Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish,
is dear to me, and I will defend it.
~Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
WHEN I CAUGHT UP WITH BEN, he was halfway to the boat dock. Anxious to leave, Mom must have gone on ahead of him. My feet were bare after I’d kicked off the heels somewhere along the way, and the stabbing pain on my soles told me I’d run through sand burrs. My pulse swished in my ears. I bent over my knees, breathless from hurrying to catch him. He gave my shoulder a fatherly pat.
“What’s the matter, my dear? Good heavens! Did you want to come along? Why didn’t you say so? You’re more than welcome.”
“No. You…can’t go!” My lungs raged, but I forced myself upright. “Don’t take…Mom…anywhere.” I held out the page I’d drawn.
He accepted my picture. Examining it, his eyes bulged in surprise. “Good God, this sketch is astounding. I know little of art, but I’m sure this is first rate.” His hands framed the paper gently, carefully studying the details. “Reminds one of Munsch’s The Scream. What do they call the style? Expressionist?”
I shook my head. “No. You’re not seeing it. This is what happened to Stella the night she disappeared.”
His gaze lifted from the page, donning the same expression I’d seen people give my dad a million times after he’d said or done something bizarro, like the time he’d offered a bottle of Wild Turkey to a Baptist preacher.
“Um, this is your young friend? The daughter of the woman we visited?”
“Yeah. That’s her.”
In the sketch and in the vision I’d seen so clearly I could’ve touched her, Stella was asleep in bed with a grisly creature hovering above her with its skeletal hands anchored to her clothing.
Peach-tinted sunlight flashed off his glasses. “I very much doubt your friend would take pleasure in this manner of portraiture.”
“I’m not trying to be funny. You don’t get it. I’m drawing the past. I draw it all the time. This happened to Stella. That’s why she wandered into our house and why she disappeared. That thing had control of her.”
“My girl, you have an active imagination, which I’m sure will serve you well in the arts. I should know.” He passed the page back and cupped my cheek, causing me to back away a step. “Just be sure to keep your ideas and inspirations to yourself, right? Wouldn’t want to scare away potential patrons—or that scholarship committee you’ve been trying to impress. Not that it will matter. I’m sure I’ll pull some strings where your education is concerned.” He winked and headed back on his way.
“Wait!” I dropped the sketch and grabbed his sleeve, stopping him again. “Listen, I’ve seen it. I promise you I’ve seen this creature, and it’s real. It’s left Stella, and now I think it’s in Mom. Just take a good long look at her eyes and you’ll see it.”
He sighed, losing the kindness in his expression. “It’s her sedative. She’s been dying to see my real estate investments, but she’s scared she’ll get seasick. Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll take good care of her.”
Ben smiled and marched ahead, his footsteps more brisk.
I yelled at his back, “Ohmigod, you know nothing about my mom! She doesn’t act like this. The hag is riding her.”
Ben froze, and his shoulders stiffened. He wheeled around. “This is more of Geoffrey’s influence. Boo Hags—his excuse for his brother’s body disappearing. He thought he could throw the guilt off his shoulders by talking that nonsense. Now he’s put you up to this.” He tilted his chin in the air, waiting for my response.
“That’s not true. I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve seen—”
“Enough!” His hand chopped the air between us. “I’m sorry the boy’s filled your head with his twaddle, especially given your…hereditary background. It’s unfortunate, but there’s nothing we can do at the moment. We’ll discuss treatment for you in the morning with your mother. Right now, I want you to go back home, young lady.”
Helpless to stop him, I walked in the direction of the house, making slow progress until I felt certain Ben wouldn’t see me. Then I followed him at a distance, taking cover behind a tree to watch Mom and him board the boat. He swept her off her feet, and she slumped like a bag of potatoes against his chest, not bothering to hold him as he hoisted her onto the boat with him. Gently, he laid her on one of the plush seats beside the helm then left her to start the motor. Although my vantage point was far from the dock, I made out the smile on Mom’s face as she watched Ben moving between the engine and the wheel.
