Something Happened

by Brandy Isaacs

  “Seven.”

  “Right. You didn’t have any time to prepare for a seven-year-old, right?”

  “Right,” she agreed, as Kerry slid back into the apartment with a flourish.

  “And,” Shep continued. “I guess there was something pretty…bad that led to you having custody of Beckett?”

  Rion sighed heavily. She decided not to fight Shep and Kerry. Both of them were trying too hard to be easily deterred. And if she was honest with herself, she needed to talk. She felt like something was going to claw its way out of her chest if she didn’t let it out on her own. “Yeah,” she filled the glasses with ice and passed them around.

  “Well, spill girlfriend. I told you my dirty secrets. Well…not all of them,” she laughed. “Some of them would send you running for the hills.”

  “My dad left when I was six,” Rion took a drink of the red concoction that Kerry mixed. She smacked her lips softly. “Man, that’s better than bourbon.” Shep pretended to be offended. “My mom…was a terrible mother. She was addicted to drugs. And men. When I was seven I was taken by the state. Put into foster care.” Kerry grimaced with empathy. Shep tried to be sympathetic, but clearly he didn’t know what that entailed.

  “How bad was it?” Kerry asked.

  “Bad.”

  Shep hesitated but then finally asked. “How long were you there?”

  “Different times. Different lengths. The first time was a year.”

  “How many different homes?” Kerry took a long draw from her drink.

  Rion thought for a moment. “I lost count. Between ten to fifteen over the years.”

  “Damn,” Shep murmured.

  “I’m sorry chick. That sounds terrible.”

  Rion caught Kerry’s eye. “You have no idea.”

  She knew they wanted to know more, but she couldn’t bring herself to go into details. “I survived—clearly.” She gave them a small smile. “But, last week, a social worker from DCHS called. Told me about Beckett.”

  “What happened to her?” Shep asked.

  “Our dad and her mom were murdered.”

  “Shit,” Kerry breathed.

  “Jesus,” Shep was at a loss of what else to say.

  “Beckett was apparently in the house when it happened. They think she was the one to call the police.”

  “Poor kid,” Kerry looked towards the bedroom and rested her hand on her chin.

  “Yeah,” Rion agreed. “The doctors say it doesn’t look like she was harmed. At least not physically. But, clearly, there is some trauma.”

  “Well, who wouldn’t be traumatized experiencing something like that?” Shep finished his drink and grabbed the bottle to refill.

  “Is she seeing a therapist?” Kerry asked. Her lips were fruit punch red despite drinking through a straw.

  “Her first appointment is on Monday.”

  “Well that’s good,” he pulled Rion and Kerry’s glasses closer to top them off.

  “It is.” Rion rested her chin on top of her fist.

  “But?” Shep raised a brow.

  “But…” Rion couldn’t meet their eyes. “I don’t know if I’m qualified to take care of her. I think she needs someone with…more experience.”

  “Nonsense!” Kerry sat up straighter. “She’s safer with you than in some foster home.”

  “Not all foster homes are bad,” Rion argued weakly. She knew it was true. She had actually had a couple of good ones. A lot of ambivalent to acceptable ones. The others were hell.

  “It will just take some time. And therapy. And love,” Shep assured her.

  Love? Do I love Beckett? Rion felt terrible having to even consider the question.

  Kerry must have read her mind. She gave her a sly smile. “Right now, she probably seems like a bit of a…burden.” She chuckled conspiratorially. “I’ve been there. But, once you adjust and Beckett starts to recover, things will get easier.”

  “Right,” Shep agreed. “And, until then—and after—you’ve got me. And Kerry,” he looked to her for reassurance.

  “Of course,” Kerry agreed.

  Rion continued to stare at her drink. “Thanks,” her throat was dry and she could feel her face and neck grow red.

  “What about you?” Kerry nudged Shep. “What’s your story?”

  He sighed heavily. “My childhood, and family, are…mostly…normal,” he shrugged.

  Kerry narrowed her eyes. “Mostly?”

  “Well, they are very, very religious.”

  “Hah! I knew it!” Kerry cackled.

  Shep scowled. “How did you know it?”

