Chapter 19 #2
We stood on the street outside the foster house.
Karson scanned the shadows of the fast-fading light.
Shepherded by a chubby brown-haired woman, Billy and Lottie walked out hand in hand, wearing pajamas, their faces pale, their eyes wide and grave.
Lottie clutched a pink teddy. Lester followed behind, carrying a dirty blue overnight bag.
I straightened as they reached the end of the path.
They peered nervously between Karson and me.
I moved forward slowly and squatted down. “Hello. I’m Amy and that’s Karson. It’s lovely to meet you both.” Neither child spoke, they just stared like broken dolls. “That’s a pretty teddy. What’s her name?”
She dropped her head to the ground and gripped the teddy to her chest. “Ruby,” she said quietly.
“Wow. I had a teddy I loved when I was a little girl too, but she wasn’t as pretty as yours, Lottie.”
She smiled, but it looked too small, too tight, even for her tiny face.
“Let’s get you in the car,” Lester said, opening the back door for them.
Billy’s eyes ran over the sleek black body of the car, and they widened as if he couldn’t quite believe he was getting to ride in a car as fancy as this one.
The woman helped them in, buckling them up and telling them she’d miss them.
She clicked the door closed and waddled over to us.
“Poor little poppets, they’ve been so traumatized.
” She wiped at the tears in her eyes. “It’s awful, truly awful, such sweet kids.
I know I shouldn’t say this, it’s not politically correct, but with everything I see, some people don’t deserve to have children. ”
“You won’t get any argument from me,” Lester replied.
“Take care of them, won’t you.” She turned her attention to Karson.
Karson nodded as he opened the door for me to get in. “I can assure you they will be safe with us.”
“Who’s hungry?” I asked as we pulled away.
Neither child answered. “I thought maybe you might like an ice cream or maybe some chips or something else from McDonald’s?”
Nothing but blank, distraught faces.
Karson and I exchanged worried glances. He looked in the rear-view mirror as he spoke. “I’ll go through the drive-in and order one chocolate sundae, which I think you might like, Lottie, and one strawberry for you, Billy. And if you do not eat them, we can just throw them out.”
“I’d like one, please,” Lottie said in a timid voice.
Billy stared out of the window in a trance-like state, but he took the sundae. They ate them in silence. By the time we got home an hour later, they had fallen asleep, the remnants of their sundaes left pooling on the leather seat.
I gently shook Billy awake. “Billy, sweetheart, we’re here.” He rubbed his eyes with his fists and yawned.
Karson picked up a sleeping Lottie. She wrapped her legs around his waist, tucked her arms around his neck, and rested her head on his shoulder.
Billy looked up at the house, his mouth dropping open. “Is this a house or some kind of group home?”
“It’s Karson’s house, and it has a pool. If it’s not too cold and you like swimming, I can take you tomorrow, if you like?”
Billy tripped up the steps. “Wow, Mr., you must be filthy rich.”
“I do alright.” Karson chuckled, opening the door.
Billy twisted around in a circle, taking it all in. To a child, it probably looked like a palace. To be fair, the first time I came in it looked like a palace to me too.
He stared up at the chandelier. “What do you do for a job?”
I snorted laughter.
“I invested in real estate some years back,” Karson answered smoothly. “It’s late, how about we get you and your sister to bed.”
Lottie hadn’t even stirred.
“How many people live here?” Billy asked as we climbed the stairs.
“Right now, we have seven staying here, including you and Lottie.”
“Seven people. For this giant house?” He whistled between the gaps in his front teeth.
I grinned. “Would you like to share a room with Lottie, Billy?”
His face changed to something grim, and I almost wished I hadn’t asked him. “Yes,” he whispered, “she’ll be scared without me.”
“You’re obviously a good big brother.” I opened the door to the room closest to ours.
Karson laid Lottie down on the bed, pulling the comforter over her.
It was like all the bedrooms; it was large with its own bathroom.
Someone had put the heater on, and the room was toasty warm.
I showed Billy where the bathroom was, and where our bedroom was in case he needed us.
“Would you like me to leave your door open?” I asked as he settled himself in bed. “And I can leave all the hallway lights on in case Lottie gets scared, if you like?”
Billy swallowed hard. “Yes, please. I won’t need it, but Lottie might.”
