29
Rayne
Messages Left Behind
T hankfully, Doctor Hale was willing to make a house visit, despite the forecast threatening snow and wind by nightfall.
The woman was tenacious, and not one for small talk, which was part of why we got along so well.
She administered a tetanus shot, cleaned and bandaged Salem’s foot, and was off again within an hour.
“What would we do without you, Tasha?” I said as I paid her and walked her to the door.
She gave a boisterous laugh. “Be dead and buried, no doubt. Don’t we have enough to worry about without your girlfriend stepping on nails?
” But she embraced me, patting the back of my head in such a way that emotion welled up in my chest, though I didn’t let it show.
“Take care, hon. Keep an eye on that woman, she’ll be trouble for you. ”
She gave me a wink as she left, and I knew she was right. But Salem was exactly the kind of trouble I wanted.
Returning to my bedroom, I found Salem wrapped in blankets on my bed, her bandaged foot elevated on a couple pillows.
She was smoking a joint, and although the window was cracked open, the sour scent wafted around the room and almost immediately soothed me.
I’d enjoyed the scent of marijuana for years, probably because it was the one thing that could consistently calm me down.
“How are you feeling, pretty girl?” I said, sitting on the bed beside her.
She gave me a silly, sleepy smile. “Considering I’ve almost died twice in as many days? Pretty good. It could have been a lot worse...” Her voice, and smile, slowly faded away. “Do you think it’ll come back?”
I stared out the window, the first fluttering flakes of snow just beginning to fall.
The beast had burrowed under the fence, avoiding the lights and the razor wire.
It could get anywhere on the property at will, I had no way to prevent it.
This island was its domain, and we were all trapped within it.
“I shot it a few times,” I said slowly. “I... hope... that slows it down for a few days. I’m going to destroy the stone house, collapse it. That should plug up the burrow beneath it.”
By the way she looked at me, I knew we were both thinking the same thing: It would keep digging. Keep hunting. Keep pursuing.
I took her hand, holding it tight. “While you rest, I’m going to board up the windows downstairs.”
“What about the tapes?” she said. We both glanced toward the moldy shoebox sitting on my desk. “What do you think is on them?”
I was trying not to think about it, but simply having the box in here made me feel strange.
As if it was watching me.
“Mom had a camcorder,” I said. “I think it was hers. Whatever is on the tapes...”
I had to watch them, I had to know. The feeling I got when I imagined seeing my mother’s face again was impossible to describe, and uncomfortable as hell.
“They could just be home movies,” I said. “But I don’t know why my dad would hide them in a cellar I didn’t even know existed. And Mom was buried in that coat.” The coat that now hung on my doorknob, stiff, stained, and tattered. “That’s what he told me. It doesn’t make sense. None of it.”
Salem offered the joint, and I took it gratefully.
She squeezed my hand and then brought it up to her mouth to kiss the back of it.
That simple touch meant more to me than she could possibly understand.
She didn’t know how many weeks, how many months , I often went without even touching another person, let alone embracing them.
Even when I did get the physical contact I craved, it was usually through sex with a stranger, hot and heavy, over too soon.
I felt pathetic for being so comforted by her slightest touch.
It took hours to barricade the windows downstairs. Loki was on high alert, following along behind me and constantly sniffing the air. I knew he would warn me if it came close again. The snow kept falling, my work illuminated by the floodlights fending off the encroaching night.
My entire body ached by the time I was done, my hands scratched, bruised, and numb from the cold. I sighed in relief when I was finally able to shut and lock the house’s thick front door behind me.
I made dinner for Salem and me, canned soup and buttered bread, and took it up to her in bed. I found her sitting at my desk with the old box open, inspecting the tapes inside.
“I’m so curious,” she said. “Why would he hide these?”
A combination of dread and resignation made my stomach feel like it was caving in on itself. The same question was on my mind too.
“Only one way to find out,” I said.
It took some searching, but I eventually found the VHS-C adapter tape and an old VCR stored away in the attic. I set it up in my bedroom; after fiddling with and cursing at the ancient technology for nearly an hour, I got it to work.
There were six tapes in the box, each with a label, the writing on them too smeared to make out. I inserted one at random, trying to keep my breathing steady and my heart calm.
