Moving On

                Evie took her father’s rough, clammy fingers in her hand.

                “C’mon, daddy…” she said. The pair headed off in search of Vanessa who was sitting at a table in the living room, staring out the window absently.

                “Vanessa, we need to talk,” Rick said. His voice was soft and tender. He loved Vanessa, Evie knew that. Vanessa looked up at him with wide, pale eyes and a vacant smile.

                “What is it darling?” she said.

                “Well…Evie and I-“

                “Evelyn.”

                “Right, Evelyn and I just had a chat. We think it’s time I get some…professional help,” Rick said. Evie silently praised Rick for is tactful word choices.

                “Don’t be silly Rick! Just a little more time, and-“

                “Mom, stop it. Dad needs help. We can’t keep living this way,” Evie said. “I love you. I love you both but…I’m just a kid, mom. I can’t deal with this forever, none of us can…we just have to stop pretending.”

                “Do you know how embarrassing that would be, Evelyn?” Vanessa said softly.

                “It doesn’t matter anymore, dear. It’s more embarrassing that we can’t take care of this,” Rick said. Evie hadn’t seen him this steadfast in a long, long time.

                “Rick…” Vanessa said, holding out her hands to him.

                “I’m sorry Vanessa but…it needs to be done.”

After that, Rick and Vanessa had sat on the phone all day, calling rehab centers, planning visits, dates, mapping out the programs. Evie had sat, watching the news while her parents conversed in the background. Two men had been killed from here, and recently, too. Flashes of faces from around the town flickered through Evie’s mind like the broken slates of a projector. And yet, all she felt was relief. Relief that her family was no longer a prison, relief that her dad would get better. Relief that maybe…just maybe, they would go home. And then, after the phone calls, Evie and her parents gathered all of the alcohol in the hotel. They each carried several bottles in their arms, cradled. The three of them paraded down Motel 6’s creaky stairs and out to the dumpster. Evie’s dad pushed open the lid and they each repositioned their bottles.

                “On the count of three,” Evie said. “One…two…three!” And they tossed the bottles. The sound of smashed glass and metal went rang from within the dumpster. To Evie, it sounded like the sweetest of orchestras.

What to Do

     When Evie woke up that morning, she knew what needed to be done. At three in the afternoon, she approached her father. He was only mildly tipsy, his speech not yet slurred at that point.

                “Daddy?” Evie said. “Daddy, I need to talk to you.”

                “What is it, baby?” Rick’s face was guilt ridden, stricken and haunted.

                “I know mom doesn’t want you to but…I think you need help, daddy. I think we need to get you into rehab or something, anything. I’m not happy anymore and I know you and mom aren’t either.”

                Rick stared at a hole in the wall opposite him. His chapped lips were half parted and his thin hair stuck up in all directions.

                “I…think you’re right.” Rick said. His voice teetered on the edge of anxiety, an edge Evie, for her sake, didn’t want to push him off of.

                “What should we tell mom?” Evie asked, speaking in the voice one might use when approaching an injured animal.

                “The truth,” he said.

Wrong

Sunlight the color of ripe tangerines streamed through the high windows. Everything glistened subtly, clean and welcoming. A girl ran through the panels of light, squealing, sunshine bouncing off of her deep red curls and spraying the walls in warmth. Her laughter rang throughout the entire hallway. A man in his early thirties was bounding after the girl, a wide grin stretching his handsome face, splitting it with dimples.

                “I’m gonna getchu!” He called, grasping the little girl around her tiny waist and lifting her high into the air…

Evie opened her eyes, slowly. The figures of a happy girl and healthy father danced across her mind- a long forgotten dream. Her head throbbed. It was as if the happy times were beating against the inside of her skull, rallying for a release Evie could not give. She wasn’t that little girl anymore and her father wasn’t that happy man. He was a shell of a man, rotten and brittle to his core. Evie never knew what went wrong, just that something did.

