Shhh...Mack's Side (13 page)

Yuck. It smelled horrible. He was right. The paneling was seventies, the carpet was at least twenty years old, and an old
, musty, stale cigarette smell lingered in the closed up house. What the hell did I get myself into? The first thing I did was drag all the left over furniture to the front yard. My new neighbors scarfed it up in no time.

It took some elbow grease along with a ton of cleaning supplies, but with the windows
opened and the smell of pine, it was livable. The carpet didn’t clean well, but I didn’t care. My cheap department store furniture covered most of it.  

My hollow life became even shallower, if that were even possible. I acquired a routine, following
it like a well thought out plan, just like Kyle had preached to Gia and me as teenagers. Follow a plan. I went to the grocery store on Wednesday mornings. That was the only day it was practically empty. I could get in and out before most people were rolling over, still in bed. I watched more television than I had since Gia and I were kids, viewing new episodes of shows I never knew existed.

Avoiding anything that might make me smile or laugh, I chose shows that would make me feel even worse. The hospital traumas, devastating documentaries, the news, disasters, and the wanted shows, the ones where girls were taken and never found. I was the queen of self-pity. I could have written a book on it, probably a bestseller. It sounds depressing, and crazy, but killing misery with misery helped in some sort of sick
, twisted way.

I held up to my end of the
deal and talked to Lila, week after week after week. It was so much easier to lie and withhold the truth without the scrutiny of her eyes piercing through me. She kept her end of the bargain and kept me in my prescriptions, including some new anxiety drug that did nothing for my needed sleep. Lila was really the only person I talked to, and that was only because I needed her.  

She called my house phone every Friday morning. Lila was the only one who even had the number. I only got it because it was package deal with the television.
Not about to let it go, Lila, called it the first day I didn’t answer my cell.

“Hello,” I cautiously answered the call from the phone that never rang.

“Did you forget we had an appointment?”

“Lila,” I stated the obvious fact.

“How are you?”

“I’m great. How are you?” I sarcastically replied, turning the tables. Biting into my crisp apple, I waited to see what we would be discussing today. What
thing of the past she would want to pull from my closet of secrets.

“I want you to get out, McKenzie. You’ve been there for months now. You need to find a job, get back to life.”

“Yeah. No. I don’t need to do that. I’m fine right here.” I was fine. I didn’t need a job, not yet, anyway. The way I figured it, I had another two and a half years before I’d be out of money. I would worry about it then.”

“Have you spoken to your mother?”

“No. Have you?”

“You’re a little sour today? What’s going on?”

Crisping the apple in her ear, I snorted. “Sour? Define that for me, would you?” I knew she wasn’t speaking of the Granny Smith apple I was chomping in her ear.

“I feel like you’re a little bitter today. What’s going on? Are you sleeping?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. Whatever. I was used to it.

“We were discussing
why you were so drawn to Kyle last week.”

I sighed
and audible breath, exasperated. “I wasn’t drawn to Kyle last week. That was ages ago,” I smartly said, I didn’t want to discuss him again. There was nothing to discuss.

“McKenzie.”

“Can we do this next week? I was just getting ready to shower,” I asked. I didn’t need to discuss Kyle again. He plagued my mind enough without her help.

“You can’t keep running and hiding,” Lila countered.

“Yeah, good observation. The thing is, I don’t think about Kyle. I never think about Kyle, AJ, Colton, Cara, Gianna, or Mr. Nichols. That’s it. We’ve discussed every one of them. I don’t need to talk about Kyle. He’s nothing to me. He never was. I’ve told you this before. What is it that you want to know? I don’t get it,”

“
It’s not the person, McKenzie. It’s the feelings associated with the person.”

“There are no feelings.
That was a long time ago. You preach moving on, but you don’t want to let it go. Didn’t you ever do anything stupid?”

“Many times. When you were
seeing Kyle, did you feel attracted to him, physically?”

Shaking my head, I tossed my core to the paper can. “Score!”

“Excuse me?”

“
Yes, Lila. I was very attracted to Kyle. I still have orgasms thinking of Kyle. You know this. What the hell? Why are we doing this again?”

“What was it that attracted you to him?”

“Oh my god. I can’t do this today. We’ll pick up next Friday.”

“What’s going on McKenzie? Why are you so irritable today?”

“I’m sorry. It’s like three days before my period. I’m sure it’s just PMS. Can we please do this next week?”

“Sure
, okay. I remember those days. I couldn’t stand myself sometimes.”

“Oh
, I can stand me. I can’t stand you.”

Lila laughed. “Okay, McKenzie. We’ll talk next week. You know how to reach me.”

“Thank you, Lila.”

I settled in quite nicely. The house wasn’t near
ly as bad as I’d been told. Yes, it did need a new roof, but luckily it was small. It only cost me three thousand, not that I knew whether or not that was a good price. I lived in a high-rise, and I have no idea what my dad paid for maintenance back home. I spent countless hours cleaning every little nook and cranny. I had nothing but time, solitude, and thoughts. Thoughts that just wouldn’t quit. I wasn’t worried about him coming after me. It wasn’t anything like that. It was a little strange, I guess.

