Come Back To Me (2 page)

Cara grabbed some clean clothes and locked herself in the bathroom. She sat on the edge of the tub as it filled with hot water. Suddenly the lunch she’d eaten hours ago felt like lead in her stomach and she vomited into the toilet.

∗    ∗    ∗

Cara had no appetite for supper that evening.

“Are you sick?” Her mom looked her up and down.

“Maybe a little.”

Her mom touched her forehead. “No fever. You probably just had too much sun today. What did you do after school?”

“Nothing.” Cara’s voice shook. “I got kind of sweaty playing basketball at lunch so I took a bath and then I did my homework.”

“Basketball . . . ? Really? Must you be such a tomboy?”

“She could be coming down with something,” said her dad. “Dave didn’t come in to work today. He wasn’t feeling well.”

“Should I give them a call? I saw Marcia pull into their driveway about an hour ago.”

“No, I’ll walk over and check on him.” He turned to Cara. “Do you want to come to the Walker’s with me?”

“N-No,” she stuttered. “I still have some schoolwork.”

“Suit yourself.” He turned back to his meal. “Louise, did you get a bill yet for the new lawnmower?”

Their conversation barely registered.

“Cara, Cara . . . ? Are you listening to me?” Her mother sounded as irritated as ever. “If you’re just going to sit there like a bump on a log you may as well go to your room. You already took your bath so if you’re not feeling well put yourself to bed. I’ll be up later to say good night.”

Cara excused herself and went to brush her teeth. Despite the fact that it was way before her bedtime, she climbed into bed. The sheets slid over her, smooth and soft against her legs. She felt as if her very presence soiled them. She wanted to cry again, but then her mother would want to know why she was crying and Cara knew she could never tell her. It was impossible. Her mother would never forgive such behavior. Besides, Cara didn’t even have the words to explain what had happened.

Uncomfortable, Cara tossed and turned. The place between her legs burned, but she didn’t know what to do about it. At least the bleeding had stopped. She wondered how she could ever face Karen again. What if Karen found out? What if the minute Karen looked at her she could tell what had happened? Cara had never been good at keeping a secret. As she lay there, staring at the ceiling, she decided this was one secret she’d bury very deep. She’d have to if she wanted to remain friends with Karen and stay out of trouble. Her mother would be furious if she found out.

How would she stay away from Mr. Walker? Cara never wanted to see him again, but she had no way to avoid him. What if he wanted to do it again? What would she say? He was bigger than her, he was stronger, and he was their neighbor and her father’s law partner.

Besides, he said he did it because he loved her. How could someone say they love you, and then do that to you?

When she heard the door creak open, Cara pretended to be asleep.

Her mother said, “Maybe she is sick.”

Cara kept her back turned away and stared at the wall. She had to make sure she was never alone with Mr. Walker. That’s what she had to do. She’d never go to Karen’s house again if he was the only person home, never. She could manage that. He was hardly ever home anyway. She had to forget this. She had to forget this ever happened. Everything would go back to the way it was. She and Karen would still be best friends. Mr. Walker would still be her father’s golfing buddy. The two families would still throw that big Christmas party together. It would be okay.

Cara reached up and touched her cheeks, surprised to find they were wet. She didn’t even realize she’d been crying.

T
he morning had grown hot and Cara lay on her bed, reading. She heard someone enter through screen door. Whoever it was tried to be quiet, but the screen door made a soft, metallic scraping sound whenever it was opened or closed. She bolted upright. She was supposed to be home alone.

After her parents left for Des Moines she’d locked the front door behind them, but the day was so warm she’d left the heavy back door wide open. The gates were closed and latched. She hadn’t expected anyone to come through the backyard. It couldn’t be Karen. She and her mother had left yesterday to visit relatives in Idaho. It couldn’t be her parents either. They’d driven away only an hour ago, and besides, they would have come through the garage.