I smoothed his hair. “You’re safe here, Billy. Karson is a little like Superman. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of Superman, but he’s almost as fast, and he’s as strong and won’t let anything happen to either of you.”
Billy nodded, glancing at Karson, who was standing in the doorway watching.
“I like Superman,” he said.
“Me too. He’s the coolest superhero, don’t you think?”
He stared up at Karson. “Can you fly like him?”
“No, but I can run as fast and jump really high, and I have his hearing,” Karson answered. “So if you need me, just say my name, even as a whisper, and I will hear it and come running.”
Did that mean he was staying home tonight? That we’d finally spend the night together wrapped in each other’s arms?
Billy tucked the comforter up to his chin. “Can you show me some of your moves tomorrow?”
Karson came over to the bed, his expression soft. “I can, but it has to be our secret. You can’t tell anyone about what I am.”
Billy nodded. “Like Lois.”
Karson smiled. “Yes, just like Lois.”
We wished Billy good night, leaving the door ajar.
Our bedroom was bathed in a soft glow from the nightlight.
Karson shifted over to the balcony window, peering out into the dark, searching for threats.
Then he spun and disappeared out of the door, leaving me staring bewildered after him.
My heart zigzagged in my chest. It seemed implausible that she could find us so quickly.
I barely made it to the door before he came back, smiling. “Billy whispered my name.”
“Clever boy.” I sagged down on the bed, the torment these kids had gone through eating at my heart.
I knew what it was like to go to sleep in a strange place, with strange people, but didn’t know what it was like to see my mother, or someone I loved, become a killer; to know she’d kill me too.
Karson could take away their fear, take away the memories of what she’d done.
He could rewind time back to where they were before all this happened.
The power he had was dangerous, but it was hard to argue against removing trauma from a child’s mind.
“Do you think you should wipe their minds?”
“I never thought that would be something you would suggest.”
“Neither did I.” I sighed, trailing my fingers over the silk sheets. “But these are children, and I don’t want them to suffer.”
The bed sagged a little as he sat down beside me. He reached for my hand, clasping it in his, staring at it like it was a map to lands he wished to explore. When he spoke, his voice was heavy. “I will once the danger has passed.”
“Will they forget everything they saw?”
“Yes.” He paused. “Most likely.”
“Most likely?”
“There is no guarantee that what I have erased with stay that way.”
“Like with Sarah.” She remembered parts of what happened the fatal night her brother was killed, but not the part where she threw the blade, removing his head. “But surely, that’s because she’s a firstborn and her mind is strong.”
He lifted his gaze and stared at the closed curtains as if conflicted.
Was that guilt I could see? Did he blame himself for not considering his skills might not work on Sarah?
“Witches and vampires are two species whose minds are harder to control. Sometimes, in the strongest of minds, fragments of what has transpired lie in the very far depths of the subconscious.”
“The children aren’t witches though?”
His thumb swept across the back of my hand, worry etching lines in his brow as his gaze seemed to reach into my soul.
“I doubt it. Although sometimes a witch’s power isn’t always obvious, it can remain dormant until they reach a certain age.
For girls, it is usually around sixteen, but boys can be even older before it begins to stir.
When I erase someone’s memories, sometimes, even with humans, every now and then small pieces try to surface, and the person can’t quite grasp what is missing.
They feel like something isn’t right. Some have terrible nightmares.
Most push it aside as a trick of their imagination and go on with life.
Some can’t stand the feeling, and it eats away at them.
Some end up drinking or taking mind-altering substances to bury the sense of loss they can’t quite place. ”
Nightmares were something I knew all about, and I hated that I did.
I hated the trauma they left behind, the fear of the dark, though it was nothing to do with having my mind wiped.
Being a witch, I was protected from that happening.
My nightmares were a product of my vivid imagination; my head played scenes like movies and the nightmares felt real.
When the mind didn’t know the difference between fiction and non-fiction, the trauma I was left with was the same as if I had lived it.
“You think that could happen to the children?” I asked.
“If we allow them some space to process what has happened, to go through the torment and deal with some of it themselves, then I will wipe their minds, and they stand a far greater chance of never knowing that anything happened.” He pulled my hand to his lips and kissed it, before standing and heading to the bathroom.