Barbie World (Baby Doll Series) (14 page)

“Ooops.” I smile at him and pull the trigger again.

“Hey!” He ducks out of the way and I get him on the shoulder. He drops the plate in his hand and leaps over the counter. I laugh and spray him again, but he ducks out of the way. Kai begins to army crawl around the counter.

“I can see you,” I warn him. I stay armed, ready to shoot as soon as I get an opening.

“When I get a hold of you, you are going to be sorry,” he calls from behind the safety of the counter.
Chicken.

“Stay back. I am warning you.” I aim my hose in his direction, but he is too fast and he twists out of the way before he runs at me. I swerve, not fast enough, and try to spray him, but he grabs me from behind, lifting me off my feet, then grabs onto the hose and I hang onto it for dear life as together we spray it in the air, sending a shower over us. I squeal and try to wiggle out of his hold. His arms, however, stay tight around me.

“Hey, you two, knock it off. Those dirty plates are not going to clean themselves. And her short and annoying is asking for another S.T.” Roxie comes in, holding a bucket of dirty dishes. Kai gives me a shrewd smile and we aim the hose at Roxie who jumps behind the door in the nick of time. “You guys are assholes,” she calls from the safety of behind the door. Kai aims the hose at the door, spraying the floor. “Grow up,” Roxie says. Kai releases me and kisses me in the same movement.

“Fine,” he says.

I turn back to the sink. “Fine what?” I ask.

“Fine, I will meet your… guardians,” he says, like he is doing me a favor.

“Don’t worry about it.” I shut off the water.

“No, really, I want to meet them.”

“Okay.” I smile.

###

Roxie drops me off at the house. When I open the front door, I expect to find everyone sleeping, but instead, I walk right into the Knights. Did they wait up for me? The grave looks that they wear on their faces make my heart drop. I shut the door behind me, swallowing hard. I suddenly want to run. I feel like I walked straight into a trap.

“Barbie, we need to speak to you.” Mrs. Knight pats the blue cushion next to her. My heart starts to pound. I knew it was too good to be true. She is about to pull the plug on our little situation. She changed her mind about me or she must have found out about Dylan and I.

I make my way to her, my feet feeling like weights, yet my body is rigid, ready to run. I sit down next to her and avoid eye contact. Mr. Knight sits in the recliner, his brows furrowed, hands folded under his chin, deep in thought. I stare down at my chipped blue nail polish on my fingers and begin to nervously pick at it some more.

“This is hard for us to say.” She glances at her husband. “I guess there is no easy way to say it, but, that man… Ronnie has been seen around town. Oh honey, I know this is hard for you.” She scoops up my hand in hers. “We are here for you if there is anything you want to talk about.” I stare at my hand in hers unable to say anything. I feel numb inside, that numbness I have been crazing has finely come, and it is not from any boy. No this time the numbness comes from the man that tried to kill me.

“The police ensured us that they are going to get him.” Mr. Knight says, his eyes wear the same dark expression as Dylan when he is angry. “The detective might be stopping back by to ask you some more questions about that night. Anything that you can remember that was not told to the police might help bring him in.” Mrs. Knight shivers and I, too, feel a cold shiver run up my neck. “I know you are scared.” Mr. Knight’s soft eyes, so filled with concern, scare me. Why is he concerned? Is it because of the danger I am now putting his family through?

“I am not scared!” I blurt out.

The Knights exchange a look between them. “Still we don’t think that it would be wise if you go anywhere by yourself for now. Stay close to the house. Dylan will take you anywhere you need to go, or I and Allen.” I nod my head, not wanting to bring any more stress to the night than I already have. Mrs. Knight starts to say something, but clams up quickly, deciding against it.

“I will be careful, I promise,” I reassure them. “I swear!” I say louder this time. I look at Mrs. Knight, pleading with my eyes for her to believe me and not to send us packing. She bites at her bottom lip.

“I know you will. I just can’t stand the thought of that man finding you or Everett. If he can do that to an innocent child like Everett, what else is he capable of… I will call detective Richard and let him know he can come on by.” She glance’s nervously at her husband and I stand to leave. “Barbie, if you need to talk to us about anything, we are here.”

I smile at Mr. and Mrs. Knight “No, I have been dealing with my mom’s men a long time…I am okay.” I am not okay, though.

I make my way back up to my room before coming apart. I crawl into the bed and pull the blanket over my head, burying my face into my pillow so the Knights don’t hear the sobs that escape my mouth.

