Hell's Hollow

by Summer Stone

  Chapter Nineteen

  I couldn’t get out of bed. Couldn’t find a reason to. Luke came by. I zoned out as he talked. I watched for the black cat to appear.

  “Can you just blame me instead?” he was saying when I tuned back in. “I shouldn’t have gone along with it. I shouldn’t have let you try.”

  I didn’t bother contradicting him. I couldn’t summon the energy.

  “Come on, let’s go to the river. I promise not to throw you in this time.”

  I zoned back out.

  Gabe and Michael took turns sitting with me. Astrid West even came by. Mom must be getting desperate. Next thing you know she’ll have Myra Clay in here offering me a job. Thinking of Myra Clay sent me back to thoughts of Zach — how I’d damaged him, then abandoned him. I wondered why she was letting him stay down in the regular part of the house. Maybe she wasn’t as evil as I’d thought.

  “Oh she’s evil, all right,” said a voice that sounded like my own.

  I sat up, saw my reflection in the freestanding mirror in the corner of the room. Its hair was a mess. Its eyes blazed.

  “Wah wah wah,” it teased. “Get your ass out of bed.”

  I couldn’t breathe. I had not said that. I jumped out of bed and ran into the living room. Mom came out of the kitchen, wearing an apron, covered in flour.

  “You’re up! What can I make you to eat? I’ve been baking. You know how I get when I worry. There’s warm banana bread, a zucchini-papaya loaf that may prove to have been an unfortunate experiment, and a lemon chiffon cake. I was just working on a … Honey, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  I dove into her floury arms. She wrapped them around me, hugged me tight, like she used to when I was little and scared.

  “You’re okay,” she whispered. “I’m here.” But she was crying too.

  For the first time in a long, long time, I spent the night in Mom’s room. I was too afraid to go back to mine. My mind spun, stressing over the scary cat, the scarier girl in the mirror, and once again the fear that I’d invented Zach. But I’d touched him. I’d received notes from him. Gran had always said her hallucinations seemed real. The girl in the mirror seemed real. What if some part of me had written those notes, stuck them in the sock roll, and I just couldn’t remember? Nothing made sense anymore.

  I was a failure and I was crazy.

  In the morning, though I hadn’t slept much, I got up with Mom to head to the bakery. A knock on the door made me jump. I had an image in my head of the black cat out there, standing on its hind legs, ready to lunge as soon as Mom opened the door.

  “Don’t open it,” I whispered.

  She looked at me funny and went to the door. I stepped into the kitchen, only peeking around the entryway to see who it was.

  Dr. Gates smiled, as though life were just so sweet. The calm in her brown wrinkly face made everything seem sane and safe. “How’s our girl today?” she asked.

  Had Mom called her about me? Were they planning to take me in? I’d fight them.

  “Oh,” Mom said. “I should have phoned you. I’m afraid we had to take Mary Kate back to Meadowland.”

  Dr. Gates’ face changed. She shook her head. “You didn’t.”

  “Please,” Mom said, “come in.” She closed the door behind the doctor and stepped into the kitchen. “I’ll put on some tea.” Handing me a plate she loaded with yesterday’s baked goods, she said to me, “I’ll be right out.”

  I set the plate on the cracked coffee table and sat down across from Dr. Gates.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  I tried to tell her, but my voice didn’t want to work.

  Mom came and sat on the arm of my chair, put her hand on my shoulder. “I think we were all just hoping for too much. MK started hallucinating. She threw over the bookshelf.” Mom pointed out the damage. “She completely fell apart when they took her back.”

  Dr. Gates closed her eyes. “I wish you’d called me.”

  “I didn’t want to bother you,” Mom said. “It seemed clear what had to happen.”

  Or maybe she didn’t want the doctor to talk her out of it, I thought.

  “I should’ve warned you.” Dr. Gates said. “I thought maybe it wouldn’t happen because of the unusual manner in which she was healed. I didn’t see any warning signs, so I didn’t think it was necessary to bring it up. I see that was a mistake. I’m so sorry.”

