70. The Memories You Try to Bury

Seeing Jared is a sign.

No, make that an omen.

Any minute now that little dark-haired boy is going to come around the corner and the screeching violins are going to start playing and things are going to get really bad.

They aren’t already?

It’s 1:24 a.m., and I’m wide awake.

I’m wide awake because someone is screaming outside our cabin.

It’s been going on for ten minutes or so.

I’m waiting for Mom to hear it and come upstairs. But so far I haven’t heard anything below.

Midnight is sitting up on my bed, looking at me every time another howl sounds.

I used to watch horror movies all the time on cable back at home. Mom and Dad didn’t really pay much attention. Sometimes I’d watch them at Brady’s house because his parents definitely didn’t pay any attention.

Brady. There’s a name from yesteryear.

That sound outside is from one of those movies. A werewolf movie.

Could this be the demon dog howling in the night?

I slip out of bed. Mom has got to be awake. There’s no way to not hear those screams outside.

It’s so black downstairs, I might as well have my eyes closed.

You have to hear those sounds, Mom. Don’t you?

But her door never opens, and I never hear her feet shuffling on the floor.

I crawl back into bed.

Eventually the howling stops.

I can only imagine what’s next.

Mom is waiting for me when I walk downstairs the next morning. “Can we talk?” she asks.

She looks like she’s been up for a while; she’s dressed and ready for the day. Though what that means I don’t know.

“Sure.”

“Want me to make you anything for breakfast?”

I shake my head and get my usual bowl of Raisin Nut Bran and then sit across from Mom at the round table. She’s got a big mug of coffee in her hands.

“Did you hear that last night?” she asks.

Even made up and not drinking anymore (at least not that I know of), Mom’s face still looks hard. Not just the lines, but the look. It’s heavy.

Wonder if mine’s starting to look that way too.

I let out a chuckle that says Uh, yeah and then nod. My mouth is full, so I don’t say anything.

Mom sighs, takes a sip of her coffee.

Is this the moment she’s going to tell me she’s a vampire?

“I should have never brought us back to this evil place, Chris. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through.”

“You’ve already apologized,” I say. “It’s okay.”

“Listen to me. It’s too close to your graduation for us to leave. I can’t do that to you.”

No, Mom, you can. And should.

“But right after graduation we’re going back to Illinois,” she continues.

“For real?”

“Yes. What? Why does that surprise you?”

“I didn’t think you ever wanted to go there again.”

She swallows and gives me that heavy, hard look. “I learned something in rehab, Chris. Something about myself that’s not so flattering. It’s not about my drinking. But it’s why I drink. The other day when you walked in on us arguing I was telling Robert this. Of course, he doesn’t want to talk about it. He wants to keep it buried just like I have all these years.”

“Keep what buried?”

“The facts about our parents. About my mom—your grandmother. I told you she passed away when I was young, but I’ve never told you how.”

I have a feeling the how isn’t going to be so good.

“Louise—that was your grandmother’s name. She was Aunt Alice’s younger sister.”

I really don’t think I want to hear this. I finish my bowl of cereal and have a hard time looking Mom straight in her face.

“They killed her,” Mom says. “I was ten years old and remember it like it was yesterday. It’s strange the memories that you try to bury. They never really go away. Not totally. I realized that while getting help these last few months.”

I shift in the chair that I suddenly realize is really uncomfortable.

“Robert and I were at our house when Daddy came home and got his rifle. All he said is that something happened to Momma. He told Robert to take care of me. There were some neighbors at the time just a couple houses down, and Daddy told Robert to take me there. I remember walking to the house scared out of my mind—it was still light out ’cause it was summertime. I spent the night there, but Robert got out. I never knew this until the other night. He didn’t spend the night at the Carsons’ house.”

I nod, waiting to hear. The cabin feels warm as morning sunlight splashes over the room.

“He went back home to wait and hear what happened, but he hid because he knew Daddy would beat him if he disobeyed an order. And he saw your grandfather come home covered in blood. No rifle, no Momma. And Robert told me he just—”

Mom tears up, and her voice suddenly begins to shake.

“Mom?”

“I’m okay—it’s just—” She wipes her eyes and nose. “Robert heard our father weep. He didn’t think anybody was home—he was too tough to cry in front of anybody else. Especially his children. But Robert had to hear that.”

“What happened?”

“Daddy told us it was a driving accident, but Robert knew it wasn’t true. All he ever got out of our father was that it had something to do with our mom’s sister, Alice, and their father. But Chris—they killed her. The evil in this town killed her. I know that now. Just like they killed your grandfather.”

And just like they killed Jocelyn.

I almost say this.

But I can’t.

Mom is sitting across from me, weeping softly in her hands. I go over and sit beside her and then hug her.

I will tell her about Jocelyn. But not now.

I don’t want to add fire to the flames.

“Chris—I—it just—” She can’t talk for a while. I hold her and wait for the tears to stop.

When they do, Mom grabs a Kleenex and then sits back down with another sigh.

“My parents were God-fearing people, Chris. That was why my grandfather didn’t want to have anything to do with them. And that’s why—that’s what happened.”

“Why they got killed?” I ask.

“Yes. But also—that’s what happened to Robert and me. Why we grew up—at least why I started to hate God. All this time I’ve been angry, Chris. I didn’t even know it. Not really. But what happened with your father scared me, because it made me think of my own parents and their faith and the faith I once had. A faith I thought was real until my mother died and I was forced to live a completely new life. That’s when my resentment began. So when your father showed up saying he had been born again, I didn’t want to hear any of it. But deep down—deep down I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“That the same thing that happened to my parents might happen to your father. Or to you. And I just—”

She begins to cry again.

If only you knew the rest of the story, Mom.

“We’re going to be fine,” I tell her.

She nods, but I can tell she thinks this is her son trying to say anything just to make her feel better.

“No, Mom, listen. We are going to be fine. We are going to get out of here. God will take care of us.”

For the first time in my life, I see Mom as someone else. Not an old, broken-down lady, and not the person trying to take care of me and raise me.

No. I see a girl just like Jocelyn and Lily and Kelsey and any other girl. Just a little rougher around the edges.

A girl with the same fears and frustrations that any of us might have.

“We gotta believe that, you know?” I ask. “It’s either that or we let the howling wolves get to us.”

She shakes her head and starts crying again. “I just don’t—I don’t know what those things are—they’re chasing me. They’ve been chasing me my whole life. I thought … I really believed coming back here meant they’d stop coming after me. I didn’t know all this time that that’s what they wanted.”

“What?”

Mom wipes her cheeks. “For me to come back here with the thing I love the most.”

I feel an ache deep inside my gut. I give her another hug.

Maybe they’ve been chasing her all her life. But it’s almost time to make a stand and fight back.

I know how much longer we have, and I know what they ultimately want.

When the moment comes, I’ll be ready. For whatever happens.