Turning Grace (17 page)

“Well who is he? Can we call him? When is your mom getting home?” Tristen’s voice was anxious.

In that instant, I felt the urge to hear my mother’s voice. I searched for my cell phone in my purse. It was early Sunday morning and she was due back this afternoon. I needed to speak with her. She knew all the answers.

She answered the phone sleepily.

“Hello?”

“Mom.”

“Grace, what’s wrong?” she asked, panic flowing out of her tone.

“Mom, I need you here. Now. Please.”

“I’m coming Gracie.” I could hear rummaging in the background. “I’m on my way.”

I set the phone down on my lap and took a deep breath. I realized that in just a few hours, Mom would be home and I would finally get the answers I had actually been dreading over the past few weeks. The truth was going to come out today and I wasn’t sure it was going to be what I wanted to hear.

I glanced over at Tristen, who was waiting patiently for me to say something. “We have to get home. My mom is on her way to the airport now.”

“I’m not sure it’s safe yet Grace. I mean, I’m sure they won’t find Phoebe and Eric right this second, but the cops may be waiting for you outside of your house because of Sonny.”

“We can sneak in. We just have to get home, Tristen. We have to.” And with that, Tristen started the engine and headed toward my house.

It took just a few minutes to reach the vicinity of my house. Taking a quick surveillance from the street before mine, there did not seem to be anyone waiting in front of the house. We parked Marilyn and walked cautiously through the neighbor’s back yard. A familiarity set in when a memory of Phoebe and I sneaking out of my house one late night to buy junk food at the twenty-four hour corner store flooded my head. I took a deep breath to avoid any tears.

Once inside my house, I felt the urge to go straight to the refrigerator. However, I realized in that moment that it was only out of constant repetition and not because I was hungry. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t hungry at all. My stomach still felt completely pleased with what I fed it earlier. Although, that thought deeply saddened me.

Tristen must have recognized the expression on my face as we entered the living room. “Grace, are you okay?”

I plopped down on the couch, feeling the weight of everything that happened bearing down on me.

“Yeah. Yes. I’m fine,” I answered.

Tristen sat beside me. “Grace, it’s okay if you’re not.”

“Are you?”

He sat back into the couch, inhaling deeply. I suddenly felt sadness for Tristen. I wasn’t the only one having to endure what happened in the last few hours. He just killed someone to save my life for God’s sake. Was it worth it?

“I’m fine. I guess.”

“Tristen, I’m sorry. I know—”

Tristen turned to me, grabbing my face with both his hands and forcing me to look into his amazing eyes.

“Grace, I’m only going to say this one last time. Don’t be sorry. Yes. I killed someone. But I was protecting you. And I would do anything to protect you. Do you understand?”

I simply nodded.

“We are going to figure this out. You and me. Whatever we have to do, we will do it. And I’m not going anywhere. Are you okay with that?”

I nodded again.

“Okay,” he said before landing a soft kiss on my forehead. “Now, tell me more about this doctor guy.”

“Well, he came here a couple of times. The first time, he was visiting with my mom and asked me some questions like ‘How are you feeling?’ and ‘Are you tired?’ Which was weird. Then, I think I overheard my mom on the phone with him one night. She was telling him that she couldn’t send me away. That was all I could hear. And finally the last time, he was here one morning and offered to take me to some island off the coast of Costa Rica. He said there is a facility there and I can get the treatment I need.”

“Did he say what the treatment was for?” Tristen asked. He was concentrating hard on everything I had just revealed.

“No, Phoebe…” I paused.

Tristen laid a hand on my thigh. “It’s okay.”

I took a deep breath and fought all the urges to run upstairs and lock myself in my room. “Phoebe came over and we had to go to school before he could tell me,” I finished.

“Well, hopefully when your mom gets home, she can answer those questions for us. In the meantime, maybe we should sleep for a couple of hours. How are you feeling? Stomach wise I mean?” he asked, resting a hand on his belly.

“I feel amazing. I am actually full for the first time in my life,” I answered, feeling ashamed for my honesty. After all, I was full of my best friend.