The sound was warped as the video began to play. It was the beach near the docks, on a rare sunny day. The recording shuddered, lines darting across the screen as it came back into focus.
It was me. Running through the waves, splashing, squealing. Picking up smooth pebbles and hurling them into the ocean. I couldn’t have been more than four years old.
“Rayne! Be careful, little love!”
Even warped as it was, my mother’s voice made my heart come to a stop. The camera was set down, slightly off-kilter, and my mom came into the frame. She took my hands, twirling with me through the waves, dancing and laughing.
It was only a couple of minutes before the tape ended, leaving me staring back at my own blank expression as the screen went dark.
“Rayne?” Salem touched my shoulder, and I remembered to breathe again.
It had been so long. So painfully long since I’d heard her say my name.
Rayne.
I flinched, causing Salem to flinch too. That voice echoing in my head, dark, bitter, and cold, was too familiar.
Salem followed my suspicious gaze toward my closed bedroom door. As we sat in silence, Loki raised his head and stared too, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
Footsteps creaked past the door, and Salem looked at me with wide eyes.
“Is that her?” she whispered. “The footsteps... is it...?”
I didn’t take my eyes off the door until nearly a minute had passed without a sound.
“It’s whatever is left of her,” I said. “Her ghost, her... shadow, maybe. I don’t know.
I don’t know what she’s become.” That thing had none of my mother’s love, none of her kindness, her warmth, her gentleness.
“She died horribly. She suffered. It’s too cruel to think that after all that, she can’t even rest. And the things it says.
.. horrible things. I try not to listen. ”
Selecting a tape, I inserted it into the VCR and pressed play.
It was jarring when my mother’s face filled the screen again.
She was in her bedroom: the one that used to be upstairs, in the attic.
With its window looking out upon the sea and the lighthouse.
Mom used to say it was her nightlight, and the foghorn her lullaby.
Back then, the room was bright and clean. A green blanket covered her bed. It wasn’t until I reached my teenage years that I realized it was strange how separated my parents’ lives were. They lived in the same house, but beyond that, it was a wonder I’d been born at all.
I’d heard the rumors the pregnancy was accidental, a result of my father’s “indiscretion” during a trip to Canada. Some said he only married her, only brought her here, to make right his sinful mistake.
I sometimes wondered if she had wanted to come at all. If she’d truly had a choice.
My mom smiled, waving at the camera. “Hi, Aunt Sophia! I hope you and the kids are doing well. It’s been way too long since we had a visit. I’ve been meaning to write, but um...”
She stopped abruptly, turned, and stared at her closed door. Several seconds passed.
“Picard? Is that you, dear?” she said, a high-pitched note of uncertainty in her voice.
There was no response to be heard. She slowly turned back to the camera.
“Anyway. I really do hope we can have a visit soon. I’m going to send you a phone number where you can reach me.
The phones on this island are always going out.
” She laughed awkwardly, and I paused the tape.
“That’s not true,” I said softly. “Dad always had a connected phone in the house, and the church. He was paranoid about it.”
“Why would she lie?” Salem said.
Pressing play once more, I stayed quiet.
“I might, um... I might need some money. For the visit.” Mom wasn’t looking at the camera anymore, but at the floor, off to the side.
She wrung her hands in her lap. “For Rayne too, for her to come along, she would love to see you and meet her cousins. She’s lonely, you know?
There’s not many other kids around here, and any time I mention moving, well, Picard just won’t hear it.
The church is too important, he... um. ..”
Mom took a deep breath. “God, I hate saying this. We need to get out of here. Picard can’t know.
” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Something is wrong. He’s changed, he.
..” She shook her head and closed her eyes.
“He scares me. The things he talks about, the sermons he writes. He’s always angry .
The way he talks to Rayne, I just can’t stand it.
She’s only little, but he’s so hard on her.
He says children are born sinful and need to be trained out of it, and I think it’s bullshit.
No matter what I say to him, he doesn’t care.
He doesn’t listen. I’ve tried to write to you, but I think he’s.
.. watching me. I think he opens the letters. ”
My stomach lurched. I held my breath, dreading the things I felt as I watched my mother break down. Fear contorted her face. It shook her voice.
“We just need to get away for a while,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “Until he gets some help. Please call me. Please. As soon as you can.” She leaned forward, reaching for the camera, and the recording ended.