t tell me about your apprenticeship--!”

  He half ran back, dumped everything he had picked up into the cart, grabbed Lena by the arm, and pulled her with him as he started to push the cart towards the canned foods.

  “Say it again and we’re going home.”

  “I’m not a child!”

  “Stop acting like one!”

  “Treat me like an adult, and maybe I’ll be less childish!” She shook her arm free. David stopped and looked at her. His eyes glowed with loathing.

  “Answer my questions, and I’ll behave.”

  They stared each other down. David wasn’t going to let her have her way, so she was going to have to make it look like he’d won.

  “Look,” she walked over and looped her arm through his, “David,” she smiled, “No one else is going to tell me this stuff. You offered to teach me, remember?”

  He still looked quite angry. Lena wished she hadn’t positioned herself so close to him.

  “I didn’t mean I’d answer everything,” he sighed and started walking again. “I’ll answer what I feel like answering.”

  Good enough.

  It had better be.

  “Excuse me?” Lena stopped.

  “You heard me.” David didn’t stop walking.

  “Yeah, I know I did. Why did I?”

  “Because I wanted you to.”

  This was a highly unsatisfactory answer, but Lena was sure she’d be learning these things from her mother sooner or later, anyway. It was her father, and her mother’s past, that she needed to press for.

  “Why did my dad lie to me?”

  David was now inspecting the list closely. He seemed displeased with some of Mrs. Ralston’s choices, but obliged. As he grabbed cans of soup and vegetables, he started talking.

  “He didn’t want you to be a part of this,” David replied.

  “And how does lying about my mom fit into that picture?”

  David took a deep breath. He looked at Lena very seriously. “Stop me if you start to feel sick. Okay?”

  “Aww, you do care!” Lena smiled.

  “We don’t need to attract any more attention than we already have, and your vomiting or passing out won’t help us to that goal.”

  Her smile fell slightly. “Okay. Geez.”

  “You know how Howard made me repaint the hall?” David started. “Well, what’s happening to you now can happen in reverse. You thought you were seeing light bleaching, and in your mind, if the hall got repainted, it would go away. And it would have, because that’s what would have made sense to you.”

  “I don’t follow…”

  “Look,” he sounded a little frustrated, “Your mom wanted you to be a part of this world. To be with your own kind, and live up to your full potential. Your dad didn’t. If he’d told you about her, you would have started to remember. You remember I asked you about dreams?”

  She nodded. Her throat had gone dry, and a slight ache was growing in her stomach. But she didn’t want him to stop.

  “That happens when you try to repress things. He told you she was dead. You remembered her. He told you not to think about the dreams, and he may have irreparably damaged you. He managed to get her off your mind, that’s for sure. Along with everything else.”

  Her stomach was truly sore now. She was walking noticeably slow as they started towards the aisle with the paper towels. David gave her a look.

  “I’m okay. I think I’ll go and look at clothes for a while…” She started away, but David grabbed her arm again.

  “You’re not leaving my sight. We’ll get what we need, and then we’ll go look together.”

  “Really, I think I’d rather…” She needed to sit down. Her head was starting to spin, but she wasn’t about to let him think she couldn’t take it. She grabbed onto the cart and leaned against it while he went and got what they needed.

  “You don’t understand.” He said darkly. “There may be people here who want to hurt you.”

  “What?” Her eyes weren’t focusing correctly.

  “Lena!” She heard him hiss. She felt his arm around her waist, and she walked. Just…walked. Wherever he was taking her. A few minutes later she felt him tapping her on the cheek, and realized they were sitting on a porch swing. It was one of the store displays. The smell of fertilizer, coming from a rack of sickly looking plants nearby, got her to focus a little better. Her eyes fixed on David. He was telling someone that she had hyperglycemia, and would be okay in just a moment.
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br />   Minutes later they were alone. Her stomach still hurt, but in general, she felt better. Her throat was dry. David was trying to push an open soda can into her hand.

  “Wa’s this…”

  “Drink it. It’ll help. It’s complementary from the store manager.” He said the last part with a hint of anger.

  She did. It tasted…off.

  “Did you…?”

  “Go slow. The effects are temporary, we need to finish the shopping, and your mother is not going to be happy about this.”

