by L. L. Soares
“I’d like to think so. Sometimes it helps people to talk to someone who they can trust. And you can trust me. I’m on your side.”
“And you won’t tell Michael anything I say?”
He made a zipping motion across his lips. “Not a word.”
I thought for a moment. I was old enough to know that the things Michael had been doing to me were very, very wrong. If anyone found out, he would be in a lot of trouble, maybe even go to jail. And then what would happen to Mom? Would she hate me? Would we lose our house and have to live on the street? Maybe I’d have to quit school and get a job. But who would hire a ten-year-old kid?
Dr. Harvey continued to study me, waiting. I squirmed in the seat, wishing I were invisible. What if I told the truth and Michael found out somehow? What if they didn’t do anything to him, and he was still in the house with Mom and me? What if he tried to really hurt me?
“Are you afraid of your stepfather, Josh?”
After a minute, I nodded. Nodding wasn’t really saying anything, after all. I couldn’t get in trouble for nodding.
“Can you tell me what he does that frightens you?”
More uncomfortable minutes passed. I could feel Dr. Harvey’s eyes on me as he waited for me to say something. He seemed to be willing to wait for as long as it took.
“Remember, Josh—you can tell me anything, and Michael will never find out. I won’t even tell your mother. I promise.”
“I think he hates me,” I mumbled, staring at my hands. There was something about Dr. Harvey that made me scared to meet his eyes. What if he could tell what I was thinking?
“Why do you think that?” Dr. Harvey asked. He was the first adult who didn’t insist on arguing with me. I didn’t want to hear that Michael didn’t hate me, because I knew he did.
He had to hate me to give me that bear.
I said nothing. Dr. Harvey was leaning back in his own chair now, so I resumed kicking. Tha-thunk. Tha-thunk. Tha-thunk.
“Does he say mean things to you?”
I nodded.
“Does he ever hit you?”
“Not really,” I whispered. If I told the truth, he’d report it, and then Michael would know what I’d done.
“Josh, does Michael…does he ever touch you in an inappropriate way?”
My eyes widened, but Dr. Harvey wasn’t disgusted or angry; he looked just as he had when he’d asked me the other questions. My stomach churned—I knew exactly what he was getting at, and the very thought made me sick. “No, never.”
The doctor wrote something down on his clipboard. “How long has Michael been saying mean things to you?”
“Since he gave me Edgar.”
The thought of the bear and its twisted snout and evil yellow eyes made me feel cold.
“And Edgar is the teddy bear, correct?”
I nodded.
“Josh, why do you think Michael gave you Edgar?”
“Because he hates me,” I said.
Chapter Seven
Meeting Dr. Harvey was one of the best things that could have happened to me. Just knowing that there was someone I could talk to every week who would listen gave me courage.
The one thing I could not talk about was Edgar. Every week, Dr. Harvey asked about him, and every week I managed to change the subject. Telling my mom the truth was one thing, but I knew I could never tell another adult. Not unless I wanted to be hauled off to the place where crazy people go.
The bolder I got, the weaker Michael became. Ever since I started seeing Dr. Harvey, Michael didn’t hit me anymore. The ice-water baths stopped. He rarely raised his voice. Instead, he simply avoided me. It was an uneasy peace, but much better than how things had been before.
The destruction stopped too. I know Mom suspected that talking to Dr. Harvey was letting me express my anger in a healthy way. It hurt that she didn’t believe me, but maybe it was better. I was a kid and I could barely handle it. The truth would probably be enough to drive Mom crazy.
As for Edgar, I hardly saw him anymore. Sometimes I thought I caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye, and other times I was awakened by something painful but half-remembered, only to find a strange bruise on my cheek or a red mark on my arm. After a while, even that stopped happening. I thought I’d finally seen the last of Edgar.
Sadly, I was wrong.
About a month after I started seeing Dr. Harvey, it happened again. Someone whispering my name startled me out of a deep sleep.