                But she was tired of it. Sick to her stomach, nauseous with secrets and lies and this motel which felt more like a cage than a home. In fact, she was done. Obviously, coming to this rotten town had done nothing to help her family. She swung her legs out of bed, ignoring the throb of protest her head provided. She stood slowly, still dizzy from Rick’s blow to her head the other day.

                “Mom?” She called. Vanessa entered the room quickly. She looked guilt stricken. Evie could understand that- after all, Vanessa had been so insistent about hiding Rick’s drinking that she had forgotten about protecting her only daughter- Evie.

                “What is it sweetie?” Vanessa trilled in her tired voice. Once upon a time, that voice had been happy, proud.

                “I think…I think we should leave here. This town isn’t helping anything and I miss home…mom, I want to go home. Please…” Evie felt like a child pleasing to go home after a particularly long spell at the grocery store. This was so much worse.

                “Evelyn, honey, you don’t understand-“

                “No, mom. I understand more than you think. Dad is SICK, okay? This isn’t normal, this isn’t okay! Hiding it won’t fix anything. I don’t know anyone here, I don’t like this stupid town and I miss our house. I miss being at home. You promised this wouldn’t be permanent but it’s been WEEKS and every time you assure me things are okay, they just get worse!” Evie exploded. She was panting, heart hammering in her chest. Thud thud thud thud. She couldn’t breathe properly and her hands were shaking. She just wanted to go home. That was all. Even if it was a visit…why was that so hard?

                “Evie, this has been hard on all of us.” Vanessa said. Her eyes had shut Evie out. This wasn’t her daughter she spoke with. Just one more person.

                Evie stared at her mother, lost, before flinging herself out of the room. To her surprise, her mother didn’t call after her. She ran hard and fast, wanting to escape the bullshit. Her feet dug into the rough asphault of the street. She could feel tiny cuts opening on the soles of her right foot. Finally, she stopped, gasping for breath, tears spilling down her cheeks. She leaned against the glass window front of the Sunset Grill. A woman, on her phone, speaking in a surprisingly southern accent, exited the door to Evie’s left. She jumped involuntarily, watching the woman she recognized as Spring Patterson. Evie was so focused on Spring not noticing her that she didn’t hear what her conversation was, she didn’t notice the shocked expression on Spring’s face. She curled her legs up to her chest and wiped her nose on a sleeve. She hated everyone. She hated this place. Most of all, she hated her mother. When would it all end?

Reality Check

Cool water trickled along the edges of Evie’s temples. The sensation of a rough, damp rag being slowly dragged across her forehead could be determined through the muggy mess of Evie’s battered mind. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open. Light spread across her vision, blurring the outlines of reality. She blinked, once, twice, three times.

                “Mother?” Evie said. Her mother stood over her, a concerned expression plastered across her stern and wizened face. A soft moan escaped the corner of the room. Evie turned her head, slowly, dazed. Rick stood in the corner, clutching handfuls of his short dark hair. His eyes were squinted up tight as if to fight off some invisible pain.

                “What happened?” Evie asked, alarmed and disgusted all at once. She reached for her neck, trying to clutch at the small golden locket her father had given her. It wasn’t there.

                “Mom, where is my locket?” Evie asked in a calm, strained voice.

                “Evie, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vanessa said, clearly frazzled.

                “My locket? The one dad gave me?”

                “I’m sorry sweety but your father never gave you a locket…”

Evie wracked her brain for information. There was a beast, a mugging, the other world. And her father. Her father! He had been sick, but now…

                “What happened?” Evie asked. Evie’s mom looked conflicted, her face contorting.

                “Your father…threw a bottle…it hit you. You’ve been asleep for two days.”

                “I’m so sorry Evie…” her father whispered. His voice cracked and fell away like shards from one of his rum bottles. “I just can’t seem to…” but his voice cut off. Evie rolled onto her side, struggling with the idea that everything which had happened in the last week wasn’t real. Wondering the same thing she always wondered- why was it, Evie was always the one to take on her father’s ghosts?

