Chapter 45
Adriana slammed the door of the messy room behind her and leaned with all her weight against it.
She didn’t want it to fly open and release the creatures with tiny fingers.
She stayed there in the hall for several seconds, but then got the creepy feeling that they were coming through the wood.
She hopped to the other room with the crate. If Cindy had gone to find her parents, Adriana was in trouble. She definitely didn’t want to be tied up with those finger-creatures wandering around. And this time the Brewsters would make sure she couldn’t get loose. Neither she nor Cindy would ever escape.
Leaning against the wall, she put her hand on the doorknob. It was cold.
She was tired, thirsty, and it was way past her bedtime. She turned the knob and pushed the door open.
The crate’s lid was closed again. The locks weren’t in the latches though. She wondered if Cindy had actually decided to go back inside on her own. Would she actually prefer the dark?
As Adriana hopped closer, the noisy slap of her bare foot on the linoleum floor made her uncomfortable. So she kneeled down and crawled the rest of the way, holding the box in her left hand. As she drew close, she touched the latch of it with her index finger, ready to flick it open at the first sign of her friend.
That music from Jack-in-the-box toys played in her head: Da dum, da dum, da didilly dum. Da dum, da dum, da duum dum. Da dum, da dum, da didilly dum. Pop goes the weasel. She couldn’t get rid of the tune. Any second now she imagined her friend popping out of the crate and jumping onto her again.
Adriana took a deep breath and lifted the crate’s lid, metal hinges squeaking.
“Please, Daddy, not tonight,” a girl’s voice came from the growing crack. “It still hurts from last time. Please don’t touch—”
“It’s just me,” Adriana assured. “Your rotten father isn’t around, and he won’t touch you again.” She lifted the lid faster.
Cindy’s voice sounded young and was high and crackling. “I don’t want … please don’t. I can’t breathe, Daddy.”
It was creepy the way she talked as if her father were in the room. Adriana had to look around just to make sure Joe wasn’t standing behind her. She saw shadows crawling through the crack underneath the closed door. The creatures were coming …
Not allowing her eyes to stray from the door, she spoke nervously, “You’re okay. I’m going to get us out of here.” Cindy began mewling, and with considerable effort, Adriana was able to turn her head back to her friend. “He’s never going to hurt you again. I promise.”
The lid was open high enough to see Cindy inside, crammed in with her arms over her head and her knees drawn into her chest. The hard wooden confinement had nails sticking her in some places, drawing blood.
“It hurts bad, Daddy. Stop. I love you. Please ...”
“You’re going to be fine.” Adriana shook the small ornamented box in her hand. That same liquid sound came from inside. Through her fear, excitement blossomed.
Inside Out.
She had wanted to know what was in this box for the longest time. She undid the latch.
Inside Out.
But she had to force herself not to turn around and be distracted by the hissing whispers growing behind her.
Inside Out.
She lowered the box upside down into the open crate so nothing inside would miss her friend. And she let the lid fall open.
***
“Stop the car.” Sharon scrutinized the dark floorboards where the lizard might be lurking. She felt itchy all over knowing it was down there somewhere. Her bare feet curled. “Find Fred, Creo.”
“You were just saying how pressed for time we are.”
Laif was flipping through a map underneath his jacket. A warm yellow glow came through the material from his flashlight. “Maybe we should stop. It appears that we needed to make a right on the last road.”
Creo put his cigar out in the ashtray, pressing it down until it bent. “Our weaknesses are already hindering us.” He slowed the car and made a u-turn in the middle of the deserted street.
“We’re almost stopped,” she said. “Just let me out while you look.”
“Sharon,” Laif implored, “we’re running out of time.”
“I can’t stand reptiles!” She turned to Creo. “Of all the animals to keep, why did you have to pick a gecko?”
“I didn’t pick it to purposely annoy you.”
“Enough of this already.” Laif’s head moved back and forth as he talked under the jacket. “Children’s lives are at stake, people. A child with great potential. Let’s focus.”
“Talk about focusing,” Creo griped, “why didn’t you see the turn-off we missed? Let’s see … could it be that you have something draped over your head?”
Laif clicked off the flashlight under his jacket. “You’re not helping the situation. In your righteous pursuit to help everyone fight their weaknesses, you go about it in an unproductive manner. Now let’s move!”
The car grinded into gear, lurching forward, kicking up gravel against the floorboards as consistently as the rain against the roof, then the swishing of water once the tires returned to the asphalt. Within a minute they were at the intersection they had passed earlier. Creo made a left onto the small single-lane road and sped down it quite dangerously.