“Josh…Josh…Jaaawwwwossssh…”
This time, instead of cowering under the covers and praying for morning to come, I snapped on the light. Wincing at the sudden brightness, I looked around the room, darting quick glances at every shadowy corner.
Nothing.
I was alone.
“Who’s there?” I demanded, knowing once and for all that the whisperer wasn’t Michael. There was no way he would have been able to find a place to hide so quickly.
Crossing my arms, I prepared to wait. Within a few short minutes, I heard it again.
“Josh…Josh…Jaaawwwwossssh…”
I leapt out of bed. “Where are you?” I yelled, not caring who I woke up. Seizing my Yoda flashlight, I shined it under the bed. I searched in my closet and in my toy chest. Nothing.
By the time I climbed back into bed, my pajama top was sticking to my sweat-soaked skin. I was determined to stay up the rest of the night, to catch Edgar in the act and to prove once and for all, even to myself, that he was the one who tormented me.
But the excitement of the search had gotten to me, and soon enough, my eyes closed. I fell asleep with the lights on, my Yoda flashlight clutched in one hand.
I was standing in a field. The sun beat warm against my face, and I could smell the rich soil and the faint perfume of wildflowers. A man headed toward me from across the field—slower at first, and then faster and faster. I wasn’t surprised to see the man was my father, because I knew I was dreaming. He was much the same, except there were streaks of silver in his blond hair, and more smile lines around his eyes.
He held out his arms for me, and I ran to embrace him.
“Dad!”
I buried my face in his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne. I never wanted to let him go, but all too soon Dad pulled back from me. Rather than being thrilled to see me, he looked worried. “Your mother is in trouble, Josh.”
“What? Why?”
“You have to save her.”
Mom, in trouble? I knew she hadn’t been happy lately, but it wasn’t as if she was the one who had her head pushed under water.
“What’s wrong with Mom?”
“It’s the bear. You have to get rid of the bear, Josh. You have to get rid of Edgar.”
At the mention of his name, it was as if the sun went behind a cloud. “But how? I don’t even know where he is anymore.”
“He’s never far from you. All you have to do is keep your eyes open, and you’ll see him. You must destroy him.”
A sharp, stabbing pain in my foot made me cry out. My father reached out a hand to steady me. “What is it, son? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I said, hopping on one leg as I clutched my injured foot. “I think something bit me!”
Another shot of intense pain, this time in my other foot, made me scream. I collapsed to the ground, rocking back and forth. Lightning traveled through my nerve endings, pain so intense I could barely stand it. My dad bent to gather me in his arms.
“He knows you’re with me. He can see us. Nowhere is safe right now, Josh, not even in your head. Every time you come to me you will be punished, do you understand? If you want to keep visiting me, you’ll have to destroy the bear. Can you promise? Promise me you’ll destroy it.”
I shrieked as my left foot was the victim of another vicious bit
e. Curling into the fetal position, I moaned as Dad tried to comfort me.
“Go back, son,” he said. “Go back, and he won’t hurt you anymore.”
I opened my eyes. The field of wildflowers was gone. In its place was only darkness. Why was it so dark? I was sure I’d left the light on. My feet still throbbed with pain, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been in the dream. I pushed on the switch of my Yoda flashlight. Click-click. Click-click. The battery was dead. I must have fallen asleep before I could turn the flashlight off.
I reached for the lamp, but before I could touch the switch, something soft grazed my hand. I bit my lip to keep from crying out. Waiting in the dark, I held my breath, my eyes squeezed shut. I didn’t want to see the yellow eyes that I knew would be staring back at me. Finally I got up the nerve to fumble for the lamp again. This time nothing touched me.
Slowly, I risked a peek. My room was empty again. I was alone.
But embedded in my feet were three brass tacks.
Chapter Eight
Sean sounded surprised to hear from me that weekend. I guess I couldn’t blame him; we hadn’t really spoken in weeks. Either I was grounded or I was too ashamed over the latest punishment to want to see anyone.