  Everything inside me got tight.

  “Lula, what are you saying?” Mom asked. Her fingers gripped my shoulder.

  “One of the side effects of sudden withdrawal of neuroleptic drugs is an apparent relapse into symptoms. We can’t know for sure, but it’s entirely possible that the hallucinations weren’t because Mary Kate is still psychotic, but rather because she was withdrawing from the medication.”

  Time froze. No one moved or spoke. And then Mom ran from the room.

  I swallowed. “Are you saying MK might not be crazy?”

  “If your momma had called me, I would’ve explained. I thought she’d call if anything became worrisome. I’m so sorry.”

  “We have to get MK out of there.”

  Dr. Gates nodded. “You look haggard. You must have been so concerned about your aunt.”

  I sniffled back tears, nodded. “She might really be okay?” I couldn’t let myself believe it. There was too much proof that this stupid healing thing didn’t work.

  “We’ll have to taper her off the meds this time. But, I think we have to give it a try. Otherwise, how will we ever know for sure?”

  “Will you come with us — to Meadowland — to help MK understand?”

  She nodded. “It’s the least I can do.”

  When Mom came back out of her room, she seemed reluctant. “I just don’t want to get Mary Kate’s hopes up again. It seems cruel.”

  “What other option is there, darlin’?” Dr. Gates asked.

  And there was no answer to that. So the three of us got into Dr. Gates’ car and drove to Meadowland. All the way there, I was thinking about Zach. If MK was okay, what did that mean for him? His wounds had reopened. Why had he been harmed if MK was healed? Had I not done it right with him? Had I passed out too quickly? But if the problem was that I’d quit too soon, shouldn’t that mean that some healing was done, just not finished? Was it possible that the reopening of the wounds had been part of the healing process? What if it wasn’t that the healing attempt had harmed him, but that me passing out and not being able to finish the job was what had caused him to suffer? Maybe if I’d managed to hang in there a little longer, the wounds would have first opened and then healed. There was no way to know for sure.

  My stomach was in knots. Mom parked the car in the Meadowland lot. As we approached the door to my family’s prison, I worried that Martha would be pissed at me for tricking her last time. Mom waved at her. She didn’t look happy. She buzzed us in anyway. But this time there were no smiles, no cheery chitchat. While Mom explained who Dr. Gates was, I inched toward Gran and MK’s room. The black cat blocked my path, hissing and snarling like a rabid mongrel. I stopped in my tracks, knowing it shouldn’t be here.

  Dr. Gates came up behind me, put her arm around me. “Seraphina, is there something you want to tell me?”

  I shook my head, following her around the beast. It didn’t lunge.

  Mary Kate lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her arm twitched.

  “Hello Magdalene, Mary Kate,” Dr. Gates said, taking MK’s pulse, checking her eyes. “Dear Lord, they must be giving her horse doses.”

  No one replied. I sat with Gran, who looked miserable. I wondered if they were giving her horse doses, too. She’d stare at MK for a while, then stare out the window. She didn’t even yell at us to close the door. Mom was still explaining to the doctors that she was signing MK out against their medical advice. So it was up to me to explain to Gran and MK.

  I held Gran’s hand. “Do you remember Dr. Gates, Gran?” She didn’t respond. “She thinks…” I
stopped, almost afraid to say it, afraid of it being wrong. “She says that it’s possible that MK is actually okay, that maybe it was the sudden withdrawal of the meds that made her hallucinate. We’re going to take her home, take her off the meds more slowly, see how she does.”

  Gran looked at me then. “In the forest of the lamb lies the doe.”

  What was she trying to tell me? What there a message in there? Who was the doe? Who was the lamb?

  Mom came in. “We’re all set.” Her smile seemed forced. She was scared too. She sat with Gran for a few minutes, promised we’d visit soon. Then she packed up MK’s few clothes and helped Dr. Gates pull her to her feet. MK didn’t seem to understand what was going on.

  “I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute,” I said, then closed the door behind them. Sitting down next to Gran, I tried to explain.