  She tilted her head, appraising him. “Ah, you just have that…look. And manners.”

  “What does that mean?” Shep was starting to sound offended.

  “Oh, calm down. It wasn’t an insult.” Shep still scowled. “So,” Kerry continued. “You grew up totally vanilla?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he sounded pleased to be able to prove that his childhood wasn’t perfect.

  “Oh, do tell!” Kerry finished her drink and reached for the bottle of rum.

  “Well, I do have a lot of brothers and sisters. But, there were also a lot of kids in our…community.”

  “Holy shit! You were in a cult!” Kerry hooted.

  Rion worried she would wake Beckett up. At least she can’t set my cat on fire while we are awake, she grumbled silently. “Really?”

  “No! It wasn’t a cult…just a community.”

  Kerry laughed again. “Sounds like a cult to me.”

  Shep rolled his eyes at her and looked to Rion for help. “Why did you leave?” Rion asked him.

  “The people there weren’t dangerous. Or bad. They didn’t hurt anyone. But, they were…very strict. I didn’t like that. I also didn’t like that they tried to shelter us from everything. Music. Movies. The news. It was…stupid. I wanted to know things. Everything. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

  “They just let you leave?” Kerry asked.

  “Well, yeah. It’s not a prison.”

  “Do you stay in contact with your family?” Rion read between the lines.

  “Not really. People who leave aren’t shunned. But they are…outsiders. They aren’t trusted.”

  “Damn—wait! Were you a Scientologist?!” Kerry’s eyes grew big.

  “God! No! Nothing that bad. They were—are—called the Fundamental Disciples of Christ.”

  Kerry shrugged. “I guess, if you scratch around long enough—everyone has a pretty fucked up background.”

  ***

  By the time Kerry and Shep left, Rion was unsteady on her feet. She hadn’t intended on getting drunk again. But, she had to admit, the numbness was nice. But she worried she would sleep through Beckett trying to hurt Link again. She had hesitated telling her friends—now that is a strange new thing, she realized—about Beckett trying to hurt Link. She was ashamed that things were that bad. She knew Shep and Kerry wouldn’t judge her. But, she hated for them to know she was losing control. Whether they said they would help or not, there wasn’t really much they could do. This was her mess to figure out.

  She laid on the futon subconsciously fighting sleep while her body did its best to pass out. She began making a list of things they needed to talk to the therapist about. Granted, she wouldn’t be in the sessions with Beckett, but the therapist needed to know the situation. There were so many things going wrong in this kid’s life. Her parents were dead. She barely spoke to anyone. She was stuck with a stranger who had no idea how to raise a kid. She was acting out by trying to hurt a cat. She only watched news programs.

  She does enjoy video games though, Rion pointed out. That’s a normal kid thing. She felt a rush of gratitude towards Shep. Both he, and Kerry, had a lot more experience around kids than she did. The only childhood Rion knew was her own—and that one was less than pleasant. She jumped when a weight hit her feet. “Shit!” she whispered. “Link you just shaved off ten years of my life.” Her tiptoed onto her chest, stepping on her boob
s in the process. “I swear you do that on purpose” she groaned, but stroked his back.

  She must have drifted off to sleep because in the next instant she was jerked awake by a noise from the bedroom. She sat straight up and blinked into the dark. This was becoming a common enough occurrence that she didn’t worry it was an intruder anymore. But, she wasn’t sure it was real either. It could have been a dream. A metal clinking told her it was real. Worried about what she would find this time, she scrambled out of the bed and rushed to the bedroom without turning any lights on. Apprehension crawled over her skin.

  From the moonlit window, she could tell the closet door was open. Rion’s heart slammed in her chest as she noted the empty bed. “Beckett,” she gasped. Hisses and grunts were coming from the dark closet but that was the only sound in the entire house. Every sound was blocked by the blood rushing in her ears and the struggle coming from the closet. She stepped into the doorway and the breath was stolen from her lungs. “Beckett!” she snapped.

  The little girl was holding Link—his back to her chest—as she struggled to wrap long piece of cloth—a robe belt, Rion realized—around his neck. The other end was tied to the clothes rack. Link was struggling to claw or bite his way free. “Let go of him!” Rion snapped.

