Something Happened

by Brandy Isaacs

  "Attic?" Kerry asked.

  "It has to be."

  "Beckett?"

  "But...how?" Rion couldn't move. She stood, frozen, staring down the hallway. Even the most logical scenario was terrifying. There could be a strange person squatting in the attic. It could be something not human. She couldn't even be embarrassed at the thought. Murders and some kind of occult symbols? Reality was already being stretched. It was bound to break at some point. When Kerry's fingernails dug so far into her arm that they became painful, she winced and pulled away.

  More thumps caused them to jump again. This time in they raced back in the direction from which they came. "We should call the police?" Kerry's voice was small and quivered.

  "What if it’s just Beckett?"

  "How could she have gotten in past you?" They turned in circles.

  "I don't know. Did you see any other doors outside?"

  "No. But I wasn't looking for any."

  A louder thump, on the ground level of the house, finally got Rion moving again. "Shit!" she hissed, and pulled away from Kerry. "Wait here."

  "Fuck that!" Kerry hurried after her.

  The first room on the right, she knew, was Frank and Lavinia Webster's. It was also where Frank's body had been found. Rion only hesitated for a moment before opening the door. The curtains had been drawn, creating deep shadows throughout the room. The sickly-sweet smell of decay, accented by industrial cleaning solutions, hit her in the face and she covered her nose with her hand. As her eyes adjusted to the light, her blood turned cold. A bent and twisted figured stared at her from the opposite side of the bed. She stood in the doorway, blinking, frozen in terror and disbelief.

  Rion was unable to move. Her body had shut down and she couldn't draw in a breath. Kerry, slightly taller, must have seen the same thing. A low keening sound eeked against Rion's ear. She tried to make herself move, to run, to scream, to do anything. But her body refused to cooperate. The only thing that kept her from totally losing her mind, was the knowledge that Beckett might be somewhere in the house.

  The figure's head was too large for its body and its back was curved like an old woman's. The creature didn't move or make a sound and Rion's mind tried to make sense of what she was seeing. There had to be some logical explanation. But, she had been in this room. There wasn't anything in between the bed and the closet that could be misinterpreted as a monster. Kerry was still making a desperate squeaking sound over Rion's shoulder and the sound grated against her nerves and she wanted to lash out.

  Finally, it was a giggle that broke her terror-induced shock. With numb fingers, Rion fumbled for the light switch. The flash from the bulb caused yellow and brown splotches across her vision. As they cleared, Beckett came into view. She stood across the bed with a wide, toothy grin. Rion continued to stare at the space where the demonic figure had crouched just moments before. Her brain took too long to catch up to her eyes. The monster was Beckett? Or Beckett was the monster? She finally took a deep, shuddering breath.

  "Beckett?" The little girl giggled so hard she tilted her head back. "What are you doing?"

  "I needed to get something," her tone was light, but her eyes challenging.

  "What did you need to get?" Rion hated that she had to question her sister like this. It was only a short time ago that she would have begged for Beckett to be more engaged. She would have loved it, if the first time they were here, Beckett had left the house with a cart full of toys and clothes of her choosing. But, Rion had no idea what this Beckett would consider important enough to bring home. A bag of animal bones? She took a deep breath. "I need to see it."

  Beckett narrowed her eyes, but bent over. Rion held her breath until the kid only held up a stuffed teddy bear. She was so caught off guard that a small "oh!" slipped through her lips. "Well..." She watched her sister for a moment, fighting the feeling that this was a trap or trick. "That's all?'

  "Yes."

  Rion glanced at Kerry over her shoulder. The other woman was pale and breathless, but she shrugged.

  "OK. Can I see it?" Rion didn't step into the room, but hoped, instead, that Beckett would come to her.

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "It's mine."

  It's normal for kids to be jealous about their things. Some tiny, hopeful voice tried to ease her doubt. Maybe she's afraid I'll take it from her? "Fine," she finally sighed. "Were you in the attic? Is there an attic?"

  The little girl answered simply. "Yes."

