13
Sailor
Stars Don’t Talk
I LIED.
To the police.
Lily.
Jim across the fence.
Even myself.
I lied that I’d destroyed the phone when the police came to take my statement.
I lied to Lily that they’d taken it in for testing.
And I lied to Jim when he asked if everything was okay when we were out pruning the rose bushes last night.
All of them had bought my lies, but I couldn’t buy the ones I told myself.
I lay in bed for three nights, convincing myself that I would never reply to the crazy man who’d given me the phone again. It wasn’t acceptable to hand-deliver a cell phone and tell me he could be my little secret. That was wrong. Very, very wrong.
And yet…
Whenever I woke in the dead of night, all alone and curled in the corner of my bedroom—so, so sure I’d heard a key in the front door and Milton was back to finish what he started—all I had to do was look at that small black phone, and I’d find the strength to get up and check all the doors without turning on all the lights.
I took it with me that first night as I opened all the cupboards and checked behind every door. I kept it in my pocket as I painted and stared at it for hours, unable to fall asleep.
He hadn’t messaged again.
And the fact that he hadn’t slowly grew from relief into frustration.
He was the one to barge into my life.
He was the one to frighten me with his faceless forwardness.
But he’d also done something I didn’t think was possible.
He’d broken up the shadows, just a little, and I no longer felt so suffocated.
He’s watching me.
I huddled on the couch, staring at the old square television that I still needed to replace. Nana had never been one for technology unless it benefited her From Soil to Soul business, and she’d never bothered to upgrade her TV for a flatscreen.
I watched most things on my tablet, so the huge ancient box flickered in the corner, fuzzy and snowy, dancing light around the living room.
Scrolling through the message thread, I tried to make sense of why I wasn’t as bothered about the fact that he was watching me as I should have been. I didn’t know him. He could be just as dangerous as Milton…worse even.
So why did I feel protected instead of threatened?
Why did I search all the nooks and crannies of my garden to find a camera—not to remove it—but to make sure he wasn’t lying?
Ugh, this is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. Stop this nonsense right now.
His last message glowed on the screen.
X: I use it to make sure you’re safe. That’s all.
I’d lost track how many times I’d read it. Each time, I found myself losing the initial understandable reaction of feeling violated, heading toward the incomprehensible feeling of safety.
Tapping the screen to make the keyboard pop up, I hovered my thumbs in place.
Don’t you dare.
I sighed and slouched.
No, I really shouldn’t.
Glancing at the time, wincing that two a.m. had rolled around and I still wasn’t in bed, I did the adult thing and turned off the screen. Hauling myself upright, I padded barefoot toward the stairs.
I was proud of myself.
I’d withheld against growing temptation to message him for another night.
A few more days and the feeling would pass. I could throw the phone away, and life would continue as normal.
But normal sucks right now.
Gritting my teeth, I changed direction.
I stepped over the carpet where Milton had almost raped me.
The thought of going to bed—even if it was in a newly painted bedroom on a mattress on the floor instead of the room I’d shared with him—wasn’t inviting.
I knew I wouldn’t sleep.
Milton’s whispers teased on the edges of my mind. The scratchiness of my throat still tickled, and I didn’t want another nightmare so soon after the last one.
Instead of wasting the evening, I stepped through the back door, off the deck, and onto the grass.
There, I sank into a cross-legged position and stared at the stars. The glowing fairy lights in the foliage acted like earthbound celestial balls, glimmering on leaves and petals. The yin-yang fountain in the corner for the blackbirds splashed lazily, and a dog a few houses down whined to be let back in after a late-night pee.
I’m safe.
I’m fine.
So why did my eyes suddenly ache and tears start pouring against my control?
Why did they drip off my chin as I stared at the stars, begging them to unravel and fix the mess inside me? For most of the day, I could pretend I was healing. But at this time of night, in this much honesty…I couldn’t.
Burying my face in my hands, I gave in and cried for things I had no words for.
I didn’t know how much time passed, but I started to shiver in my Sailor Moon t-shirt and night shorts. I needed to go inside and crawl beneath warm cozy blankets, but…I didn’t want to move.
Perhaps I should sleep out here amongst the flowers and the insects. Maybe they’d watch over me and—
My phone buzzed quietly.
No, not my phone.
His.
X: I hate it when you cry in the moonlight.
For a second, all I could do was gawk at the words.
My head tipped up, my eyes darting in all the shadows.
H-He’s watching me right now.
Another message vibrated.
X: Whoever made you cry will never touch you again. You have my word.
My fear switched to terror. Scooting onto my knees, I went to leap to my feet, but a third message buzzed.