  Beckett turned towards her and Rion froze again. The smile on the kid’s face was eerie enough, but something was wrong with her eyes. They were on fire with hate…and something else. Glee, Rion realized. The kid’s entire face was twisted into pure evil glee. It was as unnerving, as if a doll had come to life. Becket snarled and Rion could feel every hair on her body stand on end. Finding her voice, she dropped to her knees and growled. “I said, let him go.”

  Finally, Beckett dropped the struggling cat and it bolted from the room. Fear and anger surged through Rion and seemed to push her out of her body. Everything was too much, too fast. She watched as she reached out and gripped Beckett by the shoulders. “What is wrong with you?” she roared through clenched teeth. She shook the girl’s shoulders, once, twice, three times. And on the third shake, reason returned. She needed to get the girl out of her hands or she would do something worse. Her arms felt like iron and her fingers claws, but she regained enough sense to push the girl away. Beckett stumbled backwards and landed in a pile of dirty clothes.

  Rion stared at her in shock, the rage melting as she sucked in a heavy breath. What have I done? She waited for Beck to start crying. Screaming. Anything. Instead, the kid laughed. It was a guttural chuckle in a little girl’s voice. She struggled to right herself and Rion was reminded of the eighties horror movie about a killer doll. Beckett didn’t move like a kid. She moved with a horrific calm and purpose. Rion couldn’t move, or speak, she was stunned. By her own behavior and at Beckett’s. Once the kid was sitting up, she crossed her legs and stared at the floor. And didn’t make a sound.

  As the seconds ticked by, everything grew still again. She let out a gush of air and flopped back onto her heels. She felt empty. Beckett had needed her and her response was to shake her. Beckett might not have even been awake. “Fuck,” she whispered. But what about her eyes? I’ve never seen someone look so cold and brutal before. Even the foster father who whipped her with a belt for forgetting to clean the bathroom didn’t look like he enjoyed it as much as Beckett did when trying to kill Link. Rion almost laughed at herself. Clearly, she had imagined it. She was in a panic and it is almost pitch black in here. A kid isn’t capable of that kind of villainy? Right? “Beckett?” The kid didn’t respond. “Beckett?” Rion tried again. “Let’s go back to bed.”

  She reached out to lift the kid off the floor, but as soon as she touched her the stillness exploded. Beckett began screaming and flailing. It wasn’t a scream of fear. It was rage. The kid’s teeth were bared and her eyes were burning again. White fire scorched her neck as Beckett tried to claw her face. Rion jerked her head back in time and the tiny, razor-like nails missed their target but got her throat instead. She tried to restrain the kid, but, even though she was small, she was strong. And she had the advantage of surprise.

  “Beckett!” Rion cried, wrestling with teeth, arms, fingernails, feet and legs all at once. Stars burst in her eyes when Beckett’s head slammed into her nose. Her vision took a second to return and by the time it did, Beckett had scrambled away into the corner of the closet. Rion touched her nose, expecting her fingers to come away covered in blood. But, they were clean. Her eyes watered, but she didn’t think her nose was broken.

  She watched Beckett for a moment. Can a night terror cause this? Wouldn’t she wake up by now? Rion had no idea—so she gave up. She knew fighting with the kid would only cause more damage. “Beckett…I’m…I’m just going to let you stay in here. I’m—I’m sorry. OK?”

  Rion backed out of the closet. That was so fucked up. She sat on the edge of the bed and rested her head in her hands. When Chambers finds out about this I’ll be lucky not to be in jail. But, would Beckett even remember this? Rion’s skin crawled. She felt like a monster. She had physically attacked a kid she was supposed to be caring for. But, a reasonable voice in her head began, the kid attacked a cat. And she attacked you. Rion knew that was shitty semantics, but she found some comfort in it anyway.