“Okay, why don’t we take a shower and come back down here to rest for a bit. I have a feeling today is going to be a long day too.”

Blood rushed to the pours of my face. “Um…well, okay… My tub is kind of small for the both of us.”

Tristen smiled softly as he brushed a loose curl from my face.

“After everything we have been through, you are still so adorable. I meant we can take a shower, separately. I don’t think we’re ready for a shower together. Do you?”

Kill. Me. Now.

“No! I was just joking silly. You can use my mom’s shower.” I faked a laugh as I secretly wished I would crawl out of myself. “I will give you something to wear. I think my mom kept a t-shirt and sweatpants from my dad.”

We headed upstairs and went our separate ways. When I entered my bathroom, I completely avoided the mirror. I knew what would be staring back at me would be an image of myself covered in dried, crimson blood. A murderer.

After the shower, I dried off and threw on some jeans and a t-shirt. Watching my best friend’s blood slide off of my body and into the shower drain took a lot out of me, emotionally. I cried softly, hoping Tristen wouldn’t hear. He was already having to deal with enough. Falling apart was something that I needed to hold off on doing in front of him. At least till we knew what we were going to do.

I met Tristen downstairs and grabbed a quilt from the linen closet. Tristen stretched out on the couch, scooting over against the back rest to allow room for me to lie down next to him.

As if we had been doing it for years, I nestled into his arms. With our bodies facing the same direction, Tristen wrapped his arms around me, kissing the back of my head at the same time.

“God you smell so good when you get out of the shower.”

“Thank you. You smell like my mom.”

He laughed. “Well, there was nothing manly in there. Besides, I kind of like it.”

“I like what you normally smell like.”

“And that is?”

I sighed, feeling the sleepiness begin to consume me. “Like a sexy Corvette.”

“What? What does that smell like?” he laughed again.

“I don’t know. But it’s good. So don’t worry.”

“Okay, I won’t. Hey. Look at me.”

I twisted my head towards his. He kissed me sweetly on my lips, sending a chill down my spine. “Everything is going to be okay.”

I nodded and turned back around, allowing myself to fall asleep in his arms.

Chapter 15

The Death

“Grace Elizabeth Watkins! Wake up right now!”

I opened my eyes. Tristen shot up to a sitting position, which made me chuckle inside. He was afraid of what my mom would think. If only he knew what she already thought of him. I was sure she would think badly of any guy close to me.

“What time is it?” I asked, still feeling groggy.

“It’s time for you to tell me what the hell is going on! Why are you sleeping with him on my couch?” Oh, she was pissed.

“Mom, it’s not like that. We had a long night. You don’t have to yell.”

“I’m going to make some lunch,” she stated angrily and headed towards the kitchen.

“Seriously? Mom, I’m not hungry.”

She turned around quickly, stunned. “What? Grace, what happened?”

Tristen and I glanced at each other. This was it. This was the moment of truth, for both me and my mom. I wasn’t sure what I was more afraid of: Telling my mother that her daughter was a murderer or finding out what I truly am.

Mom sat down on the love seat, not breaking her stare into my eyes. I knew she was bracing herself for the worst, and she was going to get it.

“Mom, I…I need to know what is wrong with me.” Okay, so I chickened out. Just for now though.

“Grace, it’s very complicated.”

“Mom. I need to know. Whatever it is, it’s ruining my life. Complicated or not, I need to know and understand what is making my body change and do these crazy things.”

“What crazy things?” she asked suspiciously.

Tristen and I glanced at each other again before I answered. “Something terrible happened last night. Something…something that I don’t understand.” My heart grew heavy.

“Gracie. You are scaring me. What? Happened?” Her patience was growing thin.

“Ms. Watkins, we need to know why Grace did what she did and what we can do to fix it,” Tristen said.

Mom’s eyes darted over to Tristen. “Excuse me, but why are you here? This is between my daughter and I. This doesn’t concern you.”

“As a matter of fact Mom, he should be here. He killed someone to save my life last night.”

My mother’s expression morphed into horror. I probably should not have blurted it out the way I did, but Tristen saved my life and he was sticking with me.

