Chapter 3
Cindy pulled her bedcovers up to her nose.
Her foster sister, Adriana Huffen, slept in the bed across the room. Adriana’s crutches leaned against her mattress.
In the nightlight’s green glow—which was too dim for Cindy—the crutches looked like a stick-monster standing beside Adriana, waiting for a ripe opportunity to stake her.
Cindy closed her eyes. She could hear her foster sister’s deep, slow breathes.
She looked at the crutches again to make sure they hadn’t moved. They were motionless, but not yet safe as far as Cindy was concerned. She felt like a scaredy-cat little girl, and she didn’t like it, but she wasn’t about to pretend she wasn’t afraid and find the sticks only inches from her head, preparing to bang her to death. They seemed quite normal in the daytime, but darkness brought maliciousness to them.
In darkness, things can happen to me without me knowing. A green monster could slither out from underneath the bed, black widows could inch their way down from the ceiling on silent threads, crutches could grow or leap or anything!
Maybe she hadn’t gotten over her mother beating her head with a hammer five months ago. Her therapist kept telling her that severe trauma doesn’t just disappear after the body heals. She didn’t think it could linger this long though. But even if her therapist were right, what could Cindy do? The crutches were still scary.
She was glad her foster mother let her have the green nightlight in the room. She only wished it were brighter.
Her foster sister was the nicest person. Cindy was only a couple of months older than the girl. They were both in the same grade, but in different schools because the social workers didn’t want to keep switching schools for Adriana. Adriana cared about Cindy as a friend and a sister, but the girl had her own fears. She insisted on propping the crutches against her bed in case an emergency such as fire or mudslide or—although she didn’t say it—an urgent bathroom trip. She used to have a problem wetting the bed, which really embarrassed her. She had her own history of nightmare parents. After several nights of swapping stories, Cindy didn’t feel like her own parents were half bad.
Although Cindy didn’t consider herself to be a selfish person, tonight she had to put the crutches on the ground where they belonged, even if it upset her foster sister. The chance of a mudslide or fire occurring was very unlikely, probably less likely than Cindy being scared to death. And, if Adriana needed to rush to the bathroom, she could still pick the crutches up off the floor. The floor was only a couple of feet from the bed.
Cindy got out of bed and made it half-way across the room before she discovered that she couldn’t go against her foster sister’s wishes. Four months ago, the girl without a left leg looked so serious on her first night here when she told Cindy she needed the crutches close by.
Instead of repositioning the crutches, Cindy took the top blanket from her own bed and threw it over the sticks.
They made a scraping sound against the wood floor as though angered. Now she couldn’t see the sticks anymore. But with the nightlight behind, the blanket looked ghostly.
This would not do at all.
Adriana woke. When she saw the ghost-blanket, she gasped.
“I’m sorry,” Cindy quickly apologized.
“What did you do?”
She felt like hiding under her remaining blanket. She was embarrassed by her actions and fears. “I couldn’t sleep, and the crutches were giving me the creeps.”
“Oh.” Adriana took the blanket off and laid the crutches on the floor beside her bed. “There. I think it’ll be okay. I’ll just remember they’re only an arm away.”
“Thanks.” She already felt more relaxed. Her foster sister was a special friend. For the four months they had lived together, Adriana helped make simple things exciting. Swinging on the tire-swing in the backyard became as fun as a ride at Disneyland. Sitting in the grass by the flowers became a trip on a cloud to a distant castle in the mountains. She was an imaginative talker, and her joy for life was beautiful.
A scraping noise came from the floor, but Cindy’s friend was already covered up in her bed. She tried to peer through the shadows between the two beds to see where the crutches lay, but the nightlight didn’t reach. “Adriana?”
Creaking on the other bed. “Yes.”
“Was that you?”
“What?”
“You didn’t hear that?” Cindy’s heart jumped in her chest.
“Hear what?”
The scraping had stopped. Cindy waited for it return. After several seconds, it came back, closer to her bed.
“Did you hear that?” she asked quickly.
“What?”
The scraping turned into growling.
“That!”
Adriana asked, “What’re you talking about?”
Now she wasn’t only seeing things but hearing things as well. At the visit with her parents, she had seen darkness around them. But her foster care social worker didn’t see anything. Maybe her mother had hit her head too hard with the hammer and damaged her brain.
More scraping noises, and the growling turned into a howl.
Cindy pushed back her covers, intending to rush to the door where the light switch was, but she suddenly became afraid to put her bare feet on the wooden floor. What if she stepped on the crutches? What if they made her trip and fall then pounded her to death? She couldn’t see where her slippers were. She stood up on her bed, bounced once, and jumped in the direction of the light switch. Landing on her feet, she dashed to the door and flipped the switch.
A glare hit the room.
Adriana squinted and raised herself on her elbows. Her curly brown hair was messed up. “What’re you doing?”
The crutches were still on the floor where Adriana had laid them. Her clothes from earlier that day—jeans with one leg cut off, her single white tennis shoe with one white sock, and her red sweater—were crumpled together beside the crutches.
Cindy asked, “You didn’t hear anything?”
“I heard you asking me if I heard anything.”
“Do you see anything? I thought I heard something.”
Adriana fell back onto her bed and pulled the covers over her eyes. “The light, the light, I see too much light.”
And there wasn’t anything or anyone else in the room. Cindy could plainly see that. Just like the dark glow around her parents didn’t really exist either.
For the second time tonight, she found herself praying for a guardian angel.