Pocket Full of Teeth, page 24
After a few moments, the light changed. The sky changed. The brightness from the clouds faded, and a blue quality took over the light, almost like sadness. Instead of that glorious magic from before, it was a solitary light that hurt the soul. The one that reminded me of how alone I truly was. How could light change so fast?
Then I heard a truck door slam, and I knew Ray was home.
He stumbled inside, clearly intoxicated, and he smirked when he saw me. “Big New Year’s plans?” He asked in mock interest.
I didn’t answer, and he threw his coat across the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “I’m headed up to change.”
“Want dinner? I was thinkin’ of making a casserole or something?” He made a face, but I continued, “Liz has this great recipe that uses winter squash, so it’ll be fresh —”
“Honey, I wouldn’t eat anything you touched if you paid me. I don’t know what when on in that garden, but count me out. Anyway, I won’t be long.”
I didn’t respond and listened to his heavy feet move upstairs to the main bathroom upstairs. After a few minutes, I could hear water running through the pipes, and I turned to walk down the hall when I saw a figure appear through the frosted glass of the front door.
I stopped, heart in my throat, and crept down the hall as the dark figure wavered on the doorstep. Was it Mama? The creeping woman?
I tiptoed closer and wrenched open the door, determined to reveal whoever was creeping about when I stepped back in surprise. It was Liz.
She stood there, shifting from foot to foot, looking embarrassed.
“Sorry to show up like this,” she started, but when she opened her mouth again, she couldn’t find the words.
“Come in.” I motioned, and she smiled.
We sat in the kitchen as we waited for the water in the kettle to boil.
“I’ve missed you at the cafe,” she said. “It hasn’t been the same without you. Even Owen was asking about you.”
I gave a sad smile.
“I’ve been worried about you.” She paused and added, “We all have.” She leaned closer and took my hand. “I know it’s been hard, and I know that none of us have any idea of exactly how hard it’s been, but I’m always here,” she said as she squeezed my hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Liz leaned forward and brought her face closer, gently pressing her nose to mine.
“You promise?” I asked.
She nodded, and her lips pulled me forward like a magnet.
“And you won’t leave me?” I asked, our lips almost touching.
She shook her head, and I closed the distance between us, our foreheads touching.
“I love you, Cat,” she whispered.
“I love you, too,” I returned, but before either of us could move, the tea kettle whistled. When we drew back, Ray was standing squarely in the doorway.
We separated, and I picked up the kettle and poured the steaming water over the tea bags as Ray sauntered into the kitchen, toweling his hair as he walked.
“Well, well, well,” he laughed. “My little niece.” He turned around to look at us both. “I had no idea.”
Liz blushed and cleared her throat but didn’t respond.
“I’d always had my suspicions about Cat, don’t get me wrong, but I never suspected you.” He gave a cruel laugh.
“Leave her alone, Ray,” I shot.
He put his hands up in defense. “I’m not judging.” He looked out at the bare gardens in the backyard. “But if your mother knew, she’d be rollin’ over in her grave.”
“Don’t talk about my mom,” Liz warned.
“Testy. Testy,” he called out. “I’m just bein’ honest.” He continued to look out the window at the backyard, pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, “Oh, I saw that man downtown…”
Neither of us responded.
He blew a stream of white smoke that ran up the window and disappeared near the ceiling, “you know, that agent guy or whatever.” He waved his fingers through the air, and his cigarette dropped ash to the floor. “He said the strangest thing to me. He said he’d been workin’ on something with you, some art inspired by some cursed girl… a haunted girl. Isn’t that somethin’?”
I let the words settle around me and looked over at Liz who turned an even deeper shade of red. “Cat, it’s not like that, I —”
“That’s not what that agent man said. Said you talked about a woman who died under strange circumstances and the cursed girl she left behind. Said you wanted her to be your… muse, is it?”
“No,” Liz shook her head, panic filled her eyes from the bottom up, like a flooded room gulping water.
“That’s not what —” She started to say, but I interrupted.
“Is true?” I whispered, and she took a step back, mouth open, searching for words that wouldn’t come. “I was just your muse?”
“No.” She tried to step forward, but she still wasn’t able to find the words.
“I was some art project?” I asked. “This whole time.”
Her mouth moved, but again no words came out. Ray chuckled. “Looks like it, sweet daughter of mine.” He leaned in on the word daughter, and I cringed.
“Cat, I —” She started. “I moved back because my art wasn’t working out. And then when I saw you in the cafe, I thought about your mom and everything that you’d been through, and that night I started painting, real painting about real things, you know?”
My heart started to break, slicing into a million tiny fragments.
“I’d been experimenting with blue dyes, and after I saw you, it was like something clicked. I sent my art to my agent, and it sold the next day. That’s how he found me. That’s why he showed up at the cafe. He wanted more.”
“Your contract,” I said deliberately.
She nodded. “I had to pay back the advances, and then I started to turn a profit. A profit,” she gushed, and I couldn’t even look at her. “Do you know how hard it had been? And then suddenly, when you come in, I felt this spark —”
“Spark,” I repeated.