No one said anything.
In the silence, Sharon realized her fear of the lizard was selfish. Although she still kept her bare feet on the seat, out of the dark cavities where the lizard could lurk. She reconnected with her desire to find the girls as fast as possible.
Within five minutes, they encountered a gate made of a thick steel pipe, painted yellow, appearing impenetrable.
“Why are we stopping?” asked Laif.
Creo answered with the question, “Nobody brought chain cutters did they?”
“We’re almost there.”
“Well, what do you suggest we do?”
“We could walk,” Sharon suggested, slipping back into her sandals. “That way, no one would hear us coming.”
“Don’t forget, we got a rain-chicken in the car.”
“I can make it.” Laif began breathing harder and faster. Each exhale ballooned the material of the jacket.
She and Creo exited the car, he pulling on his long, black overcoat. The rain wasn’t hard. Soft, gentle caresses of cool water stroked her face and hands and tickled her feet. Droplets padded and darkened her brown suede jacket. Creo went to the gate to inspect it. Laif had his door a crack open and was struggling to get it further. Every inch it progressed, it also regressed three quarters of an inch. She went to him. “Are you sure you can do this?”
“Yes,” he replied, irritated, “I have to.” His foot stuck out and touched the ground, then quickly retracted.
“We should have stopped at my car to get the blanket. Maybe Creo has something in the back we could use.”
Creo walked to them. “How’s it going?”
“We need something to cover him,” she stated. “Do you have an extra jacket or umbrella?”
“He’s already got one jacket over his head. How many does it take?”
“Just something to cover his body.”
“He’s got clothes for that.”
“It soaks through the clothes,” Laif explained.
“Well, of course it does, silly. That’s what rain does.” Creo rested his hands on his hips, watching them for a moment. Then he turned his back to them. “The gate has a chain on it. It’s a strong gate, but the chain can be broken with a solid hit. Let’s make a little noise and pray no one hears.”
***
Since the box was upside-down and below her eyes, Adriana couldn’t see inside it. And she didn’t see anything fall from it onto her friend who was whimpering. She began to worry that whatever had been inside was now gone.
Maybe the box had always been empty and everyone had been crazy about it for nothing. But it did make a liquid sound only seconds ago. She supposed that the wood could be hollow and filled with water. But she remembered the light too.
Then light shined down from it. She shook it a few times. Still, nothing fell.
Inside Out.
Adriana felt a terrible feeling of emptiness and loneliness growing behind her, lapping at her back. Shadows danced along the edges of her vision. She pressed closer to the crate, and shook the box harder.
Come out. Come out.
Finally, a glowing blob fell.
It landed in the corner by Cindy’s left foot.
The girl screamed. Her hands grabbed the rim of the crate, pulling herself upward.
This was no good at all. Cindy would just run away. Adriana wished she had seen exactly what she had dumped into the crate, but it was too late now. Her foster sister would have to deal with her fears of it. Adriana let the crate’s lid drop, but it stopped on her foster sister’s fingers. She didn’t mean to hurt Cindy, but she had to keep the girl in there long enough, otherwise there would be no chance of Cindy being back to normal.
Cindy yelped and her fingers disappeared into the crate. The lid fell flush. Adriana quickly pulled the latches down so the lid couldn’t open.
Something brushed against her shirt.
Her heart stopped, then accelerated too fast for her breaths to catch up. She didn’t want to turn around to see what was there. She just stood, leaning against the crate.
Cindy banged on the lid, mewling like a cat being pulled by the tail.
This frightened Adriana even more than whatever was behind her. She was afraid she had done something terrible. What kind of a person was she to make a friend scream like this? Warm fear blasted her from the front and cold fear seeped into her from behind. Her heart felt like it was being ripped apart.
Cindy sounded so pathetic and wretched. Her mewling rose to a shivering, shrill cry.
Adriana stood there.
It was all she could do at the moment because she didn’t know what else to do. But her friend’s cries were driving her mad. Maybe it had been long enough already. Maybe too much exposure to the shining blob was harmful. Perhaps Cindy was now back to normal, and Adriana was unnecessarily holding her prisoner.
She stood there, confused.
***
Still in the car, Laif slammed his door shut.
Creo and Sharon got back inside the SUV. She buckled her seatbelt, concerned about the impact with the gate.
