by Kylie Brant
“What are you doing? Pouting?”
Eryn scrambled off the bed when Henry wandered in the room. Mama said not to listen to him. Not to trust him. She watched him carefully as he went through her room, casually touching her things as if it were okay. Eryn never went in his room and got into his stuff. She never would. She wanted to stay as far away from Henry as possible.
“You’re not supposed to be in here.” Mama had said so. Eryn didn’t know if he’d gotten in trouble for the ice cream bar she’d eaten, but if he had, he’d be mad. He didn’t seem to be, but she couldn’t tell with him.
“Yeah, well, I’m not supposed to be home, out of school, either, but here I am.” He turned and grinned at her. “Got suspended. That’s what happens in middle school if you get caught smoking. Think you’ll ever get to high school, or are you going to stay home and pretend to be homeschooled for the rest of your life?”
She shrugged. Eryn didn’t care if she ever went back to school. “They have dumb rules there.”
He laughed loudly. “No doubt.” He trailed a hand over her dresser. Picked up a snow globe from it and shook it while he crossed to the window. Hooking a finger in the curtains, he pulled them all the way back. You might think Henry was okay if you didn’t know him. He had a nice face. But his eyes were mean sometimes. And he was mean a lot of the time.
“I caught a mermaid in the pond yesterday. Did your mama tell you?”
For a moment, Eryn forgot what a liar he was. “You did?”
He looked back at her. “Yeah. It’s a baby one. My dad wanted me to let her go, and your mama wanted to paint her. I said I released her, but she’s tied up at the end of the dock.”
She sat on the edge of the bed and watched him. Henry made things up, like when he told her he’d take her on a boat ride and then locked her in the boathouse. The boathouse wasn’t scary. Not like the stable. She’d climbed in the boat and pretended to drive it until he’d come and let her out. Mary Jane had said she didn’t know what got into the boy.
But Eryn thought maybe he had an Uncle Arlo and Mr. Timmons fighting in his head too.
“I don’t believe you.”
He shrugged. “I don’t care. Maybe your mama will let you come watch when she paints the mermaid. Or maybe I’ll go down to the pond tonight and cut her loose.” He tossed the snow globe to her as he left the room. It bounced on the bed beside her. Eryn listened for the sound of footsteps leaving. Sometimes he waited outside her doorway and scared her when she came out.
When she was sure he’d gone, she got off the bed and ran to the window. She could see the boathouse from here, and the dock to the side of it. Henry was probably lying. Eryn had seen The Little Mermaid, but she knew mermaids weren’t real because the movie had been a cartoon. She wondered now if maybe there were other movies that showed real mermaids.
She watched for a long time, but Henry didn’t go down to the dock. Eryn wasn’t supposed to, either, but if Mama had cared about her going to the pond, she should have stayed home. Eryn poked her head out of her room and looked down the hallway. When she didn’t see anyone, she snuck into Mama’s bedroom. It had those double windows Mama painted in front of. On nice nights, she opened them to let the breeze in. Eryn knew, because sometimes she crept in there when Mama was asleep.
She pushed one of the windows open, easy-peasy, and jumped down to the ground. Mary Jane or Uncle Bill wouldn’t know a thing, because they wouldn’t hear a door close.
Eryn skipped across the lawn. It was a long, long way to the pond. She hurried by the stable without looking at it. Then past the line of crepe myrtles that hadn’t bloomed yet. The pond was even farther. Eryn was out of breath by the time she got to it. She looked over her shoulder but couldn’t see Henry. She smiled and ran out onto the dock.
The boards creaked beneath her tennis shoes. There was a rope tied to one of the posts at the end.
You should go back. You’re not supposed to be here. Mr. Timmons’ voice was stern, the way Uncle Bill’s got when he was mad at her. But she wasn’t hurting anyone. No one even had to know she’d left the house. Eryn got down on her belly and stared into the pond. But it wasn’t pretty and clear like Ariel’s ocean. The water was cloudy and green. It was hard to see through, no matter how hard she looked.