“Art was flowing out of me, and business picked up at the cafe.” She must have seen my face because her voice softened. “But then I got to know you.”
I let out a sad laugh and rolled my eyes. So that’s how Josh knew me. He’d asked if I was that girl, and I thought he meant the girl with the dead mama, but that wasn’t quite right. I was the girl with the dead mama who was being used by Liz.
“It’s true, Cat. I got to know you, and you were so wonderful.”
“Please don’t,” I started, but she stepped forward, and I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand being touched by her, being pitied by her, so I stepped back.
“I mean it,” she said, and I looked at her, really looked at her, and I saw the desperation in her eyes. She needed me to believe her. But why? To make more art? This whole time, she really had me fooled… I couldn’t be a fool anymore.
“I think you should leave,” I said, lowering my gaze. I heard her take a breath and step back. Then she did the thing that hurt the most. She turned around and left.
So, it was true. She’d been using me the whole time.
From the kitchen door, I looked down the hall and watched her walk to her bike and disappear down the mountain.
TRANSCRIPT
Interview with Eddy Sparrow
12:23 a.m. April 28th, 2021
Case No. HI30823
Sure.
Did I stop by my old house?
Well, I was in the area, so I might have driven by.
It looked different, ya know? I didn’t know if Penny was there or not, but Stephen had painted and redone the front garden beds. It looked horrible.
I didn’t stay long. Like I said, it was more of a drive-by.
No, I didn’t see him.
Let’s see, I made it to the Marathon gas station that Cat must have stopped at that first night she came back to town. Maybe it was five or so. The sun was gettin kinda low.
I went inside, eager to see that snaggle-toothed woman, but a young man was there. He was pale and bored, and he took my money with a frown.
It was cold, and the town was totally different than I’d imagined. It was completely redone. The sloping houses that Cat described were replaced by gated subdivisions and manicured hedges, a new Target and Starbucks had gone up, a few micro-breweries, a Mexican restaurant, a wine bar, an ice cream shop, even an axe-throwing place.
Yeah, I know.
Everything looked new and polished, but I knew it was hiding a town with so many stories from the past — not just the Saunders’ history, but hundreds of other histories all stacked on one another. I wasn’t worried about all the other stories. I was worried about Cat, and I had to get to her.
I don’t know what that means. I just felt like something was calling me there, like there was this clock ticking.
I mean, maybe it had to do with the fact that I’d gone through so much and time seemed extra short after Mom passed away, but I just had this feeling that I had to get there.
And that’s not the crazy part. I took this manuscript with me. It sat on the front seat, and it was like it was whispering hurry, hurry, hurry, the entire time.
Well, I made it to Blood Mountain right at sundown. I followed the driveway all the way to the top, and when I got out, a gust of wind blew through the car and sent pages flying so that this page was on top.
I read it — the part about it bein’ just Cat and Ray in the house — and I had this bad feeling.
I didn’t know what I could do. I mean, Cat’s story happened years before, and the house had since been torn down. I grabbed the manuscript, my bag, and my phone and had to step over some of the brick from the foundation but stopped short.
Roses.
They were still there.
I know. I picked through the rows. They were overgrown and tangled in places, bald in others, and I tried to make out a path, but the light was growing dim, and in all my wildest dreams, I never thought about the house as real, but there it was, right in front of me.
What happened next? Well, I had that feeling of being watched again like I had at home. Tryna get away, I stepped into the maze, desperate to find any clue to what happened to Cat and where she might have gone.
The dark crept in faster than I expected — you know how it is on the mountain —
Yeah, spooky, especially at night, and I had to feel my way through the maze. Even with my flashlight, it was hard to see.
I tried to orient myself, but I didn’t see anything that I could recognize. Instead, I looked down at Cat’s manuscript again. I thought maybe she’d give me a clue about what to do next.
You’ll see. Let me top off your cup again, and I’ll keep reading.
I went into the kitchen and picked up my tea, but it was still too hot to drink. “What’d you have to go and do that for, Ray?”
He shrugged and moved into the formal dining room, opening the China cabinet and thumbing through the plates. “Anything in here worth money?” He asked, and my skin crawled.
“It’s not yours, Ray,” I answered. “And you don’t have to be such an asshole.”
“I just thought you should know,” he shrugged. “Anyway, this stuff is just sittin’ in here rottin’ so we might as well —”
The kitchen phone rang, interrupting him. I turned and picked it up with a grunt. “Hello?”
“Cat?” The voice sang.
“Hey, Marianne,” I returned, and Ray made a noise from the dining room.
“Well, I was just calling to check on you. I haven’t seen you down at the cafe this week, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
She paused.
“I’m fine, Marianne. I was just… under the weather.”
As soon as I said it, I knew it was a mistake. I heard her sharp intake of breath, her worry wormed its way through the phone.
“Under the weather?” She repeated, and I realized that that’s what Mama used to call it when she got a case of the Octobers. Under the weather didn’t mean the same thing it did with other people. Under the weather meant depression. Under the weather meant something serious. Under the weather meant trouble.