July
Fear…it wraps around me like a blanket…

Chapter 17
.
Dylan

I tie pink and purple streamers on the oak tree. Taking a step back, I look up at the old oak. I know she has been shimmying down it at night. I hate the thought of her risking her life to sneak out. I hate the thought even more of who she is sneaking out to see, but what right do I have to say anything. She is not mine anymore. I sigh. Maybe I could cut the tree down, but she would find a way out. I don’t think anything can cage her in and I don’t want too; just stop her from seeing the one who is trying to steal her from me.

“Is it looking good, Dill?” My mom spills some of the pink punch out of the bowl and nearly drenches herself, but she is too fast, dodging her feet from the sticky, pink mess. She sets the sloshing mix onto the table next to a three tier pink and white cake. For my birthday, all I got was an ice cream cake and a few birthday cards. Emmy doesn’t know how lucky she’s got it. “Will you go see if your sister and Everett are ready yet? The guests will be here in a few moments,” my mom calls over her shoulder at me.

I walk passed my dad, who is sitting in his recliner in socks and pink fairy wings with a crown sitting on top of his head. He is licking a cup cake Emmy must have got for him.

“Nice wings, Dad,” I say to him as I take the stairs two at a time. “Emmy,” I call out for her before I slide to a halt because standing outside her door is Barbie and, for a moment, I am transported into every dork’s fantasy of the elfin world.

She has her hair wrapped up in two buns on each side of her head like princess Leia with pink and gold ribbons curling out of them. Her lids are dusted in blue glitter and she wears a baby pink dress with a tulle skirt. Gold fairy wings stick out of her back and her feet are bare with glitter on them, traveling up her legs.

“Wow,” is all I can manage to say.

A smile tugs on the corner of her mouth. “Really?” She spins around so I can take in the full view of her and I am amazed how she can be transformed into something so magical yet fitting. She looks like the angel I love.

“Yeah, I have never seen anyone so beautiful.” Her cheeks flush.

“Thanks. I’ve never been to a birthday party before,” she confesses.

“Really?” I am shocked by her confession.

“No, never. I know this sounds stupid, but I am really excited.” She rocks back and forth on her feet like a little kid.

“That’s not stupid. You know what is stupid? I kind of want to go put on my Legolas Greenleaf costume.”

Her brows scrunch. “Who?”

I shake my head in shock of her lack of pop culture knowledge. “Lord of the Rings.”

She shrugs, still clueless, “Oh-kay, well, I will see you at the party.” She points over her shoulder and slips down the stairs.

I think Emmy invited the whole elementary school. I bet my mom is having second thoughts about those pixie sticks she handed out. I try to capture the red and blue mouthed fairies that zoom around the yard. I settle on the fairy that is sitting on the grass next to… I don’t know what, and a hobbit. I snap a picture of the three of them and walk over.

“Who are you supposed to be?” I zoom in on Roxie’s face while she scowls at me when I snap a picture of her.

“Um, a flipping fairy, can’t you tell? And who are you supposed to be? An annoying jerk who judges people at first glance? You know, people who live in glass houses shouldn’t through stones,” she snaps. Wow, she is a bitch. I know she blames me for that night, but she doesn’t have to bite my head off. I decide to take some of my mom’s advice and kill her with kindness.

“You are right. I shouldn’t judge. I’ve just never seen a costume like that before and I think it is really cool.” Her mouth opens and shuts before she mumbles a thank you. Barbie is grinning at the interaction between us. Roxie is Barbie’s friend and, if I can get her on my side, perhaps that will help my chances of getting Barbie back.

“Dude, when you said it was a fairy party, I thought that meant to dress up, not wear the same shirt three days in a row. Where is your Legolas Costume?” Third asks. I pick up the hem of my T-shirt and sniff the collar. It’s clean.

“Dude, I said it is a seven-year-old girl’s fairy party.” I snap a picture of Frodo.

“Hey, wait, get me holding my sword in a battle pose. “

After a photo shoot with Frodo, my mom calls everyone to do the cake.

“Wait, where is Everett? I promised him he could help blow the candles out.” Emmy says, scanning over the heads of the crowd around her.

I too start to look around. I just saw him a few moments ago, playing with a group of girls on the play set. The play set is empty, the swings blow eerily with the wind.

“He must have gone inside the house. I’ll go get him,” Barbie says and jogs into the house.

Chapter 18.
Barbie

My heart beats wildly against my chest and my stomach drops to the floor. The house is empty. I start to think irrational thoughts as I jog around the house, calling his name. What if, while we were out back, Everett came inside and Ronnie came looking for me, but found him instead? What if he wandered off and got hurt? A million thoughts run through my mi
nd at a hundred miles an hour.

