Disconnected (10 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Two hours later and Aunt Rachel still isn't home. Where is she?

I have paced around this house numerous times now—going upstairs and then down again, and checking out all the windows to see if Aunt Rachel's come home, but no. She hasn't. Instead I am utterly alone, scared that I am running out of time. I think about what just happened to Grandpa George. Never had I thought this would happen. I mean I know he is older and in his seventies now, but he is still young to me. I am worrying uncontrollably when finally I hear a car pull up in the driveway.

I race to the back door and head outside and into the driveway to where Aunt Rachel is just getting out of her car.

“So is he okay? Did you find out what happened?” I ask.

“No,” she says in a curt tone. “I have a lot of work to do and don't have time to spend at the hospital.” Doesn't have time? What's the matter with her? This is her father for Christ's sake.
Maybe she wants him to die.
And for a split second, after Amelia says that, I'm in shock. I don't know if the shock is from Amelia thinking it, or that maybe she is onto something. Maybe she is right. Who knows, maybe Aunt Rachel wants Grandpa George gone so she won't have to take care of him anymore, or perhaps all she cares about is his money. After all, Grandpa George always said that when he dies, I'll be rich. And Aunt Rachel is next in line to take care of me.

As I ramble on and on about how worried I am, she cuts me off and says, “Why don't you get out for a while? There's nothing we can do right now. Besides, it would be good for you to get out and be with friends.”

I feel like I am about to explode. I can't believe she is saying all this. I can't believe she doesn't care about him. But after hearing that, I want to go, to get away from her.

As we walk to the house, she turns to me and hands me the keys. “Here, you can take the Saturn.”

Boy oh, boy, she really wants you to leave, Milly.
I can't believe she is letting me drive one of her cars. And Amelia isn't making things any better, either, so I snatch the keys and head back outside in a fit of disgust.

“Fine,” I say out loud as I walk to the Saturn. If she wants me gone, then I'm gone.

After I slide inside the car and slam the door shut, I reach in my pocket, take out my phone and dial Blake. We spoke earlier about what transpired. He said not to worry about calling the date off. But now as I call him again, he's not around. Damn! He must have made other plans already.

I start up the engine, and can't believe who I am thinking of right now—Beth. Of all the crummy people in the world, I think of calling her. I want to and I don't. I need someone to talk to—anyone, someone? But I can't connect with a soul. Aunt Rachel herself doesn't even want to talk to me. Why? When it's so important that I do?

I keep checking to see if Aunt Rachel will come out of the house and ask why I've been sitting here so long, but that doesn't happen.

Again I think of Beth. Still not sure that I can trust her with anything, I open my phone up and decide to call her anyway. Damn! Another one that just goes to voice mail. I feel like everyone's avoiding my calls. It feels hopeless. Even Amelia is silent again. Partly due to her being so afraid, I know. She's making my heart flutter inside my chest like a butterfly on speed. It just about cracks my ribs.

Even though Beth's phone goes to voice mail, I still leave a message. I think it's my third one in an hour, yet I haven't moved. I just don't know where else to go. I need to be with someone.

Again I reach for my phone as if it's a lifeline, but I just stare at it, knowing I have no one else to call. I notice the little voice mail symbol again. God! I can't believe I totally forgot again! Why am I pushing this so far out of my mind? I have yet to listen to that phone message, yet I can't seem to bring myself to hear it. I'm nervous and I don't know why. Amelia is telling me I'll be sorry if I listen to the message. She says it's nothing but bad news. She's spiraling into a deep depression, so much so that I can feel my thoughts getting heavy. But I try to push her thoughts aside and will myself to hear it. Whatever it is, I want to be able to handle it. I only have myself to rely on now. I need to stay strong.

I take my phone out of my pocket, open it, and press the button to hear the message. For a second or two, nothing. Then a man's voice says, “Amelia, this is Keith. I really don't want to communicate this way, but if it's what you want, okay. So the answer to your question is yes, it's true, your parents didn't die in a car accident. Now please call me.”

I listen to the message another three or four times.

My thoughts are feverishly zipping around me. Who is this person? I can't believe what he's saying about my parents, and yet I have this idea that what he says is true, and I've always known it. But I can't remember. And Amelia
has
been talking behind my back. Why is everyone keeping secrets from me? All this confusion overwhelms me with a wind-whirl of dread.

My mind continues to scatter like a whirlwind of leaves swirling in the air, just circling and circling till I decide to shift gears and put the car into drive. Where I'm going, I don't know. But I drive anyway, because I can't go on like this much longer.

***

I drive as if I'm taking the bus route to school. It's hard to concentrate and drive at the same time because Amelia's mumbling.
You're going to be lost and alone
.
Aunt Rachel doesn't give a shit about you, Milly. Grandpa George is going to die and you'll have to live with that witch. So, in other words, you'll be alone.