“No, nothing like that,” I tried to explain. “It was a little cold, that’s all. I’m feeling much better, though.”
“Oh,” she said, but I still heard the worry in her voice. “You know, if you need anything, I’m always here. I could send over some soup or somethin’, if you need.”
“Marianne, I’m fine.” I paused, pictured the concern on her face, and smiled. “Thanks for calling, though. It means a lot.”
“Of course,” she sang in her normal voice.
“As you always say, we’re like family, and family’s the most important thing there is.”
I felt my words travel through the receiver, across town on black static-filled wires, and to her ear pressed to the phone. She paused, and I could tell she was trying to figure out how much I knew before I added, “I know it would have meant a lot to Mama, too.”
“Yes,” her voice wavered slightly, and I could tell that she missed Mama almost as much as I did. “I sure hope so.”
“Hey, I’m leaving for Brown in a few days, and I’d like to see you before I leave.”
“That sounds great,” she said. “And remember, I’m always here if you need me. You sure you don’t need some soup because I could —”
“I’m okay, Marianne,” I laughed.
“All right, just checkin’. I’ll see you soon for that coffee.”
I hung up the phone and smiled. It would be nice to catch up with her, to tell her everything I knew, and Liz would be there the whole time if I needed anything. I knew she would.
Ray sauntered into the room, not giving up on the stump of his cigarette. “That Marianne’s dumber’n a bag a rocks,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.
“She’s not so dumb,” I said, finally able to pick up my tea and take a sip. “She’s the one who told me about the lawyer.”
“What lawyer?”
“That estate lawyer.”
“Sharon’s brother?” He asked, leaning in to inspect the silver.
“No. My lawyer.”
“Your —” He chuckled and stepped back, enjoying a laugh.
“It turns out that you can’t exactly have a girlfriend — much less a child — if you’re in a common law marriage. Funny, isn’t it?”
Ray stopped and peered into the kitchen, his eyes searched, and I saw a hint of desperation behind them.
“Whadduyamean?” He asked in one word.
“It’s just that common law marriages are almost exactly like traditional marriages, and judges look down on infidelity, especially when the cheating party is making a claim to assets.”
“You wouldn’t,” he started, but stopped short, and I couldn’t help the smile that hinted at the corners of my mouth.
“You little bitch,” he snarled and took a step toward me. Everything seemed to move in slow motion in his cigarette smoke.
His hands reached toward me as he lurched into the room, and I sidestepped him and stretched myself towards the door. The knob turned easily; thank goodness Ray had replaced the handle not more than a month ago. I wrenched the door open, sending a breath of cold air into the room, and I took the back steps two at a time, feeling Ray’s fingers graze the back of my sweater as I reached the grass.
I heard Ray call out and snuck a glance behind me to see that he had missed the top step and fallen headfirst onto a patch of bald dirt in the grass, smearing brown on his right cheek. He winced and shot a glare at me with his left eye.
“You aren’t taking this house, Cat. It’s mine!” He bellowed and tried to scramble to his feet but winced when he tried to put weight on his right ankle.
I turned and ran. I followed the jagged skeleton of rose stems snaking through one another. Above me, the disappearing light that had turned the sky into a rich chocolate, and I was thankful for the coming darkness, for the coming night that could conceal things; hide them from greedy hands.
I made another turn and tried to put distance between myself and Ray. I could hear his labored breath a few rows over and turned right to make my way to the other side of the maze. As long as the rose's thorns protected me, I could hide. I could stay safe.
“I can hear you, Cat.” Ray sang in a cruel voice. “You can’t hide forever.”
I turned right again and was met by a tangle of roses with a narrow sliver just big enough to squeeze through. I steadied myself and pushed through the thick thorns. I could feel the ends break off under my skin as I slid through the small space and emerged on the other side.
I made a few more turns but was met by another dead end. Turning around, I found another solid wall of stinging roses, and I realized that I was lost.
Blindly, I put my arms out in front of me and walked with one hand catching at thorns to my right.
“Please,” I breathed. “Please, help me.”
I heard the wind to my right and didn’t hesitate. I moved as silently as I could and followed the noises further into the maze. I followed the creeping footsteps for a few more turns and then burst into the center of the maze.
I’d made it.
I tried to slow my breath as I looked for someplace to hide. I had been so eager to make it to the center — what I thought of as safety — only to discover that there was nowhere to hide.
“Here, Kitty-Kitty,” Ray sang, and my chest tightened in panic.
I stepped over the half-fallen bench and gave a wide berth to where I knew the sunken well must be. “Where are you hiding, Kitty Cat,” Ray continued.
With nowhere else to go, I backed into the far corner of the courtyard and held my breath.
Ray didn’t need to announce himself. I knew he was there, just inside the courtyard, trying to be as quiet as I was. I could feel him there in the dark.
“Aw, come on out, Cat. I saw your light on, silly girl,” he sang in a tight, rough whisper that sounded like sandpaper. “Come, now. Your daddy’s not gonna hurt you. He would never,” I moved to my left, but that was just what he was waiting for: for me to move and give away my position.