What if Ben was right?
I could’ve been wrong about her. The darkness in her eyes could’ve been my imagination. If the hag was riding her and the hag feared water, wouldn’t it want to avoid this excursion? She’d seemed so eager to leave.
Stella had said she’d been repulsed by water during her possession, yet drawn to it. Did the open water offer the creature a sick thrill?
Worry and nausea knotted my stomach.
What if I was right?
I ran from my hiding place, charging for the dock. The boat slid away from its tether as my feet hit the wooden deck. I had no idea what I would do, but I had to do something. I called to my mom just as Ben cut the wheel. He didn’t seem to hear me over the motor, but Mom’s dead gaze locked with mine as the vessel veered away for the channel.
Too late.
If Ben only had another boat, I would chase them. But what would I do if I caught up with Mom? Drown her? Not hardly.
Desperate for a boat, I left the dock and headed for Mom’s car.
I weighed my options as I stuffed my sore, bloody feet in the heels and got in the automobile. There was Alessandro and his fishing boat, but that would require lots of explaining to a man who was almost a virtual stranger. And how long would I have to wait on him to return to the harbor? Lewis had a boat, too, kept at a friend’s dock, but I had no idea where.
I had Lewis’s number saved on my phone, so I hit the button to call.
No answer.
Disappointment washed over me as I hung up. Then the voice mail caught my attention, indicating a new message. Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten I’d missed Lewis’s call earlier. Turning onto the highway, I listened as his voice came on.
“I’m headed over to Geoff’s to pick him up.” He sighed into the receiver. There was a long pause, as if he’d forgotten to turn off the phone. Just as I was about to do the same, he came back on again. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. You’re right. I’m tired of this bullshit. Not you. You’re okay. But it does make me mad, you know? Maybe I wouldn’t be so angry…maybe Geoff wouldn’t keep askin’…it just might make it easier for all of us if I told him.” Another pause. The sound of his turn signal came on. “If he wants to be with you, I’ll respect that. I’ll stay away. I have to—need to—because I can’t put on a front anymore. That’s not me. But you know, I can’t just walk away without asking, you know, who he’d choose.”
“What? No! You’re his best friend. He loves you like a brother.” I found myself talking to him, even though it was only a message.
He chuckled and continued in a melancholy voice, “He’ll probably pick you. Don’t worry. But who knows? The way Geoff is, he might pick me.” The message ended, and the recorded voice mail options became an earworm as I dropped the phone in my lap.
My gut plummeted. This wasn’t happening. I’d only wanted to help, not cause Lewis to offer Geoff an ultimatum.
By the time I reached the stadium’s crowded parking lot, my cell battery was dead from attempted calls to Lewis, and I’d worried my nail polish off half my fingernails. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why couldn’t I have just left them alone? In time, Lewis would’ve probably moved on without my interfering, and we could’ve all been friends.
I parked and hurried for the entrance. The line at the ticket stand was clear into the parking lot, but I wove around them. “Yearbook staff!” I waved at the lady in the booth, who scowled at me as I broke through the line of fans.
My gaze searched for Lewis in the crowd. Geoff wouldn’t be in the stands, but with the team.
“Chelsea Rodgers!” Halfway between the gate and the stands, a girl’s voice stopped me.
I turned to find Haley Strauss standing behind me in her short cheerleader skirt, hair neatly coiled against her neck and eyes slightly red beneath a thick coat of mascara. She carried a box laden with flowers and ribbons.
“Do you want your corsage or not?” Her cherry-stained lips pulled in petulance above the heaping pile of ornaments.
“I didn’t order one.” Over her shoulder, Stella, Mark, and Stephen moved up the next ramp, entering the stands. I waved, but they didn’t glance my way before disappearing.
“Maybe you didn’t—” she produced a giant white mum and held it in my face “—but somebody did.”
I took the corsage, murmured a thank you, and pinned it on hastily, jabbing my thumb. A saxophone groaned to life over the loudspeaker.