  "Yes there is an attic? Or yes, you were in it?"

  "Both."

  "Why?"

  Beckett held up the bear and gave her a look that clearly said she thought Rion was stupid. "Why was your bear—if it's so important--in the attic?"

  The kid was quiet for a moment. "Hiding."

  "From what?"

  Beckett took a while to answer again. "Everything."

  “What else is up there?" Beckett shrugged. She glanced at the closet behind the kid. "How did you get up there?"

  "There's a ladder."

  Rion was annoyed by the answer because she could hear the tone behind it. There might have been a ladder—but the string was usually high up. Probably to prevent kids from being able to get in the attic. In the shadows of the closet she would make out a white object that appeared to be suspended on a string. It hung perfectly still. Rion swallowed the sour taste that coated her tongue. She started to question Beckett more, but changed her mind. She didn't know if she wanted to know the answers. Not now. Not when she felt like her legs were going to collapse. "Fine. Let's get out of here."

  "You don't have to tell me twice," Kerry spun on her heel and headed towards the front door.

  Rion watched Beckett until she finally crossed the bedroom and hurried out the door. She wasn't in a rush to leave, she just hurried past Rion so she couldn't touch her. That was clear from her body language. As she passed, she held the bear tighter against her body. Rion hoped, with every fiber of her being, that the bear was just a bear. What else could it be? She followed Beckett into the living room but paused. Kerry was already on the porch and the light from the door illuminated Beckett. "Beckett?" The kid turned to look at her but didn't speak. "What do the symbols on the floor mean?'

  The kid glanced towards the kitchen area and smiled a small smile. "Symbols?"

  Rion ignored the fact that Beckett clearly knew what she was talking about. She didn't have to tell her where the symbols were. She looked at them without any hesitation. "Yes."

  Beckett turned towards her, smile still twisting her lips. "Daddy drew them."

  "Why?"

  Beckett giggled again and Rion clenched her fists to stop herself from yelling at the kid to stop making that sound. "Do you like them?"

  "What's to like? They don't make any sense."

  Beckett watched her for a long while. "OK."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Not yet."

  "What's that mean?"

  In response, Beckett only smiled and skipped out of the house with her bear under her arm.

  ***

  The train was nearly empty on the way home. Beckett sat in a seat facing sideways while Kerry and Rion sat to her side, facing her so they could keep an eye on her. She had the bear, beige and well-worn, sitting on her knees. She stared into the stuffed animals eyes as if she was waiting for it to start speaking. Everyone so often, she smiled. Just normal kid games, Rion tried to convince herself.

  "What the hell was that?" Kerry whispered, causing Rion to jump.

  "You saw it too, right?" Rion knew she didn't need to actually ask, but she felt the need to confirm it anyway.

  "I saw...something."

  "It-it looked like some kind of twisted creature...right?"

  "Yeah."

  Rion shuddered involuntarily. Even though both she and Kerry were speaking quietly, she noticed Beckett's dark eyes slide towards them. Her head didn't move but she was clearly doing her best to listen in. "Let's talk about this later." Kerry
caught on and nodded.

  Rion had never been a wild child or teenager. Having a mother who was wild enough for three people did wonders to scare a kid straight. But, when she was fourteen, she had gone through a phase. It was the last time she was back home with her mom. Annie had gone for another court ordered rehab stint and was on her best behavior. At the time, they were living in a one-bedroom apartment on the south side of Chicago.

  For the first time that Rion could remember, her mother had a job. She had managed to get hired working at a fast food restaurant near the building where they lived. Apparently, her mom had been feeling guilty because she had been going overboard trying to be a mom. She made them food every night. It was mostly macaroni and cheese and boxed hamburger meals, but she was, at least, making an effort. Rion, from the day the social worker dropped her off, watched her mother with suspicion and contempt.

  Rion was waiting for her mom to mess up again. Any time she passed by, she would take a deep breath, searching for the smell of booze or other chemicals. Every time Annie spoke to her, even with a careful, neutral toned voice, Rion would respond with a curled lip and side-eye. Fourteen years of disappointment, fear, anger, and contempt made it hard to forget. And forgiveness was something she had given up on a long time ago. As far as she was concerned, Annie was a ticking time bomb.

