Snapdragon Book II: In the Land of the Dragon Page 14
Mattie didn’t understand it. Couldn’t they see she wanted to stay in bed? Couldn’t they see Sadie trapped, lost, forgotten down the beaten path?
Brisk cold air touched her face and arms. Someone stood by a white van at the curb with the back door open. The man was the same person she wanted Sadie to go to, the figure wearing the top hat and the long black cape. She couldn’t see his face, though. He stood by the back door of the van, gesturing her inside. Funny, she thought. His face was obscured, and all she could see was a wide, tooth-filled smile.
Mattie kicked and clawed. She screamed. People stood outside on their front lawns, eyes wide, watching.
Yes, that’s a good girl. You do that. You act like that. It’s the very thing we need.
Mattie let herself go. The figure by the van nodded a single time, the hat bending slightly forward.
The men forced her into the van. The door shut behind her. Mattie grabbed the wire mesh and rattled it, making the van shake. She shrieked and wailed, watching the people standing on their lawns. She beat at the window, making her hands bleed.
Someone laughed. No, she realized. That was only her demented laughter…
What the hell was going on? Why were they laughing at her?
Where was Sadie? Where was her little boy/girl? How she’d always wanted a little girl! How she’d been so happy when her little girl finally came into the world! Raising her, the way she’d always dreamed, the way she’d always wanted a girl to be! What a girl should be.
Sadie? Mattie called to him/her in her mind. If she spoke out loud, they’d think her mad.
Sadie didn’t answer.
The van lurched forward, the houses disappearing, growing smaller from out the mesh-covered window. The figure in the top hat stood in the middle of the street, watching. He nodded in her direction as the van drove away. A large black spider crawled across the window.
If she could get out, she’d kill them all! If it was the last thing she did! Just let her out of the van for a minute, a second! She’d kill them all!
You don’t have to be afraid.
Who was that? A sharpened figure, a distinct personage whispering in her ear? The man in the hat? How come she couldn’t see his face?
Where it’s colder is where you’ll be happiest. There’s a nice warm bed for you to sleep in, in the cold…far underground. No need to be afraid. Just take my hand. The wind is cold. And so is the bed you’ll be sleeping in.
Did I say it was warm? Sorry.
Yes, it is cold. Like my hands. It is that cold.
Mattie McCall reached out. She ignored the moving vehicle, her Sadie gone. She was concerned only with the hand reaching out, the elegant, distinguished thing somehow, now, in the van with her.
The man had been right. His hands were cold. Deathly cold.
Mattie put her hand into the confines of the grave, and the world disappeared. She was no longer in the van but standing—or lying—on freshly dug earth. She could smell freshly dug earth.
The hand (bones) gripped Mattie tightly and pulled her into the darkness.
iii
Masie Auburn hadn’t called Rudy McCall as she’d promised. Almost a month had gone by since Seth’s disappearance, and there was still no word. The worst of her fears—and her mother’s—had come true. Seth was gone. He was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. Combing the meadow even the hills and mountains hadn’t produced a thing. There had been no sign of any of them. The sheriff, half the town, had been out for weeks, and no one had found a thing. Wasn’t no news good news?
Still, fear gripped Masie’s heart.
They didn’t find any bodies. They haven’t found any bodies.
This was a good sign, she told herself.
Not home…Seth.
Not home.
She hated the way it sounded. Imagining life without her little brother was simply impossible. She refused to accept it.
Waking up to face each new day…it was like walking a tight rope. She hadn’t been sleeping well, either.
Seth is gone, and he’s never coming back.
The reality of that statement was enough to make her crack. She cried for hours on end, rocking back and forth, holding onto herself.