Haley hesitated, staring past the stands as if she could see the field through them. “They’re about to take the field. I hope she trips.”
Vaguely, my brain registered that she was talking about her former best friend Tiffany and the rest of the court.
I dashed up the ramp with gilded ribbons, bells, and tiny helmets streaming down to my hips from the massive decoration on my dress. Stella called my name as I emerged, waving me toward their seats. Stephen scooted down, closer to his new girlfriend, leaving a space for me.
“Girl, you look—”
“Where’s Lewis?” I perched lightly on the empty seat beside her.
The stands were packed with everyone dressed in their best clothes for the ceremony. The homecoming maids in sparkly evening gowns and the escorts in dark suits milled in a tight cluster on the sidelines.
“He was down there by himself, last I saw him. I don’t know.” She nudged me, bringing my gaze back to her from the sea of football fans. “How do I look?”
I smiled and gave her a hug. “Hot and you know it.”
Her manicured fingers fluttered over the deep blue fabric. “You think? Really?” She grinned.
“Yeah. I really do.”
I stood and made an excuse, said I couldn’t stay. Stella’s eyes grew round with worry. As I broke away from the group of friends, I saw dread and understanding fill her expression. Guilt weighed me down. I hated being the one to ruin her happiness, but I couldn’t fake it, being terrified myself. At least I got away before she could ask me why I was upset. There was nothing she could do to help.
When I caught up with Lewis, we were alone beneath the bleachers. He greeted me with a nod, standing with his hands in his pockets, wearing a sweater that molded over his slumped shoulders.
“Yeah, I figured you’d come lookin’ for me. Nice flower.”
My fingertips brushed over the velvety petals. I’d already grown used to the weight and tinkling sound the ornaments made, so I’d forgotten I wore it. My mind was cluttered, confused. What do I say first? “Lewis—”
“I didn’t tell him.” His eyes cut away from me, and their redness cut me to the quick. “I had the words memorized. Everything I meant to say. Then I couldn’t. It would hurt you, me, him, all of us. I’ll be okay.”
“I’m sorry.” Air whooshed out of my lungs. I flung my arms around him in a giant hug. His arm slid around my back awkwardly. I might’ve felt his slight hug in return, his chin touching the crown of my head for the briefest of moments before he backed away.
I held fast to his arm, not ready to let him go for fear he might disappear back into the crowd above. “Lewis, my mom’s in danger. I need your help. Please! Come with me to find Geoff.”
“Wh-What? Hold it. What’s going on?” He frowned, refusing to budge. “Geoff’s posing for the newspaper photographer with the rest of the court.”
I couldn’t help Mom without Lewis and his boat. “Please. I’ll tell you if you just come on.”
Tugging Lewis along at first, I led him from beneath the bleachers, explaining as we went. My panic soon spread to him, and he quickened his pace to match mine, following me to the gate by the field. A group of cheerleaders had assembled by the fence away from the court and flashing cameras. Along with the Titan warrior mascot, they were turned with their backs to the crowd, laughing hysterically at something.
“Watch out.” Lewis pulled me aside as two uniformed security officers followed us onto the field and headed for the laughing cheerleaders.
“What’s that about?” I mumbled, spotting Geoff a few yards away, waiting in line for the photographer. My heart jumped with relief. We walked in his direction.
Lewis shrugged. “Some crazy dude. He was hollering from the stands. Said he could teach the cheerleaders how to dance on cardboard.” He chuckled.
Oh, no!
I turned around. The security guards pulled a man from the ground, dragging a flattened box along with him. I recognized the red jogging suit I’d given him for Christmas last year when he’d wanted to start training for marathons. He’d thought he’d be able to enter the Ironman in Hawaii by the next year, although he smoked a pack a day and hadn’t ever used the gym membership Mom bought him.
Dad clambered to his feet, arms locked in the grips of the two guards as he argued. He was off his meds again.