I hate that Amelia's talking Aunt Rachel down. I don't want to not like Aunt Rachel. Okay, so there's been times she's acted cold to me. But then there are other times she's really nice. Like when we got Jinks. And I can't ignore that time I found her in the garden, and the things she wrote in her diary.

I drive down Ninety-fifth Street and turn down Oak Park Avenue, where the school is. I slow the car, looking to see if anyone's around. I am hoping to see someone I know, but there's no one there. Really, I have no friends other then Beth. I think of Jenny Stevens for a minute, but she would never listen. If she did, she would only announce to the world everything I say and that wouldn't be a good idea. How could I be this desperate?

Amelia begs me to go to Matt's. Why, I don't know. I suppose it's her desperate need to see someone, anyone, right now that makes her sink to an all-time low. She chants in my mind over and over.
Please Milly. Please can we go? It's you he likes, that other thing was all Beth's fault. His house is just a few blocks away.
I am starting to give in.

I think as I drive, feeling stunned and confused with everything going on. I head down the street, driving on autopilot. There's a force beyond me that is compelling me to maneuver. I'm not even paying attention to the road.

I get up to his house, taking a deep sighing breath and wonder how I'm going to have the courage to get out of the car let alone knock on Matt's door. And before I can ponder on the thought, Amelia wills me to do it.

She turns the engine off. I hear my heartbeat through my ears. It is so loud that I can barely hear my own thoughts. Her thoughts are overriding mine.

Get out of the car, Milly!
Amelia demands. I struggle to stay in control. I can feel her anger rising, like the buzzing crickets bouncing in the trees. I tell her it's late. We shouldn't be doing this. I try to convince her to check my phone to see if Aunt Rachel has called.

NO!
Amelia spits into my ears.
Let's not worry about that now. We're here. Right in front of Matt's house. Don't screw this up, Milly
.

I begin to think Amelia's obsession with Matt has gone into creepy stalker mode. Yet I can't seem to stop her.

Amelia wills me out of the car and drags me up to the premises. I see someone coming up the driveway. Quickly, I react, ducking down so no one can see me. It's Matt. He's going to his car. But wait, there's someone with him. My heart nearly stops when I focus closer. Is that? It can't be.

I zero in on the flaming red hair.
That bitch!
Amelia says.

No wonder she isn't responding to my phone calls.
Ya see, Milly
,
I told you Beth was no good,
Amelia whispers in my mind.

See Milly? She doesn't care. She doesn't give a shit about you. Don't you get it? You're the joke, Milly—you!

I run back to the Saturn so shaken up, not knowing what to think, and drive away.

Chapter Nineteen

Amelia's anger makes my hands shake on the wheel. I think of visiting Grandpa George in the hospital, but I'm too afraid. Besides, Amelia's controlling everything. I don't know where I'm going, but she must know, because I find myself in my old neighborhood. She compels me go to the light and make a left on Kosgrove Street, where my grandfather's burned up house is. Just thinking about it gives me the chills.

My heart starts pumping again, almost as if someone turned up my blood pressure. My palms sweat, too, so much that at this point, it's hard to hold on to the wheel.

“Okay,” I say to myself, “Here it is.”
Look Milly! Look, damn you!
You need to see it!
Amelia screams in my head to look at the ruined house. For a moment I can't. I feel paralyzed, locking my eyes on the tall evergreens that align the street. This was a mistake. Why did I drive myself here? I am driving myself insane, is more like it.

We came all the way out here and you're not gonna look? Milly, what kind of sick, sorry person are you? God, even I feel sorry for you. You're hopelessly pitiful.

Amelia's negative chatter fills my mind with dread, as if I am going to see something so horrific I'll go blind.

Twenty minutes go by while I'm parked there in front of the house. Finally I pick my head up and build up the courage to look.

It isn't as bad as I thought it would be, honestly. I thought it would have been torn down by now, but it isn't. From what I remember hearing, half of the house burned down. But again, I'm wrong on that too. Even though all the windows are boarded up with plywood, the house still stands. On one side, the side where my room was, it's dark, like it was painted in black coal and now is chipping off. The charred panels are curled up and look like they are ready to fall off. But even when a light breeze blows, they don't budge. On the other side of the building, it's all intact. As if there wasn't a fire at all. Clearly whatever started it, started on the east side of the house. My side of the house.

I get out and look around. And when I do, I hear a rustling around back. I'm compelled to go and see, so I slink around the side and into the yard. Nothing. I walk further in. The tulips we planted last year are popping up along the fence, but the weeds are overtaking them.

