The Shadows of Dark Root (Daughters of Dark Root Book 5)

by April Aasheim

  How had she let herself get into such a mess? She moved away from the doorway and flung herself onto the sofa, the first piece of furniture that she and Frank had ever bought together. She remembered that day clearly. They had wandered, arm in arm, through the department store. When they’d come upon the sofa, she had gasped at how vibrant the upholstery was. She had always wanted a turquoise couch.

  “Your wish is my command,” Frank had said, kissing her hand. “Whatever you want, I’ll always make sure you have it. Always.”

  Merry squeezed her eyes against the memory. In some ways, it anchored her, reassuring her that she was doing the right thing. In other ways, it made her feel ill. She and Frank had so much history together. So why was she feeling like this now?

  She and Frank had kept their love affair private, as her mother would not have approved of a man his age and profession –a shrink! –dating her daughter. They had met online and then he had come to Dark Root and wooed her in person. He had told her she was beautiful. And strong. And smart. No one had ever said things like that to her before. Eve was the prettiest, Ruth Anne the smartest, and Maggie the strongest.

  But Merry felt in no way remarkable. Not until Frank.

  He showered her with gifts, dresses from expensive stores she had only seen in magazines. He took her to nice restaurants, and told her stories about the world she’d only glimpsed in books and on TV. He promised to show her all that she had missed out on. And eventually he convinced her that leaving her family was the compassionate thing. “If you do everything for your sisters, they’ll never learn to do for themselves.”

  The frantic knocking on the door resumed, and it sounded as if the whole house was caving in.

  Merry stood and wiped away her tears with a tissue. “If Frank comes home and sees me like this…” she sniffed to herself. After drying her eyes, she carefully tucked the tissue into a plastic baggie she kept in her purse. Frank had a habit of searching the trash.

  The phone vibrated again. This time, she picked it up. “Hello?”

  “Don’t hello me, Merry. I’m not just anybody. C’mon. Please, let’s talk. I’m shipping out soon.”

  Shipping out? What did that mean? She texted him the question.

  We R leaving Kansas soon. I need 2 C U before I go.

  Leaving? Do U have 2 go?

  I don’t know. Do I?

  Her chest constricted as she sifted through the possibilities. If he left she wouldn’t have to deal with him or the situation. But she’d also never see him again, either.

  Another text came through: Going 2 R hill. I’ll be there 4 the next few hours, with a picnic basket packed just 4 U. Hoping you’ll join.

  The phone went silent. She crept to the door and looked through the peephole. She watched as the man she loved turned and walked away from her, a picnic basket dangling limply from his hand. He was so beautiful. Her heart broke.

  Frank would be home soon.

  “Think, Merry.” It had happened so quickly, escalating so suddenly. She hadn’t meant for any of this to be.

  Maybe she could admit to Frank she wasn’t in love with him? She could tell him that, even though he had been affectionate and called her beautiful, even though he had shown her the world outside of Dark Root, that it wasn’t truly love. Love was… wanting the best for someone, even if it meant losing something yourself. Love was interactive conversations, not lectures on what you were doing wrong.

  Love was calling just to say hi.

  Or good night.

  Love was remembering the little things that mattered to the other. And not forgetting special days. And packing a picnic lunch, ‘just for you.’

  Frank had become her father. No, he had become her warden. He kept her here, away from everyone, picking through her trash and monitoring her calls. She hadn’t wanted to admit how trapped she felt, but she saw it clearly now.

  She ran to her bedroom and opened her suitcase on the bed, throwing half her clothes inside. Then she shuffled the other half around in her closet, so it wasn’t immediately noticeable. She zipped up the suitcase and dragged it down the stairs, floundering towards the front door. She reached for the doorknob with one hand and her purse with the other.

  The door was flung open and Merry stumbled backwards, dropping everything. Frank stared at her, standing large in the doorway. His eyes moved from her tear-stained face to her suitcase. He seemed bigger now, taller than she remembered. Why was he home so early?

