2005 Grace #2
I opened the door and turned the light on.
It buzzed as if we were in a cheap horror flick.
Stale mold and other stomach-turning smells mixed in the air.
As I stepped in, the floorboards creaked under my feet, and a gray mouse bolted along the wall.
Brown cardboard boxes were stacked on top of each other, and my old posters lined the rotten walls, giving some color to their desolation.
Cyrus and Jamie, his hands in his pockets, were standing guard in the doorway as I stepped over to one of the boxes I could open.
It was full of my old clothes and other stuff, like my Discman.
The mouse droppings inside made my stomach turn, but I wanted to listen to something that could bring me back to happier times.
I took the Discman out, turned it on, and put the earphones in my ears.
Jamie must have put new batteries in it because the wonderful voice of Billie Joe Armstrong made my senses dance.
The song continued where I had stopped it five years ago.
A fresh wave of tears rolled down my face—it was the happy memories that hurt the most.
I tore the earphones out and tossed my most cherished possession back onto the clothes covered in mouse droppings. I gasped for air, and my heart raced.
“Grace.” I heard a deep, reassuring grumble from the doorway. It tore me from the dark pit of my mind, not letting the oncoming anxiety attack overwhelm me.
I swept my gaze across the room, which was much worse than the hole I’d been imprisoned in. That had been clean—no rodents shitting all over the place, and no toxic mold in the dishes or the glasses.
Not that I wanted to go back…
My new room had no wardrobe—or a dresser, for that matter. All it had was a stinky, worn mattress on the floor.
Jamie and Cyrus were standing next to each other in silence as I passed them with a probing glance. I continued exploring the house.
Jamie’s room had a worn single bed with sticky spots of dirt. He didn’t have a wardrobe, either—only an old TV and the PlayStation he had gotten from our parents, on a shabby table.
I went into Nikky’s bedroom, which was the biggest, cleanest, and most tasteful room. It had a double bed, a huge wardrobe filled with glittering clothes, and a dresser with a mirror, covered in cosmetics.
The toilet was in the bathroom. The old tap dripped, the white metal bathtub was gray with dirt, its inside yellow with limescale. The sink had dried patches of toothpaste, the comb was clogged with long strands of hair, and the trash can was full of bloody tampons.
Despite the sight, my stomach growled.
“Are you hungry?” my brother asked.
“Yup,” I said, nodding, even though I could’ve thrown up. However, that toilet didn’t even deserve to be vomited on. It was disgusting.
“I’ll make you a sandwich,” Jamie said enthusiastically, and left us alone with Cyrus.
“Grace.” Cyrus said my name softly and leaned in close, intimately.
“I know it was me who got you here, but…” He looked around. “Are you sure you want to stay here? You don’t have to. I can talk to some people to help you get back on your feet, in a place that isn’t like this.”
I liked the thought of moving to a more homey house, but I couldn’t leave my siblings on their own—not after all we had been through.
“They are my family. They are all I have left. I’ll be okay.”
“Okay,” he sighed. “I have to go now, but I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”
“Why?”
He entered the bathroom to stand closer to me and lowered his voice.
“I’ll take you to a doctor.”
“A doctor?” I asked, my brow furrowing.
“Yeah. To check you out. For five years, you were…” He halted. “Don’t worry, everything will go according to the book. And this will be evidence against Chase Baker.”
“Do I have to go to a dentist, too? Are my teeth…”
“Those are evidence, too,” he said, nodding. “Take care and try to get some rest.”
“Okay.”
Cyrus left. And I was suffocating in my memories and my grief.
The next morning, not only did Cyrus show up—his car was followed by a large truck loaded with usable secondhand furniture, kitchenware, and clothes. Our old things were taken away.
As soon as the morning bustle quieted down, Cyrus walked back to his car and took something out. I watched from the porch as he held it against his chest and murmured to it softly.
He stepped toward me carefully and put the small furball into my hands. It opened its mouth wide and started meowing sharply.
“Take it before it tears my leather seats apart,” Cyrus said quickly and awkwardly. “I think he’s gonna be a great hunter. The mice will have to move out soon.”
I couldn’t smile. My heart was beating unnaturally fast. My veins tingled with joy because Cyrus cared about me and was kind to me. However, as soon as I looked down at the white, blue-eyed kitty, I broke into tears, because I remembered…
Poppy.
I held the kitten in one hand and put the other in front of my face, which was contorting in pain.