Although my parents believe
d I was here alone, hiding from a monster, it’s simply not true. I even daydreamed about it on occasion, him coming to get me. It was always the same outcome. I’d open the front door, he’d be standing there with a straight arm and a big, black pistol. I’d smile at him, and he would put me out of my misery. Right between the eyes.

Laying on the couch, staring at the television, I blankly paid no attention, not until John Walsh announced the disappearance of
a three-year-old little girl. I studied her face, wondering if she could be Cara. I thought about her often, I observed little girls that would be around her age, and I thought about her grave. A tiny white casket with pink roses lined in silk. Maybe she’d been put up for adoption, maybe this was her and she was taken. I shook it off as soon as they showed her little picture. This little girl
was
adopted—from China. She couldn’t be Cara. And Cara was dead.

I flipped the television off, wondering what the day was. I was almost out o
f milk, it had to be Monday. I could have checked my phone like I once had. Snorting, I got up. Gia and I used to be glued to our phones. It was attached to my ear or my texting thumbs when I was busy with my career in New York. Now, well, I didn’t even know where it was, probably dead in a drawer some place.

The only person who ever called was my mother, and that was hardly ever anymore. It was July and I was sure it had been at least three months since I had talked to her. She’d call, leave me a voic
email, and I would send her a text. “Sorry, mom, busy. We’ll talk soon.” I didn’t even rewrite it. I would hit resend every time she called. Other than that, it was just me. Me and my miserable life.

Determining that it was Tuesday, I started a grocery list. The new TV Guide was first on my list. I needed to make sure I could keep up my miserable TV run. I went as far as circling the
shows that I’d watch for the entire week. I had a lot of time on my hands, and it had become one of the customs in my routine. Milk, bread, lunch meat, chips, frozen pizza, soup, and, hmm. There was something else, something important. Tapping the tip of my nose with the pen, I thought about what it was.

“Tampons!” I yelled to my empty house. Oh, and I better get toilet paper too. I always used more this week, wrapping my feminine products. That wasn’t bad. One bag and one jug of milk. I could handle that with my homeless cart. I bought one of those wire basket thingies from a garage sale. I wasn’t planning on stopping at it at all. They called me to come over.

They were nice enough neighbors, I guess. They lived on the corner and had three boys. I stared after them in their fenced in yard, watching them play when I walked. Jaydon, Mason, and Carter. I didn’t know the parents’ names, but heard the boys fighting enough to learn theirs. I knew the oldest was ten.

“Hey, I have something for you. Come over here,” the wife called. It was hot. I had milk, I needed to get home. I didn’t want to befriend my neighbors. I was doing just fine by myself.

“Oh, maybe some other time. I have milk,” I replied, holding the milk up unnecessarily for her to see.

“This will benefit you. Come on. I’m not going to bite you.”

She wanted to show me this wire basket thing with wheels she was selling. I gladly paid her three dollars for it. It made my job much easier. It still reminded me of something a homeless person used. I’d seen them around when I lived in New York. I bought a couple books, a hand held hangman game, two one-thousand piece puzzles, and an iced tea pitcher. I never did learn her name. I think they thought I was weird or something. I didn’t talk to anyone and I walked—a lot. I would think I was weird, too. It was only three mile down the country road. I didn’t mind at all. I liked walking. Wednesday morning walks to the grocery store was my only day out of my dark, dreary house. 

Thinking about it now, I realize how uncaringly careless I really was. I guess when you
put yourself wide open for danger, it’ll seek you out. I walked through a shady neighborhood, took a shortcut through a patch of woods, and lived alone in a town, barely even a town. Maybe I wanted it. Maybe I was asking for it, or closer to the truth, I was begging for it. I was making it easy for anyone who wanted to bring it.

It never happened. Although I knew I was living in a shady neighborhood, flirted with disaster by walking into dark places alone, and
chose to continue doing it week after week, proved one thing. This was my life. I was meant to live a lonely, miserable life alone. Danger even brushed off my invitation. Doomed was what I was destined to be.

I fo
und solitude that night with a rain forest puzzle. I was determined to get the outside edges done before I went to bed. After I showered, I sat on my feet and began trying to fit the correct slot for the tiny cardboard cutout. I liked the puzzle because it forced my mind to figure out where this little circle with a hook on it went, or where this color green matched up with that color. It occupied my mind. I had spent my entire life trying to find new ways to do just that. Who knew a fifty cent puzzle would do the job.

Finally
, around one in the morning, I was done. My eyes couldn’t even see the colors anymore. I stood and yawned, stopping my walking for a needed stretch. Feeling the air on my stomach from my lifted shirt, I watched the dark shadow walk across my living room window, and then the kitchen. I froze. I guess I didn’t really mean it when I said I was trying to attract anything bad that could happen to me.

I made sure the door was locked, went around and locked all the windows, and closed all the blinds. I was scared shitless. I’d been around there long enough for anyone in the neighborhood to know I was alone. I was always alone. I searched for my cell
phone, finding it in a junk drawer in the bathroom, dead. I plugged it in and sighed. I wasn’t sure when I’d last powered it on, and I had nothing. In one short year I managed to push everyone I loved away from me. Not one voicemail, no text messages, and no notifications from emails or Facebook.