  Merry winced. Though he had never actually slapped her, his hand had gone up more than once. “You going somewhere?” he asked.

  “I was… going to take some things to the church rummage sale. Thought I’d donate this old suitcase, too.”

  “Oh?” He closed the door behind him and walked to the bar, pouring himself a scotch. He downed it in one swig.

  Merry glanced through the curtains and forced a weak smile. “You’ll be all right without me for a few hours?”

  He poured another drink, his face reddening as the buttery liquid slid into the shot glass. He swished his drink around as he spoke. “There are rumors, Merry. Rumors about some shmuck’s wife whose been sneaking off with one of those religious fanatics behind her husband’s back.”

  “Huh?” Merry feigned confusion. “What fanatics?”

  “Those lunatics who set up that church a few towns over. Some doomsday cult. Brainwashed freaks, if you ask me.”

  “Oh.” Merry scrambled for an answer. “That’s too bad. Anyway, I better take this over. Jenn is waiting for me.”

  “She is? That’s strange. I just ran into Jenn and she didn’t mention it.”

  “Uh… that is strange.”

  “She did mention the rumor I just told you about, however.”

  The blood drained from Merry’s face. Jenn was her best friend, the one person she had confided in. Did she really tell him?

  “Is it true, Merry?” Frank squeezed the shot glass in his fist, stepping forward. His face was crimson, but his expression controlled.

  “I uh…” What could she say? That Jenn lied? No, Merry realized she’d committed enough sins already. “Yes, it was me. I’ve been seeing one of them,” she said, meeting his eyes.

  She glanced at the door, wondering if she could get by him. If she left the suitcase, she might be able to outrun him.

  Frank looked down on her, dwarfing her. “Why did you do it?”

  Love?

  What else could she say? She opened her mouth, to try to explain that she’d come to love a boy who didn’t have anything to offer her other than his heart. And that she was willing to leave everything behind, for nothing more than that.

  Frank might slap her, but the sting would disappear. A small price to pay for freedom.

  “We talked about religion,” she said. It was almost honest. They had talked about religion, but so much more. They talked about everything as they nursed their picnic baskets on the hill, Merry lying on his lap, or him on hers. “We talked about the true nature of love.”

  Frank sneered and turned, and Merry assumed he was pouring another drink. Instead, he went to the door, locking it. The house became darker as the latch clicked. Then, he walked towards her, kicking her suitcase to the side.

  “God, huh?” he grabbed her face and kissed her, his sharp gray stubble scratching her chin. “There is no God, Merry. I’ve told you that before. Your silly mother put too many things into your head. But I’m going to get rid of them.”

  He kissed her so hard he drew blood. “I won’t let you leave me for some religious whack job. Do you hear me?”

  “Frank…”

  Merry’s face was in her hands. She couldn’t look at us. I knew the voice knocking on the door. Merry had been in love with Jason. My Jason. My dearest friend from Woodhaven.

  I was stung by jealousy. Although we were never physical, Jason and I certainly cared deeply for one another. We stayed up alone together on many nights, talking about life and love and the world outside of Woodhaven. And
there had been moments, during a pause in our conversation, when we looked into each other’s eyes. There had almost been a kiss once, when our faces accidentally moved close together - it hung between us, like an unfulfilled wish. And Jason had been the one to help me leave Michael. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized that I had been keeping Jason tucked away, as a perfect memory of untainted love.

  I knew Merry had come searching for me in Kansas, asking for me at our temporary compound. She’d obviously found him instead.

  It was unfair for me to be jealous. Jason had never been mine. But it was true, nonetheless.

  Even through my unfounded jealousy, my heart ached for Merry. I never knew Frank was so awful. No wonder she sought refuge in the arms of a young preacher. I had taken the same path myself, when Michael showed up in Dark Root. But why hadn’t she told us? We surely couldn’t cast stones.

  I stared at her, almost speechless. “Is June Bug Frank’s daughter?”