I kneel down beside one of the bright yellow flowers and brush the petals with my fingers. Again I hear a rustling, like someone's walking in a pile of leaves. When I look up, I'm in shock as my eyes catch sight of the girl with the black hair with bluish flecks. Dear God, it can't be!

For a moment I stay crouched down and out of view. I see the flowing hair blow in the wind from behind the tree. It's around the same area that I've seen her from my old bedroom window—right before the fire. Is she really standing there? As so many thoughts flood my mind, I am surprised Amelia is silent. I'd have thought for sure she would taunt me to go over there or something, but that's not the case.

I'm scared, yet intrigued by the beautiful dark ribbons of her hair. After a few moments, I decide to get up and take a look. When I move, the flowing hair disappears behind the tree. Did she leave?

I walk closer and finally reach around the aging oak. No one is standing there. Maybe I am just imagining all this. But when I look even closer at the trunk, I see there's something stuck in the small hollowed-out hole.

Dear God! What is it?

I raise my hand to it and reach inside, feeling something like velvety pieces of fabric. But when I slowly pull it out, I'm stunned, for inside the oak tree there are magnolia petals. How could this be?

I look at the petals, feeling them between my fingers, then slowly watch them disappear as if blown away in the wind.
Forget it, Milly. I'm warning you.
Amelia's voice slithers in my ear.

But I force away her threats, and envision myself in a room—the child's room. I'm crouched down on the floor. This dark figure is in the doorway as the tall shadows move along the walls. The shadow stretches out their hand to the window. And just as their hand reaches the window, the curtains catch on fire. The dark-haired girl is standing outside, under a magnolia tree. She's looking at me through the window. She looks so sad.

Then I realize—this is the girl in the pictures with Aunt Rachel, the girl I thought was my mother.

Then Amelia snaps me out of the vision.

“Are you the one putting these petals everywhere?” I whisper.

No, you did. Don't you remember?

Remember? That's all I wanted, was to remember, and for years Amelia has stood in my way. Her mind games only made it harder for me to understand what is happening. Right now I am so lost.

***

All the lights are on when I pull in the driveway to Aunt Rachel's house, but her car is gone. Maybe she went to the hospital to visit Grandpa George? I do hope he is okay.

I walk the long way around the graveled driveway, past the brick garage, hesitant to go in. Why are all the damn lights on? Did Aunt Rachel leave in a hurry?

My movements are so slow I seemingly drift up to the front porch. The storm door is open and I can see right through the house. I wait for a few minutes, hearing the bouncing buzz of the crickets again. This time it's more pronounced, being that we are deep in a wooded area. Their loud droning echoes off the tall maples and seems to seep directly into my eardrums. The dim blue rays of the moon shed little light; you can't see anything beyond the forest. Thick dark trees creep their veined branches out and toward the star-embedded sky.

Jinks pops up out of nowhere and coils himself around my legs.

“Hey sweet boy, who let you out all alone out here?” I say to him softly. I can tell he wants to go in and either warm himself or eat.

I feel more confident. I now have a friend to be with, even if it is just my cat. I also feel safer going inside the house.

I open the screen door and step into the front room. At a loss, standing there not knowing where to turn first, I am just about ready to break down. But, through the powers that be, I somehow manage to maintain my composure.

The house seems to sway like a huge ship, lost away at sea. My thoughts are drowning in worries. What will happen to me if Grandpa George dies? Will Aunt Rachel take care of me? Would she want to? On the surface she seems so cold and in control. But her diary makes it seem that inside she is almost as lost and alone as I am.

I think about what it means to be eighteen—an adult, if you call it that. I should be taking care of myself though.
But how? You have no life, Milly. You have nothing to hold on to. Please, Milly, it's time—time you end this—for the both of us.

I'm starting to agree with Amelia. She has a point. What do I have to look forward to in life? I have no ambitions to pursue a good future, no real goals, no friends, no boyfriend—nothing really. I won't have much of a family if Grandpa George dies. I barely know Aunt Rachel and am confused by the way she runs hot and cold.

I begin to think the Blake thing was somehow out of pity, or a joke, as Amelia puts it. Yes, I'm drowning—sinking horribly in this wreckage of a life of mine.

I stand there literally feeling seasick—dizzy and disconnected from the real world—yet I have this overwhelming need to find out more. About Rachel. About my past. Anything to help me out of this darkness.

The library. I bet if I could just get inside, somehow I'm bound to find out more.

I go to the library doors, but they're locked. Damn!

I need something small to pick the lock. I look around the front room and don't notice anything at all that would work. Then I run to the bathroom and flick the light on. I bend down and go through the cabinet under the sink. Nothing but some toilet paper and a small wastebasket. When I stand up again I draw my attention to the mirrors, opening one side and then the other. I push aside the aspirin bottle and the cough syrup and something small drops out and into the sink. One of Aunt Rachel's bobby pins. I snatch the pin out of the sink, thankful that it didn't fall through, and run back to the library doors.