Who knew how long it would be before some
one found me. I could lay dead here for weeks, maybe even months, rotting away before I’d ever be missed. That was the first time I’d been scared since I moved there, and for the first time in a very long time, I wished I wasn’t alone.

I lay quietly, covered to my neck in my bed, listening for a sound, a hint that someone was there. My head snapped at every noise, near and far until wee hours of the morning when I finally gave into the exhaustion and let sleep win.

I felt silly the following morning, waking to the sun peeking through the crack of the shades, creating even lines across my bed. I rolled to my side, closed my eyes, and thought about how terrified I’d been the night before. I know what I saw. I was sure it was a shadow too close to my house. They were probably scoping the place out, and when they saw that someone was home and the lights were on, they moved on.

I was going to leave my cell
phone powered beside my bed. I added wasp spray to my grocery list as well, remembering Kyle telling me once to use it in place of mace because of the long stream. I never did it, not caring. I’m not sure I cared now either, but I did want to feel somewhat safe. I’d probably never use it, anyway.

Using my very last tampon, I got dressed. There would be no procrastinating today. Dressing in shorts and tank, I slipped on flip flops and pulled the handle on my homeless cart. Phew. It was eight in the morning and already ridiculously hot.
My hair was never curly until I moved to Florida. The humidity was off the charts. Deciding to get it over with, I set out on my Wednesday walk to Pritchett’s Grocers. 

I kept my head down for the most part to keep from having to speak to people. Turning right on the county road, I retrieved the grocery list from my hip pocket. Chap
Stick. The sun made my lips dry. Knowing I’d forget if it wasn’t in front of my eyes, I jotted it down. That’s when I saw the older car ahead.

I’m sure it was because of the night before, but while my pen was still in hand, I wrote down the license plate number. Just in case. I moved to the opposite side of the road. There was a stream just through the thickets, probably down there fishing, I decided, shaking off my fear. It was silly. I’d been there for almost a year. Nobody ever bothered me. I was just freaked out about the shadows. Somebody walked in front of my windows. I was sure of that.

I couldn’t get over how hot it was already. I would be staying inside with the air-conditioner, thankful for the noisy little eyesore, the white square box stuck in the window.

Thinking about the heat in Florida, I thought about Lake Forest. That was our last vacation with the Edwards before that night. My mom and Melanie had gone up to the resort right after the boat show. They had a bottle of wine waiting on them. Gia and I stayed on our private sandy beach with our dads, wanting to see the light show after dark. I’d been fucking with Kyle all day, running my fingers over my breasts, through the elastic at the top of my bikini, flipping my hair, licking my lips. I taunted him every time I caught him staring.

That was our last time together, the last weekend getaway we’d ever share with the Edwards. Who would have thought?

“Come on, Gia, let’s go in the lake.”

“You’re out of your mind. It’s dark. I’m not going in there.”

“Come on, it’s so hot. Let’s go cool off,” I coaxed, pulling Gia to the dark lake.

“No, Mack. You’re crazy. We’ll get eaten by a shark.”

“Not in the lake,” I said, ignoring the crazy remark. I hated that word. I was the only one who could use it that lightly.

“Come on, I’ll go with you,” my dad offered.

I followed him in and screamed when he dove under, pulling my feet from under me.

“Oh my god! I hate you!” I wailed. 

“Yeah? Well, I’m pretty proud of you.”

“You are?” I asked, tilting my head.
My dad never talked to me like this. I was confused, and taken aback.

“I am, except maybe
those purple streaks. Don’t do that again. I like your hair the color of your mothers.”

I snickered and agreed, knowing I was lying.
I liked it black. It matched with my new obsession of black nail polish and dark eyes.

“You’re going to leave in the fall
, Mack. Where did time go? And state? Really? I can’t believe I’m going to be watching you girls at state.”

“I can’t believe it either. Finally.”
This was odd. My dad and me having this conversation. Weird…

“Hey, what better way to end your senior year, right?”

“Yeah, but I would have taken it a few years ago, too,” I admitted with a laugh.

“Grades are all good? No need to worry about that? GPA’s where we need it to
be? Ready to send off?”

Really? My dad never cared about my grades.
“We still have a final to take for Mr. Nichols next Friday. I don’t know why he’s dragging it out so long.”

“More time to study.”

I screamed again when Kyle did the same thing, sneaking in and grabbing my feet under the dark water. My dad chastised me for calling him a dick. I looked over my shoulder, not seeing Gia.

“She
went up to shower,” Kyle informed me, squatting, letting the dark water cover him up to his neck. The three of us stood around talking about how much Gia and I had been practicing for the competition. Kyle was concerned with her grades, needing a certain GPA for her full scholarship. I was a little worried about that, too. I was fine. I had it in the bag once I passed Mr. Nichols’ English class. It was Gia who wouldn’t take it seriously. I was fine, even with a big fat zero. It would devastate Gia, not to mention her parents would pulverize her if she didn’t get that scholarship. I, of course, didn’t disclose any of that to Kyle, he’d flip his lid.