  Rion didn't even bother unpacking her bag. Instead, she stored it, with all her clean clothes, under the day bed where she slept in the living room. The dirty clothes, she tossed into the corner. If for no other reason than it annoyed Annie. One of the conditions of her regaining custody was keeping a clean house. The rat and roach infested previous homes were just one of the many reasons she had lost custody before.

  Annie worked the late shift, which meant Rion had to stay by herself from six in the evening until two in the morning. For the first couple of weeks, she went to bed as she was told. But, one evening she refused to eat the processed cheesey-noodle meal her mom had made. It wasn't that it tasted bad—on the contrary, Rion actually found it surprisingly edible. It had been the first meal that Annie had made without a recipe and was rather proud of herself. The pride that her mother showed cut a seam into Rion's heart. And the resentment that had been building up for most of her life came flooding out.

  She hated seeing her mother dancing around the kitchen waving the big spoon she stirred the pan with. Annie might have forgotten all the bad things that had happened, but Rion hadn’t. Annie shook and rolled her hips in perfect, sensual time, with the music that played from the neighbor's stereo. Rion watched her gyrating back for several minutes before her hand, as if acting on its own, grabbed the edge of her bowl, and, like throwing a frisbee, flung the dish onto the floor. The crash caused Annie to squeal and spin so fast she bumped the hot pan and yelped in pain and surprise.

  "What the fuck?!" Annie yelled. Her nostrils flared and the whites of her eyes gleamed.

  There she is, Rion had thought. "This tastes like shit," she sneered. Annie's hands trembled, and Rion waited. Any moment, the burning hand with jagged nails would strike. Cracking against her cheek. Then Rion would be ready. She would fight back this time. This time she was big enough to stand up to her mom. She got her height from her father—apparently—and she had recently hit a growth spurt. She was almost as tall as her mom now.

  But, Annie didn't hit Rion. Instead, she lowered her hands, looked at the mess on the floor, took three deep breaths, and tossed the spoon into the sink. "Have this cleaned up by the time I get home." She shuffled out of the kitchen area and into the bedroom. Rion stared after her with an anger that raged like a broken power line. It whipped through her body and she stood up so fast her chair fell over. She shoved the tiny table, sending it sliding through the ruined dinner.

  She didn't say a word to her mother before she slammed out of the apartment and the building. She spent the night wandering the streets and department stores until she was sure that her mom was home from work and asleep. She didn't bother worrying about the police, she knew her Annie would never call them. When she finally got home, the mess was clean and her mom's bedroom door was closed.

  For the next several days, she left the house when she knew Annie was home and awake. At the end of the third day, she came home at seven-thirty, expecting the apartment to be empty, only to find her mom waiting with the social worker. Her mother wouldn't look at her. Instead she stared at the floor.

  "Hi Rion," said Joan, the case worker who had looked after her since she was a child.

  Instead of fear or anger, Rion felt guilt. She realized then how much trouble she could have caused her mom. She tried to think of a good excuse why she was out alone at this time during the winter. She couldn't say her mom had sent her to the store, she didn't have any purchases. She could say she was at a friend's house. But, what story did her mom give Joan? What if their stories didn't match? She opened her mouth to try to smooth things over, but before she could speak, Joan continued.

  "Your mom called me because she's worried about you." Rion felt the world fall away from her as she turned to her mom, who still wouldn't look up from the floor. "She really wanted this to work." Rion's heart opened again, but this time it just bled. "But, she has come to realize that she isn't...equipped to care for you. She just wants the best for you. And her own sobriety."

  Rion met Joan's eyes and she saw the disappointment the woman felt for her. She could even see a little anger that hardened the edge of her eyes. She could feel the bitter tears pressing against the back of her throat. To stop from crying, she laughed. Without argument, she retrieved her bag, still packed, from under the bed.