Mr. Knight meets me around the house. “He is not here,” I say in a panic. “He is not-Oh, my God, what if-”

Mr. Knight cuts me off. “It is going to be okay. We are going to find him. The other parents are looking in the neighboring property and Amy is on the phone with the police right now. Has he ever wandered off before?” Mr. Knight asks me.

“Only once. He went to the Twisted Treat,” I say breathlessly. I feel like I am going to throw up.

“Okay, I will go there. You and Dylan go drive up and down the roads, see if you can find him.” He takes off running to his car.

Dylan is behind me. “Come on.”

We drive up and down every road, calling out his name, but there is no sign of him. Not a discarded crown or a footprint in the sand. “Where could he have gone,” I choke as Dylan turns onto the highway. “This is all my fault.” My leg bounces up and down nervously.

“This is not your fault,” Dylan tries to reassure me.

“No, it is. He is my responsibility. If I was watching him… “

He grabs my hand, holding it firmly between his. “It is okay. We are going to find him.” His words are soothing, his hand grounding. My legs still. We make a second loop around the neighborhood and still no Everett.

Dylan gets off the phone with his mother; they still haven’t found Everett. “Let’s go back to my house,” I say. It is the last place I think he will go, but I need to make sure.

“But my mom said he wasn’t there,” Dylan protests. It is funny that he considers his house mine, but I feel like an unwanted guest there.

“No, not your house, my house.” He looks like he wants to protest, but he turns his truck in that direction.

The house is dark and leering, just like the night I waged a war on it. Dylan kills the engine and, for a moment, I hesitate, fear numbs me and I feel frozen. I swallow back a scream that threatens to escape. Dylan is right next to me, his face set with determination. His jaw working back and forth.

There is no sign of Everett and neither one of us call out his name, afraid to wake the resting demons. The afternoon sun offers little light, but it’s not dark enough to hide what happened here that night. Dylan’s sharp inhale tells me he spotted what I am trying to avoid looking at. The rusty color of dried blood that paints the hallway.

“Back here, he might be back here,” I whisper, leading him down the familiar hall. I check my old room; it is just like I left it that night. Scattered make up on top of the dresser and a spool of blue ribbon tangled on the bed that I used to tie around my waist, but no Everett. We open closets, look under beds, but he is not here. We next go into my mother’s room; it is alive with past memories. A knocked over dresser, broken glass, a spilled whiskey bottle. I suck in the air that is stifling and heavy going down. The dirty smell of smoke turns my stomach.

“Here he is, over here,” Dylan’s voice snaps me out of my comma.

Everett is sitting in the corner. My mother’s robe swallowing him up. He is drawing on the wall with a broken red crayon; elaborate swirls and shapes that overlap each other into an intricate design.

“I call them maps,” I say, feeling like I need to defend his odd behavior.

“It is amazing,” Dylan says. I look up at him and see he believes his own words. I can see the awe in his eyes. I sit down next to Everett and kiss the top of his head. Dylan sits down next to me, wrapping his arms around his knees.

“I just wish I knew what they meant. I know it is a clue into his world, but I don’t know what he is trying to say.”

“I don’t think it really matters so much what he is saying, just that he is being heard,” Dylan says. Everett’s crayon stills and he looks at Dylan. “That is cool, buddy,” Dylan says out loud as he slowly signs to him. Everett turns back to the wall. “I am going to call my mom and tell her we found him.” Dylan leaves the room.

I look back at Everett. “Hey, bud, you scared me,” I tell him. I don’t sign to him because I am not that good yet. “You can’t take off like that again. You really scared me.” He makes no movement that lets me know he heard or understood me.

I lean against the wall, not ready to make him stop. I know he misses my mother and doesn’t understand why she has not come for him or why she went away. I let him work it out in his own way because he deserves that. God knows I have been working it out my own way

I glance around the room; my mother’s closet is open, a few dresses hang off the hangers, scattered shoes are lying on the floor.

Something catches my eye; it is not shiny or new. It is an old shoebox with tattered edges and looks like it is about to fall apart at any moment. It looks like it was held onto for a while and that is what catches my attention. My mother never hung onto anything. No memories of the past.

I leave Everett to map and crawl over to the closet, plucking out the contents. My mouth goes dry as I open the lid. My mother cared about something enough to hang on to it. I start to pull the items out one by one and lay them on the floor next to me; a doll, a necklace with a small music note charm on it, newspaper clippings of unknown bands, and a small plastic hospital bracelet with Everett’s name on it, a lock of brown hair and a postcard. It is the postcard that has me frozen. It is just a few hurried scribbles, but the scribbles have the power to change everything.