“What do you want to do?” he asked as we sat in my backyard, popping the heads off the dandelions. It was Saturday afternoon, a sunny June day that held a promise of the summer to come. I was determined Edgar would be out of our lives before school was out. There was no way I could handle being in the house with him all week.
“Let’s go treasure hunting.” The weather had definitely worked in my favor. If it had been raining, Sean would never have agreed to my plan.
“Asstastic! Where do you want to go? The train tracks?” There was always plenty of treasure to be found at the rail yards. We both had an impressive collection of rusty iron spikes.
“Nah, let’s go to the dump. Do you know how to get there?”
Sean’s eyes widened. The town dump was a half-day ride on our bikes, easy. It also required sneaking past Mr. McGilvery, who stood guard at the huge gate and charged people money for the privilege of getting rid of their old junk. Scavenging in the dump was strictly forbidden. We both knew kids who had done it successfully, but we also knew more kids who had gotten caught.
“Sure, I guess I do, but that’s pretty far. What about the lake?”
The lake was about ten blocks from my house. Some people liked to sit on the small bit of sand that surrounded it and pretend it was a beach. As a result, it was a good place to find treasure too—lost earrings, bits of change, keys. Sean had found a dirty magazine there once, and was always hoping that lightning would strike twice.
“Nah, we went there last time. Besides, I wanna drop something off.”
Sean’s eyes gleamed. The guy was a walking radar detector when it came to mischief. “Whatcha got, Josh?”
I shrugged, being careful to stay casual. If I gave Sean any reason to suspect how scared I was, one of two things would happen—he’d get freaked out and refuse to go, or he’d tease me so bad I’d never hear the end of it. Neither were great options. “Just that ugly bear of my stepfather’s. I want to get rid of it.”
I needn’t have worried. Sean threw his head back and laughed, a long, high cackle. “Asstastic! We’ll be pirates, and the ugly-ass bear can be our prisoner.”
I liked the thought of Edgar being at our mercy. I was glad Sean had agreed, because one thing was for sure—I wouldn’t have had the guts to go without him.
Finding Edgar had been a challenge. Once I made sure my mom was working in her garden, I crept into her bedroom. Since Michael had moved in, they’d been keeping it locked, but I could open it easily with my plastic library card. My pulse pounding in my throat, I hurriedly searched their closet and dresser drawers. I even looked under their bed, cold sweat running along the tip of my nose. But I didn’t find anything, much less that dreaded teddy bear. I wondered why Michael was so determined to keep me out of his room. He certainly didn’t have anything worth hiding.
Where was that damn bear?
I remembered my dad’s words from last night’s dream. My hands were trembling as I left Mom’s room, careful to lock the door behind me. With a sinking heart, I tiptoed into my own room, cursing myself for being silly. What was I trying to sneak up on?
I didn’t bother to answer my own unspoken question. I knew exactly why I was being sneaky.
Edgar was in the first place I looked, lying in my closet underneath the pile of clothes. I was expecting to see him, but I still had to bite my lip to keep from yelling when I saw him in the gloom, leering up at me.
Before I could lose my nerve, I threw an old blanket over the bear and wrapped him in it as tightly as I could, tying the bundle with an old skipping rope. Then I stuffed Edgar, blanket and all, into my backpack. I hadn’t had the guts to put the backpack on yet, and as Sean and I talked, I kept glancing over at it, expecting to see it move.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go!” Sean was practically hopping from foot to foot with excitement. I knew it was going to be hard to keep up with him. On a normal day, he was a faster rider than I was, but with an adventure ahead, he’d take off like a rocket.
“Just a minute,” I said. “I need to tell my mom we’re going.”
Mom was bent over her flowerbed. With a sad little pang, I saw there were strands of gray in her light brown hair. Just like Dad in Heaven or wherever he was, she was getting older.