  Whatever he had put in the soda, it started to work almost immediately. Soon they were back to walking the store and doing Mrs. Ralston’s bidding. They saved Lena’s clothes for last, by which time she felt much better. She picked out jeans, long sleeve and short sleeve shirts, a new jacket, socks (most of her old ones had holes), and several other items. She suspected it was whatever she was drugged with, but she didn’t even care that David wouldn’t leave her alone when she picked out new bras and underwear, even though he did do a fair amount of blushing.

  “Well, that’s it then. Home we go!”

  “Not quite.” He grabbed her arm.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You need makeup.”

  Lena raised her eyebrows. “Was that an insult?”

  “No.”

  “You just insulted me!”

  “No.”

  Lena looked at another woman who happened to be shopping. “This guy just said I need makeup!”

  “How dare he!” The woman rolled her eyes and went back to shopping.

  David dragged Lena into the makeup section. He looked around desperately.

  “How does this work?”

  “Makeup? I dunno. Don’t wear it.” Lena shrugged.

  “I can see that. You’re going to start.” He started picking up foundations and trying to match them to her face. He settled on the three he thought were closest, and then grabbed a few items of everything else he saw. He rushed the clerk through the checkout, and then rushed out to the car. Through her remedied haze, Lena noticed David was looking a little uncomfortable.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” David sighed.

  “You look sick. Er. Sicker than before.”

  “I’m fine…” He turned the ignition. “Just tired of having to look after you.”

  She looked blearily closer at him. “No…That’s not it.”

  He sighed. She still had the soda clutched in her hand.

  “Here.” She offered it to him, cringing with the realization. “It was for you anyways, wasn’t it? You brought it for yourself, not me.”

  He glanced over at her, took a few sips, and then passed the can back to her. They rode home in silence. After parking the car, David walked back down to the barn. Lena rang the doorbell, and then disappeared to her room while Howard and Mrs. Ralston unloaded the groceries. She was sure she would be very upset over some of the things David had said that afternoon, but it would have to wait, because at the moment she was feeling too tired and blurry.

  The next day Lena combated what she believed was her first hangover. However, now that she was certain David was willing to give up information, nothing was going to stop her visiting him as often as possible. Her mother watched her closely all morning, until just after lunch, when she felt it necessary to comment.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Lena managed a weak smile, “How are you?”

  “Has David been at it again?” She asked, looking around the library to be sure they were alone.

  “Been at what?”

  “Don’t lie to me, Lena. That kind of thing can really, seriously injure you…”

  “I’m fine, Mom! I probably just caught whatever David has.”

  Ava reached over and held her daughter’s hand. “Sweetie, I seriously hope not.”

  “I was thinking I might go and visit him later.” Lena said innocently.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. You know, I realized I never thanked him for the bracelet.”

  “You’re keeping it, then?” Ava looked away and out the window. She seemed to be lost deep in thought.

  “I guess so. I mean, it was a gift.”

  “A gift, yes…”

  Ava got up and walked away. She paused and turned around. “Lena, I think maybe you and I and David should talk sometime.” Her voice had an odd quality to it, and Lena wondered why her mother was always so strange when talking about David.      

  “Sure. Whatever.” Lena shrugged. Ava walked out of the room.

  Over the next few weeks, Lena continued to hardly have a moment without her mother watching her. She managed to see David on almost a daily basis, but with her mother standing right there, she had to play the question game, which proved itself to go nowhere. And despite her small victories, with David standing there, smirking at her from behind her mother’s back, she felt like she was making no progress at all. There were even subjects that her mother refused to discuss altogether; normally, these were the ones Lena had the most interest in.

  Her reading had slowed almost to a halt. She kept encountering words she didn’t understand, which her mother refused to explain for fear of hurting her. She really needed a moment with David, and so managed to slip him a note at dinner one night. He had winked at her, which she found annoying, but was happy he was open to the idea. Much later that night, she found herself creeping out of her room and into the greenhouse, where David was supposed to meet her.

  The greenhouse was different at night. Moonlight streamed through the many-faceted walls and ceiling, painting everything a pale blue. Some of the plants had started to grow prematurely; while the ground outside was still blanketed with snow, and while the greenhouse itself was quite frigid, a few young leaves and vines could be seen reaching out from under the corpses of last years’ growth. The cold seeped through her jacket and nightclothes. She walked to the wrought-iron spiral staircase, down, and found David sitting next to the pond, very close to the place where she had first met him.