Creo accelerated forward at the part where the chain was. The gate creaked and wiggled, but didn’t swing open. He backed up further than before and tried again, getting more speed, but with the same results, except for more noise. He backed up even further and tried again. This time it broke the chain and shook it off the gate.
She got out and pushed the gate all the way open. Then he drove through onto the one-lane dirt road, and she jumped back inside.
They didn’t bother to close the gate since it was an hour past midnight and unlikely anyone would be leaving the camp so late. Besides, even if they closed the gate, the broken chain would alert anyone passing through.
She wondered what they would do when they finally encountered this beating-camp for disturbed parents. She wished they had brought a gun, but Laif said they don’t kill people. That is not the way they worked. They aren’t murderers. They only allow people to choose to hurt themselves.
She didn’t understand this entirely and would feel more comfortable with a gun, despite never having owned or operated one before. How many people would they have to fight to get the girls out? The kidnappers weren’t going to voluntarily hand the children over.
Creo continued down the dirt road. Big knotty oaks grew on either side and stretched their limbs across, changing the patter of rain on the roof.
“We should be getting close,” warned Laif.
Creo shut off the engine, killed the lights, and let the car quietly coast.
As they went around the next bend, they saw several soggy campfires surrounded by canopies where adults sat. Fires in the rain. These campers were determined to learn to beat kids better.
She said, “We can’t drive up there. Let’s park and walk.”
“We can’t be seen,” Laif countered. “The Brewsters will recognize us from the park.
“If we walk in, we might not have to deal with the parents at all. We might be able to sneak the kids out.”
Creo pulled under a great oak tree and used the emergency brake to stop the car so the brake lights wouldn't go on. He took the keys out of the ignition and put them into his jacket pocket. He and Sharon turned to Laif. The rain hardly hit the car’s roof underneath the protection of the great oak.
Laif was the first to exit the car this time. He swayed in place and shivered.
Creo conceded, “Okay, I’ll give you my jacket.”
“And I’ll give you mine to help cover you,” offered Sharon.
“I just need one more. Creo’s will be fine.” Laif put on his own jacket as his friend took off the black overcoat and handed it to him. Creo’s bright pink sweatshirt with black dashed lines would get soaked. It would also stand out if any light hit it.
Sharon offered him her jacket, but he refused as though it were an insult to his dignity.
Laif looked funny—Creo’s overcoat covered his head and splayed arms looking like an umbrella. He continued to shiver despite being dry and wearing his own jacket, sleeves pulled down past his fingertips.
They began walking down the road together, one person on each side of Laif, arms around his waist as support. The trees were still thick here, and rain only dribbled down, but in large droplets. She felt his arms shaking and his steps wobbling. He breathed so quickly that she told him to slow it down or else he could hyperventilate and panic or faint. But her words seemed to have no effect.
“I’m already in a panic attack,” he mumbled.
“I would offer you one of my cigars,” Creo said. “They’re quite calming.”
“No thanks.”
Once they left the protective branches of the oaks, Laif’s whole body tensed. It was like Sharon walked with Pinocchio, but a wooden doll that was six feet, two inches tall and roughly 190 pounds. He also walked as slow as a wooden doll. Creo and Sharon both pulled him to keep the pace, otherwise he might have frozen in place.
Three dying campfires crackled ahead and to the left of the road, with twenty to thirty adults sitting around each. Speakers stood close to the fires. To Sharon’s right were a line of motor homes, tents, and cars. Three big mobile homes were parked furthest from the fires.
No moonlight was able to shine through the clouds above, so it was dark enough to remain unseen.
“Will there be any of those traps?” she asked worriedly. “You know, the dust ones that were at the Brewsters’ house?”
Laif was breathing too hard to speak. Creo answered, “I don’t think so. The other campers would stumble into them too easily. But try staying hidden because the mist may still be lurking.”
“Great. So where exactly are we headed?”
“Well, it doesn’t look like they brought children to the camp meetings. The girls must be in some central babysitting location. Probably in one of the larger mobile homes.”
“Good. Let’s head that way.” She didn’t want to get close enough to even overhear what was being spoken at these sick discussions. She knew they had to be filled with justifications for hurtful actions to children. There could be no other way to continue damaging your child.
And these were dedicated idiots. It was already past 1:00 a.m., and they still had energy to support one another in torturing, abusing, and breaking children. They must have needed a lot of support. She wished they had just as much drive for self-analysis and self-growth; then maybe they wouldn’t need to beat children.