  “It’s happening,” I confessed, and it felt so good to admit it to someone. “I know what it feels like to see things that aren’t…” I was going to say real, but I wasn’t sure that was the right word. “Things that everyone else doesn’t see.”

  She looked at me then, horrified. “No,” was all she said.

  “It’s okay,” I said, biting back tears. “I have this friend, see, no one knows about him, only he’s real, at least I’m pretty sure he is, not like the scary cat. He’s hurt. The sores I caused are getting infected.” My throat closed up. It was hard to continue. “I’m afraid he might die. And it would be all my fault. I have to fix it. I have to. Because I caused it and because he’s suffering and because…” I couldn’t keep the tears from falling. “I think I love him,” I whispered.

  Gran touched my face.

  “But the thing is, once I do that, it’ll take my mind. I know it will. It’s been getting worse. And I’ve felt his wounds before. They’re big. It will take what’s left of my sanity. I’ll be crazy. I don’t think there will be enough left inside me to heal you, too. And I feel so badly about that, Gran, because you deserve to be healed like MK. I know I’m a horrible person for choosing him over you. But I can’t just leave him to die. So in case there’s only enough for one, I have to choose Zach. I hope you can understand.” I wasn’t sure I could. I cried quietly while she stared out the window.

  Wiping my tears, I said, “The good news is that I’ll be in here with you to keep you company. So don’t let them take away MK’s bed.” My stomach lurched. “We’ll have a great time, you and me. Won’t we, Gran?” My chest felt like it was closing up.

  Mom opened the door. “Are you coming?” She noticed my tear-stained face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I stood up. Gran’s eyes met mine, like she wondered if she should say something, try to stop me. “Gran and I were just talking.” I begged her with my eyes to leave it. She squeezed my hand.

  And then I walked out of Meadowland — probably for the last time.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mom seemed suspicious, like she knew there was something going on with me I wasn’t telling her. She kept watch. I actually felt sorry for her. She had to keep one eye on her sister as she transitioned from crazy to sane. And she had to keep the other eye on her daughter as she went from sane to crazy. And of course she couldn’t let MK out in public until we were sure, which meant she wouldn’t be able to open the bakery, because she couldn’t leave us home alone and she couldn’t take us with her either.

  We sat around the living room watching TV, something Mom hardly ever did. The glee of the last attempt at MK’s health was missing. We were all afraid to hope. I stared at the screen, while I tried to figure out how I was going to get out of there and get to Zach. It made me nervous that Mom wasn’t baking. I couldn’t remember a time when she’d been too upset or too worried to bake. It didn’t make sense. I kept catching her staring at MK. It would be days before we knew for sure if she was okay.

  I thought about sneaking out at night, after they’d gone to bed, but Mom didn’t seem to sleep either. She stayed on the couch all night long. And I was afraid if she went into my room and found me gone, she’d really lose it. But I was terrified about what might be happening with Zach. And I was afraid to be in my room alone in case the girl in the mirror reappeared. So I stayed on the couch with Mom, making it seem like I was being supportive, when really I was just terrified.

  In the morning, Mom was stressing over the checkbook.

  “You could open,” I said. “We’ll be okay here.”

  She shook her head.

  “Then take us with you. MK can stay in your office.”

  She looked at the checkbook, then back at me, then nodded slowly. I knew this was a big deal for her. It also meant I could go check on Zach.

  She situated MK in her office with a stack of books and magazines and told me to watch her. MK was happy with the steady stream of sweets Mom also provided. She was beginning to seem less sedated. But her arm still twitched.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked her, while she stuffed half an éclair into her mouth.

  She nodded. “I think it’s going to be okay this time. I mean I don’t know. It felt okay last time — until it didn’t. But so far so good.”

  “Seraphina!” Mom called, “Can you give me a hand?”

  I came out and found the place packed. I guessed everyone had missed Mom’s baking while she was closed. Either that or they wanted the scoop on why a workaholic like her had been failing to open so much lately. I fell in beside her, covering the cash register until the rush died down.

