by Amy Cross
She stares at them. “What are they?” she asks after a moment.
“What are they?” I wait a moment, convinced she's joking, but as she takes the packet it's clear that she genuinely doesn't have a clue. “They're sanitary towels,” I continue, “for... You seriously don't know?”
She pauses, and then her smile returns. “Of course I do,” she says finally, still holding the packet as if it's some kind of alien object. “I'm sure she'll be very grateful. Honestly, you're too kind.”
“It's just that she seemed very confused when I spoke to her earlier. I think maybe she needs someone to sit down with her and explain a few things.”
“Such as?”
“Such as... Well, you know, she's getting to that age where maybe a few confusing things are happening to her as she becomes an adult.” I wait for a reply, but there's an unmistakably blank expression in this woman's eyes, as if she's just waiting for me to leave. “Didn't your mother sit you down once and talk to you about that kind of thing?” I ask. “It's kind of a big moment in every girl's life.”
“Well...” She pauses again. “Yes, of course. Absolutely. I can do that for her.”
“Actually,” I continue, still not convinced, “I'm a doctor, so I've had to deal with this kind of thing lots of times with patients. I'd be happy to hang around and talk to Tatty some more so that she -”
“That won't be necessary.”
“It's no trouble, I just -”
“I'll tell her you stopped by,” she adds, interrupting me. “I'm sure she'll be thrilled, and I'm sure she'll be glad of these towel things too. She's very -”
Before she can finish, there's a loud bump from upstairs. She turns and look back into the house for a moment, before turning back to me. This time, I can see the faintest hint of concern in her eyes.
“My husband's doing some work,” she explains. “You know what men are like, right? Always getting out their drills and putting up shelves or cabinets. As a woman, I don't really understand it all, but he seems happy enough.” Her voice trails off for a moment, and it's clear that she feels uncomfortable. “Now if you'll excuse me,” she adds, “I have to get back to my apple cake. It's just about to go into the oven, and I need to give it plenty of attention first.” She starts to swing the door shut. “Thank you again for coming by. I'm sure Natalie will be very touched.”
“No problem, but -”
The door clicks shut, leaving me standing alone on the porch.
“No problem,” I mutter, before hearing another bump from inside. Figuring that it's not really any of my business if these people are a little weird, I slip my hands into my coat pockets and head down the steps, before making my way toward the sidewalk. I'd have liked to have seen Tatty one more time, just to make sure that she's okay, but I guess she's too busy with another of her projects. She probably just thinks of me as some weird woman who showed up in town for a few hours. Hell, she's most likely forgotten about me already.
In an ideal world, I'd stick around and give her some advice, but I'm sure she'll be fine. I mean, all teenagers have problems. I'm probably just overreacting.
***
“Don't think you're going to get away with this,” I tell Eli as I unlock my car. “One way or another, Mom's gonna insist on dragging you to her house soon, either for Thanksgiving or Christmas or some other family occasion. When I tell her you're doing so well, she'll demand your presence.”
“Then I shall have to be extra thick-skinned,” Eli replies, holding the door open for me as I climb inside. “Your mother can be rather determined sometimes, Holly, but she can't force me to do anything.”
“You know she'll come here, don't you?” I ask. “If you leave it too long, one day you'll hear a knock at the door and she'll be right outside.”
“You must tell her not to concern herself.”
I can't help smiling. “As if I could ever stop her.”
“I hope you'll try,” he replies. “Holly...” For a moment, he seems a little awkward, as if there's something he wants to say but he's not sure how to get it out. “I don't mean for this to come across badly,” he continues finally, “and I genuinely appreciate the fact that you came to visit me today, but I hope you and the rest of the family don't feel you have to keep checking up on me. I'm a grown man, you know. Hell, I'm seventy years old, and as you can see I'm more than capable of looking after myself. To be honest, it feels a little awkward knowing that you have this need to come and make sure I'm okay. It's almost like I'm seen as some... incapable child.”
“We just care about you,” I tell him.
“You care,” he replies, “since you're the only one who's actually shown up for several years, but... I'm fine. Truly. You don't need to take time out of your busy life again.”
“What busy life?” I ask with a smile. “Honestly, Eli, it was good to see you again, and I can't speak for the others but I promise I'll drop by some time.”
“At least phone ahead, then. Give me some warning. I wouldn't like you to turn up unannounced again.”
“I'll try, but the phones around this place don't seem to work so well.”
He smiles awkwardly, before taking a step back and swinging the door shut. “Have a safe drive,” he says, “and give everyone my best. And please tell them not to worry. Tell them old Eli's finally found a way to get by in this strange little town. Tell them I'm fine.”
A few minutes later, as I'm driving away from Tulepa, I can't help glancing in the rear-view mirror and watching as the town recedes into the distance. The truth is, I know no-one else is going to come and check on Eli any time soon, but I feel as if I have to at least drop by again one day. Even though I know it's technically none of my business, and I'm sure nothing too crazy is going on, I also want to know whether people have really been dropping dead at noon each day, or whether that was just another of Tatty's crazy stories. I guess, for a moment, I allowed myself to be taken in by her wild ideas.