“Grace…” Cyrus tried to get to me, but it was horribly difficult to stop crying. I cried and cried like an idiot.
It took me by surprise when he stepped up onto the porch, pulled my head against his chest, and embraced me with his huge arms. At that moment, I was just like that small kitten. I melted into Cyrus’s body, hiding from the pain. I listened to his slow, peaceful heartbeat.
However, I could not hide from the world.
When Nikky stepped out of the house, she looked at us with a disapproving gaze and clicked her tongue.
Her face held no compassion, her lips, red with lipstick, pulled into a spiteful sneer.
I wanted to break free from the embrace, but Cyrus didn’t let me.
He held me in his arms until my salty tears dried on my face and my body stopped trembling.
“How was your first day?” he asked me when we entered the house.
“Dark and lonely,” I replied tersely, but then…
words started pouring out of me against my will.
“When I broke free, I thought my parents were waiting for me. I hoped to see them. Deep in my heart, I was longing for their embrace. I wanted Mom to stroke my hair while I cried myself to sleep in my old room. But… this is not what I got. My siblings barely acknowledge my existence. Maybe Jamie is somewhat happy to see me, but Nikky… Nikky has never loved me. I spent my first day in that dark room, lying on that ugly mattress, listening to music and crying.”
Cyrus nodded gravely.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
“For what?”
“For everything,” I gestured around, “but especially for that comforting hug. I really needed that.”
He put his hands into the pockets of his jeans, with an expression on his face I could not decipher. Pity? Empathy? Understanding?
He probably knew what to do because this wasn’t the first such case in his career.
“We should go now.”
I forgot about the doctors.
I put the kitten in my room, washed my face, and combed my hair with my fingers. I had an idea of what was waiting for me, but I hadn’t known how terribly difficult it would be to walk down the street or into the doctor’s office. The news of my arrival had been spreading like wildfire.
After the examinations, Cyrus parked the car in front of the Madame LeBlanc boutique, whose storefront was filled with elegant clothes.
“Why would I need anything from here?”
“You need something appropriate for your hearing.”
My heart leaped into my throat and beat wildly. “Have you caught him?”
He nodded.
“So quickly?” I opened my mouth in surprise. I didn’t know how I felt about Chase. He had been arrested. He was in custody. Being far from him was both pain and pleasure.
“I know you’re scared of meeting him. Most victims don’t even get to the courtroom.
They file no charges because they’re afraid of the perpetrator or are ashamed of what happened to them.
But you shouldn’t back out, Grace. You need to stay strong and see this through.
Chase Baker must be put behind bars. And don’t worry, I’ll be there with you and support you. ”
My mouth was dry.
I stared straight ahead and tried to untangle what my true feelings were, because Cyrus was right. I didn’t want to look into Chase Baker’s eyes. I didn’t want to meet him, but he had to pay for what he’d done.
After I had picked a suit, Cyrus took me out for lunch. It was a nice spring day, warm enough to sit outside the restaurant. The wind had a little bite to it, but the sun was a pleasantly warm balm on my skin.
I needed this bubble in which only he and I existed. After five years of “solitude,” I found it difficult to be with people.
Both of us ordered cheese cream soup served in a bread bowl. The food was amazing, and the neighborhood was quiet and peaceful. Pigeons were cooing around us. However, when I looked at a flower and gift shop named Hortensia, the cheese turned sour in my mouth.
“Would you like to visit your parents’ grave?”
“I don’t even have money for flowers.” My voice was hoarse, full of anger and disappointment. My hand clenched into a fist on the table. I wanted to shout, “No!” I didn’t want to get them flowers. I wanted them to be alive. But that was too much to ask.
“We cops don’t get paid a lot, but I’ll make it work.” Cyrus stood up, ran his fingers through his windblown dark hair, and offered his hand.
I hesitated, my gaze flickering between him and the flower shop, before I gave in. I had to face the fact that my parents were dead.
“I don’t know where their grave is. I don’t know anything.”
“We’ll ask the groundskeeper when we get there.”
He took my hand and led me across the street. I didn’t know what he’d been more afraid of—me turning back or jumping in front of a car…
When we opened the door, a golden bell jingled above it. The place was full of gorgeous, colorful flowers. Their heavy, sweet scent evoked temptation—it was too much and too little at the same time.
“I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness,” I whispered. “Is it in your job description, or…?”