Her mother had taken several days off from work. Now, she was back at the restaurant. Masie didn’t like being in the house by herself. School was in session again, but only for a short time. Classrooms were noticeably empty and quieter. Not many showed up at school, including her. Funny, Masie thought. Her mother didn’t seem overly worried about it, either. Some of the residents of Ellishome, she noticed, were moving out of town now, too. The place was becoming a graveyard. Rheanna and Jeanie called, stopped by, and voiced their concerns, but things just weren’t the same without Seth and his friends.
The weather grew colder. Even in the house, despite the heat being on, Masie couldn’t get warm.
She stood up from the couch and went to her bedroom to grab a sweater. She’d been watching The King of Queens, but it just wasn’t funny to her.
Masie opened the closet door, stepped back, and let out a scream.
Hiking boots dripped lone tendrils of blood, hovering several inches off the floor. A noose disappeared into the darkness. Seth turned slowly, making the rope creak. He was wearing a red coat, long pants, eyes puffed shut. His hair was longer. Black widows scurried here and there over his face. They plopped onto the floor.
Masie screamed again.
She stared, wide-eyed, and shook her head back and forth. Tears sprang to her eyes. For a second, it seemed her heart had stopped, her scream echoing through the house. She clenched her eyes shut.
Just an illusion.
She knew it was an illusion, her mind playing tricks on her, but when she opened her eyes, her dead brother was still hanging in the closet.
Masie slammed the door, putting her hands to her face, and wept uncontrollably.
Not real, oh please God, she thought. Not real.
Masie couldn’t breathe. She gasped for air.
Even the clothes he wore…hiking boots, a winter coat, his hair longer, greasier, more rugged. The lingering aromas of sweat, the outdoors, and campfire smoke, moved toward her.
She had to get out of the house! Her hands were trembling, body shaking.
Even though she told herself she was hallucinating, she knew this image—her dead brother in the closet—was a false one.
The thought did not prevent cold evil from wrapping around the base of her skull, however.
She had officially cracked.
iv
A once bright and ebullient Masie Auburn allowed the torrents of the real world to swallow her. Life became a maelstrom. She’d told Rudy the same thing. She would crack, and she would be damn scared when she did.
It has nothing to do with being stable or unstable. It has to do with what you saw. You’re little brother hanged himself before the journey started. You’re little brother is already dead. Welcome to the Land of the Dragon.
The thought was from another source.
The image was still vivid in her mind, however; Masie knew Seth had hanged himself before their journey began. Somehow, she had only noticed his body until now.
You would’ve smelled it. You would’ve smelled it. That’s why you know it’s not real.
Masie shook her head. Tears came into her eyes again.
Just remember…they found Sadie pretty fast. They’re out there, doing whatever they can. Seth and his friends have to be alive! They haven’t found anything yet.
She hated this, also, the constant waiting…
We found them. We’re sorry. They’re…
She forced the thought out of her mind.
Summer was officially gone. Autumn had come, and with it, the cold. The leaves had changed, falling across every street and lawn. A light rain dampened the ground, but there was still no sign of snow.
Rudy, she thought.
It was the least she could do, since he’d paid a visit weeks ago. She would just le
t him know she was okay, still breathing, still thinking about him…
But you’re not okay. That’s why you’re going to call him because you’re not okay.
Anything to get out of the house…
Masie shuddered and closed her eyes.
Blood dripping from Seth’s boots…
She concentrated on Rudy, how considerate he’d been.
Spiders crawling across his face…
She owed him a phone call. She wanted him here with her in the house now, his companionship. She needed him.
The last month had consumed her. Masie had been walking around like a robot, forcing herself not to feel. She recalled a night a week ago when she’d gone out with Rheanna and Jeanie. It was amazing how all the jocular energy had vanished with Seth and his friends’ disappearance.
“I just can’t believe how we got to meet all those kids,” Jeanie had said. “And then…just like that…they’re gone.”
Rheanna was silent, shaking her head.
They talked, endeavoring to lift one-another’s spirits, but it was hard.
“God,” Masie said, sitting on the couch, her head in her hands. “What’s happening around here?”
