The Forgotten Girl

by India Hill Brown

  Daniel kept his head down, eating, but looked up and over his glasses at Iris, willing her not to say anything about them visiting the graveyard.

  They’d been doing research all week, but Iris couldn’t wait any longer. She had to ask her parents.

  “Daniel, are you having trouble cutting the lasagna?” Mr. Rose said. “Here, it’s easier if you place your pointer finger over your fork. See?”

  Daniel did as Mr. Rose suggested.

  “Thanks, Mr. Rose,” he said, glancing at Iris again.

  “Mama,” Iris said again. She was talking to Mrs. Stone now.

  “Mama.”

  Mama and Mrs. Stone turned to look at Iris. Mama gave Iris a look.

  “Now, Iris. Was that polite to interrupt the grown-ups talking?”

  Well, I was trying to get your attention when you were talking to Vashti, but you didn’t listen! Iris thought, but instead said:

  “I’m sorry. I need to talk to you about something. It’s important.”

  The table got quiet, with even Daddy slowing up on how fast he was eating his lasagna.

  “Have you ever heard about a girl named Avery Moore? Or a Moore family?”

  “Avery Moore?” Mama scrunched her brow. “No, who is she?”

  “I—” Iris didn’t want to say it, but she had to. How else would she find out if her parents knew something?

  “Avery Moore. Hmm. It sounds familiar,” said Mrs. Stone thoughtfully, and Iris perked up.

  “Are you sure you aren’t thinking of Avery Jones? The actress?” Mrs. Rose asked the both of them.

  “Oh, you know what, that’s exactly who I’m thinking of,” said Mrs. Stone, and Iris’s eyes dropped in disappointment.

  “Why, Iris?” her mom pressed. “Who is she?”

  “Okay, so … you know how Daniel and I are doing the project on abandoned graveyards around this town, right?”

  “Yes, sweetie.”

  “Okay. Well …” Iris looked at Daniel, his eyes wide under his glasses. “We … found one. And we think it might’ve been segregated. And we’ve changed the project to focus specifically on segregated sites.”

  “A cemetery?” her mom asked, glancing at Mrs. Stone. “Where?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Um …” She paused. Once she said it, there was no turning back.

  “It’s across the street. In those woods, back behind those houses? There’s a clearing back there and … I saw it.”

  Everyone at the table was silent. Even Vashti, who picked up on the fact that something serious had happened, froze with her fork in midair, her beads swinging from side to side.

  “There’s a girl’s grave back there. Her name was Avery and she was around our age. There are others, too, but the names are so old and almost worn off. Daniel and I looked online and couldn’t find anything, so we just wanted to know if … you … knew …” Iris trailed off.

  Her mom just stared at her, trying to figure out if Iris should be reprimanded or congratulated, in private or in public, right now or later.

  “What?” was all she said.

  “And I—” Daniel opened his mouth, but Iris talked over him. There wasn’t any point of both of them being grounded, or something. Like she said, he could pay her back for it later.

  “Yes, Mama.” she said. “I went looking, coming home from school one day, because I had a … feeling that one was back there.” She couldn’t tell her mama she’d been sneaking out to do it. She’d never see daylight or her step team again.

  “An abandoned cemetery,” Daddy said, sighing and leaning back in his seat. “Here. In our own neighborhood.”

  “And to think, we’ve been living across the street from it for this long and had no idea … Iris, are you sure? It wasn’t a—stone or something?”

  “I’m sure, Mama,” Iris said. “I’m very positive.”

  “Now, Iris, you shouldn’t have gone back there by yourself,” Daddy said. “You don’t know what else could’ve been back there.”

  “I went, too, Mr. Rose,” Daniel blurted out before Iris could stop him, looking from Mr. Rose to Mrs. Stone. “I’m sorry, Mama.”

  Iris’s eyes widened in shock. But Daniel was a rule follower. He wasn’t going to keep this away from his mom if he could help it. And he wasn’t a liar. Neither was Iris.

  Until recently.

