Secrets from Myself

by Christine Hart

  . . .

  I am sitting in an old kitchen, at a small wood table. A plate of buttered toast rests in front of me. I touch the plate and push my finger into the bread. It’s cold. I walk to the edge of the kitchen to look down the hall. The sitting room! I am in the Edwardian home!

  “I have just the girl for you, sir,” says the menacing voice I remember from the clifftop.

  “If you’ll wait in our sitting room, I’ll send her right down,” says the man as he walks into the kitchen. I hear footsteps clacking away from us down the hall.

  “Oh, Akasha, I hadn’t realized you were still down here,” says the man.

  “Yes, Mr. Calhoun. Sorry, I haven’t much of an appetite tonight,” I say. He walks past me through the kitchen and goes upstairs.

  Moments later, he reappears with Estelle, one of the other residents of his home for disadvantaged girls. Estelle looks unhappy. She glances at me. She looks as though she needs help.

  “Cheer up and get that wounded-puppy look off your face, girl. Your client is waiting. If I hear so much as a bad word about you, you’ll find yourself working the docks,” Mr. Calhoun says in a hushed yet angry voice.

  My breathing becomes rapid. My heart thuds up and down in my chest. I rise to go upstairs to my room.

  “Akasha, stay down here, please. We need to have a talk,” says Mr. Calhoun.

  I freeze on the spot. My heart pounds harder. I retreat to the table and pick up the piece of cold toast. I look up as Mr. Calhoun and Estelle go down the hall.

  “No, you can’t make me!” I yell as I grip my pillow. I am in my bed at Arbutus House. The room is dark. Rayanne groans. Did I wake her up? I hold my breath. She rolls over and snores.

  I, however, can’t get back to sleep. I get out of bed and look out the back window. What happened between that confrontation in the kitchen and the clifftop threat? What happened to Akasha after that? If she keeps sharing pieces of her story, I may not need a psychic or a Ouija board to find out what happened. Bringing her justice, on the other hand, still seems impossible.

  Chapter 13

  “I think it’s time to talk about sending you home,” says Jane.

  I am sitting in her office for a session. I am anxious and torn about leaving Vancouver. Arbutus House is starting to suffocate me, but I am not finished. I can’t let Akasha down and I’m certain I can’t do anything for her from Nelson. Proving she was real and finding justice for her murder will take some form of hands-on evidence.

  “I don’t really think I’m sick, mentally or physically. I’ve never believed that. I don’t have much control over my little episodes, but I would never run away from my mom again, I can promise that. I just don’t know if I’m ready to go home,” I say.

  “I hear what you’re saying, but given all the tests you’ve had, and all the therapy we’ve worked through, I think Arbutus House has exhausted what we have to offer you, Katelyn. That said, before we talk about ending your treatment, I do have some things to say I think you’re not going to like.” Jane is wearing a poker face. My skin prickles at the prospect of what she’s about to say.

  “I can’t imagine what you’re going to say that would bother me. I’m weird. I’ve heard it all before.” I give a dismissive shake of my head.

  “Before, we talked about your attempts to seek attention with your behavior. It seemed to me that your mother had to be the intended recipient. But after meet-ing with you both, separately and together, I don’t think that’s the case. Then I met your friend Bryce at the barbeque and I started to put the pieces together. I think you have strong feelings for him and you haven’t been handling his move to Vancouver very well.” Jane waits for my reaction. I can feel heat flooding my face. If Jane could tell, in one meeting no less, that I have a crush on my best friend, who else has figured it out? I’ve worked so hard to make sure nobody knows!

  “How is that any of your business? What does Bryce have to do with my mental health?” I can’t hide the anger in my voice.

  “When did your condition worsen? When did you really start the strange writing in your diary and having these intense dreams?”

  “I don’t know, exactly. I’ve always had blackouts, you know that. It all got worse a few months ago, maybe a little farther back.”