Feverishly, I pick at the lock and after three twisting motions, the door opens.

I go straight to her desk, eyeing up the stacks of papers and books cluttered everywhere. For a woman so clean and proper, she's really disorganized with her work.

I lift a few papers and notebooks off to the side, but put them back when I don't see anything. Then I rummage through her drawers again, hoping to find something there. When I pull out the right drawer, I spot a book review of one of her books—
Under the Magnolia Tree
.

Why is this magnolia tree so significant? I am compelled to check out this book. It's got to be around here somewhere. I run to the huge bookcase along the wall and drag my fingers down the shelves. She has everything from encyclopedias to reference books about writing and the book market. When I get to the lower shelves, I spot her whole novel collection.
Secrets in the Attic, Hidden Voices, The Lost Girl, The Dark Truth,
and
finally
Under the Magnolia Tree.
It's eerie to read all of Aunt Rachel's book titles. I feel like every one of them means something.

I crouch down and pull out the
Under the Magnolia Tree
book. To my amazement, there's a keyhole inside the wall where the book was.
Milly, look inside the book!
I stare back at the book, looking at the heavy hardcover with the tree on the front and a few petals blowing in the wind. When I open it, I find the key resting inside a few carved out pages.

I take the key, stick it in the keyhole and with one twist the whole bookshelf shifts to the side. It's a cemented walkway—a tunnel. Where does it lead?

***

I search in the desk drawers for a flashlight or something. I find a box of huge Kingsford matches, strike one and enter the tunnel.

I walk along the long narrow tunnel, lighting another match when the first one dies out. I come to a steel door. I cup my ear close, yet I hear nothing.

Open it, Milly! Open the door!

I turn the knob and slowly creep inside. It's cold and dark and there's a charred dirt smell. On the far end of the room, there's a small window lit by moonlight. I go to it and look out, and am surprised to discover that I am looking back at Auth Rachel's house.

There's only one other large building on the property. I must be in the brick garage by the driveway. In the dim light I think it looks somewhat furnished, with shapes like furniture here and there.

I search the walls for a light switch and when I do, I feel the paint chipping. Finally I get to the switch and flick it on. A single light comes on, and I gasp as the room is revealed. This is not a garage at all.

I'm standing in a living room, but the furniture is wrecked and the walls are charred black. I see a staircase, and am compelled to walk toward it.

Upstairs I see that there are two rooms. I go in the first—empty and charred like the rest of the place. Then I go to the other room. It's too dark to see much, and there's no window. I try to find another switch, but it's way too dark, so I strike up another match. Dear God! Is this what I think it is?

I walk to the corner of the room, the small orange glow of the match lighting my way and illuminating the head of a horse. It's the same rocking horse I've seen so many times in my dreams. I hold the flame up close to the wall and see it—the charred rainbow wallpaper.

In shock, I blow out the match, race down the stairs and bolt out the nearest door.

I'm standing alone behind the brick building. Too scared to go in the house, I race across the backyard to the garden. I can sit down and just be alone, catch my breath…my thoughts.

I take a seat on the edge of the fountain and watch the moonlight dance along the shimmering surface. Thinking of that house, being in those rooms, flashes of memory come back. That
is
the house I've always dreamed about. I lived in that house. When did it burn? Why didn't I remember these grounds? The main house? Dear God, am I going crazy? My heart speeds up, thumping inside my chest. The moon and the trees spin me around like some nursery game. Confusion fills me with heavy thoughts, dragging me to the ground.

My body collapses at the edge of the fountain. With all this weight crashing down on me, I feel compelled to cut. My eyes glance at the water. The same green glass lies underneath the ripples. But I hesitate.

I need a release.

Come on, Milly, do it for me. Do it for the both of us.

I dip my hands into the water and grab the shard. Things are so foggy in this moment, I have the feeling like I'm in a dream. I'm so tired of everything that has happened. My eyelids get so heavy I close them. Flowing warmth fills in the palm of my right hand. I drive the shard deeper and deeper into my skin, feeling the glass open me. Closing my hand tight, I try to hold on to the warmth. I sit here, keeping my eyes closed and feel the blood flow down my arm like some slick warm oily substance. I hear something rustling in the bushes and think of the girl. But once I open my eyes, there's nothing. Nothing but blood. There's so much blood dripping down my arm that I become lightheaded. I realize I accidentally cut clear across my wrist this time. I try to stand to go to the house in clean it up somehow. But I am so dizzy. Everything is spinning. Everything. Dear God, what have I done? My eyes spread with blackness and then everything goes blank.