  “Daniel!” Mrs. Stone said, her voice high-pitched. “If something were to happen to you back there …”

  The unspoken words filled the air, and Iris felt a pang in her stomach. Daniel was all Mrs. Stone had; of course she didn’t want to lose him.

  “We’re really sorry,” Daniel said. “We won’t go back. We’re just really passionate about this project.”

  “Yeah,” Iris agreed. “We’re sorry.”

  But Mrs. Rose’s face became solemn. “Do not go back there by yourselves anymore. Do you hear me? You don’t know what could be lurking back there. Anything or anyone could be lurking in those woods. It’s dangerous. Just do your research and let us know if you need help. Do you understand?”

  Iris nodded; she understood more than her mom knew. She rubbed the back of her neck, trying and failing to push away the feeling that something was breathing on it.

  “And that goes for you, too, Daniel,” Mrs. Stone said. “I don’t want to hear anything about you going back there looking for trouble.”

  “We won’t,” Iris and Daniel said in unison.

  “We’re serious,” Daddy said, his voice rising in warning.

  “We won’t,” Iris said again, her lie thick on her tongue. She knew she’d be going back. One way or another.

  “Good. Now, what else do you plan to do for this project? How did you come to the conclusion that it was segregated?”

  Iris put her fork down, relishing the fact that all eyes were on her, not on whatever cutesy thing Vashti was doing.

  “Remember how you told us this neighborhood was once predominately Black, Mama? But get this—Sampson’s Perpetual Care was a Whites-only cemetery!” The adults gasped. Sampson’s Perpetual Care was where Daniel’s own father was buried. “When we searched for predominately Black cemeteries in the area, nothing popped up. But they had to be buried somewhere, right?” Daniel nodded as Iris spoke, his cheeks full from the lasagna. “So, we think some people were buried back there, in an abandoned graveyard. We’re going to keep researching the history of segregation and segregated graveyards in North Carolina … and Easaw. When we present our project, we’re also going to present some ways that we can get the graveyard restored!”

  Iris was practically beaming when she finished. It was almost enough to quell her dread completely.

  “I am so proud of you!” Mama exclaimed. “And you, too, Daniel! What a wonderful thing y’all are doing for the community.”

  Iris just smiled at everyone at the table, even Vashti. Her little sister gave her a cheesy grin in return, tomato sauce all over her face.

  “All right,” Daddy said. “Now, let’s get back to this lasagna.”

  “Iris,” Mrs. Rose said. She was cleaning up the kitchen while Iris’s father packed up the leftovers for tomorrow. “I’ll be upstairs in a second to help you wrap your hair.”

  “Mine, too! Right, Mama?” Vashti said, her new beaded hairstyle swinging behind her.

  Iris shielded her eye roll from her mother. Beaded braids were Iris’s thing—she was the only girl in most of her classes to have them, and Vashti usually wore ponytails with ball-shaped bows on the end. Now, for some reason, she had her hair just like Iris’s and everybody thought it was cute. She already had Iris’s old toys and what used to be Iris’s second helping of pancakes. Now her hairstyle?

  “Yes, sweetie. Actually, I need to do yours first,” she said. “Iris, I’ll be in your room after I wrap Vashti’s.”

  Ugh. “Okay, Mama. I’m going upstairs.”

  “Goodnight, babygirl.” Daddy came over to give Iris a kiss. “Have a good night’s sleep.”

  “I will,” Iris s
aid, her shoulders heavy from the weight of the day. She was ready to call it a night.

  She went upstairs and waited for Mama, first reading a chapter of her library book, then picking up her tablet and returning to the photo she’d taken.

  Iris stared at the smudge, trying to figure out what she was looking at.

  Her door creaked open.

  Iris jumped up, but it was just her mother. She quickly stuffed her tablet under her pillow.

  “Uh-uh, Iris,” her mom said. “Didn’t I tell you no tablet before bed? If I catch you again, I’ll take it away.”

  “I’m sorry.” Iris took the tablet from under her pillow and put it in the drawer of her nightstand.

  “How are you feeling?” Mama asked. “About what the principal and I discussed?”