  Beckett was curled up on a stack of blankets. With nothing else that could be done, she had to assure herself Beck was fine for a while, so Rion left her there. In the living room she found Link under the futon. She laid on her belly and tried to coax him out. “Come on kitty!” she whispered. Link’s glowing yellow eyes flicked from the bedroom back to her. He licked his lips but didn’t budge. Rion laid on the floor for a moment with her head on her arms. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Finally, she stood up and lifted the futon into couch position. Link started to bolt but she caught him.

  Once she held him, he tucked himself against her body. His head on her neck and his body across her chest. She kissed him on the head and opened the front door. She felt like her heart was sinking into her stomach as she left her apartment. Her whole body felt like it was made of lead. Shep answered after the third knock. Clearly, he had been asleep, and Rion didn’t know if she was glad he had slept through Beckett’s screaming or not.

  “What’s going on?” The surprise of finding a half dressed Rion on his doorstep at three in the morning with her cat was waking him up quickly.

  “Beckett has been trying to hurt Link.”

  “Damn! Come in!”

  She hurried inside. Link was still scared, maybe more so now that he was outside his home and in a strange place. Rion looked around. His apartment looked less like a bachelor pad than she expected. There were family photos on the walls and even a cork board that looked like it was filled with souvenirs and mementos. The placed smelled like cologne and country apple candles. “I’m pretty sure she has tried to burn him before. And I just caught her trying to hang him.”

  “Holy shit!” He looked around as if he just realized she was in his apartment. “Sit down.”

  “I—I can’t. I left her in the closet.”

  “What?!”

  “I found them in the closet. That’s where she was trying to hang him. I—She—she attacked me after I stopped her.” Rion stomach curdled and she didn’t look Shep in the eyes. She just stroked Link’s head. “I think she was having a night terror. She might not have even been awake during any of it.”

  “Holy shit!” he said again.

  “Can you—can you take Link. For a little while? Just until I figure out what’s going on with Beckett.”

  “Are you sure? I mean…of course I will. I’m so sorry.”

  “Me too,” she said, putting Link down. He immediately ran to Shep’s couch and hid under it. The couch was worn plaid and probably as old as Shep was, but it looked comfortable. “Thank you. I’ll bring his litter box and food over in a minute.” She turned to leave but Shep’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.

  “It will get better.” He tried to pull her into a hug, but she stepped out of his grip.


  “I hope you’re right.”

  Six

  Rion barely slept the rest of the night. Even once the adrenaline passed, her mind wouldn’t stop racing long enough to fall into a restful sleep. When she did, she dreamed about the apartment being on fire, then about her teeth falling out, then the classic about being hired to do a job and not being given any training. “No interpretation needed for any of those,” she groaned, getting out of bed. Beckett’s escapades must have worn her out too. When Rion checked on her, she was stilled curled up in the closet.

  Rion sighed, she had warned the kid that if she tried to hurt the cat again she would take away the TV. But, could she punish her for something she did while sleeping? If Beckett wasn’t in control of her actions, Rion couldn’t hold her responsible. Right? She sat on the couch with a cup of coffee and tried to turn the TV on. The remote wasn’t on the coffee table. Even though she doubted it was tangled in the blankets, she looked anyway. When it wasn’t there, she began searching all over the living room. Even the kitchen. “What the hell?” she muttered. First my notebook—now this. As her brain tried to figure out how two things could be lost in a tiny apartment, the hair on her arms stood on end.

  She had been crawling around on the floor looking under the entertainment center but she straightened up and slowly slid onto her butt. Did Beckett do something with the remote? She had warned the kid if she tried to hurt the cat again, she would take the TV away. Surely not…she tried to tell herself. Beckett was having a night terror. People having night terrors don’t plan their actions and try to prevent future repercussions, do they? Rion shivered even though the apartment wasn’t cold.

  She reached up and pushed the power button on the TV. Last night, the last channel the TV had been on was the auxiliary channel so they could play the Wii. But now, it was back on the twenty-four-hour news channel. The few sips of coffee she’d had curdled in her stomach. Granted, the channels could still be changed on the TV itself, but did Beckett know that? Rion buried her face in her hands. She felt like the room was spinning. If the kid wasn’t asleep, then that look of evil-glee was real. Her attacking Link and Rion were real. They weren’t a part of a nightmare resulting from extreme stress and trauma.