She found the rope tied around the post and tried to pull on it. But whatever was in the water was too heavy. Eryn stopped tugging and sat on her haunches, staring into the pond. Maybe there was a mermaid down there!
“Do you see her?”
She jumped up and whirled around. Where had Henry come from? Eryn looked in both directions wildly. Mr. Timmons was right. She shouldn’t have come.
“Uh-huh.” She edged her way by him. There was no other way to run home without having to walk by Henry on the dock. To her shock, he let her pass and then continued toward the rope tied around the post, swinging a pail in his hand.
“I’m going to feed her. She’ll eat minnows, and I’ve got some in this bucket.” Eryn looked at the expanse of spring grass and then back at her cousin. And her feet made the decision for her. Slowly, she retraced her steps as Henry got down on his stomach, much the way she had earlier. He held the bucket below the dock at water level, and he was taking something out of it. Dropping it into the pond.
“You have to get down on your belly to see her.” Henry’s voice startled her a little. He must have heard her on the dock coming closer. “I’m going to toss in another minnow. Get down close to the edge if you want to watch her eat it.”
Caution forgotten, Eryn crouched down. And then his hand came up lickety-split and pushed hard at her back. And she toppled headfirst into those dark-green depths.
She swallowed a bunch of water when she went in. And when her head popped up, she was choking, the icy water burning her throat and lungs. Henry was laughing and laughing. Eryn could feel herself begin to sink again and started to panic. But she could swim. A little. She dog-paddled until she could grasp the edge of the dock. “You’re a . . . big . . . fat jerk!”
He stepped on her fingers and smiled when she yanked them away. “It’s not nice to call people names, Eryn. Didn’t those voices in your head ever tell you that?”
She tried to grab the dock in another area, and he stepped on her fingers again. And then again. Finally, she wrapped her arms around one of the fat posts. It was slippery with yucky green stuff.
“You’re going to get in trouble.” Her teeth were chattering so hard she could hardly get the words out. “Way more trouble than you got in for smoking. Uncle Bill will send you to the pep school he’s always talking about.”
“It’s prep school, you little freak.” His smile was nasty. “Is the water warm? You look like you’re enjoying it.”
Maybe she could just swim a little to the next pole, and then the next until she got to the grass again. Shivers shook her body as she counted, and her stomach dropped. Ten poles to the shore. Less to where it got shallow. Her hands slipped on the slimy post she clung to, and she adjusted them. Held tighter.
“When Mama asks how I got wet, I’m going to tell her.”
He stared at her for a moment. “Okay.” His sudden change of heart made her wary. He stuck a hand down to her. “I’ll help you out of the water. C’mon.”
Eryn stared at him. She didn’t trust him. Why would she? But she was getting really, really cold. It was harder to hold on. And she didn’t want to spend another minute in the pond. She stretched out a hand. He grasped it and pulled her up onto the dock. Water streaming off her, Eryn hugged herself and rubbed her arms, trying to get warm. Henry grabbed her by the back of the neck and hauled her close.
“You slipped and fell in. Got it? You slipped, and I helped you out of the water. If you tell your mama any different, I’ll do a lot worse to you. Do you want to get locked in the stable again?”
Cold, damp walls closing in around her. Smells hurting her nose and making her eyes tear. And a door that didn’t open except by someone you didn’t wa
nt inside there with you. It’s chilly in here, isn’t it? But I can keep you warm . . .
“No,” she shouted hoarsely, her body quaking, her heart galloping. “No! No!”
“Shut up,” he hissed. Henry pushed her in front of him and then, with a hand to her back, kept her moving up the dock, back toward the house. “Better keep your mouth shut, then. You fell in the pond and I helped you out. It’s not like you didn’t deserve it.” His hand left her back then and grabbed her neck, under her wet hair. His fingers squeezed. “Consider it payback for trying to frame me for stealing the ice cream. And for what you did to Whiskers.”
Eryn: Now
“I have to go to school today,” Jaxson told Eryn glumly when she went into the kitchen. His backpack was on the floor next to the table. His coat hung on the back of his chair. “And because of my foot, I can’t go to recess or PE, which really sucks. What’s the point of school without recess?”