I had to call her name a few times before she answered. She looked around with a puzzled expression, almost as if she didn’t know where she was. Purple shadows circled her eyes, so dark they were like bruises.
“Did you call me, Josh?”
“Yeah. Sean and I are going to go on a treasure hunt. Is that okay?”
She squinted up at me, using one gloved hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “I guess so. Are you going to the lake?”
Crap. I hadn’t expected her to ask me where we were going. Usually she only needed to know what I was doing and with whom. “Yeah, and a couple other places.” I felt heavy with the guilt of lying to her.
“You’ll be back before dinner?”
“Well, here’s the thing. Sean’s mom is ordering pizza, and she asked me if I could go over there for dinner. Is that okay?”
Mom’s face relaxed. She appeared relieved that I’d be someone else’s problem that evening, and I knew what she was thinking—the less time Michael and I spent in each other’s company, the better.
“I don’t see why not. It’s good to see you spending time with your friends again.”
“Yeah. Hey, Mom, can I borrow one of those shovel things?”
She was confused until she saw that I was pointing to the garden tool she held. “You mean a spade? Why on earth would you need a spade?”
I rolled my eyes, trying to seem as exasperated as possible. “Geez, Mom! How are we supposed to dig for buried treasure if we don’t have a shovel?”
Mom smiled, the first real smile I’d seen from her in a while. It didn’t erase the sadness in her eyes, but at least it was a start. “Of course. I should have realized.” She handed me the tool, its business end already coated in dirt. “You better wash that off first, or you’ll get your things all mucky.”
I agreed, but I had no intention of cleaning it. Let Edgar get a bit dirty—it would serve him right.
That bike ride was the strangest of my life, and I hope never to repeat it. Sean grinned when he heard my story of the pizza supper at his house.
“That’s perfect! That will give us the time we need to get there and back.” He threw his leg over his bike and sighed. “I kinda wish we were going to the lake and eating pizza at my house. It would be a lot easier.”
“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” I said, knowing full well that Sean wouldn’t be able t
o resist the challenge. “I can go by myself.”
As we soon learned, Sean was right to have reservations. We hadn’t been pedaling for more than twenty minutes before thick, dark storm clouds clustered above us.
“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s vagina! Where in the ever lovin’ crap did those come from? It’s supposed to be sunny all day.”
Before I could answer, lightning flashed from one cloud to the next, bright enough to blind us. I swerved, nearly hitting a rock and toppling my bike. I had an unsettling feeling, but I kept pedaling as fast as I could. “Come on! If we hurry, we can make it there before it rains.”
Sean grumbled, but he was soon hard on my heels. The chrome of our spokes flashed with every lightning strike. When the thunder came, it was powerful enough to make the ground vibrate under our wheels. I wobbled again, the original uneasy rider.
“Holy kumquat sheeeit!” Sean cried, fighting to keep his balance. And then the rain came.
I’d been caught in the rain before. Sometimes I’d intentionally sought it out. But never before had I felt anything like this. Every droplet of water was a tiny knife, stabbing at any inch of bare skin. We bent our heads over our handlebars and worked the pedals like we were in the Tour de France, crying out as the rain struck a particularly vulnerable part. It was like getting slapped a million times, or stung by an army of tiny hornets.
“Is this all you got, Edgar?” I spat the words from between gritted teeth, confident Sean couldn’t hear me over the storm. “A little rain isn’t going to stop us.”
We were able to take the trail along McGiver’s Forest most of the way. The trees offered us some protection from the storm, but eventually we ran out of options. It was either the street or the sidewalk. We paused, surveying the crosswalk that ran across Seventh Avenue, one of the busiest streets in town. Seen through the sheet of rain, the lights of the cars were blurred smears of red and gold.
“Should we cross?” Sean asked. The other side of the avenue was more sheltered, but I shook my head. I had a vision of a car trying to stop in time, but unable to, its tires shrieking on the wet pavement, the horrified face of the driver right before he hit us…