At least Eli's okay. I allowed myself to really start worrying about him for a while, but now it's clear that he's fine. In fact, he's better than fine. He's like a completely new man.
Chapter Fourteen
Tatty
“Your friend was here earlier,” Mom whispers, leaning closer to me as I struggle to break free from the restraints around my wrists and ankles. “She wanted to say goodbye to you personally. Isn't that cute? She'd only known you for a few hours, and already she felt she had to help you.”
I try to scream back at her, but the gag over my mouth is too tight and all I can manage is a faint murmur, the same murmur I was desperately making when I heard Holly downstairs at the front door. I was convinced she'd hear me and come to help, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't quite manage. Tears are rolling down my face, but no matter how hard I try to get free, these restraints are far too tight.
“She's gone now,” Mom continues. “She was seen driving out of town, and hopefully she listened to the warning about not coming back. Fortunately, now that she's out of earshot, there's no need to keep you quiet.”
She pauses, before reaching around to the side of my face and starting to pull the gag away. As soon as it's slightly loose, I turn my head to one side and scream, desperately hoping that someone will hear and come running.
“Doesn't that make your throat hurt?” Mom asks as he pulls the rest of the gag loose and tosses it aside. She doesn't seem bothered by my cries at all; if anything, she seems genuinely amused. “You're going to make yourself bleed if you keep up with that. Your wrists are already chafing.”
“Help!” I scream, with tears rolling down my face. “Somebody help me!”
“Who do you think is going to come running?” Mom asks. “There's no-one, Natalie. No-one who'll care, anyway, not now Holly has left. It's just you and me.” She smiles. “It's sad, really. She seemed to genuinely want to help you, but I suppose at the end of the day she just couldn't sit around waiting for you to show up again. As worried as he might have be
en, she'll quickly forget about you. That's how the world works, you know. People pretend to care, but most of the time they're just trying to calm their conscience.”
Turning to her, I spot movement over on the far side of the room, and when I look over I see Dad standing in the doorway.
“Why are you doing this?” I shout, breaking down into a series of sobs. Tears are still running down my face, mixed with mucus from my nose. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to be like the rest of us,” Dad replies, before turning and looking back toward the stairs. A moment later, I realize I can hear someone coming up. “I want you to start fitting in. I want you to find your place in this town.”
“You should have gone with Jordan tonight,” Mom tells me, tucking some stray strands of hair behind my ear. “It would have been so much more natural that way, and far less traumatizing for you. Instead, you forced me to do it this way. Why couldn't you just -”
Before she can finish, I lean closer and bite her wrist as hard as I can manage. She lets out a cry of pain and pulls away, before slapping the side of my face hard. As she gets to her feet, I see that there's blood running down her arm.
“That hurt!” Dad hisses, as Mom goes to inspect the damage in the light by the window. “You're really being difficult, Natalie. Jesus Christ, what's got into you?”
“It doesn't matter,” Mom replies, looking out the window for a moment. Something seems to have caught her attention, and slowly a smile creeps across her face. “This is always my favorite part,” she says finally, turning to me. “Scream all you like, Tatty. Half the town's outside the house now, but no-one's coming to help you. The only person who'd ever have come was Holly, and now she's driving away, not even looking back.”
I open my mouth to cry out, but suddenly I see another figure stepping into the room. A cold shudder passes through my chest as soon as I see his smiling face.
“Hello,” Eli says calmly, still wearing the same yellow shirt from earlier. “Welcome, Natalie, to the first day of the rest of your life.”
PART TWO
Chapter Fifteen
Holly
Three years later
“Why are you being such a bitch about this?”
Stopping at the door, I freeze for a moment. Did he really just use that word? When I turn and look back across the hallway, I see that Dean is standing by the kitchen door, watching me with that same white-hot stare he uses whenever he's trying to persuade me that I'm being irrational. It won't work this time, though. After everything he's put me through over the past twenty-four hours, it's over between us.
“Come on, Holly,” he continues, “let's just -”
“Did you just use the b-word?” I ask. “Please, tell me you didn't do that.”
“I'm sorry,” he adds, putting his hands up in mock surrender, “maybe that was too harsh, it's just... Can we please just sit down and talk about this?”
“What's there to talk about?” I ask, holding back tears. “Apparently I'm a bitch.” Grabbing my bag and coat, I turn and unlock the door before stepping out into the corridor.
“Where are you going?”
“I'll be back in a few days,” I mutter.
“We're supposed to be going to your parents' for the weekend.”
“Yeah,” I reply, rolling my eyes, “like that's going to happen now.” I glance back at him. “My mother can always tell when we've been arguing, Dean. I really don't want to spend the whole weekend deflecting her questions. Dinner tonight would be hell.”
“So let's just -”
“I'll be back on Sunday evening,” I say firmly. “Enjoy your weekend alone. I'm sure you'll prefer not having to spend time with me since I'm such a bitch.” With that, I pull the door shut, slamming it harder than I'd intended. I take a step back, feeling as if I want to go back in there and tell him what I really think, but finally I turn and hurry toward the elevator. The last thing I want is for him to see me crying again.