“Staying in from recess will give you time to finish the assignments you missed yesterday,” said Mary Jane tartly, moving efficiently as she unloaded the dishwasher and put dishes away. “Learning is the whole point of school, not running around outside like wild Indians.”
Jaxson rolled his eyes, and Eryn nearly laughed out loud. He was the third generation of Pullmans to have a similar reaction to the woman. “It was fun staying home yesterday and watching TV and playing video games.” His face brightened. “I beat you pretty bad in Minecraft.”
“Well, considering I’d never played before you should have beaten me worse.” Eryn picked up a plate and trailed over to the covered pan on the stove. French toast. Heavenly. Sitting at the table, she watched Jaxson rub a piece through a pool of syrup and lift the bite, dripping, to his lips.
“You’ll only get better if you keep practicing.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Mary Jane never paused in her task. “Table manners aren’t just for company.”
“I guess I have to continue playing with you to get the necessary practice, huh?” Eryn was onto the kid. He’d roped her into competing with him yesterday and before she knew it, two hours had slipped by.
“Life rewards those who work hard at it,” he said solemnly.
Recognizing the words she’d heard many times from Mary Jane, she laughed, earning them both a dark look from the woman. The dishwasher door slammed shut with a bit more emphasis than necessary. “You’d be wise to apply those words to your schoolwork and your chores rather than video games.”
Jaxson gave Eryn a conspiratorial smile, and something warmed inside her. Before she’d returned home she probably hadn’t exchanged more than a dozen words with the boy. But he was turning out to be an unexpected bright spot in the home.
“Eryn, I’ll be driving you to Asheville to your doctor’s appointment, looks like.” Mary Jane’s tone was dour. “Everyone else is too busy doing who-knows-what. Gives us a chance for you to help me shop, though, like we talked about. You’d better see your uncle about taking some money along if there’s anything you’re wanting to pick up.”
The thought of talking to her uncle about money again had Eryn’s stomach tightening. She had a sudden memory of yesterday’s effigy across the road. What would they find when they left the property today? Trepidation rose. A part of her wanted to stay away from windows and hibernate in her room with her sketches and paints.
Rosalyn bustled into the room, buttoning a pretty pink wool coat and pulling on matching gloves. “Jaxson Beauregard Pullman, you’d better be done eating because it’s time for school.”
Eryn cut her eyes at the boy, who had a piece of French toast on his fork and was swooping it in loop-de-loops before dive-bombing into the copious syrup again. “I like riding the bus better anyway.”
“Until your ankle is healed I don’t want you going up and down the bus steps and making your way through a crowded aisle to your seat.” She stopped long enough to send Eryn a strained smile. “Your uncle wants to see you before you and Mary Jane leave.”
All earlier remnants of humor fled. Arrangements for Eryn’s appointment had apparently been discussed with every adult in the place before being shared with her. The realization made her feel not much older than Jaxson. The sensation would likely continue until she acquired more independence. She picked up another piece of toast and chewed slowly. Found it impossible to swallow.
“Oh, and Mary Jane?” Rosalyn bent to help Jaxson zip his coat. “Please set another place for dinner this evening. William says Henry will be eating with us. Maybe you can shop today for something special for the meal.” She rose and bustled the boy out the kitchen door.
The news ruined her appetite. Henry. She hadn’t seen or talked to her cousin in years. He was another part of her childhood she tried very hard not to think about. As Eryn got up to rinse her dishes, Mary Jane said, “Be ready to leave in thirty minutes.”
“Okay.” The appointment would put some limitations on the upcoming conversation with her uncle. And Eryn was all right with that.
But when she walked into Uncle Bill’s office, he was donning an expensive-looking trench coat over his suit. Looking up at her arrival, he said, “Good. You’re here. I’m headed out to a board meeting for Pullman Properties. Mary Jane mentioned you were going shopping after your appointment.” He gave her a strained smile as he took out his wallet. “Hopefully, you’ll get farther than the grocery store.” Taking some bills out, he rounded the desk to press them into her hand. “Maybe the two of you can even have lunch. Make a day of it.”