Home

            Evie’s mother had gone ballistic once she had finally made her way home after the mugging. The moment she stepped in the door of their crappy motel room, she was plagued with things like “where were you?!” or “I thought you were dead!” or “Something seriously bad could have happened!” Once Evie had staunched the flow of her mother’s hysteria, she hurried off to her room, closing the door and falling into bed, still fully dressed. She pulled the covers up over her head and stared at the shiny gold locket in the darkness. It reminded her of something- the way things were before…before what happened with her father.

            It was a special night for her parents, in that beautiful old house of theirs. As always, they were mooning over each other, exchanging secretive kisses that failed to be subtle to Evie’s prying eye. At that time in their lives, Evie’s mother and father had been healthy, beautiful even. Evie’s father had thick dark curls, deep gray eyes. Evie’s mother had long, shimmery red hair. Everyone knew the couple- The Jakyls. Everyone loved them, envied their love for each other and their single daughter- Evelyn.

            The reason that particular night was special was because it was Rick and Vanessa’s anniversary.

            “Come here, my darling,” Rick said, holding out his arms to envelop his wife and daughter in a tight embrace. “My two beautiful girls,” he said. Evie was squished between her parents, the scent of her mother’s perfume floating around her as she leaned in to kiss her husband.

“Uck, mommy!” Evie whined, squirming.

            “Come here, you little fox!” Evie’s dad lifted her high into the air, tickling her sides while she squealed with laughter. He always called her little fox because of her red hair and because he said she was the cleverest girl he had ever met. Once rick had set his girl down, Vanessa turned to Evie.

            “Evelyn, sweetheart, I want you to go up to bed now. We’ll tuck you in.”

            “Yes, mother,” Evie said, smiling. She zoomed up the stairs to her room. Everything had been as close to perfect as real life could get in that single moment. Evie crawled into the bed and, tucked away by her beloved parents, drifted into the same dreamless sleep she did every night. She was awoke without precedent around 1:30 AM. She carefully removed herself from the plush caccoon of blankets and tiptoed to the stairs. Her parents were in at the bottom of the stairs. Evie was about to go greet them when her father pulled out a lovely golden locket. Evie ducked behind the banister, watching. Vanessa eyed the thing with a look almost akin to discontent.

            “This way you’ll always find your way home,” he said, hooking the pretty thing round Vanessa’s neck. Evie wondered- where would they ever need to find their way home from? Everything was perfect, right where it was.

            A few weeks later, something went wrong. Rick started drinking. Heavily. One night, in a fit of rage, he ripped the pretty locket off Vanessa’s neck.

            “There’s no home to find,” he yelled. That was the first time Evie ever saw her father cry, the first feather of change.

Reality

There was the sensation of grass sticking into Evie’s back, sharp, pointy little blades slicing into her clothes. The air was somewhat cold, making Evie feel frozen in place- except for the occasional teeth chattering tremor. A small noise escaped her lips as she struggled into a sitting position, slowly stretching her sore, stiff limbs. Sunlight dappled the ground, painting everything in this dusty town to look, for a moment, beautiful.

            Evie was about to stand up when she heard the shrill cry of a baby and the muffled gasp of who she assumed to be its mother. Crawling out from behind the cover of the trees, Evie watched as a man in all black ran up to the woman, grabbing her diaper bag, almost knocking the baby to the ground and then running away. A small crowd of spectators gathered, making sure the woman was alright. Though she assured them she was, I wondered if anyone else noticed the stricken look upon her face. It ran far deeper than what I had just witnessed, in fact, the woman seemed almost zombie-like. She had a dazed look to her eyes- there was no fear, though. Slight annoyance, maybe, but no fear. I watched as she held her child, rocking it slightly, crooning in a low voice.