  “No.” She wiped her nose with a tissue from her pack. Only Merry would bring Kleenex to hell. “I met Jason when Frank and I came looking for you. And then one afternoon I ran into him in town while I was shopping by myself. He was passing out fliers. He spoke and I was fascinated by his view of the world, so different from the one we had grown up with. I asked him a ton of questions and he answered them all with such passion and conviction. We saw each other almost every day for several weeks. And I fell in love. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  “What the hell?” Eve said. “You stayed with that prick even after he raised his hand to you.”

  Merry covered her face. “I’m so embarrassed. I should have told you all.” She turned to Michael. “Especially you.”

  Especially Michael?

  He looked at her with compassion, but there was also a new vacancy in his eyes. She wasn’t as pure as he’d supposed, and in the time it took for us to view her memory, a chasm had formed between them. Michael took a step back, distancing himself. I had known him long enough to know how judgmental he was, and wasn’t surprised by his reaction.

  But I was surprised by Paul’s.

  “You let Frank think June Bug was his kid?” he demanded. “And she’s with him right now?”

  “Yes. Yes.” Merry sobbed. “I was a married woman living in a small judgmental town where everyone knew everyone else’s business. By the time I got the courage to leave, June Bug and Frank had already bonded.”

  “It’s not just small towns that frown on things like that,” Paul said. “I grew up in a city, and we weren’t too keen on it either. Were you ever planning on telling her real father? Does he even know he has a child?”

  Merry shook her head, looking to us for support. “I was in love, that’s all I can say. It was the only time in my life I’ve done anything like that, but it’s not who I am.” Again, her eyes drifted towards Michael.

  “Are you certain she’s…” I couldn’t choke out Jason’s name. “… not Frank’s?”

  She shook her head, vehemently. “I wasn’t with Frank at all during that time. It would have been so much easier if June Bug was his.”

  “You think?” Eve said. She tapped her fingers on her thighs, and her foot on the ground. “You could have come home, you know? You didn’t have to stay with Dr. Jekyll if he was mistreating you. What if he tries to hurt June Bug? Have you thought about that?”

  “Eve!” I said.

  “It’s a fair question,” Ruth Anne said, now turning to face Merry. “She’s our niece and we have a right to know.”

  “Frank wouldn’t!” Merry said. “Once June Bug was born, he softened so much! She’s the light of his life. I thought about telling him a million times, but the way he looks at her, and the way he started looking at me again after I’d given him a daughter…”

  “But you loved Jason,” I said, feeling more sympathy than I wanted. “Do you still love him.”

  “I don’t know. It’s been so long. But Jason taught me what real love looked like, and now I’ll never settle for anything less.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “Eve, I couldn’t return to Dark Root. I couldn’t face any of you. And I surely couldn’t face Mama.”

  I understood. Pride had kept me from going home many times. But I was still angry, mostly because I now knew how strong my sister was, and she hadn’t stood up for herself then.

  “Security,” she whispered, reading me. “I sold my soul for security, and I’m ashamed.” She straightened her sweater and smoothed her hair. “When Frank ran off with that barista, I had to swallow my pride and come home anyway.”

  “You were more worried about your pride than your kid,” Eve said.

  “Can it, Eve,” Ruth Anne snapped, patting Merry’s back. “We’ve all got our secrets. And none of us are innocent. Let’s just hope the Netherworld is done chewing us up and spitting us out.”

  Our faces turned to Michael, who alone was left. He didn’t look at all worried.

  With that, silence fell upon our group. Ruth Anne was right.

  I brushed Merry’s arm. “It’ll be all right.”

  “No it won’t, Maggie. Nothing will ever be all right again. The djinn’s bottle has been uncorked and there’s no going back.”

  I looked at her curiously, wondering if I truly knew my sister, or anyone for that matter.

  Contemplating this, I examined our new environment. It was a rocky and desolate location, red like Mars. Merry sat down by herself on a rock and covered her face with her hands. At that, the world around us began to crack and splinter. There was a moment of noisy static and a new backdrop emerged.

  I blinked.