When she finally got the nerve, Masie stood up, and decided to phone Rudy.
v
At the MacKay residence, the silence was maddening. Sometimes the television or radio would blare—petty distractions, which annoyed more than abated the lunacy. When the television or stereo was finally silenced, it was enough to drive Justin and Mick MacKay into madness. Words were empty. The blaring stereo, the radio on, were simply remedies to avoid the inevitable, crushing silence. That crushing silence was a weight seeming to sit on the roof of the house like a giant boulder, and it was only a matter of time before it fell through.
Mick sat on the couch, staring into space, wondering what had happened to their daughter, what had happened to their lives. They’d stepped into a mystical world, an apparent time warp. Mars was ruling Saturn, something about Jupiter and Venus maybe, whatever the hell they were talking about these days.
Mick and Justin’s lives were over…their marriage was over. Maybe that was some sort of consolation, and without either to hold it together—and without Kinsey to lighten the atmosphere—it was a weight neither wanted to bear.
Mick (short for Michalina) would’ve felt better dealing with Kinsey’s absence on her own. If she could get away, if only for a while, this madness would disappear. She could stay in a hotel for the night, have Justin call if he heard anything. That was better than this, wasn’t it? Weren’t they only making life more difficult for the other?
The door to the garage opened. She could hear it from the kitchen. Mick closed her eyes. What torture would it be today, what accusatory glance or phrase?
What she had to remember, she kept telling herself, was that Kinsey was his daughter, too.
The pain was visible in the lines around Justin’s eyes, the constant sleepless nights, the agonizing worry. Divorce was inevitable, and the thought of having Kinsey choose between them made Mick ill.
She couldn’t worry about any of that now, however. She had to get away, just for a little while. She had to get away despite how bad Justin might make her feel.
He came in from the kitchen, wearing gray sweat pants and a black shirt, his long dark hair in a ponytail, skin pale and ghostly. His eyes looked haunted, too, lost. “Can I get you anything?” he asked, his voice tense, strained.
Did it hurt to even acknowledge her, she thought?
Mick looked at him and wondered what had changed them. Her eyes went to a smiling, happy picture of them camping with Kinsey in Idaho at Red Fish Lake. The picture was on the shelf above the fireplace, a picture of the perfect family being all they could manage. It made Mick want to laugh, looking at it now.
“Justin?” she said. “Do you mind if I go to a hotel or something? Just for the night? Maybe two? I can’t handle this right now. Kinsey gone. Me and you. It’s about all I can take.”
He nodded, eyes focusing on something on the floor. He took a deep breath. “I feel it, too,” he said, as if Mick were unsure he was hurting as well. “And no, I don’t care.” He was more considerate with his words. “Just leave me a number where you’ll be…in case I hear anything.”
Justin paused for a minute, trying to say something, and realized there was nothing left to say. Dark, not he himself, but everything about him. His long, black hair tied back, his eyes…
He would’ve made a cute vampire, Mick thought, and smiled.
“Something funny?” he asked, frowning.
Mick looked at Justin. She, too, could feel the dejection weighing heavily upon him. She looked at her hands lying dead in her lap. “No,” she said, truthfully. “I was just thinking how…”
She trailed off, leaving it alone. He did, too, apparently, because he turned and walked away, not believing.
I love you, she thought. Really, I do. I care about us. About our little girl. They haven’t found her, you know? That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. It doesn’t.
Mick MacKay stood up and began gathering her things: purse, shoes, an overnight bag. She silently thanked Justin for not making it more difficult.
vi
“Mase?”
“Hi.”
“It’s good to hear from you.”
“Sorry I haven’t called.”
“Don’t worry about it. You okay?”
“Sure,” she told him.
A long silence passed.
“Are you?” she asked.
She virtually saw him nodding on the other end of the phone, but he couldn’t say yes. Or maybe he was shaking his head.
“Yes,” he said.