X: I’m only watching to keep you safe. I will never approach you. Never hurt you. You will never see me or have to pretend with me. I’m just here…with you.
Fresh tears glassed my eyesight.
I sagged back onto the lawn, cradling the phone. All the tangled mess inside me suddenly, crazily melted into…relief. It was the sweetest, sharpest relief that made no sense and made me fear for my sanity.
My thumbs stroked the screen. I wanted to reply but had no idea what to say. I wanted to know why he chose to protect me but didn’t know if I’d like the answer.
My chin tipped down as exhaustion fell over me.
A fourth message vibrated, almost as if he sensed my unwillingness, eagerness…confusion.
X: You can talk to me instead of the stars, you know. Unlike them, I can answer back.
Sighing heavily, I replied in a daze.
Me: Where are you? How can you see me?
What I really wanted to know was how close he was and how much danger I was in.
Once again, he heard what I didn’t say and sent me exactly what I needed to hear.
X: I’m far enough away that I can’t reach you if you run into the house, but I’m close enough to stop anyone from reaching you if they try to hurt you.
Me: So you’re watching me on camera?
X: I have been. But right now…no.
Climbing to my feet, I walked slowly around the riot of blooms, herbs, and fruit trees. Every alcove and branch-filled nook looked empty, but I could feel his eyes on me wherever I went.
He didn’t message me as I did a full circle of the garden. He stayed quiet as I resumed my cross-legged position in the centre of the lawn. But the moment I sucked in a big inhale and chose to accept this, no matter how stupid and crazy and wrong, my phone chirped quietly.
X: What can I say to make you trust that I will never lay a finger on you?
Rubbing at the lingering ache in my knee where Milton had kicked me, I replied: You could tell me who you are?
X: But that would defeat the purpose I’m trying to achieve .
Me: And what are you trying to achieve?
X: Honestly?
Me: Always. In fact, if I’m going to talk to you—against better judgement and sanity—then every message you ever send me better be nothing but the truth. If you ever lie to me, I’ll drop the phone off to the police, and they can deal with you.
X: You could’ve done that last time you called them. Why didn’t you?
Me: Honestly?
X: Truth goes both ways. Question is are you brave enough?
I glanced at the moon, chewing my bottom lip. God, why did this make me feel so seen, so vulnerable, so…torn open?
He was nothing but a ghost.
And I’d done my fair share of talking to ghosts lately with Nana and Pops leaving me. I’d often wished they’d reply.
Sitting a little taller, I typed: I didn’t give the police the phone because
I looked at the moon again, searching for words that could explain the strange comfort that came from having a lifeline to a faceless, nameless stranger. He wasn’t completely human to me. He could be a guardian angel or protective warrior. In the wreckage of my mind after being at the mercy of a man I’d given my body, home, and trust to—whoever X was…he was more.
As long as he abided by his own rules of never approaching me, never hurting me, then he was already ten times the man Milton ever was.
My phone buzzed.
X: If I said something wrong, forgive me. I’m not asking you to tell me your deepest, darkest fears, I’m just…I don’t really know. I just want to help.
I deleted my unsent sentence and typed: Do you go around helping everyone you see in pain?
X: Because I vowed I’d never lie, my answer will sound pompous and contrite. But yes. Yes, I do. Or at least, I try to.
Me: Why?
X: Because we all need help at some time or another.
Me: Who are you?
X: New rule. No more asking who I am, what my name is, or any other personal details.
Me: Why? So I don’t recognise you on the street when you come to murder me?
X: There you go with the murdering again.
Me: Can you blame me? No one will understand why I’m messaging you back. Everyone will think I’m suffering a psychotic break for not handing this phone in to the police when I had the chance.
X: And we’re back to my question. Why didn’t you?
I stared at the keyboard.
I chewed my bottom lip.
The fairy lights flickered while I sat under the moon in a puddle of absolute honesty that I’d done my best to shove away and ignore—not just since Milton had hurt me, but for most of my childhood. Sure, I’d had a good upbringing where every physical need was met, but my parents hadn’t been well-versed in delivering emotional needs.
Nana had been the only one to nurture me in that way.
But even with her, had I ever had a frank, unscripted, honest-to-God brutal conversation with someone?
Glancing at my screen again, I began to type with all the truth he demanded. Because that was the deal if we were doing this, and…I rather liked not having to censor myself. I didn’t have to second-guess or pretend or worry. I could be the rawest, truest version of myself, and if he didn’t like it, so what?
He’s no one to me.
Me: Why didn’t I? I think it’s because I like the idea of having you as my secret. Someone I’ve never met before and never want to. Someone who does bad things but hopefully for the right reasons. Someone who cares enough about a stranger to sit watching her at three in the morning when everyone else is in bed.