  Iris shrugged. It bothered her, but she didn’t feel like talking about it.

  “It’s fine,” Iris lied. “Are you ready to wrap my hair for me?” She reached for her favorite purple scarf.

  “Oh, that’s what I meant to ask you about—this bonnet is too big for Vashti’s head. Can she use your scarf tonight and you use this bonnet?” Iris’s mom held up an ugly-looking black bonnet with white and silver flowers.

  Iris scrunched up her face. “Ew, Mama.”

  “It’s just for one night. We’ll have to get her a new one tomorrow.” She walked over to Iris and took the scarf from her hand, replacing it with the ugly bonnet.

  My favorite scarf.

  As if she read Iris’s thoughts, her mama kissed her forehead. “She just wants to be like her big sister, sweetie.”

  “Hmph.”

  “I’ll be right back. And don’t let me catch you with that tablet again.”

  “You won’t,” Iris said as her mom closed the door, leaving her with a darkness that only the night-light cut through.

  Iris looked at the bonnet again and tossed it in frustration.

  I guess I could say my prayers or something before Mama comes back … she thought.

  She closed her eyes and folded her hands.

  She opened one eye. She felt like someone was staring at her.

  There was a tap-tap-tap at her window.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, and kept them closed until she drifted off to sleep.

  Iris’s eyes popped open.

  She’d heard something.

  What was that?

  She stared straight at the ceiling, realizing she’d fallen asleep praying and rolled over. Was she still asleep and dreaming?

  The door creaked in the darkness.

  Iris tried to sit up, but couldn’t move.

  Oh no, she thought. A nightmare. The witch was riding her back again. Suga told her never to fall asleep on her back—that’s how it happens. Now Iris was trapped, forced to look at whatever scary image her mind would make up.

  She heard the creak again.

  Her heart pounded.

  Mama? Had she come back to help her wrap her hair?

  She moved her eyes to her bedroom door.

  It was still closed.

  A movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

  It was her window, slowly opening with nothing but darkness behind it.

  What’s going on? Iris thought frantically. She felt helpless. She tried to will herself to wake up from the dream. But she couldn’t escape it.

  The window slowly slid open more, the darkness behind it threatening to swallow her whole.

  The overwhelming feeling of someone being in the room with her took over, as if darkness had climbed into the bed with her.

  She couldn’t see; the night-light was powerless against the darkness pushing in, reaching for it, swallowing it—

  Her night-light flickered, then went out.

  Iris was in complete darkness.

  She shivered, but couldn’t tell if it was from her fear or how cold her room had gotten all of a sudden.

  The spirits of the snow.

  They were here, finally catching Iris alone and unable to move, feeding off her fright. They would take her back into the snow with them.

  Iris wanted to cry, wanted to scream, but she couldn’t.

  “Iris.”

  Goose bumps prickled her skin. Cold sweat slid down her forehead into her hair.

  She had no choice but to peer into the darkness that pressed in all around her.

  Then she saw it.

  The shimmering, gray shadow of a young girl emerging from her window, a deeper darkness sitting where her eyes should be.

  “Help me,” the girl said, her voice too high-pitched. It sounded like one of Vashti’s dolls had come to life.

  Iris willed her feet to move, her mouth to open so she could scream for help before the spirit took her back to the woods.

  “I’m not here to hurt you,” she said, moving soundlessly toward Iris. “I am lost and you found me. You lay on my grave. Your angel rests where I do. You noticed me.”

  Finally, Iris was able to speak. “Are you—” Her voice cracked. “Are you going to take me away?”

  The girl smiled, almost as if she could see through Iris’s skull to her innermost thoughts. It was an odd smile that moved as slow as molasses and took over her entire face.

  “No, Iris Rose, I only want to be your friend.”

  Iris stared at the spirit, fear and confusion fighting in her mind. She blinked.

  The spirit twirled in a slow circle, her pink dress floating around her like a mist, her skinny legs bare underneath it. She looked young, innocent even, until you saw her eyes.

  “Iris, I just want to be your friend.”