  “Now, I’m serious this time. If you get sick on me, I’ll have to kill you myself.” He looked down into the koi pond and smiled. He’d brought a flashlight that was now illuminating his impish expression. “I’m not even going to go into what your mother wanted to do to me the last time you made yourself sick.”

  She had brought several books down with her. She picked up the first one, a large, ancient looking volume, and started. “Okay. What does the word ‘Silenti’ mean? I’m seeing it everywhere now.”

  “Silenti is the word that commonly refers to the first ones of us. It's Latin.”

  Lena nodded. “Who were the first ones?”

  “No—not specific people. Well, some of them were. Mostly it’s a generic term. It means us. It’s a word that separates the typical human from people like us.”

  “We’re Silenti?” Lena asked, curling her legs beneath her and scooting closer.      

  “No. We’re part Silenti. You especially.” David's lips twitched into an entertained smile.

  “Who are the Durands?”

  “The who?”

  Lena pushed a smallish book towards David. It had an understated brown cover; Lena wasn’t sure if it had a title or not, but if it did, she couldn’t see it. “I think it’s a diary or something, but I’m not sure. It caught my eye because it has the name Daray in it too. Like my mother.”

  David picked up the small manuscript and flipped through the pages. His brow furrowed.

  “Well?”

  “I can’t…I don’t know who they are. You can read this?”

  “Parts of it. Just a sentence here or there. Some of it looks like it’s in Latin, but—“

  Lena’s cell phone went off. David jumped up, throwing the diary back down at her. “Don’t lose that.” And then he sprinted out a side entrance on the first story of the greenhouse that Lena hadn’t noticed before. She reasoned that it must have appeared fairly recently, and then the
lights in the house started to come on. She calmly gathered her books and walked through the first story entrance into the living room, and was quickly accosted by her mother.

  “What are you doing out of bed at this hour?!” Tears were rolling down her cheeks. She grabbed her daughter and pulled her into a tight hug. “Don’t you ever, ever do that to me again! Do you understand?!”

  “Mom!” Lena tried to pry herself free and dropped several books in the process. “I was just reading! That’s all! I wanted to read by the pond. I couldn’t sleep.”

  Ava continued hugging her daughter and crying.

  “Mom, why are you even up?”

  Ava let go, but still rested both hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “I just needed…to see if you were okay. I needed to know that you were safe.”

  Lena guided her mother over to a couch and they sat down together. “Don’t you think you’re being a little irrational?”

  Ava smiled and laughed a little. It looked funny, because she was still crying. “You sound like your father.” She reached over and touched Lena’s cheek. For all the time she’d spent with her mother, this was the first comment of that nature she had made. Lena had wanted her mother to tell her about their relationship before, but Ava had so successfully locked Aaron out of her mind that she had always glossed over the topic or changed the subject. Now that it had come up of its own free will, Lena wasn’t sure she was ready to hear Ava’s opinion of him. She felt like she was going to cry again.

  “Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Ava asked.

  “Why don’t you ever talk about him?” Tears rolled down her face silently. Lena looked away. She always looked away when she cried, because somehow it made her feel less exposed. Ava reached over and held her hand. She squeezed it gently.

  Ava spoke quietly. “There’s a lot of things I wish I could tell you. I just can’t yet.”

  “Did you love him?”

  “That’s a very complicated question, Lena. And a very personal one.” Ava sighed and stood up.

  “What?” The answer was not what she had expected. “Mom, no, it’s not a complicated question. I asked if you loved him, and you’re going to tell me it’s complicated?”

  “I’m sorry, Lena.” Ava sighed again. She walked over to the window and looked across the snowy grounds. “You should really go back to bed.”

  She got up and left her mother standing there, the books still strewn about. She returned to bed and tried to stop crying, but she couldn’t stop her brain from thinking thoughts that made her depressed. It seemed she was the only one who had loved her father. It seemed everyone else knew him better.

  The next morning, Lena found the books she had dropped the night before neatly stacked at the foot of her bed. All of them but one.

  “Mom? I think I’m missing one of the books I had last night. It’s a little brown one.”