He didn’t reply as quickly. But I waited and trusted, and eventually, my phone chirped with a new message.
X: You asked me what I’m hoping to achieve by talking to you? I want you to see what I do when I look at you. I want you to smile instead of cry. And I want to beat the ever-loving shit out of whoever put those bruises on you.
My stomach flipped upside down.
X: Not that I’m violent or that I’ll ever hurt you. I shouldn’t have said that.
I swiped at the drying tears on my cheeks and forced a half-smile.
Me: I wish you could beat the ever-loving shit out of him too.
X: Truth?
Me: We just agreed, didn’t we?
X: I know I just said I will never approach you and you will never know my name, but I really want to know yours. I can already tell the promise to never see you in person will drive me crazy.
My forced smile turned genuine as the faintest feeling of the old me perked up.
Me: Come anywhere near me, and I’ll ensure you can never help anyone else again.
X: You couldn’t have said better words to keep me away.
Me: Good. Remember them.
X: Give me a name.
Me: What? Like you gave me a single letter? X isn’t a name.
X: It’s the only one you’re getting. Come on…I need something to call you by. Choose one. Anything.
My mind went blank as I stared at the sky. My eyes dropped to Alexander’s roofline. No lights in his windows. No sign of him awake or Jim or Josephine or any of the other neighbours on Ember Drive.
I was all alone, yet for the first time in forever, I felt safe.
I also had no idea what name to give him. I didn’t want to use my real name as whatever we were doing wasn’t real. He was a ghost who could use a cell phone, and I was the human he watched from the other side.
I like that idea .
Peering at the flowers around the garden, I tried on names for size. Orchid, Peony, Daisy, or Lavender.
Nope…
Following the patch of pansies, my gaze snagged on the three fence palings that’d always hung loose and offered a passageway from this garden to the Norths’ next door.
A memory exploded. A moment I’d completely forgotten.
Carefully adding purple to the mane of my unicorn in my Mythical Creatures colouring book, I gasped as a teenage boy wriggled through the fence.
“Oi!” I sat up from where I’d been lying on my stomach in the grass. “What are you doing?”
Alexander pushed up his black-framed glasses as his cheeks tinged red. “Oh, it’s you. I didn’t know you were visiting.” His nose wrinkled. “How many years has it been, and you still look like a weed.”
“Who’re you calling a weed?”
“Oh wow, not any smarter too.” He smirked. “You’d get on with my sisters.”
I huffed and crossed my arms, my pencil digging into my side. “What are you doing sneaking about?”
“I smelled cookies.” Shooting me a grin, he marched straight to the back deck as if his grandparents owned this house as well as next doors. “Melody won’t mind if I steal a few.”
“I do. Those are mine. She baked them for me!” I shot to my feet and dashed in front of him. “Go away.”
Rocking backward on his heels so he didn’t crash into me, he scowled and tugged my left pigtail. “Move out of the way, Lori.”
“Lori?” My chin tipped even higher as I swatted his hand off my hair. “My name is Sailor. Not Lori.” I stomped my foot for good measure.
“No, it’s not. I hear Rory calling you Lori all the time.
“He says Little Lor, you dingbat, and he’s the only one allowed to call me that.”
He burst out laughing. “Dingbat?”
I fought a giggle. “Suits you.”
“Yeah, well. Lori suits you more. Now out of my way, Lori, I have cookies to steal.”
The past dissolved as I shook my head. How had I not remembered that? How many other interactions had I had with the boy next door and forgotten? And why did my chest squeeze just a little too tightly because I could no longer even think about Alexander without feeling the thwack of Milton’s fist or the horror of his hands pawing between my legs.
“How many times have you fucked the neighbour while I’ve been gone—”
Swallowing hard, I shoved aside Milton’s hiss and typed: Lori. Call me Lori.
He replied quickly, as if he’d been watching me trip into my thoughts, waiting patiently, keeping me safe from monsters in the dark.
X: I’ve always liked the name Lori.
I yawned and lay on my back, feeling sleepy and floaty for the first time in far, far too long. I should go into the house and climb into bed like a normal person. But the balmy evening, soft grass, and twinkling stars promised to keep the nightmares at bay. Even my shivers subsided as if I’d shook from other things.
Me: How long are you going to watch me?
X: You should go inside.
Me: How long?
X: All night if you want.
Rolling onto my side, I went to type back. To thank him for saying exactly what I needed to hear but sleep pounced, the phone slipped out of my fingers, and I drifted into dreams of cookies, unicorns, and protective ghosts watching me from afar.