  “I’m not saying you did this consciously or even targeted Bryce’s family …” Jane is still talking, but her voice fades out of my hearing after the words “targeted Bryce’s family” — as though I’m a stalker. I sit in my chair, folding and unfolding my hands, waiting for the noise to end and for her lips to stop moving.

  “Do you think another two weeks here at Arbutus House would prepare you to head back home to Nelson?”

  “I don’t know. It’s hard to say. Can we talk about it again next time?”

  “By all means. You’ve done some good work today. I know I challenged you and it was hard to hear what I had to say. You’re being very mature. So I have a homework assignment for you. Do you still have your diary?”

  Oh no! She wants to read my diary! I frantically go over in my mind everything my precious book contains. It’s no use. There’s no way I could share even a part of it. In a flash, I picture being forced to hand over the book to her.

  “Yes, I do. I brought it with me when Mom and I left Nelson.”

  “Excellent. I want you to write a new entry in your diary. I want you to say goodbye to Akasha. Tell her whatever you want her to know, anything that feels like unfinished business.” Jane’s enthusiasm for this task compels me to ball my fists.

  “Do I have to show you when I’m done?”

  “Not unless you want to. A diary is a private thing and it’s important for you to know you still have a private space. We would never cross that line unless we feared for your safety, or the safety of someone close to you.”

  I do find it comforting to know that she won’t go through my things unless she thinks I’m potentially violent.

  “I’ll go ahead and put the paperwork together for your release. We need one final meeting with Dr. Werdiger. He can refer you back to Dr. MacDonald in Nelson. We’ll have your mom come by as soon as she’s able. All we need is her signature and you can go home.”

  “Great. That’s great. I’m looking forward to it.”

  Movie night turns out to be surprisingly fun. Mariah rented some cheesy eighties-era horror movies with special effects that were more funny than scary. In the Arbutus House living room, I finally feel like I’m in a room full of friends, not fellow mental health inmates.

  Rayanne wiggles into the spot next to me on the loveseat. She has finished detoxing and is much more cheerful than when we first met. Well, cheerful isn’t the right word; I am no longer afraid of her.

  “Still got your Ouija board?” she whispers under the chatter of movie-bashing around us.

  “Yeah, I managed to keep it hidden. I don’t know how I’m going to get it out the door, but hopefully by then it won’t matter. Jane’s pretty keen to move me on out of here.”

  “I wish. But I’ve got an idea for you. We can sneak out tonight with the board and hit the park down the way. It’ll be like our own spooky movie!” she says and giggles. I’m pretty sure Rayanne just wants to smoke and she wants someone to keep her company.

  “Uh, I don’t know about that. What’ll happen if we get caught?” I say.

  “We’re still minors. There’s only so much they can do. Besides, it’s just sneaking out. They’ll never know.”

  Being caught sneaking out might be exactly what I need to extend my stay in Vancouver a bit longer.

  “As long as I don’t come back smelling like a cigarette. The last thing I need is to have Mariah telling my mom she thinks I’ve taken up smoking.”

  “Don’t worry. We’re gonna have so much fun!”

  Melody looks over at us and frowns. I’m not sure if she can hear
us or if she’s just jealous that she’s not in on someone’s secret.

  “When do you want to go?”

  “As soon as Mariah’s gone to bed, we’ll just slip out the back door and around the side of the house.”

  “Have you ever snuck out before?”

  “Here, or ever?”

  “Ever. Like, when you lived at home.”

  “Of course. You haven’t?” Rayanne looks at me with raised eyebrows and wide eyes.

  “I’ve never had a reason. There’s not much to do in Nelson in the middle of the night, especially for kids my age.”

  “Nothing you know of for kids your age.”

  I have to admit that if the popular crowd — or any crowd, really — had anything going on at night, I wouldn’t know about it. Other than Bryce, my friends are just acquaintances from school. I’m not going to share that with Rayanne, though.

  “How will we know for sure when Mariah is asleep?”