Cara’s skin prickled. She was trapped in her bedroom. The only way out of the house was down the stairs, and he was there, Mr. Walker was there, she knew it. She tiptoed to the door of her room, listening. She didn’t hear the sound of footsteps, but she was certain someone was walking around because every so often she’d hear a floorboard squeak. She wondered, for an instant, if it was all her imagination. Maybe she was just a “nervous Nellie”, as her mom had been calling her for the past month.

Then she heard his voice. “Cara? Are you up there? Your mom and dad asked me to check on you while they’re gone.”

Cara’s legs began to shake. For the most part, she had managed to avoid Mr. Walker since the thing that happened in his basement. Twice, he’d caught her alone in Karen’s bedroom, once when Karen had been in the bathroom. That time he tried to kiss her, but when Karen flushed the toilet, he left in a hurry. The second time, he’d come home early while she and Karen were up in Karen’s bedroom. He’d sent Karen downstairs to help her mother with supper. He said, “I’ll walk Cara home.”

Cara hadn’t known what to do. She’d nodded her head and tried to push past him, hurrying after Karen, but he’d blocked the doorway. He’d grabbed for her, pressing his hips against hers, shoving his hands under her shirt. Cara had stood frozen in place, unable to utter a single word. She’d been terrified Karen might hear. Or worse, Mrs. Walker might hear. That time he had held her jaw with his hand so she couldn’t turn her head away. He’d tasted like stale tobacco.

Just the memory made Cara gag.

Now he’d come into her own home when she was all alone. She had to figure out what to do before he came upstairs. The door to her bedroom was open. She didn’t dare shut it now. He would know for sure she was home. With a quick motion, Cara smoothed the quilt on her bed. Her closet door sat ajar. Cara gauged the opening. She was just thin enough to slip through without touching anything. If she crawled on the floor she wouldn’t disturb the hanging clothes.

Cara slipped past the door, going down onto her knees and then onto her belly, sliding carefully along the hardwood floor towards the back of the closet.

The closet was the reason Cara had chosen this bedroom when they’d moved in. The roof angled down at the far end. It was so low that anyone taller than four feet couldn’t stand upright. Her father had installed shelving for her books and shoes and he’d left a space behind the shelves that was just large enough for one child to sit and play.

Trying hard to ignore the approaching footsteps, she climbed over the shelves. If she thought about Mr. Walker and what he might do, she’d make some kind of noise. Cara dare not give herself away. The closet was dark and she was hidden by hanging clothes, shoeboxes and books. There was enough room for her to lay down flat on her stomach below the sloping roof. If Mr. Walker wanted to find her, he’d have to crawl into her closet on his hands and knees, and then reach over the shelves and feel for her. As far as Cara could tell, if she stayed right where she was, she would be invisible.

Cara heard the door to her room creak open.

“Hey, anybody home?”

Cara pressed her chest against the floor, biting her lip to keep from making a sound.

“Cara?”

It seemed to Cara he was standing right in front of the closet. Feeling air move over her bare legs, Cara knew he’d opened the closet door. She squeezed her eyelids shut, terrified of what Mr. Walker would do if he found her.

“Cara?”

She was suddenly very grateful her father had never remembered to install a light in her closet. She breathed through her mouth, making an effort to keep each breath shallow and quiet, just like she did whenever her mother was in one of her moods.

She could hear him shuffling her hanging clothes around, but even if he took them all out, he wouldn’t see her way in the back. Besides, she knew he wouldn’t take her clothes out. If he did, her mom might ask her questions and Mr. Walker wanted to keep everything a secret. He wouldn’t want her to have to answer questions. When the clothes stopped moving, Cara blew out a long, slow exhale.

She listened for a long time. She didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean Mr. Walker had left the house. For all she knew, he could be sitting on her bed. She wondered how longer it would be before her parents got home. They’d been gone more than an hour. She imagined they’d go to lunch before shopping, so the soonest she could expect them back would be suppertime. Unless Mr. Walker got tired of waiting and went home she’d be stuck on the floor in the back of her closet for a long time.