I took a deep breath. “Mom, listen to me. Last night was…it was…”

“Ms. Watkins, last night was hard,” Tristen continued. “Some things happened and we need to know why it happened. Is there anything you can tell us?” Tristen asked. I was grateful for his chiming in.

“Well, what happened, Grace.”

Might as well just pull the Band-Aid away fast. “Sonny and I got into a fight. I bit her arm. Almost all of it. And ate it. Then we went to Eric’s house to hide from the police. In the middle of the night, I…I killed Phoebe and ate her.” I swallowed hard and tried not to reminisce on the way her flesh melted into my taste buds. “When Eric woke up, he tried to choke me to death and Tristen hit him with a baseball bat and killed him. Now we are here.”

I cannot recall a time that I had ever seen my mother’s appearance this way. I guess if I could describe it in one word, I would say…pissedfrightenedworriedperplexedstunned. Yeah, that would sum it up.

“Mom, please tell me. Tell me what is wrong and how we can fix it. I am terrified of what is going to happen next.”

Mom looked away, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. She was hurt most of all, I could tell. I gave her a moment to collect her thoughts. I knew this information was way too much for anyone to handle.

She wiped away a fallen tear from her cheek with her finger. “When you were five, you got really, very sick one day. You couldn’t eat a thing. You vomited everything your tiny little body had in it. I figured it could have just been a stomach virus, so I let another day go by. When you were the same way the next day, I tried to hydrate you myself, giving you medicine and plenty of fluids. On the third day, you were still ill and I decided to take you to the Children’s Hospital. You were in there for a week and no one could figure out what was wrong. You couldn’t keep anything down and you were losing pounds by the minute.” She stood up and walked over to the mantel, grabbing an old photo of me in her hands.

“I was so disappointed in myself. How could I let my baby girl get so sick? I was a doctor for God’s sake. But we finally figured out what it was. The Rotavirus.”

I remembered the medical file hidden in my mother’s closet. “What is that?” I asked.

Mom placed the picture frame back on the mantel and sat back down on the love seat. “It’s a virus that many children get. It’s basically like the stomach flu, but can get very severe and cause death if not treated. The doctors tried to get you better, but your little body wouldn’t. ”

I swallowed hard, suddenly getting an aching feeling that this story will only get worse.

“I called Dr. Roberson, my colleague. I was a doctor, yes, but it was not my expertise. It wasn’t Mark’s specialty either, but I had nowhere else to turn. I needed someone I could trust and confide in regarding your condition.”

“Where was Mr. Watkins?” Tristen asked. He was completely engrossed in the story.

“He was not present at the time. He…he left me.”

“Why?” I asked. Maybe this was my chance to get answers regarding my father too.

“It was complicated. I tried to call him. I tried to tell him that you were ill, but I couldn’t reach him.” The heartache that my mother felt for all those years began to show and I realized then how she must have felt. Alone and scared.

“Mark came the instant I called, but by the time he began his research on your symptoms and reasons for your illness, your condition worsened. You…” She paused to look down at her hands. Tears began streaming down faster.

“Mom, I what?”

“You died Gracie. For twenty-three minutes, you died.”

My heart thudded in my throat. What was she saying? Tristen wrapped his arm around my body and squeezed me towards him. Did he just hear it too?

“So…I died?”

My mother was now sobbing. Something I had never seen her do. “Yes. Yes you did, Gracie.”

“Well, obviously I’m not dead now. What happened?” My tone was sarcastic, but at the moment feelings of betrayal were coursing through me. How could my mother not tell me this piece of vital information before?

“At the time, Mark was in the middle of some developmental research. He had been working on  a project for an experimental medication. This medication was being created to help resuscitate patients who just expired.”

“So, instead of CPR, this medication would bring you back to life,” Tristen stated.

“Exactly. It was an alternative. When injected into the patient, it would revive them. Sort of like what is used when a person is having a severe allergic reaction. Sort of like epinephrine.”

“So he used it on me?”

“I didn’t know what else to do. I was desperate to bring you back.”

“What was the catch? What were the side effects?” I asked. Surely every medication had a side effect.