  “Sorry. Everything I found is up there.” She looked over at Howard. Today was a rare occasion—Howard seemed to be taking some sort of a work break, and had decided to join Ava and Lena in the living room to watch television. It was reruns; Ava’s choice. Lena wondered if it somehow felt like she was making up for lost time.

  “Are you sure?” Lena shifted her eyes from Ava to Howard, who remained with his eyes fixed on the television. “Howard? Did you find any books down here?”

  “No.” His eyes didn’t move. Since Ava’s arrival, he had avoided talking directly to Lena as much as was humanly possible. She wasn’t sure if he didn’t like her, or if Ava had specifically asked him not to talk to her, but either way, Lena was starting to miss him; even though they’d never been friendly, there really weren’t that many people in the house to talk to.

  “So, neither of you found the book?”

  “Apparently.” Howard replied.

  “Well, I’m going to go look for it, then. It was a very interesting little book.” She stood up and watched their faces very closely, but couldn’t detect any trace of deception. Usually when they tried to hide something from her, they had a tendency to stare at one another; now they were just two people watching television.

  She walked up the stairs. Then, she saw something in the library that hadn’t been there before. It was the largest transformation that she had ever seen the house make. There was a new staircase, but it wasn’t just any staircase—it was the staircase. It led towards the middle of the house—perfectly past the third floor hall. It was the missing entrance to the mysterious sealed room on the third floor.

  But as her eyes followed it up, it ran straight into the ceiling without stopping. There was no third floor landing. Not yet… Lena climbed the staircase up to where she had to duck to keep from hitting her head. She pressed her hands satisfactorily against the ceiling, impressed with her progress. The book, still at the back of her mind, would have to wait.

  She went back to her room and changed into some warm clothes—it was late March, and while the snow that had lately whitewashed the Waldgrave property was melting, the chill remained. She used the greenhouse staircase to avoid her mother knowing she was leaving the house and started to look for David. He was turning fertilizer into the land that he had cleared not too long ago; spring was coming, and Lena allowed herself a wandering thought about what would eventually be planted in the space.

  He smiled when he saw her. “Princess,” he nodded. It had been a long time since he had referred to her that way.

  “Hello, David.” She smiled. He could tell she was pleased with herself.

  “Can I help you with something?” He stuck the shovel into the muddy ground and leaned on it.

  “Have you ever been up to the third floor?” She pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders.

  “Sure.”

  “What’s in the middle room? The one the hall wraps around?”

  He shrugged. “It’s an office, I guess. Your grandfather used to keep important documents in there. Why?”

  “I found the other staircase. The one that goes up to that room, but I still can’t get in. I want to meet him.”

  David raised his eyebrows. It was an unusual request.

  Suddenly, Lena heard her name being shouted. She turned around to see her mother running toward her.

  “You’ll be meeting him soon enough.” David straightened up as Ava drew closer.

  “Lena! You can’t just go sneaking off like that…” Ava didn’t have a coat on, and crossed her arms to keep warm.

  Lena crossed her own arms in exasperation. “Why not?! You’re so clingy, and you won’t tell me why!”

  “I’m your mother and I don’t have to! And you!” She turned on David. “You shouldn’t be encouraging her!”

  “Nothing’s going to happen. Trust me.” He stared very seriously back into Ava’s accusing eyes. She shivered. David took a few steps towards her, a strange glint in his eyes, “Leave her alone. I’ll take care of it.”

  Lena turned and started marching back up to the house. She wanted to trust both her mother and David, but it was moments like that that prevented her. As honest as David was, he was going over her head, and she hated it. When she got back up to her room, she saw out the window that David and her mother were still talking.

  Lena had hoped that hearing what was in the room would have opened it to her, but it didn’t. That day she had wandered back to her room to read, slightly light headed, and continued to attempt reading. She was greatly pleased, however, that she was only light headed—she appeared to be gaining a tolerance for David’s teaching. Her efforts to rediscover the lost brown diary went unrewarded.

  She found herself going back up to the third floor constantly over the next several days, attempting to ascertain if anything had changed. She paced back and forth in the rooms, which were admittedly starting to fill up, but not with anything useful to her. There were dressers with old clothes, boxes of old lamps and empty picture frames, and covered furniture. She sorted through it all, because she knew there had to be some truth, or at least something tha
t would spark her to find the way to the upper floors.

