Alice didn't say a word to her aunt as she ran out the front door, past her mother, and into the back of the van. The dress landed on the floor at her feet, her eyes turned out the window away from the house and the wretched hour she'd just spent.
It was only through a monumental effort Alice kept from weeping out loud, but there was nothing she could do about the tears that welled and ran in endless lines down her cheeks.
Betty's door opened, her voice reaching Alice. “Thanks again!” Alice refused to turn her head, to acknowledge her mother.
Until something heavy landed at her feet next to the dress. Alice stared down in horror at her backpack. She'd forgotten it in Claire's room. How could she possibly have forgotten? She reached for it the same moment Betty made a tsking sound and grabbed the dress.
“Really, Alice,” she said. “This was a gift.”
Alice clutched her bag to her chest, hiding her tears behind the top of it. The sound of the hated fabric swishing came from the front seat and, when Alice risked a peek, she saw the dress filled the passenger side.
“Whatever is the matter with you?” Betty started up the van. The irritation in her voice only fed Alice's suffering. “That was a very nice thing your aunt and cousin did for you.”
Alice bit her lower lip, resting her forehead on the top of her bag. Nice. Was that what it was?
Betty sighed when Alice didn't answer and drove off, hitting the gas pedal so hard in her annoyance Alice jerked forward, stopped by her seat belt.
It was a silent drive home, the perfect environment for the gray to come calling. Instead of allowing it, Alice unzipped the side of her bag and reached within, fingers brushing over the rough cloth of the doll's body.
It brought her comfort, despite everything, and by the time Betty turned into the driveway at Blunt House, Alice had control of her tears. She zipped up her bag, sending out silent thanks to the little doll, only to have her mother grab her arm as she tried to leave the van.
“Aren't you going to take your dress?”
Alice didn't know why her mother's frown and abrupt question set her off again. She only knew it did. With a gasp of air past the tightness in her throat, Alice pulled free of her mother and jerked the door open, throwing herself out of the van, running to the front door.
It slammed open as she ran inside, still running until she reached the back door and out, into the jungle again.
It seemed the perfect place to sob her heart out where no one would find her. But no, not here, not inside the greenery. She knew where she had to be.
Alice burst through the edge of the overgrown garden and into the open emptiness of the back of the yard. She dropped to the side of the dead fountain, bag falling between her feet as she finally let her heart break open and sobbed bitter tears into her hands.
The wrenching sadness didn't last long, her shoulders twitching from caught breaths a few times after she'd wailed her despair. But her tears seemed to have no end. As she sat there, rocking slowly forward and back, she felt her gaze rise, vision wavering through the flow of moisture, to settle on the blackened patch of spongy earth just past her feet.
Alice rose, went to the edge, her tears dripping into the dirt, feeding the dampness plaguing this part of the garden. A detached part of her wondered again what was wrong with the ground. One sneaker scuffed over the edge, feeling the sponge turn to something softer and, with a thrill of fear, the dream she'd had the day before rushed back to her.
Tears shut off, remembered horror returning, Alice stepped back.
Tried to. Her left shoe retreated without effort.
Her right refused to budge.
Panic took over as she wrenched herself away, breath catching in her chest, a rush of adrenaline seizing her, driving her backward. Her sneaker came free with a wet, sucking sound at the same moment, sending Alice sprawling on her back.
Too much like the dream. Too real. Alice shook her sneaker, wet glops of dirt falling loose. She felt terrified black-stained, skeletal hands would rise to pull her under.
Only then did she hear the sound of yelling. At first she thought she imagined it. Until she recognized the sound of Betty's voice, if not the words. Alice gathered up her backpack and circled the house, keeping tight to the fence to avoid the murky patch, not taking her eyes from it as she eased along the side of the house, only turning forward when the garden was lost in sight past the back corner of the building.
Alice moved past the side kitchen door, emerged in a flurry of parting weeds onto the front walk, turning to see her mother and Mrs. Talbot facing off near the old iron gate leading to the entry. The nasty little Pomeranian bounced and snarled in time with his owner's shrieking.
“—no party in this house!” Mrs. Talbot was in full swing by the time Alice swiped her face with her sleeve to erase her tear tracks and approached the two women.
“How dare you?” Betty shook with what looked like fury. “You have no right—”
Mrs. Talbot's hiss cut Betty off. “I have no right?” She drew herself up, tiny frame shaking as much as Betty's larger one. “I, who have lived in this neighborhood my entire life while you and those two,” she waved at Alice who flinched as the Pomeranian came running for her, snapping and yapping, “hoodlums you call your children are nothing but squatters.” Alice thought she knew hate. Mrs. Talbot took it to a whole new level. “I've already started a petition and everyone agrees—no party!”
“It's okay,” Alice said, ever so softly.
Both women spun toward her, Betty's eyebrows arching, eyes wide while Mrs. Talbot stared at Alice in shock.
Alice shrugged, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “I didn't want a party anyway. So we're not having one.” And she wasn't going to the dance, either. Betty didn't know it yet, though. Alice would leave that battle for later.
Mrs. Talbot jabbed one of her pointy fingers at Alice. “Girls like you shouldn't be allowed to go to dances.”
Alice gaped at her. What?
“Excuse me.” Betty's voice fell to cold fury.
“You heard me.” Mrs. Talbot clapped her hands together. The little dog gave one last yap at Alice before returning to his mistress. “Ugly runs deep in this family.”
Enough. No more. Alice was done. She turned to the house without another word while Betty yelled something after the terrible Mrs. Talbot. But Alice wasn't listening. Couldn't.
Didn't care anymore.
She paused by the kitchen door, staring at the mess of purple hanging over the nearest stool and felt herself break at long last.
***