Sal drove back to school to pick up Rosie and Carl.
They didn’t speak.
Sal and Rosie dropped Carl off at home and drove on to the Adler Residence. The ride felt long and tedious, and Sal didn’t hear a word Rosie said to him.
As they drove up to the front of Louise's house, Sal felt sick.
Cold sweat triggered by his anxiety left his skin cool and damp. The subliminal messages in his head ran amok to an extent he'd never experienced before. Usually, the subtle messages fed his brain information, and he'd slowly absorb it, but what he was going through now was different in that he was unable to control any of it.
Something was definitely not right.
His stomach shifted uneasily, and he noticed Rosie’s hand on his.
“We’re here,” she said in a strained voice.
As they got out of the car, it was as if time had slowed, and Sal’s stomach knotted up.
The house was, what some folk would say, located in the less desirable part of town, in a low-income housing area. The four-bedroom house had a low-pitched, hipped roof, attic dormer, and square porch columns. The house suffered from a lack of attention. Everything about it seemed broken or worn down, and the front door was no exception, and the garden was uncared for, overgrown with weeds and out of control.
As they stepped closer to the front door, Sal felt like he was being torn apart on the inside, pulled in opposite directions, caught between differing needs. He couldn’t see straight.
Rosie knocked on the faded front door which threatened to fall over with each knock. When no one answered, Sal sighed in relief and started to walk back to the bus, but when he looked back over his shoulder to check on Rosie, the front door slowly opened.
“What do you want?” a slightly hoarse voice asked.
“I was worried—I mean, we were worried, since you weren’t at school today,” Rosie answered calmly.
Rosie got pushed aside when Louise stepped out on the porch. She pointed angrily at Sal and said in a squeaky voice, “He told you, didn’t he! He said he wouldn’t!”
Her eyes shifted to the side and became glazed with a glassy layer of tears, indicating she was screaming for help on the inside.
Sal tried to speak, but he couldn’t. He put one hand on the bus for support.
“Carl likes you, Louise, very much, and he wants to help you,” Rosie said in a tender voice while putting a hand on Louise’s shoulder.
Louise looked so fragile there on the porch. Thoughts seemed to loop around inside her head, and she wobbled backward and fell into a dirty basket chair. “Dad’s missing," Louise said quietly. "I can’t find him or reach him anywhere.” She put her elbows on her knees and stared down at the ground. “Larten won’t stop crying.”
Rosie sat down in front of her. “We can help you look for him.”
Louise sat up straight as if she'd been stung by the words. Something dark inside of her started to wake up. Fear seemed to materialize inside of her and hover around her body. As she sat there, it was as if she'd stepped out of the shadows.
She became an open book, mirroring all her fears, frustration, and hurt right back at him. It showed distorted fragments from a life so horrible, Sal’s head hurt.
The pictures that came felt endless, and still, they kept ruthlessly coming, diminishing all happiness and bliss.
A stabbing pain went through him, so powerful that he turned to the side and vomited. Sal looked back at Louise in disbelief of what he'd just experienced before the messages wore off, and he slouched forward and passed out on the ground.