  Finally, one day, she thought she had struck gold when she found a box of old picture albums. They were mostly empty at the time, but Lena reasoned they might work like the library books, and so secreted them off to her room, where she inspected all of the pictures very closely. Some were of people she didn’t recognize. Some she did.

  There were pictures of her mother as a girl. She knew they were her mother, because she had seen that face in starkly clean hotel mirrors every day when she was young. The pictures were old and slightly yellowed, but still in very good condition. She apparently liked wearing dresses then, too. The Waldgrave house hadn’t changed much, unless the pictures lied—her mother, next to the koi pond, in front of the house, entertaining at a party, smiling in the garden… A span of several years of her life, and even a few photographs that seemed to foretell Lena’s future; pictures of her mother when she was late in her teens. The last photograph of her mother was when she looked to be very early in her twenties, at some sort of party. She was standing in the living room as a man, who appeared to be her date, attempted to hold her hand. While he appeared to be having a good time, Lena quickly recognized her mother’s forced smile. Not the one she had when she laughed, which was rare, but the one she had every time she talked to David.

  The back of the photograph only bore three words: Avalon’s engagement party.       

  Lena flipped the photo back over, and carefully analyzed the man. She could only imagine that Ava must have broken the engagement at some point, because the man in the photo wasn’t her father. Curiosity urged her to ask Ava, but her better judgment told her the issue was too personal.

  It wasn’t until she went back through the photos a second time that she noticed something odd. A cat, with short hair and overly large ears, appeared in most of them. It was a reddish brown color, with blue eyes. A family pet, maybe? While young Ava made a crown of daisies, the cat stood still as a stone carving, tense, staring into the camera. Where she stood in front of the house, the cat could be seen leaping down from the window behind her. And there—peeking from behind the door, going up the stairs, glowing eyes in the shadows of the distant trees. But the thing that bothered her wasn’t the cat itself, but rather the fact that it didn’t seem to have aged in any of the pictures. However, Lena had never owned a cat, and wasn’t really sure how long they were supposed to live.

  There was one other item, tucked into the back of an album, that caught her interest briefly. It appeared to be a copy of her birth certificate; she remembered when her mother had retorted to her that her father had never let her see the original. She must have been right, because the certificate (which she decided to keep in a bathroom drawer for fear of having it confiscated) was almost entirely blank. It had her birth date on it, and her parent’s names—that was all. Lena wondered how much her father had kept from her.

  “Mom, is Abilene my real name?”

  “Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?” They had run into each other in the library. Ava hadn’t been nearly as clingy since the incident with David. Lena wasn’t sure what Ava had been doing with her newly found free time, but she was definitely glad to have the extra freedom.

  “I don’t know. It’s just…” Lena almost brought up the blank certificate to prove her point, but stopped herself just in time. If her mother didn’t want her to know, there was a good chance the certificate would be taken away if she found out. Lena smiled, “I’m starting to…you know…question a lot about dad.”

  “Oh?”

  It was almost painful, but Lena tried her best. “Yeah…well, he wasn’t exactly truthful, was he?”

  “Well,” Ava sat down on one of the couches, “Well no, he wasn’t. Aaron was like that.”

  Lena glanced over at the staircase and sighed. Ava noticed.

  “You can see it then? You’ve never noticed it before…”

  “See what? The staircase? Yeah.” Lena didn’t like the look on her mother’s face. It screamed of Ava becoming her shadow again.

  “You haven’t been up it?” Ava’s eyes were wide.

  “No…”

  “Howard works up there. And your…grandfather…too.”

  “So?”

  “You’re not allowed.”

  Lena had begun to learn her mother’s game. When she cooperated, her mother didn’t worry.

  “Okay.” Lena shrugged. “I’ll leave it alone.”

  Ava stood to go.

  “Mom?” Lena asked quickly. “When can I meet Grandpa?”

  Ava turned around, shocked at Lena’s choice of words. “Your grandfather. He’s a busy man. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s quite a while until you meet him. I don’t think he wants to bother with you.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Lena faked a smile. Ava smiled back, and walked away.

  She stared up at the ceiling patch where the staircase ended. She knew he wanted to meet her; he had left her gifts of clothing. She had seen him watching her out the windows. She hoped it wouldn’t be long. If both Ava and Howard didn’t want her to meet him, he had to be the one with the answers.