  “You really should invest in something more modern,” I said, pointing at the antique register.

  “Believe it or not I paid more for that thing than I would’ve for the new ones. People like the look of a place that’s got some history. It’s comforting.”

  MK came out and sat down at one of the little white tables with a book. “What?” she said, looking at Mom. “It’s cramped back there. That room is stifling. Too hot without the air conditioner, too cold with it.” It was true.

  Mom nodded. MK sat quietly, reading and twitching.

  A little while later, Mason McDowell and Sierra Guttierez came in to get donuts. I served them without saying anything. Mason kept pointing at MK when she twitched. They giggled.

  “Who’s that?” Sierra asked me.

  “My aunt,” I said. “Why?”

  Mason giggled.

  “No reason,” Sierra said. “Just wondered. I hadn’t seen her before. How’s your summer going?”

  “Okay,” I shrugged.

  Mason took the box of donuts and paid for it. As they were leaving he whispered, “That’s the one that went nuts. Dude, did you see the way she twitched? Twitchy witch.”

  Mom put her hand on my arm. I shrugged it off. “Why don’t you take a break for a little while,” she said. “Get some fresh air.”

  I had my chance. I went. I didn’t even bother knocking on the door first. I just ran straight to Myra’s backyard, climbed the trellis, and opened the window.

  He was moaning softly.

  “Zach?” I said.

  He got quiet.

  I pulled the shades open to let in some light. He looked awful, his bandages all oozy and gross. What looked like a rabbit skin blanket covered his lower half. It made images of all the diseases Mom had warned me about pop into my mind.

  “You should go,” he said. “She’ll be up to check on me soon.”

  I shook my head. “Listen to me. I can fix this.” My heartbeat felt as though it had forgotten its rhythm. “You have to come down to The Hollow as soon as you’re feeling well enough. We have to try one more time.”

  He shook his head. “She’s taking me back to the hospital tomorrow.”

  His tug felt awful — nauseating and aching and burning. It felt hard to breathe. “Then you have to get down there tonight.” I wasn’t sure how I’d get away, but I’d have to find a way.

  He looked as though he were sad for me. “I can’t. Not like this. I won’t be able to get down the trellis.”

/>   “I’ll carry you if I have to.”

  He half-smiled, which ripped a hole in my heart.

  “How did you always get from the attic window down to the landing? I can’t figure it out.”

  “A rope … tied to the chimney… lots of knots. Let it down to sneak out. Hid it again after.”

  “Well, that’s not going to help us. But, I’m serious, Zach. We have to find a way.” I looked around the room, trying to come up with a plan. My eyes settled on the door. “Okay, here’s what you’re going to do. She’s not locking you in any more. So you’re going to wait until she’s asleep, and then you’re going to walk right out the front door. And you’re going to go to The Hollow. It’s either that or I’ll come up here and get you myself.”

  “No,” he said. “She can’t know that you know. I’ll … I’ll get down there. I’ll try.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I’ll fix it. I promise.”

  “You better go,” he said.

  “Promise me you’ll be there tonight.”

  He nodded. I sent out a silent prayer of thanks that I hadn’t had the chance to tell him about the black cat or the creepy girl in the mirror. If he knew what it might cost me, he would never have agreed to come.

  I climbed out the window and down the trellis, closing my eyes against the black cat, ignoring the sounds of its hissing. I ran up the street toward the bakery.

  George McGraw was heading in. “Hey there. You heard the latest rumors?”

  I shook my head, hoping it wasn’t anything about MK or me.

  “Word has it Myra Clay’s ghost has been moaning in the night, woooo,” he said in a scary voice.

  I wanted to die right there. Neighbors must’ve heard him whimpering. The fact that Myra Clay could still play along with this game, when he was suffering, made me want to kill her. An image popped into my head of me standing at her door. In my hand I held the giant sickle-type knife Mom used to chop shortbread. I shook my head to clear the image and followed George into the bakery.

  “What, you’re too big now? You used to love those stories,” he said, punching my shoulder.