Cara’s mind darted back and forth, her imagination working overtime. Was he sitting on her bed? Standing in the hallway? Waiting for her in the kitchen? Maybe he’d walked back across the yard, through his own gate and into his own home. Short of leaving the closet she had no way of knowing anything. How long could she stay there? Not moving? Barely breathing? She already needed to use the bathroom, and her muscles were beginning to cramp.

But Cara was scared. If she left the closet and he was waiting in her room, he’d be angry that she’d hidden from him, upset that she didn’t trust him. He was her dad’s law partner and close friend, their next door neighbor and Karen’s father.

Cara wondered if all he really did want to do was check on her. Maybe she should trust him. He was an adult, and her mother had always told her she was supposed to trust adults to know what was best for her. Her mother told her to be respectful and do as she was told.

Cara decided she was being silly. She rose to a crouch, climbing back over the bookshelves. Mr. Walker had probably gone home. She peeked through the closet door. Her room was empty. Cara let out a sigh of relief and got to her feet. That’s when she saw him, leaning against the wall. He came towards her, slamming her bedroom door behind him.

“Why were you hiding from me? What are you afraid of?”

“I-I wasn’t hiding,” Cara stuttered. “I was . . . I was cleaning my closet and I thought I heard a burglar so I-I kept quiet.”

“You didn’t hear my voice? I called for you.”

“Um, no, I, uh, I heard something but I didn’t know it was you. I’m fine, Mr. Walker. You can go home. I’m fine.”

“You’re afraid of me Cara. Why are you afraid?”

Cara tried to stop her legs from shaking. “I’m-I’m not afraid. I was just surprised someone was in the house.”

“I told you I’d never hurt you, Cara. I told you I love you like my own daughter. I’d never, never hurt you.”

Mr. Walker moved closer. He ran his hand along the side of her face.

“You are such a beautiful girl. I really want to kiss you. Will you let me kiss you? There’s no reason to be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”

“No, Mr. Walker, I’d rather not. I don’t want to kiss you.” Cara backed away from him.

He grabbed for her wrist. Cara jerked her arm out of his reach. She shook her head.

“No, Mr. Walker, I’m not doing that again.”

“C’mon, honey, I promise it won’t hurt this time. Remember? I told you it wouldn’t hurt the next time, that maybe you’d like it.”

“No!” Cara surprised herself by shouting at him. “I’m not doing it again.”

“Cara, honey, calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Then get out of my room.”

Mr. Walker sat on her bed. He patted the spot next to him. “Sit.”

Cara shook her head. She backed toward the door.

“Do you want me to tell your mom and dad that you hid in your closet when I came to check on you today? Do you want them to ask you why? They might think it’s a pretty disrespectful thing to do.”

“You won’t tell them,” Cara said. “Because they might find out what you did to me. I don’t think you were supposed to do that. My dad doesn’t do that.”

Mr. Walker laughed. “Sure he does, Cara. He does it all the time. Just not with you. He does it with his secretary, Elaine. She doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Uh-uh. He does not. I don’t believe you.” Cara felt a cold sensation spread through her chest.
Her father and Miss Madsen doing that?
It was unthinkable. She pushed the revolting picture out of her mind. Her father wouldn’t do that. Not with Miss Madsen. She wasn’t even very old, maybe twenty-one or twenty-two.

“Cara, be a big girl and come over here. I won’t hurt you.”

“No.” She opened her bedroom door and made for the stairs.

Mr. Walker moved fast. He was on her in two seconds. He wrapped one hand around her waist, pressing the other over her mouth when Cara let out a shriek. He dragged her back into her room. He threw her down on the floor next to her bed and stood over her.

Her eyes wide, she watched him unbuckle his belt.

“I don’t want to hurt you, unless you make me hurt you. If you fight me, I promise you it will hurt. If you go along with me, if you do what I tell you, I won’t hurt you. I promise you that. I’m doing this because I love you, Cara. Don’t make me hurt you because if I have to, I will.”