The guards would probably usher him out with some strong words of warning or a few laughs. Meanwhile, Dad would continue to babble and complain, taunting them, and they would ignore him. Or they might take the verbal jabs personally and clamp on the steel bracelets for a night at the jail.
My father hadn’t seen me. I could avoid him, get to Geoff, make a break for Lewis’s boat, and hopefully catch up with Mom and Ben before anything bad happened. But as much as I wanted to ignore the man, he was my dad.
My gaze scanned the full bleachers above. So many spectators, so many eyes watching. Classmates, teachers, new friends.
Buh-bye, reputation!
Lewis kept walking, calling to Geoff, but I went the opposite way. I rushed to stop the guards as they hustled Dad through the gate we’d just come through.
“Guys, he’s with me. I’ll make sure he leaves the field.”
Flanked by the cops, Dad didn’t greet me with his usual warm smile, but his wild eyes focused on me. He rose up, standing straighter on his own. “Hey, baby girl.”
“Hey, Dad. You made it.” I smiled and gave the men a wink.
They exchanged a wary glance, reluctant to let go.
“I was about to show them how we danced at halftime when I was in school.”
“Maybe another time, Dad.” I took one of his hands in mine and explained to the officers in a calm voice, “He’s driven hours from Atlanta to see me. I want him to meet someone, and then we’ll head out of here. Okay?”
One of the officers nodded, releasing Dad’s arm. The other guy nodded and gave me a sympathetic little smile before letting go.
Dad smoothed his rumpled red suit.
We must’ve made the odd pair, with him dressed for a jog and me in an LBD and pumps. I felt a million eyes on me, could nearly hear the tongues wagging. Chelsea Rodgers’s dad is a loon! Still, I held my head high and marched him along the sidelines to where Geoff and Lewis waited apart from the homecoming court.
“You look beautiful, baby girl.” Dad patted my arm affectionately, pride shining in his dark eyes.
“Thanks.” I swallowed hard and forced my gaze to meet Geoff’s.
He stood by Lewis with a concerned expression in his eyes. His dark hair swept back off his brow, and his black suit was fitted and oh-so-sexy.
My tongue felt thick. I had no words.
Pink rose to his cheeks and the tips of his ears as he stood staring at me in the awkward moment. “Chelsea,” he purred. “I see you got the flower. I hope it’s not too much?” The corner of his mouth lifted in a self-deprecating smile. “The smaller one was pretty, too, but I wanted you to have the biggest one.”
“Thank you. I love it, Geoff.” I touched my heart.
His gaze floated down my length. “You look—”
I cleared my throat. “Geoff, this is my dad.”
Geoff’s gaze broke away from me for the first time and drifted to my father, jiggling on his feet since the medicine had worn off and his body attempted to stabilize in its own odd way. My heart squeezed, waiting for Geoff’s reaction, dreading the expression that would follow. Would it be disgust? Humor?
Horror?
Geoff took a step forward and extended his hand with a polite smile. “Sir.”
“Reed Rodgers. Pleased to meet you.” Dad took his hand, and his gaze held the heavy silver band Geoff wore. “What’s that? A skull?” Dad’s brows flew together.
“Dad!”
I introduced Lewis next.
“Are you gonna tell them what’s goin’ on, or am I?” After shaking my dad’s hand, Lewis crossed his arms over his chest.
No way to avoid it. I blurted out everything. “That thing—the hag—it’s in Mom. Ben’s taking her to Bandunchuch, but he can’t! He doesn’t believe me. I know that thing can’t swim. It wants to go there, though, and I don’t know why.”
Geoff rubbed his temple with his thumb.
“What’s this about Lori?” Dad whispered.
“I’ll tell you in the car.”
“Hold on a sec.” Geoff left us, headed for the line of people waiting to get their pictures made. He stopped beside Tiffany and dropped a hand on her shoulder. I caught the word “jitters.” Whatever else he said to her made her face crumble, then go murderous as her gaze cut to me.
Geoff then hurried back to my side and thumped Lewis’s arm. “Need your boat again, mate.”