  “There’s a bit of risk, yeah. That’s what makes it fun!” Rayanne has a look on her face like she’s talking about going to the mall or a carnival.

  “Okay. I’m in. You lead the way when the time comes.” Rayanne is right. I need to live a little.

  Movie night ends and we retire for bed. Rayanne and I keep each other awake. She borrows my phone. She’s decided to text a friend and ask if he’ll come meet us. I’m suspicious, but if she’s trying to score drugs, she wouldn’t need to bring me along to do it.

  Rayanne tiptoes to Mariah’s room to listen for the heavy breathing sound of sleep while I wait in the living room with my Ouija board on my lap.

  “If she’s not asleep, she’s faking it,” says Rayanne in a hushed voice.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I whisper.

  “Don’t sound so excited.”

  “I mean the sneaking-out part. Let’s just go!”

  Rayanne smiles as she carefully and silently turns the knob on the back door. The front door has a bell that goes off when opened and closed. But the low security at Arbutus House trusts the latch on the gate at the side of the house to keep us in at night.

  We walk to the corner maintaining our silence. Any excitement at our escape could tip off Mariah or any busybody neighbors who watch Arbutus House for stunts like the one we’re pulling.

  “When is your friend meeting us?” I’m still whispering as we reach Cornwall Avenue and our destination, the waterfront park.

  “You don’t have to whisper anymore.” She pulls a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and extracts one. Her lighter snaps on and she exhales a cloud of smoke. I follow her across the parking lot at the edge of the park. She is headed towards a pair of abstract stone knot sculptures.

  “This is where we’re meeting Kevin.”

  “When is he supposed to be here?” I ask.

  “Any minute now. Give me your phone again.” Rayanne’s frustrated tone and deep frown make me anxious.

  “So, is this guy your boyfriend?”

  “Uh, you could say that. There he is!” Rayanne is pointing at a tall skinny boy with baggy pants and a large ball cap askew. He’s just entering the park from a path ahead. A pool of bright blue-white from the streetlight above separates us in the dark summer night. Rayanne takes a step towards Kevin and stops short, her arm out to stop me.

  “Don’t move!” she whispers just as I see what spooked her.

  “Sir, can you show me what’s in your bag there?” says an rcmp officer. I didn’t see him as we approached — his uniform is as dark as the night. He whips a flashlight up to Kevin’s face. Kevin squints.

  “Run!” says Rayanne as she bolts past me, back the way we came.

  Fear nails my feet to the ground for a moment. The sound of Rayanne’s feet draws the officer’s attention and my fight-or-flight instinct kicks in. I’m pounding the ground to catch up to Rayanne. We’re halfway back to Arbutus House before she finally slows to a walk.

  “What the hell just happened there?” I yell.

  “He … we … couldn’t get caught.” Rayanne is out of breath.

  “Get caught doing what? That cop didn’t know we’re from Arbutus House.” I realize immediately that Rayanne is talking about her and Kevin getting caught.

  “What was in Kevin’s bag? What did you almost drag me into?”

  “Shut up. Just. Shut. Up.” Rayanne’s anger transfers to me as her words hit my chest.

  We walk the rest of the way home in silence. Rayanne smokes another cigarette. As we near Arbutus House, I can see the living room light is on. My stomach drops through my core. I follow Rayanne as we retrace our route through the side gate and the back door. Rayanne closes the door quietly as we stand in the dark kitchen. The kitchen light comes on, briefly blinding me.

  “Where have you two been?” says Mariah darkly.

  “We just went for a walk so I could have a cigarette. We were only gone a few minutes,” says Rayanne, dripping with exasperation.

  Rayanne is telling the truth. I didn’t use the Ouija board. This could turn out all right.

  “I don’t care what you were doing. You broke house rules. Day passes. Both of you, now,” says Mariah. We both relinquish our passes on the spot.

  “What’s going to happen to us?” I ask meekly.

