Chapter Twelve
Seventeen Years Ago - Evelyn
MOM’S SHOUT TRAVELS through my locked door, under my bed, and through the hands I slammed over my ears. I don’t know why Mom lets them touch her and hurt her over and over. The stuff they give her doesn’t seem like a fair trade to me.
I start humming my favorite song, trying to block out the sounds. For a minute it works, and I don’t hear anything, but then there’s a crash. I know that sound. I’ve heard it before. It’s a scary sound, but not as scary as the quiet that comes after.
Pulling my hands away from my ears, I wait, but the silence feels louder than the yelling. “Mom?” I whisper, as if she can hear me from where I’m hiding.
Wait. I’ve been here before. My heart takes off.
I know what happens next, as I pull myself out from my hiding spot. Somewhere, separate from my body, I’m silently shouting, screaming in warning, but my body keeps walking toward the silence that waits on the other side of the door.
“Don’t go out there!!!” I shout. “Please!! Keep the door locked!! Don’t let him in!!”
But my hand, even smaller in this memory, reaches for the doorknob and unlocks the door. It opens with a hesitant creak.
My mom lies crumpled on top of what used to be our dining table. It’s completely wrecked now. Running over to her, I brush the hair from her face and cry. This man is by far the worst. Her lip is bleeding, and there’s cuts all over her body that can’t be from the fall.
She needs help.
“I’ll be right back, Mom, I just need to get the phone.” Using all my might, I pull a chair over to the counter so I can reach the phone.
Raging and screaming as I watch myself climb onto the chair, it’s no use trying to stop the memory from playing out. I click the talk button and hold the phone to my ear.
Nothing. No sound.
The phone doesn’t work.
My heart goes even faster now, making me feel dizzy and off balance. I climb off the chair, clutching the phone to my chest as I look at my mom lying on the broken table. I don’t want to leave her, but she needs a doctor.
Little me doesn’t know what happens next, but I do. “RUN!!!! YOU HAVE TO HIDE!!!”
Leaving the phone on the chair, I decide to find help somewhere else.
“Mom? I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m going to find help. I know you said I can’t go out by myself, but the phone isn’t working. It’ll only be a few minutes.”
Gently kissing her on the forehead, I try not to look at the bruises that are beginning to freckle over her skin. Taking a deep breath, I swallow my tears and put my big girl face on.
My hand only shakes a little as I reach for the lock on the front door, but then someone is grabbing my hair, dragging me away. I open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out. Even though it’s silent, even though nobody can hear me, even though nobody would come if they did, I scream and I scream and I scream. I don’t stop, even when someone starts shaking me.
I will scream forever if I have to. I have to get her help.
A hand clamps over my mouth, too small to belong to that awful man.
Shooting up from my bed with a gasp, I find Ryder grasping my shoulders. “It’s okay, Evie. It was just another nightmare.”
Then the tears are streaming down my face and he’s pulling me to him.
There’s not enough air.
There’s not enough air.
There’s not enough–
“We’re going to breathe, okay, Evie? Ready? In….” Ryder takes a deep breath, and I try my best to do it too. “Out….” We blow out the air and do it again. And again.
We keep going until I can breathe, but the tears don’t stop as the memory of that night continues to haunt me.
“I brought you something.” My vision is blurred, but I watch as Ryder pulls a pillow out from behind him. He hits it and pulls on it, getting it as fluffy as possible before placing it behind me. Something about it makes the tears stop. “There. All better.”
“Fuck’s sake,” I manage, although my throat feels raw. “You really are a mother hen.”
Ryder laughs quietly, but it comes out more like a sigh of relief.
“Did I use it right?” He already knows I’m talking about the bad words.
“Yeah. You used it right.”
“I’ve been practicing.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
A piece of the nightmare flashes across my mind and I shiver, deciding that the less I think about it, the better. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“I don’t know,” Ryder whispers. “I’ve never really thought about it.”
“How can you not have any dreams for yourself?”
“It’s better that way. What are your dreams?”
“I want to be a cheerleader. Or the President of the United States.”
A cloud moves over the moon then, plunging my room into an inky black. Ryder smiles in the dark. Don’t ask me how I know he does, but I do, even if I can’t see my own hand. “Why don’t you do both?”
“I’ve…never thought of that.” Pause. What an amazing idea. “I should do both, because then I don’t have to pick. Imagine how hard it would be to pick being a cheerleader or the President.”
“ So hard,” Ryder teases before scooting me over to the other edge of the bed and lying down on his back. “The pillows aren’t so bad.”
“See? If you want yours back, I’ll understand.”
“You can still have it.”
I sigh, wondering what I would do if I didn’t have Ryder. I don’t think I’d ever sleep again. And that’s saying nothing about what I would’ve done to the laundry had Ryder not taught me. “Thank you for coming when I get scared.”
“I have nightmares too.”
“What are yours about?”
“Probably the same as you, stuff that happened before I was brought here.”
“You don’t have parents?”
“No. They were killed.”
“By who?”
“Two men. I don’t know who or why.” Ryder rubs his hand over the side of his face. “My dad had just gotten a new job, said we could finally get a better apartment, one where I could have my own bed. We even had dinner to celebrate. But later that night, we were asleep in our bed and my mother heard something. My dad went to see what it was, and we heard fighting. My mother didn’t hesitate before she shoved me into our tiny closet, behind a heap of clothes.”
Ryder reaches under his shirt, pulling out a gold necklace, with a plain, solid heart. “She put this over my head, told me that I had a heart of gold, and to let it guide me, before she made me promise to stay hidden no matter what I heard.”
My heart cracks. “What happened?”
“After that, I heard gunshots, but I kept the promise to my mother and stayed hidden. Someone checked the closet, and I swear, they must have looked right at me, but they turned and left. Told the other man it was empty.”
“You were very lucky.”
Ryder shrugs. “Sometimes I feel that I’m the opposite of lucky for it.”
What? “They could have killed you, but they didn’t.”
“Do you feel lucky for surviving what you see in your nightmares?”
“No. I guess I don’t.”
Ryder shakes his head. “We’re not lucky…just alive.”
It’s a wretched thought, but I fear he’s right. “How old were you?”
“Young enough that I don’t remember much before losing them. I have other glimpses of my mother, mainly. She was kind and beautiful and didn’t deserve that, but I guess I learned pretty early that fate isn’t always fair.”
“That’s a lot for eight and two quarters.”
“Yeah. I guess it is.”
Thinking about his mother, I can tell it hurts him. So I slide my hand into his and squeeze. “Do you think you could help me fall back asleep?”
Ryder is quiet for a moment, and I’m afraid that I’ve upset him too much by asking about his parents. But after a moment, he starts humming the same beautiful song from last time.
As I focus on the rise and fall of every sound, something squeezes in my chest as the melody slowly begins to weave itself around words.
When the sea is dark
When the waves are rough
When the darkness tries to swallow you whole
There I’ll be
I’ll be, I’ll be, I’ll be
I’ll bee-eee-eee
I’d thought his humming was extraordinary, but it’s bland when compared to how his voice sounds with words, guiding the music and my soul to sleep.