Eryn looked uncomprehendingly at the cash she held. Five hundred dollars. She’d never seen so much money at once in her life. She’d never held over a hundred dollars . . . ever. “Is this my allowance?”
“No, of course not.” But a dull flush rose to his cheeks. “We haven’t discussed an amount for your monthly stipend yet. We’ll do so later when we have time to analyze your budgetary needs. I can have our lawyer draft an agreement, if you like. Later on, perhaps you’ll want to consider allowing me to remain in control of your share of the Pullman trust, while getting regular payments from it.”
The bills felt crisp and foreign in her fingers. But his last statement had a niggle of concern rippling through her. “Shouldn’t I have a meeting with the lawyer first so he can explain the trust to me?”
“Eryn,” Uncle Bill said chidingly, “I can do that.” He searched in his pockets for gloves. “I have to go. Enjoy your outing, but dress warmly. Temperatures dropped overnight.”
She stared at him then. The black coat he wore over his suit had her blurting, “Maybe I’ll buy a warmer coat. Maybe a parka like yours.”
He sent her an odd look as he pulled on his gloves. “It would certainly be warm. I don’t wear mine much, but it comes in handy during those winter cold snaps.” He walked out of the room, leaving Eryn to stare after him. It’d been chilly two nights ago but certainly not wintry. But maybe that’s not why he’d worn the parka. The oversize hood had concealed his face.
A thought struck her then, one she should have considered before. She and Jaxson had seen a figure wearing the coat. But there was really no way to be sure who the person was.
“How are you feeling about the transition home after the first few days?”
“Fine.”
Dr. Ashland’s tone was friendly, but her gaze was knowing. “That’s the fourth ‘fine’ I’ve gotten from you. Let me rephrase. How are you filling your days since getting back home? What have the stressors been?”
Eryn watched the doctor impassively from a chair beside her. They sat in a cozy little grouping, two armchairs arranged near each other in front of the picture window in her office. She shrugged. “I paint and draw. My room is nice, but small. I’ve asked my uncle about turning another into a studio, but . . .” She paused to recall the conversation exactly. “He didn’t seem to approve.”
“Why do you think that is?”
Eryn stifled a mental sigh. She liked the doctor better than she had Dr.
Steigel. But therapy was therapy. She tired of the endless questions. The constant reflection. “He seems to be very concerned about money.”
The doctor nodded and smoothed a crease from her pant leg. “Since your uncle is an accountant, I suppose that’s to be expected.”
Surprise filtered in. Her uncle was an accountant? It was odd the psychiatrist was aware of the fact and Eryn had had no clue. It was yet another reminder of how little she knew about her own family. How much she’d missed by spending her formative years locked away.
“When will my transition time be up?” She’d mentally practiced this conversation during the near-silent ride here with Mary Jane. It had occurred to her the doctor might be able to provide some answers to help her fit together the bits Uncle Bill had revealed about the trust.
“Well, of course that depends on many different factors,” Dr. Ashland started.
“But in summary . . .”
Her lips firmed at Eryn’s prodding. “Overall, a ninety-day adjustment period is what we’ll use to evaluate the success of your transition before making our final recommendation to the state regarding your mental health. Why do you ask?”
Perhaps she should have found the doctor’s words ominous, but she preferred knowing what she was dealing with. The thought of spending more time at Rolling Acres didn’t bother her particularly. Imagining another failed transition did. A thin trickle of unease threaded down her spine just thinking of a return of the paranoia, dark moods, and bursts of mania.
A return of the voices.
“I was just wondering. My uncle suggested I give him permission to continue to control my share of the family trust. I’m thinking I should wait before making such a big decision.”
Dr. Ashland frowned slightly. “Because it would be a stressor for you?”
“I’m not ready to agree to anything right now.” She couldn’t put her finger on the source of the unease Uncle Bill’s suggestion had created in her. Eryn still felt like all she had were crumbs of information and until she knew more, she was unwilling to commit to something she didn’t fully understand. She said as much, adding, “That’s part of being an adult, right? Gathering all the facts before making an informed decision?”
