98. The Same Guy
When I get to the top I tell Jared to wait in the car. He seems less anxious now. For a moment he just stares out at the inn.
“I’ll tell her that you’re here and ask if she wants to see you.”
“Wonderful.”
I climb out of the car and go to the door. After a few knocks, I let myself in. Iris has always said to make myself feel at home, to come whenever I’d like, never to feel like I’m bothering her.
But today’s a Sunday. And I brought someone with me.
It’s quiet inside, almost too quiet. I call out for Iris. Sometimes when I do this, I hear her voice answering from a room upstairs or down the hall. Today I don’t hear anything. No voice, no movement, nothing.
I enter the kitchen. No coffee or tea made. No breakfast out. No dishes in the sink.
I wonder if there are any guests in the inn.
Again I call out her name. Nothing.
There’s a reason for this.
The birds, Jared coming with me, the spooky fog outside …
Something’s wrong.
But something’s been wrong ever since I set foot in Solitary. Iris knows the town and knows my place in it. She knows about Uncle Robert, and it’s time to get some answers. Some legitimate, real, eye-opening answers.
As I head out of the kitchen through the dining room, I hear a door open.
“Iris?”
I go into the room and see him. A face and a smile I know but suddenly don’t recognize. Every inch of me goes cold.
“No.”
That’s all Jared says. But it’s the way he looks, the way he says it.
And suddenly I know. Just like that.
Just.
Like.
That.
“Let’s wait for her in here,” Jared says.
“I told you to wait in the car.”
“She won’t mind. I’m sure she won’t.”
I take a few steps and then stand near the wall between the dining room and the front door. Jared is by the couch, about ten feet away from me. I can smell something different, something strong.
He’s holding something white. A cloth or an old handkerchief, the kind that guys used to have in the old-time movies. He uses his index fingers and thumbs to delicately turn the white thing.
“Why don’t you sit, Chris?”
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
His eyes maul mine, then he looks around, then looks back at me. Again he smiles.
You’re so stupid, Chris. Stupid.
“Do you recognize this?”
I look at him and then at the cloth.
“Jared—what—”
“Tell me. Do you recognize it?”
“No.”
“It belonged to my father. It was his handkerchief. He taught me how to use it too.” He pauses, looking like he’s about ready to deliver a punch line.
I glance at the door.
“Uh-uh. We have to wait.”
“Jared. What are you doing?”
“My father taught me to be careful about the dosage. With a strong enough dose you can knock out anybody.”
I can get to the door I can make it there before he can grab me.
Jared moves a little closer to the door, reading my hand. Then he holds up the handkerchief. “You really should remember this, Chris. And so should your mom.” He laughs.
And I know.
I know, but I have no idea why. Why all the lies? Why all the games?
You can’t get out you have to get somewhere else.
“Both of you went out so fast. It was ridiculous.”
I back up and then stand against the wall.
What about Iris? What’s he going to do to her?
“Do you know that chloroform was used between the 1800s and 1900s? The only problem with it, then and now, is the side effects. Especially with your liver and your kidneys. But, well, we’ll just have to worry about that when the time comes, won’t we.”
“Why are you doing this?”
He ignores my question and puts the cloth in one hand.
“Why?” he echoes. He takes a step closer. “It was my job. The icing on the cake is discovering this place. All thanks to you. ”
He smiles again.
I just don’t …
Go.
I bolt and stop thinking and get around the corner heading down the hall, but he’s too fast.
Way too fast.
I feel a hand on my arm and another pulling my shirt and then I feel something come over my face then feel something pressed over my face and my mouth and I start to scream but I can’t.
I’m trying to scream one thing over and over but I can’t get it out.
Iris get out of here Iris get out of here.
I keep trying until I suddenly can’t try anything anymore.