“We weren’t sure.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, becoming increasingly confused.

“Mark had never used it on anyone else. You were his first patient.”

“You mean, you didn’t know what would happen?” I was pissed. How could she not know what it would do to me? It could have turned me into a unicorn for all she and Dr. Roberson knew.

“Grace, please don’t be upset,” she pleaded. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Tristen looked over to me. “It worked though, Grace. You’re alive and here right now.”

“I get it.” I didn’t even want to look at my mother. “Mom, please just tell me when I started to eat animals and humans.”

“The night I brought you home, you woke up and…this happened.” She lifted her hand in the air to show us the stub of her finger.

“I did that?”

“Yes. And I was beside myself. I called Mark and explained what happened after I rushed to the emergency room. He immediately started some research on why you did it. I continued to keep a watchful eye of things that you did and you seemed to be okay, until about a month later.”

“What did I do?” I asked, afraid of what was coming.

“I found you in your closet with the remains of your puppy, Lucy.”

I shook my head in disbelief, completely speechless. Tristen hugged me tighter.

“After that, Mark and I worked night and day to figure out what was wrong. You were eating regularly, and I was feeding you normal food, but your body was beginning to deteriorate. You were sluggish. Your hair began to fall out. It was like you were aging a thousand times faster than you should have been.”

“Normal food? What does that mean?” I asked.

“Normal food meaning, what Tristen and I eat.”

“I knew it,” Tristen mumbled.

I turned towards him. “You knew what?”

“That jerky you gave me last night. It didn’t taste like any jerky I’d ever had.”

“That’s because it’s not. It’s human meat.”

I stood up quickly, no longer able to contain myself. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me that the beef jerky you gave me is from a human? A person?”

“Yes. Grace. Everything you eat is from a human.”

Tristen remained seated as I began pacing around the living room. “So you’re saying that everything she eats is from a person. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“And snacks and juice. Yes.”

“Juice? The pomegranate juice? There is human meat in my juice?”

“It’s blood and fluids from a human,” Mom answered.

How could this be? “Mom, how can this be? How do you get it? How do you cook it? Tristen and Phoebe have eaten here before.”

“I acquire it from work,” she stated shamefully. “And the food I give out to your friends is not
your
food.”

“You steal dead people?” I asked. Never in my life would I have ever thought I’d ask a question like that.

“After you had eaten your dog Lucy, there were some very noticeable changes in your appearance. Your bouncy curls came back. Your coloring was no longer pale. And you were happy and full of energy. A theory was beginning to form. Some research and different methods were performed, and we soon came to realize that human flesh and meat were your source of survival. It was your lifeline.”

I sat back down beside Tristen. “So you’re saying that the only thing that was keeping me alive was eating humans?”

She ignored my question and continued on with the story. “Mark and I decided that it would be best for us to move out of California and start over. I wasn’t going to be able to continue my career with my injury. Mark knew someone at the mortuary here who would hire me. ”

Megan. “Did we have family?”

“I have a sister. Megan.” Tears formed once again in her eyes. “She has no idea where I am. Where we are.”

I chose to omit my recent stumble upon Megan’s phone number and actually talking to her. I was not sure what my mother would think about us communicating. And for some reason, I felt like that little bit of information she didn’t know could possibly help me in the future.

Mom continued. “I studied different tribes and cultures from all over the world that practice cannibalism. I learned how to cook with human meat and flesh and blood. And once I learned, it became all you ate.”

“So…you steal dead bodies from your work?” I asked again, awaiting her to finally answer it. I obviously knew the answer, but I needed to hear it for it to be real.

“I take little bits at a time when I am helping to perform autopsies.”

“But how do you do that without anyone knowing?” Tristen asked.

“I take small amounts then. And when they are being prepped for funerals, I take some from the waist down.”

It was making sense to me now. “No one sees that part in the casket,” I mumbled under my breath.

Mom didn’t respond.

“What is happening to me now? Why am I so hungry all the time? And why do I want to eat actually moving things?”

At that moment, the doorbell chimed.

Panic washed over me, and Tristen and I glanced at each other. They must have found Phoebe and Eric.