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Chapter 15
Jeff pulled his car to the curb across the street from Ashley’s house. He dropped the visor down and looked in the mirror. Blood shot eyes looked back at him.
He was tired. Tension knots rippled along his neck. Taking only gasoline refueling breaks, he had driven from Friday night through Saturday evening, searching around the area and surrounding neighborhoods of his office, scouring every street, driveway, alley, trashcan, and trash bin for Tina.
With his smart phone and credit card, he had enlisted the help of a private investigator to help search for the girl as well. Jeff wasn’t in need of money. He had saved enough from his seven-figure inheritance from his grandfather, his work as a psychotherapist, and from well calculated, if not lucky, investments in the stock market to retire now if he desired.
He just needed Tina back safe.
During his divorce, Cherie asked for seventy-five percent of their savings and their home. He had felt guilty for their marriage failing. Although Cherie never blamed him overtly, he felt that she held him responsible for their daughter’s death. He blamed himself as well, so he couldn’t fault Cherie. He voluntarily gave her the house, all their investments which included their Lexis and cherry Lamborghini, and eighty percent of their large savings.
Disgusted with the image of himself, he flipped the car’s visor back up.
Marie had said it was an emergency. It was 6:02 p.m. on a Saturday, but he took emergency calls anytime, seven days a week. The last thing he wanted was to lose a girl to suicide. He had already lost Tina to the dark, and he wouldn’t be able to handle losing Ashley.
He would lose himself if that happened.
When Bianca died from Leukemia four years ago, he had lost himself. It took years to pick up the pieces of his heart and go on with life. This pain still sat with him every hour of every day.
It would never leave.
In a way, he didn’t want it to leave. The pain was a type of connection to his daughter, validating that her life was a great loss, that she was so very important, and that she was special and loved beyond measure.
He never wanted to forget her. He longed to keep her with him in any way he could.
The reddish-orange haze from the sunset began fading as he remained seated in the Jaguar.
Coming to this home to help Ashley actually made him feel slightly better. It gave him some sense of power—power which he lacked in finding Tina and had lacked against Bianca’s cancer. He could do something to help Ashley. He was trained to help her.
As he walked across the street, his bag of therapeutic tools hanging on his left shoulder, police sirens rose in the distance. The sound of a helicopter roared in the sky. He looked up to spot it, but only found the darkening blue twilight, a few dozen meandering clouds, and two distant airplanes heading towards LAX.
His mind reeled since going to the black Santa Ana Mountains with Laura, waiting for answers she implied were there, but for him were nowhere. That woman made him question and wonder more than acquire solutions. This would be fine if they were in a philosophy class, but they weren’t. This was real life.
Hopefully he could give Ashley concrete answers. He walked rapidly up her driveway.
Marie opened the front door before he reached the steps to the landing. Anger bent the insides of her brows down. “She cut again last night.”
“That’s to be expected,” he assured. He wondered why Marie had waited so long to call him if she had cut last night though. “She’s hasn’t adopted other coping skills yet.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”
Climbing the steps, he corrected, “I like to call it an area for growth rather than a wrong. These words are more uplifting for her.”
Marie waved her hands in the air. “I tell her again and again not to cut. Don’t cut! It’s bad. She doesn’t listen to me. She never listens. It makes me sick. I didn’t raise her to be this way. Why is she like this? Can you tell me? You are the therapist.” She pointed at him from the doorway. “You should be able to tell me what’s wrong with my daughter.”
Jeff felt irritation at her lack of understanding and empathy for Ashley. “She’s just trying to cope. It’s best not to react with strong negative emotion.”
“I don’t know what to do anymore.” She turned away. “I’ve done all I can. I’ve broken my back for her, and she doesn’t appreciate anything. You deal with her.”
He followed her into the house.
He recalled the gray wolf. But it must have been elsewhere. Perhaps it was down the street, eating a dinner of neighborhood Rottweilers and Pit Bulls.
She stopped in the hall several feet before Ashley’s bedroom, but didn’t turn to face Jeff. “Is she doing this to drive me crazy? That’s it, isn’t it? She hates me.”
Despite feeling odd talking to her back, he answered, “I think we need to not take her actions personally. This helps to be nurturing, calm, yet assertive for her safety. If we react with strong emotion, she won’t have anything peaceful to anchor to. Her emotions are already escalating inside herself. She needs a connection to peace.”
“She hates me,” Marie spat. “I know it. I try my best, and this is how she repays me. What do I have to do? Lie on the ground so she steps all over me? Is that what you’re saying?”
He shook his head, despite her not being able to see.
“Well, I’m not a doormat! I can’t stand that she only thinks of herself. She’s going to get hers. Let me tell you. What comes around, goes around.”
He wondered how Ashley would feel if she were part of this conversation. He hoped she couldn’t hear her mother through the bedroom door. It made him sad and angry that her mother was so self-absorbed.
“I don’t know how much longer I can stand this. I work all day cleaning houses, then have to come home to this? It’s crazy. She doesn’t respect me. She doesn’t see how this hurts me. Instead, she sits in her room with all the lights on, wasting electricity, and cries. Then she expects me to be nice?” Marie raised her hands in the air. “I don’t know what I have to do. I tell you, I don’t deserve this. She’s all yours.” She took the next few steps and opened her daughter’s bedroom door, never facing Jeff.