  "I have a nice family that is ready to take you in. The Polowski's. I think you'll like it there," Joan told her.

  ***

  Rion's skin felt like it was holding onto a hollow space where her body was supposed to be. She had known it would be hard to care for her sister, but she hadn't realized just how hard. Before bringing Beckett home, she had worried that she wouldn't be able to make the right decisions. What food to cook? What to let her watch on TV? She had been prepared for the kid to be mentally damaged by what she had been through. That was scary enough. But, now, she was worried that something was...physically? Spiritually? Wrong with her sister. That wasn't something she could even begin to understand how to help.

  Rion had no idea where to begin to help Beckett, but she knew she would. There was no way she was going to give up on her sister. She knew what that felt like—and that wasn't an option. Even if the kid was faking it—and by now, she was sure she wasn’t. Rion turned to Kerry. "You really don't have to do this," she whispered.

  Kerry scowled at her. "We've already been through this."

  "But...that was...before."

  Kerry shrugged. "This is the weirdest thing I've ever been through. I'm in. I need to see where this goes."

  "Why?"

  "Whatever is happening to Beckett...what's to say it couldn't happen to me? Or one of my siblings. Plus, she's just a kid. I can't just...not help."

  "I'm just saying..." Rion thought for a moment. "I'm just saying, I would understand if you didn't want any part of this. I wouldn't hold it against you."

  "I'm here for you and Beckett."

  "Thank you,” Rion fought the tears that pressed against the back of her eyes.

  They both watched Beckett as she played with the bear. She didn't talk to it, or make it talk, like most other kids would do. Instead, she stared at it, sometimes shifting it ever so slightly. As if she was examining another aspect of it. Several times, she smiled as if she were pleased with what she saw.

  "What are we going to do?" Kerry asked.

  Rion was silent for a while. "She needs help. But, I don't think Jennifer is the kind of help she needs."

  "Clearly."

  "I mean, we didn't both hallucinate that thing in the bedroom?"

  "Nope."

  Rion took a deep breath. Her breathing was shallow, and it was taking an effort for her to get enoug
h oxygen. "What is going on? How is this real?"

  "I told you before, I think there are plenty of things in the world, or universe, or in other worlds, that we don't understand," Kerry whispered.

  "But, why haven't we—I—seen anything before?"

  "How do you know you haven't and just didn't know what you were seeing?"

  "Good point," Rion conceded, thoughtfully.

  "And," Kerry continued on, picking up steam. "You have no idea what your dad and his wife were up to."

  Rion nodded. "When Rand—the detective—was asking me questions, he asked about my dad's hobbies. If he was into any weird stuff?"

  "Was he?"

  "The hell if I know. I barely remember the man."

  "I wish you knew someone who knew him."

  "I would have said the same, but now, I don't know. They could be dangerous."

  "You're right," Kerry eventually agreed.

  Before they could continue their conversation, they arrived at their stop. Once again they followed Beckett as she hurried ahead of them. It wasn't like she was trying to get away from them. Instead, she walked as if she barely knew they were with her. On her own—without the insecurity that most kids would have. Her head was held high and the bear was tucked under her arm. At the building, she waited for Kerry and Rion to unlock the door.

  At the top of the stairs, Shep was waiting on them. "About time!"

  "Hi?" Rion unlocked the apartment and Beckett hurried inside without greeting him.

  "What happened? What's going on?" He followed the two women inside.

  "Beckett," Rion put Shep off for a moment. "Stay in your room." The kid glanced over her shoulder and shrugged. She joined the other two at the counter. "I need a drink." Guilt nagged at her—she was going to turn into her mother if she kept resorting to alcohol to deal with her stress.

  Kerry got up and began filling glasses with the rest of the rum and coke while Rion ordered a pizza. While they drank and waited on the food, they both filled Shep in on the day’s events.

  "I thought she seemed...unusually normal today. The way she's acting I mean."

  Rion kept her voice low. "Yeah. It's like she knows she has to be normal. Well, I guess she does. I told her—more or less—that if people didn't think she was OK, the social worker would take her away."