  Merry was now sitting on the arm of a sofa, in the same position as before. We were no longer outdoors, and instead found ourselves in a tired living room, with scratched wooden floors and antique wallpaper. There was a window to a sunny world outside – but no door.

  The rest of the scene gradually filled in.

  .

  Cobwebs hung in the corners and a thick layer of dust covered the floor. There were piles of unsorted mail on various tables around the room, while heaps of laundry lay unfolded on the couch. Dead flowers wilted in cracked vases. Dirty dishes sat on a shelf, gathering flies. The stink of garbage was strong and it made me woozy.

  “Welcome to Merry’s personal hell,” I said, knowing her disdain for untidiness and disorder.

  My sister’s face turned towards window, her expression wavering between defiance and guilt. With the toe of her shoe, she drew a large J in the dust on the floor. I wondered if it was for June Bug or Jason.

  Michael massaged his scalp, his countenance softened by her fragile mental state. “I don’t think she can see us,” he whispered. “Poor thing.” At his words Merry startled and looked around, as if hearing a ghost.

  We didn’t move or speak for a moment. Merry eventually slid off the sofa and walked confidently towards an open closet. I almost expected a full skeleton to fall out, rattling and clanking as its bones hit the ground. But instead, she pulled a pink baby blanket from a high shelf, touching it to her cheek.

  “We can’t leave her alone in her head like this. Isn’t there anything we can do?” I asked. I could deal with my own grief easier than Merry’s.

  “Let her wallow,” Eve said.

  “Merry’s always been so good to you, Eve. How can you say that?”

  She shrugged. “Merry and I don’t know who our fathers are. I can’t believe she’d do that to June Bug, too.”

  “We’re here in the Netherworld because of my own horrible father. And don’t forget, only Ruth Anne is Sasha’s biological daughter. DNA doesn’t mean everything.”

  “I’ve heard you talk of Jason,” Eve said to me. “From what I gather, he was a decent guy. Much better than Franken-Shrink.”

  “…trapped,” Merry mumbled, now pressing her hands to the window. She banged her fists against the impenetrable glass. “Trapped! Trapped! Trapped!”

  Michael went to her. She shivered, as though he were nothing mor
e than a chill in the air.

  “I need out! I can’t do this.” Merry shouted. Her eyes drifted towards a clock looming over a brick mantle. The hands spun quickly. “I forgot to make dinner! Frank will be home soon.”

  “What do we do?” I asked the others, low enough that Merry wouldn’t hear. Every new sound made her jump.

  “She’s in her own nightmare right now,” Shane whispered. “It’s dangerous to wake her. We need to let it play out.”

  “The cowboy’s right,” Michael agreed. “She created this scenario for a reason. She needs to absolve her guilt.”

  “She never told you about this?” I asked, my eyes trailing Merry as she wandered distraught around room.

  “She hinted that she may have emotionally strayed on Frank,” Michael said, “but I did sense there was more.”

  “You sensed?” I asked, knowing he had some telepathic abilities.

  “I didn’t pry, if that’s what you’re asking. I would never do that to her.” Michael looked at Merry in a way he had never looked at me, even in our early years. It was the look of someone who loves a person so much that he’d rather burden his own life than add an ounce of sorrow to hers.

  Were we in a version of Merry’s old house, I wondered? Or simply a pure construct of her imagination? I inspected the room more carefully. It was cool and dim, with flickering candles as well as lamps. Boxes of unsorted papers were stacked willy-nilly in the corners, and colorless houseplants sagged, as if on respirators. And the room seemed to be growing ever larger, the disorder growing along with it. The window didn’t budge, and without a door there seemed little chance of escape.

  A sheet of paper floated down before me, and I plucked it from the air. It was a letter.

  My beloved Merry,

  Soon, we’ll be together. I’ll come for you shortly after Christmas.

  My love,

  Frank.

  “She was just a kid when Frank took her,” I said, wadding up the paper and throwing it across the expanding room. “She didn’t know what love was.”