The girl sat barefoot in white shorts on the bright yellow comforter on her neatly made bed. Pixie lay beside her, leaning against her thigh, licking his front paws clean.
Jeff entered the room and closed the door, feeling relieved to be away from her mother. “Hey Ashley.”
She didn’t respond.
“Did Pixie have any nightmares last night?”
She looked at Jeff. Even from across the room, her blue-gray eyes were arresting. He thought it strange meeting two girls, Tina and Ashley, in just the last couple of days with the same exotic eyes. “I hear you had a bad night.”
She looked down. Her wrists were concealed by the long sleeves of an oversized orange sweatshirt. Many cutters are ashamed of their injuries and conceal them with clothing. “I’m not the only one.”
“Pixie too?”
She shook her head.
“Who?”
She didn’t answer.
He moved to the bed and sat. “You want to tell me about it?”
“Scary.”
“What’s scary?”
“The dark.”
“Dark?” Jeff was getting sick of hearing about the power the dark had over good people.
“Yeah. And me.”
“You? You’re afraid of yourself?”
She looked into his eyes. “I’m a coward.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I won’t even face my fears for someone.”
He thought she might be talking about her mother. “I don’t think that’s true. You’ll face them when you can. There’s no rush.”
“There is.” She looked down again. “She needs me.”
“Marie?”
“A girl.”
He was relieved she wasn’t entangled in her mother’s sick self-absorption, trying to appease the woman. “We can only do what we can. How come this girl needs you so badly?”
“I’m the only one who knows …”
“Sometimes in saving ourselves, we save others.”
She looked up, confused. “What?”
“What hurt so much that you cut your wrists?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I’m sure I can follow.”
“I hate myself. I’m weak, pathetic.”
“You’re positive about that?”
“Yes,” she said, turning her head away.
“I doubt it.”
“So,” she countered, looking back into his eyes, appearing not wanting to argue so much as to hear more of his belief in her.
“Give me proof.”
“Why?”
“Because if you’re going to be critical of yourself, you should be truthful. You deserve that.”
Pixie suddenly rose from beside her, stretched his body, burped loudly, then curled back down.
Burped? Jeff didn’t know cats could do that. He had never heard a cat burp before. They were usually so prim and proper. Just what kind of kitten was this? That was a bit rude.
He looked back at Ashley.
She was smiling. It was his first time seeing her hold a steady smile, and it lit the room like a great lantern. He couldn’t help but smile back. Her emotion was so genuine, tender, and vulnerable it spread throughout him.
“He does that sometimes,” she said. “He doesn’t know it’s impolite.”
“Well, he is just a kitten.”
Just then, as though following the conversation and insulted, Pixie released a long, squeaky fart, looked up at Jeff, and stuck his pink tongue out, licking his lips.
She laughed. “Sorry. He does that too sometimes.”
Jeff laughed as well. “Nothing for you to apologize about.” He felt a bit weirded out by the rude kitten. “He’s just a … well, let’s just say the same etiquette for us doesn’t apply to animals.”
Pixie winked, as though agreeing, then burped again.
He was beginning to respect his decision not to own pets—given the strange sexual reaction of Graisse the Bichon Frise, the intimidating demeanor of Rocky the wolf, and now the flatulence of Pixie the kitten.
He looked back at Ashley. This girl really was special. When she was happier, smiling and laughing, she exuded astonishing energy and vitality. “So why do you believe you’re pathetic?” He reached into his shoulder bag for a pair of magnets to use as a therapeutic metaphor conveying that we attract negativity by thinking negative thoughts.
Her smile sank into a frown. “I didn’t save Tina.”
He dropped the magnets on the floor. “Who?” He bent down to pick them up.
“I think her name is Tina. She …”
“Yes?” he said with unexpected force.
“… got lost.”
“Where?” The magnets clicked together in his hands, opposite poles attracting.
“In the dark.”
He swallowed hard. How could she know about Tina? Now he felt weak, pathetic and vulnerable. He had allowed that girl to disappear yesterday, and for what? Just to conquer her fear, which was justified to begin with.
To maintain patient confidentiality, he didn’t mention Tina’s last name, but asked, “Do you know her full name?”
“No. I barely got her first name.”
He pulled apart the magnets and let them click back together. “Got? Got from where?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What happened to Tina?”
“I don’t know.”
He was overcome by desperation and took her hand in his. “If you know anything, tell me, Ashley. I might be able to help.”
Her eyes meet his. She hesitated. “Do you know Tina?”
He dared to say, “I know of a Tina. Maybe the same girl.”
“Were you there when she got lost?”
He released her hand. With reluctance, he said, “I think so.”
She began to cry.
“It’s okay,” he assured. We’re going to find her.”
“I hope she’s okay. I hope she’s not going through … stuff I went through.”
“What stuff?”
She lowered her head.
“Do you know how to get to Tina?”
Ashley nodded. “But I’m too scared to try alone.”
He felt a rush of excitement. “You don’t have to. I’ll get her.”
She was silent. “Come back tonight, after dark.”
He swallowed hard. “What’s so special about the dark?”
“It lives there.”