***
“No,” I reply, trying and failing to hold back a sigh, “Dean and I haven't been arguing. We just can't make it up to your place after all.”
As I sit in the parking garage under our apartment block, I wait for Mom to answer, but there's just silence on the other end of the line. I hate it when she goes silent; I know exactly what she's thinking, I can almost hear her thoughts in my head, and I know there's no way I can fool her. At the same time, admitting the truth isn't an option, not when it'd inevitably open the floodgates of questions. I'd only end up crying.
“Okay,” she says finally, with that tight tone in her voice that means she doesn't believe a word I've told her. “Well, I hope you can come up some other weekend. I know you don't get much time off work, but I'd still like to think you can be bothered to come and see your father and I sometimes. We are family, you know. Plus, your sister and Scott were going to pop by tomorrow, it would have been something of a family reunion.”
“Mom -”
“I have to go,” she adds curtly. “Your father has already headed to the store, so I'll have to call him and let him know not to get those cookies you like. You know the ones, I only get them because you like them.”
“Mom, please...”
“And that's the doorbell,” she continues. “Must dash, dear.”
I open my mouth to reply, but the line goes dead and all I can do is lean back in the driver's seat and let out a gasp of frustration. I swear to God, half an hour ago I was looking forward to going to my parents' house with Dean, and now the whole weekend has fallen apart. Well, maybe I wasn't exactly looking forward to it, not in the sense that I thought I'd have fun, but it was still something to do, something that felt vaguely normal. The last thing I want is to sit around at home for the next few days, but I don't want to get interrogated by Mom either. Sitting here in the car, I truly can't work out where to go. Anyone I go to visit will just ask about Dean, and he's the last person I want to think about right now.
Unless...
Suddenly there's a tapping sound at the window, and I look over just as the passenger-side door opens and Dean climbs into the car, tossing his holdall onto the back seat.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“We're going away for the weekend, aren't we?”
“I told you -”
“I'm sorry I called you a bitch,” he replies, pulling the door shut. “That was... I just got all hot under the collar, and I felt like you weren't listening to me, like I was being disrespected. You know what it's like, right? If you think about it, it's good that we argue so much. It shows we've still got some passion.”
“Are you serious?” I ask with a frown.
He pauses for a moment, before putting a hand on my knee. “Let's go to your parents' house. Come on, I hate arguing with you. You're right, I should be more patient sometimes. If you really want to start thinking about planning a family of our own, then maybe it's not such a bad idea after all. We can at least start checking our budget to see if we can afford a kid. I'm not saying it's gonna happen this year, but we can let the possibility simmer for a while, just in case.”
Staring at him, I genuinely can't work out whether he means what he's saying, or whether he's just trying to end the argument. Ten minutes ago I was furious at him and determined to leave him behind, but now my anger is already fading and he's staring at me with those puppy dog eyes that always break my resolve.
“If we don't go to your Mom and Dad's,” he continues, “then where can we go? Somewhere that doesn't break the bank, obviously.”
Sighing, I realize I've already surrendered. “I don't know,” I reply, feeling like a complete loser. Damn it, I was so close to finally ending it with him. “I was actually thinking about...” My voice trails off as I think about the last time I visited uncle Eli in Tulepa, three years ago. No-one else has been to see him since, and the only contact has been Christmas cards. “I was thinking of going to Tulepa,” I say finally. “It's about four hours' drive from he
re and -”
“Great.”
“Hang on,” I reply. “My uncle lives there, but it's not exactly the most exciting place on the planet.”
He shrugs. “Who cares? Is this that weird uncle, the one Karen always goes on about?”
“He's not weird, he's just...” Pausing, I realize that three years is a long time for no-one to have checked on Eli, and I could totally make it seem like we just happened to drop by instead of it becoming some big, formal thing. Besides, I kind of like the idea of dropping Dean into such a strange, small little town, and seeing whether he sinks or swims. “A lot of my family is originally from Tulepa,” I continue cautiously. “Everyone except Eli moved away years ago, but our roots are still there. I guess if you really want to see where the Denton family comes from, Tulepa's the place to go.”
“Then let's get moving,” he replies, buckling himself in before leaning over and kissing my cheek. “Come on, Holly, I hate it when we argue. Let's get away, just the two of us, and visit your mad uncle Eli.”
“He's not mad.”
“That's not what Karen said at Thanksgiving last year. She made him sound like a total freak.”
“Karen hasn't seen Eli for years,” I reply, bristling at that description. “None of them have. Just me.”
“Whatever. Let's hit the road.” He squeezes my knee. “And I swear, I'll never call you the b-word again.”
Sighing, I start the engine. I feel as if I just gave in, as if I should have told him to go to hell, but Dean always knows how to burrow his way back under my skin, even after one of our regular arguments. Still, I've been thinking for a while that I should drop back through Tulepa and see Eli again, not to check on him but just to see how he's doing. Even today, after three years, I still have a niggling sensation in the back of my mind that maybe I didn't quite see everything that was going on in Tulepa.