  And the spirit was gone, but her voice still echoed around the room.

  “Iris, Iris. Do you know what it feels like to be forgotten? Remember me.”

  The sun came into Iris’s room, gray, watery.

  The sound of a door creaking made Iris bolt up in bed. The window was open, the room covered in a thin layer of frost.

  “Good morning, Iris.”

  Iris whipped her head around.

  It was Mama, walking through the bedroom door, bringing with her the bright light from the hall and a gust of warmth. All the frost that had covered every surface evaporated in an instant.

  Iris rubbed her eyes. She must have still been half asleep.

  “Oh, Iris, your braids are so frizzy. Have you been sweating?”

  “Mama,” Iris said slowly, her heartbeat slowing down, the fear of her latest dream disappearing, replaced with annoyance. “You forgot to help me wrap my hair last night.”

  She was reminded of the question the spirit asked her last night.

  “Do you know what it feels like to be forgotten?”

  Mama put a hand to her head. “I did, Iris. I’m so sorry. But … you had the bonnet. You could’ve at least put it on yourself.”

  Iris said nothing. When Mama wrapped her hair, she kissed her forehead, talked to her, and told her goodnight. It was more than just putting on a bonnet.

  Mama grabbed Iris’s hand. Her fingers were warm where Iris’s were cold and clammy.

  “I’m sorry. I won’t forget tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  “I can fix your hair a little before we leave for church. It’s time to get up.”

  “Okay.”

  Iris’s mother walked out of the room, the gray morning sky opening up to bright sun rays slicing across the walls.

  Iris lay there, thinking about her dream last night, how terrified she felt. How cold she felt. These dreams were getting more and more realistic.

  But at the same time, they weren’t making sense. She dreamed about a spirit of the snow that told her she’d wanted to be her friend.

  It wasn’t at all what Iris pictured a spirit of the snow would look like. She just looked like …

  A little girl.

  The same little girl she saw when she was taking a picture of …

  It couldn’t be.

  “Your angel rests where I do,” the girl had said.

&
nbsp; Iris had a feeling she wasn’t dreaming about the spirits of the snow at all. She was just dreaming about … a spirit.

  The spirit of Avery Moore.

  Her heart thumped as the realization hit her. Her nightmares hadn’t seemed so intense, so realistic, until the night when she’d seen the girl—Avery—in her window. The night after she’d uncovered her grave. That’s where the nightmares were coming from. She needed to find out more about Avery. No fear, no nightmares. Just solving the mysteries of who this girl had been when she was alive and why she was so alone in death.

  Iris jumped up, following her mama out of her bedroom. It had just been another nightmare, right? Even if they were … starting to feel more real.

  Still, she did not want to be left in her room alone.

  It was Sunday morning, time for church. Daniel, his mom, and Suga were all in their rooms getting dressed, Daniel tying his tie exactly the way his daddy taught him.

  “Daniel! We’re ready!” His mom called him from downstairs.

  He looked in the mirror one more time, eyeing the mini waves in his shiny black hair. He bounced down the stairs, his dress shoes slapping on each step. They didn’t always dress up for church on Sundays, but they did on days when they knew they’d be visiting Daddy’s grave. Daniel wanted him to see how nicely he could tie his tie now.

  “Look at my boy, so handsome,” Mama said, giving him a kiss on his forehead. Daniel could feel the stickiness of her lipstick still there. “Isn’t he, Suga?”

  Suga stared at Daniel for a long while. Then her golden-brown chin, surrounded by small lines like the ones on top of peanut butter cookies, trembled as she smiled. “Looking more like Cecil each and every day.”

  Daniel smiled at both of them. When Suga was like this, she wasn’t so bad. “Thank you. And you ladies look beautiful.”

  Together, the three of them walked to church, which wasn’t too far from their house. There were a few flurries last night, but luckily, nothing stuck overnight, so Suga could come, too. Iris and her family usually arrived late, after the congregation finished praise and worship and were all being seated, the Roses whispering and apologizing the whole way down the aisle until they took their seats beside the Stones.