            After the crowd had dissipated, the woman picked up a quick pace, walking in the opposite direction, as if pulled by some urgent, invisible thread.

            Evie sat back on her heels and wondered at the woman’s life- at the look in her wide, dark eyes. The image of the beast from the night before flashed before her eyes then. The beast’s look matched the woman’s- Evie realized that the similarity between the two seemed to be a deep loss of something. Reality, maybe? Evie knew she had certainly lost her own since of reality in the past few days.

Beast

Evie stepped into the Castle Apartment room and stared around in wonder. She had entered a different world entirely. She stood on the precipice of a cliff, overlooking a strange land filled with sights, such that, only a great imagination could behold. The sky of this place was a deep, rich, purple. Stars drifted through the misty air eternally. Mechanical trees sprouted from sweet, shocking green grass. She could see a market place not too far off and small, otherworldly adobes inhabited the cliff face.
The golden necklace her father had given her glowed brightly, pulsing with an ethereal light. She stared at it in awe, cupped in the soft palm of her hand. Webs of light sprouted from the stars eight points, growing, spreading, shaping a massive glowing map. Evie stood in the very center of the map, on a point called “Makeshift.”
Suddenly she was six years old again, an innocent, blossoming little girl, enthralled by the tales of her brave daddy and the kindness of her beautiful mother. She sat on her fathers knee, leaning into the soft cashmere of his sweater, feeling his voice reverberate around her. He smelled fresh and clean, a smell he hadn’t had for years. His hair was tidy and his belly was round, soft against the forgiveness of her cheek.
“Makeshift is a far away land, my darling,” her father said, his baritone voice vibrating her ear. “A place where everything you imagine becomes real. But you have to be careful in places like that- the greatest wonders are often an illusion.” “So, you’re the daughter,” a woman said. Evie jumped, dropping the necklace. The map disappeared in a resounding whir of light and color.
“Who are you?” Evie asked. She bent, picked up the necklace and tenderly hooked it round her neck.
“I am like you,” the woman stated. “I do not belong. This is a place where lost things are found, forgotten things remembered, a place where little girls who don’t fit in belong.” The woman looked familiar. Her hair was red like Evie’s, soft, flowing. It glowed slightly in the light from the falling stars. Her eyes were wide and, unlike Evie’s, dark as pitch, calm as an uninterrupted pond.
“Sorry but...I have to go,” Evie said. “My mother will be waiting.”
The woman smiled, her full red lips lifting into a brilliant crescent. Goosebumps rose on Evie’s arms.
“Alright,” the woman said. “But you’ll have to come back and visit me.” Evie nodded and, shaking, backed out of Makeshift. the door closed with a soft click an Evie turned and absolutely ran out of the building. She walked for a long time, contemplating today’s discoveries. It was bitterly cold outside this close to Christmas and Evie deeply regretted only having a light jacket. The image of the falling stars lit her mind, complimented by the memory of her father’s voice. everything had changed so much. What if this was her chance, her only chance to make her father better? The high wrought iron gates of Sherwood park watched her as she stepped through. She ambled about between trees, kicking up bits of pine with her sneakers. There was a loud screech from high above her. Evie looked up, surprised. The hair on the back of her neck rose. A beast sprang upon her, forcing her to the ground, pinning her there. The putrid stench of the beast’s breath drowned out all other senses. Evie squeezed her eyes shut, wondering if it would kill her.
“You don’t belong, silly girl,” the beast whispered. “You belong nowhere, to no one. You will never save your father...not unless you come to our world, that is the only way.” Its voice was soft and melodic, tempting. It started singing, a lullaby, long forgotten. It was what Evie’s father used to sing to her every night before bed when she was little. She found that her eyelids were drifting shut, pulled down by gravity or this horrific creature’s might. Darkness surrounded her and, right as she began to truly drift off, the beast’s voice permeated her dreams, suffocatingly sweet.
“Goodnight, my darling,” it said. And then there was nothing.