Wanting to make her laugh, another long silence passed between them.
“Really,” Rudy said, trying to convince her, as if he could hear her thoughts. “It’s…Mom. She…they came and got her today….just like the ditty.” Strangely, and completely out of character, he mimed, “‘They’re coming to take me away…he he…ho ho.’ You know?”
The eeriness sent a chill down Masie’s spine. She thought of her brother hanging in the closet. “Oh, my God! Rudy. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Mase. Things are just sort of…surreal right now. Like a bad dream. I feel like someone punched me in the gut, and I’m just hovering through space or something.”
“Can I see you?” she said, hurriedly. She realized how desperate both of them were. “If you don’t, I understand, but…I would really like to see you today…if I could.”
Masie knew how she sounded, but didn’t care. She waited after the long silence.
“Honesty,” he said. “I’m tired of being here, too. Maybe Dad’ll let me borrow the car, and we can go do something. It’s pretty cold out. And I don’t think he’d mind. He’s been trying to get me out of the house anyway. He says I’m moping.”
“That would be great if you can borrow the car,” she said.
“Give me a half hour or so,” he told her.
“Make it sooner,” she said.
vii
In the home of the Higglesbys, Bartholomew Tuttles Higglesby, was sonorous in the chair. He stirred, waking, much to everyone’s chagrin. He was a short, stocky man with the attributes of an angry troll. Today was College Gameday, and he was watching the Cornhuskers pummel the pants off Virginia Tech. The Cornhuskers were up by some ridiculous margin: four-hundred points or so, Bartholomew thought. He waited for Sundays anyway, when the big boys played. Pro football was his only interest. Leave the television on, bring him his dinner in the chair, and keep the refrigerator stocked with ice cold beer. At the rate he was going, he’d have to make another run to the liquor store.
The first thought (when he awoke) was how far ahead the Cornhuskers were; the second had to do with the beer. His third thought was about his ten-year-old boy.
“That boy come home yet!” he bellowed from the front room.
In the kitchen, Jane Higgl
esby, jumped almost a foot in the air. Her heart leapt into her throat at the same time. She was a nervous woman by nature, and her husband only made it worse. Bartholomew frightened her, and he frightened the children. On College Gameday, she and the kids made appetizers. It was a ritual, at least when Eddie was home, and it was a good enough reason to stay out of the living room, away from the sonorous troll. Let him have his College Gameday, his football, his Sundays, his Super Bowl. Just keep him quiet, Jane thought, and the kids seemed to agree.
Jane was in the kitchen with her other two children, Elise and Dennis. Dennis would be graduating at the end of the year. He was still going to school, despite his missing sibling. Elise as well. She was a freshman. The kids had—much to their relief—inherited more of the Asian characteristics as their mother, Jane: beautiful, raven-black hair, fair skin, and dark eyes.
Elise had done the same frightened jerk as her mother when Bartholomew bellowed from his chair. Dennis did not move or jerk in the slightest. He was used to this, like a stone. He’d acquired the sense to sniff out his father’s barks of intrusion. He knew when they were coming, and Dennis was immune. He despised his father, but Dennis could ignore him easily enough. Jane had built the same immunity years ago. She was more tolerant than Dennis, but she was still frightened. Elise looked as if she were waiting for the same blow; she did not display the same stoicism as Dennis.
Bartholomew Tuttles kept his family on eggshells.
“No!” Jane called from the kitchen, feeling a headache coming on. She was short, lithe, and pretty. She had worry lines around her eyes because of the storm cloud in the living room, and she had begun to gray. Jane looked easily breakable…or about to break any minute.
“Didn’t you answer me?” Bartholomew bellowed.
“I said, no!” Jane shot back. “No, he hasn’t come home yet! No, we haven’t heard anything!”
“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Bartholomew said, from the living room.
The recliner made a creaking sound as he got up. Jane, Dennis, and Elise stopped and listened to his tread across the carpet.