  That night, while she slept, she dreamed. Lena had dreamed often, lately; but it had been a long, long time since she’d had one of these dreams.

  Girl…girl!

  “Dad!” She sat bolt upright in bed. “Dad, it’s late…it’s… Dad?”

  Across the room, a pair of glowing eyes were slithering toward her. She shut her eyes again. “It’s a dream, it’s a dream, it’s a dream... It’s a dream.”

  She opened them again. No eyes. The room was dark except for the moonlight casting through the windows and onto the floor. Something reached out and touched her shoulder. In horror, Lena looked over.

  There they were. Right up next to her face. A tongue shot out and licked sharply pointed teeth, and Lena sat terrified. It had one paw rested on her shoulder. The cat was seated on her nightstand. It got up and started for her door, which Lena didn’t remember leaving open. It was then that her senses returned to her.

  The cat from the photograph! She shot out of bed and ran to the door.

  “Cat!” She whispered as loud as she dared to. “Cat!”

  It had already disappeared into the darkness of the other end of the hall. There was only one window in the second floor hall, and it was in the wrong spot to let in light from the moon; Lena closed her eyes tightly so that they would adjust to the darkness. She stepped out into the hall and tried to figure out where the cat had gone. She followed the hall slowly, checking every door as she went, but they were all closed tightly. As she approached the study door, the last one in the hall, she expected to find the cornered animal. But that door was closed as well…

  Did it get past me somehow?

  Not far behind her, she heard a door creak open. Her skin went cold, and every hair on her neck stood on end. Cats, after all, can’t open doors. Very slowly, she turned around.

  The library door stood a few inches open. Beyond there was only darkness. Only six inches lower than the doorknob, fully the height of a toddler, a feline face watched her. That was one thing the photographs hadn’t told her; this cat was an unusually large breed of some sort.

  “Did you do that?” Lena asked in her friendliest, scared witless voice.

  The cat turned and ran into the library. Lena followed it as far as the door, still questioning whether she believed cats could open doors, and looked inside. The library was shadowy in the dark; while the large windows did a good enough job in the day, the shadows cast by all the bookcases and furniture made corners and floors unsettlingly invisible. For a moment, she thought she had lost the cat, but no—it was there. Sitting and watching her from the edge of the stairs. It licked its teeth again, and then meowed in a very irritated manner.

  “Here, kitty kitty…” She walked slowly toward it as it continued to glare disdainfully at her. “Kitty, kitty, kitty…”

  At the foot of the stairs, she reached out to pet it. The ca
t leapt up a few stairs. Still on its feet, it watched Lena intently. Its ears flexed forward and back, and Lena suddenly had a bad feeling that the cat was listening to something she couldn’t hear. The cat turned and darted up the stairs, Lena’s eyes following. Just as it ran into the ceiling, or rather would have, a deep, stabbing, blinding pain brought Lena to her knees. She clutched her head, and laid down on the stairs. She might have screamed if she hadn’t been gasping for air. When she looked back up, there was the cat, sitting on the third floor landing. Its thin tail flicked lazily back and forth. The staircase now led up to a door.

  She pulled herself up onto her elbows, still lying on her stomach. She tried to think, but her head ached horribly. She had told her mother and her uncle that she wouldn’t. They didn’t want her to know what was up there, which meant it had to be good. The answers were up there, previously out of her reach; but now here she was, with nothing to stop her. She might have been able to do it the following day, but she was sure the cat would have made her sick enough to not be up to it, and her mother would probably start following her again.

  There was a noise like a dripping faucet that disrupted her thoughts. Lena looked down into a small pool of blood, and wiped her hand across her nose. A nosebleed, just like the one David had had.

  Lena grabbed a wad of tissues from a nearby table, and started to go up the stairs, steadying herself against the banister. The cat paced back and forth in front of the door at the top of the landing, meowing and scratching at the closed door. When Lena finally reached the top, she wrapped her hand around the handle dizzily. It was locked. She sat down on the top stair to rest.

  “Figures. Thanks for nothing, cat.” She said miserably.

  A light came on from behind the door and spread across the landing, sending another jolt of surprised adrenaline into Lena’s system. She looked over her shoulder as the door creaked open, and then fainted, falling raucously down the stairs and landing with a thud as the cat ran to its master.

  *****