  “For starters, you won’t be getting these passes back any time soon. Katelyn, your release is probably going to be postponed. I hope you both had fun. This isn’t summer camp! Get to bed now! Lights out immediately. Not a sound out of either of you,” says Mariah.

  Rayanne rolls her eyes, shrugs, and goes to our room. I stand my ground and open my mouth to respond. I can’t think of anything to say. I’m suddenly very aware that I’ve got the Ouija board stuffed in my backpack. The damage is done, so I decide not to argue. I look at the ground instead and follow Rayanne.

  As soon as we’re back in our room, I slip the board and planchette out of my bag and stuff them between my mattress and box spring. I slip into a pair of sweatpants get into bed.

  “Goodnight, Rayanne,” I whisper to the dark. No reply comes. It takes me a long time to calm myself enough for sleep.

  Chapter 14

  At breakfast, Mariah confirms that my release has been cancelled. My session with Jane and Dr. Wer-diger is still scheduled for this afternoon, so that should be interesting. Rayanne has fared much worse.

  “Pack your things, Rayanne. An officer from the Burnaby Youth Justice Services Center will be here to pick you up at ten,” says Mariah.

  “No! You can’t send me back into custody over smok-ing a cigarette!” says Rayanne angrily.

  “I don’t know where you two went, but you weren’t anywhere on this property. I can’t prove anything other than the fact that you broke the house rules. Adhering to the rules was part of the terms of your release. There’s nothing I can do for you.” Mariah’s eyes are tired, her mouth a hard line.

  Rayanne slams her cutlery down on the table and storms off. I can understand why she is angry. Nobody can prove where we went last night, or why we really snuck out. I finish my cereal in silence, despite my burn-ing curiosity about further consequences for me.

  I walk into Jane’s office for my two o’clock appointment expecting a lecture. Dr. Werdiger and Jane are both wearing poker faces as I sit down.

  “So, what’s the verdict? How much trouble am I in?”

  “We know Rayanne was the instigator of last night’s incident,” says Jane.

  “We think a different approach is warranted in your case, Katelyn,” says Dr. Werdiger.

  “You’re obviously not ready to leave treatment. What we’d like to do instead is have you participate in the Province’s Kickstart program. The businesses involved specialize in helping youth at risk develop soft skills and improve employability prospects,” says Jane.

  “What’s that?” I say, my
forehead furrowed.

  “With your mother’s permission, we’re going to set you up with a volunteer position at a second-hand clothing store downtown,” says Dr. Werdiger.

  “You have a couple of other choices through Kickstart. We could put you in a coffee shop on Kingsway or a restaurant in North Vancouver. Since you’re not used to traveling around Vancouver, I’d like to place you at the location closest to Arbutus House, which is Visions Vintage,” says Jane.

  “So, let me get this straight, you’re giving me a job? Just giving me one,” I say. I suppress my excitement. I’ve often dreaded the day when I’ll have to look for a job in Nelson. Unless I took a sudden interest in Girl Scouts or team sports, I’d have nothing on my resume once I was finally old enough to work.

  “We need to consult your mother, but if you agree, we can start you as early as next week,” says Jane.

  “I think it’s a great idea. I’ve never had a job before. Can I put it on my resume and get a reference?” I say.

  “Yes, you can put it on your resume. But you need to be clear about the fact that this is not a job. You’re a volunteer and you won’t be paid. You’ll have to ask the manager for a reference. I would leave that until the end of your time there,” says Jane.

  “Jane tells me she gave you homework to write to your past life in your diary, to say goodbye and achieve some closure for the delusion. Have you done this yet?” says Dr. Werdiger.

  “I was going to do that last night, but then Rayanne wanted to sneak out,” I say. I immediately regret using the term sneak out.

  “Do it tonight. You can discuss the outcome with Jane in your next session,” says Dr. Werdiger.

  “I’m prepared to return your day pass if you’re able to commit to using the pass properly and conforming to house rules from here on in,” says Jane.