Rumors (15 page)

I walked
for a couple of hours on a mostly secluded hike, distancing myself
from my usual running trails, and in the complete opposite
direction of the river. Never again did I want to see or hear the
tormenting, mocking sounds from the river I once loved so
much.

By the
time I returned from my walk, my family was loading the last few
bags into the trunk of our suburban. Aunt Heidi and Uncle Bill were
already seated in their sedan, the motor running, ready to escape
Hidden Pines. I noticed my bag in Dad’s hand. Someone had finished
packing for me.

“
We’re just about to lock up,” Dad said, gingerly touching my
shoulder with his hand. “Go ahead and grab a seat.” He opened the
back door for me.

I looked
back at forth between the two cars, eying the empty seat in Aunt
Heidi and Uncle Bill’s back row. A hit of reality stole my breath
again. I shook my head slowly, back and forth.

Maddie
should be here, like she always was—babbling away and insisting
that I ride in her car. I marched towards the cabin, shoving the
door open.

“
Allie, where are you going?” Dad called after me, his
footsteps following me into my bedroom. I looked around the empty
room, less tidy than I normally left it. Candy wrappers lay
crinkled on my nightstand, and the drawers remained half-opened, as
though someone had rummaged through them.

“
We can’t go.” My words were barely a whisper.

“
What did you say?” Dad asked, leaning towards me. “Your
sisters finished packing for you. I think they grabbed all the
essentials.”

“
No,” I said, my eyes glazing over as I stared at Maddie’s
unkempt bed. “We can’t leave without her.” I sat down, gathering
her pillow in my arms. Numbness crept up my body, from my toes to
the top of my head, but not enough to deaden the pressure rising in
my chest and crawling up my throat.

“
Allison…” Dad held his hand up as though trying to keep
whatever emotion was overcoming me at bay. His eyebrows furrowed,
as though uncertain what to do. “We need to go, honey.” He put a
hand on my arm, trying to pull me to my feet.

Something snapped inside of me—whatever was left of me to
break.

“
No!” I screamed. “We can’t leave her!”

Dad
tried to console me, wrapping his arms around me. I fought his
restraint, screaming Maddie’s name. I don’t recall the details of
the next few minutes, though I remember Dad scooping me up in his
arms while I continued to sob and fight. Uncle Bill met Dad at the
front door, his face alarmed.

“
She’s lost it,” Dad tried to say under his breath, but I
heard him perfectly clear.

Lost it.
Lost her.

Lost
Maddie—I let her die.

Dad and
Uncle Bill continued to restrain me, all while forcefully buckling
me into my seat.

“
What should we do?”

“
Is she going to be ok?” My sisters’ voices echoed beside me
from their seated positions in the suburban. Once strapped inside,
my thrashing subsided, my face buried against the hard window. I
exhaled shuddering breaths, embarrassed and exhausted.

As we
drove through the twists and turns of the canyon and descended the
mountain, I kept my eyes to the road, refusing to look
back.

PRESENT

With
trembling hands, I closed the notebook. The pen dropped from my
grasp. Flexing my fingers, I rubbed the cramp in my right
hand.

It was
done. The lamp on my desk was probably the only light on in the
house, since I had written well into the night. With a heavy yawn,
I rubbed my eyes, feeling the burn of dried-up tears. My counselor,
Ms. Carol, didn’t know what she was talking about. Maddie’s story
was written down, but it was very much still in my head, festering
in a dark part of my soul. It would never be out of my
head.

Not
bothering to change into pajamas, I pulled back the covers and fell
onto my bed. With a shuddering breath, I laid my aching head onto
my pillow, but I was afraid to close my eyes—too afraid that what I
had written would be relived in my nightmares.

I must
have succumbed to sleep eventually because it was Mom’s knocking on
the door that woke me.

“
Good morning, honey. Sorry to wake you, but your father
called. He wants to talk to you about something.” Her voice sounded
terse.

Groggy,
I accepted Mom’s cell phone, still keeping my head on the pillow. I
closed my eyes for a moment. “Hi, Dad. Why are you calling so
early?”

Our
conversation only lasted ten minutes but, by the end of it, I was
on my feet, pacing the floor. My fingernails crept to my mouth,
bringing back an old habit that I had kicked years ago.

Blackmail.

Dad’s
“proposal” was plain and simple blackmail. He had received word
from the school about my unproductive counseling sessions (and by
“received word,” I knew that meant he’d been frequently inquiring,
since I didn’t talk to him that often). No doubt, he had also been
talking to Mom and my sisters about my well-being, since he
referenced how much I was running again. In his words, because I
seemed “to be struggling with Maddie’s death,” he insisted that we
spend the summer together—but not back in Danville, California
where I grew up. He wanted me to spend at least a month with him
back at Hidden Pines like we always did—back where Maddie
drowned.

“
Are you insane?” I asked, anxiety building in my chest and
creeping up my throat. “I’m never going back there.”

“
Your reaction is exactly why I want you to come with me,” Dad
said. “Before you go off to college, I need to know that you are
taking care of yourself—that you’re doing ok, despite what
happened.”

I don’t
know how many ways I said no, but he refused to budge. Finally, I
said, “You can’t make me go. What are you going to do, pull the
‘money card’?”

There
was silence on the other end for too long.

I
gasped. “You are, aren’t you? You’re really going to withhold my
college funding this year if I don’t go?”

Dad
tried to sugarcoat his response, like he was being a responsible
father and blackmailing out of love. “I’m just trying to do what’s
best for you. I need to know that you can handle being on your
own,” he said again. “Besides, I’d like you, Leah, and Taylor to
spend some time with Clara and Nick anyway.”

Clara
and Nick—Dad’s new wife and stepson. I’d only met them a handful of
times before Dad and Clara married last summer. It was within a
month of Maddie’s funeral, so the timing was unfortunate and
awkward. I also had little tolerance for Clara’s seventeen-year-old
son, and I was sure the feeling was mutual.

My
conversation with Dad ended with me offering the silent treatment,
knowing I had lost. I thought about rebelling and venturing to pay
for college on my own—but I also knew that was a stupid move,
long-term. A lot of kids would kill to have parents who could
afford to send them through college. One month. Maybe I could
handle one month.

The
thought sent me dry heaving over the trashcan beside my desk,
thankful, (in between heaves), that I hadn’t eaten much the night
before. Rising to my feet, I stared at the full spiral notebook and
the gnawed pen, dreading the onset of summer.

It had
been against my will when they tore me from the cabin, thrashing
and screaming that we couldn’t leave without Maddie—and now, it was
against my will that they were bringing me back.

Erica
Kiefer was born on Christmas Eve in Southern California
to an American father whose ancestors arrived from Europe during
colonial times and a Thai mother who moved to the US during high
school. Adding to her rich and varied heritage, Erica grew up
living abroad in Asia, including Taiwan, Fiji, Thailand and
Indonesia. She gained a great respect for the beautiful mosaic of
cultures found in various parts of the world. After graduating from
International School Bangkok, she attended Brigham Young
University in Utah, where she earned a degree in Recreation
Therapy. Her career as a Recreation Therapist has allowed her to
work with at-risk youth since 2007.

Erica
made the best decision of her life by marrying her husband in
2005 and is currently a mother of three, one of whom
awaits her in heaven. Erica also loves singing, reading,
writing, and satisfying her sweet-tooth with chocolate-chip
cookies.