Sharon avoided looking at the campfires as they headed down the road. She left it to Creo to be on guard for possible stragglers coming their way. She just concentrated on getting Laif to take each step closer to the mobile homes without falling.
***
Adriana couldn’t bear to hear her friend’s cries any longer. She couldn’t let Cindy continue to suffer. She undid the latches, and the lid flew open, loudly clapping against the back.
Cindy rose out, pale and frightening—anger, panic, and desperation carved into her frozen face. Light shined from the bottom of the crate. She climbed over the edge. Adriana extended a hand to help her, but Cindy banged it away with her fist and ran into a corner of the room, the darkest corner.
Although terror pumped through Adriana’s veins, curiosity pushed through as well. She had to find out what had been hurting her friend. She leaned in closer to the crate, both hands holding the rim, craning her head down in disbelief.
At the bottom … bubbled … liquid light.
As she watched, it grew brighter.
It began climbing the side of the crate, gurgling into a body the size of a baseball but having the appearance of shining liquid mirror, reflecting everything around it and more, deeper reflections that could not normally be seen.
In its body, besides her own reflection, Adriana saw fears, weaknesses, and failures inside herself. These images drove down her spirit. She pushed back from the crate, hopping, becoming off-balance and falling backwards onto her butt, not wanting to turn her eyes away from the top of the box, realizing the liquid creature would be popping its mirror-head out any second.
What had she done? What had she unleashed? Poor Cindy was huddling in a corner, sobbing, because of this monster.
Adriana shivered. She was afraid to stand, feeling her rubbery leg wouldn’t support her.
She began scooting back, toward the wall with the lamp, when the mirror head rose out of the crate.
Once again, her eyes were drawn to its polished surface.
She was a horrible friend. She couldn’t believe she trapped her best friend in a crate with this little monster. What had its shiny surface reflected to Cindy as she banged and screamed with all her might?
The creature threw one dime-sized leg over the wooden edge, then the other. Its eyeless face watched Adriana. Once again she felt her fears and weaknesses magnify, driving her self-esteem down, making her feel worthless.
I fear being unlovable. Even though I feel better about my leg, some part of me still hasn’t accepted the loss. I still blame my mother for leaving me alone with Dad. I haven’t forgiven him or her. I don’t feel like I could ever forgive them. This makes me bad, unloving like them.
She wanted to turn away from the creature yet was unable. Its glistening surface entranced her.
The little monster jumped off the crate and splashed onto the floor into a liquid-light puddle, fluid arms and shoulders building back from the shrinking puddle into the shape of a doll again.
Its surface brightened and Adriana saw more reflections, deeper. Behind all her weaknesses and fears glistened courage, love, determination, and strength.
Although I fear being unlovable, I have began the difficult road of loving myself. I have taken courage in the face of kids teasing me at school and in foster homes. I am determined to get through life with only one leg. I see my strength to eventually forgive my parents and accept them as deeply flawed.
This pumped her self-esteem up, made her feel stronger, good, yet her weaknesses and fears were still reflected, keeping her self-esteem from jumping through the roof.
It was wonderful, terrifying, and humbling.
She remained afraid of moving closer to the mirror doll, yet was unwilling to move further back. She watched as it walked to her leg and touched her calf. Through the paint-crusted surface covering her skin, she could feel its warm doughy texture.
It bent down and seemed to kiss her leg once, then looked up at her, letting a tiny silvery drop bulge where its right eye should be and slip down its face and onto her skin.
It was warm and filled her with wonder, love, and caring. She wanted to scoop up the little doll and hug it forever. But before she could reach it, it turned away to face Cindy.
Somehow the corner where Cindy hunched had grown darker, as though shadows from the other three corners had crept over and built around her.
The doll began to walk toward her, squishy little sounds coming from its shiny feet.
The corner grew darker still. Adriana could see shadows crawling along the walls. They crept into the room from under the door, from under the roof outside the window, and from the other three corners. Although Cindy didn’t turn away from the doll, shadows thickened in front of her. They were condensing, moving into one another, making a thick blackness around her.
Adriana felt one of the shadows cross her belly as it slithered toward her friend. A cold chill rose inside where it touched, driving down the good feelings the mirror doll had left.
The doll kept walking to Cindy, unaware of the shadows on either side rushing to the girl, building around her, clouding and shielding against the light. Adriana could see just enough of Cindy to see her body straighten in confidence.
As the shadows continued to blend, they formed a large tar-like blob.
The doll was now five feet from her. It kept walking its tiny squishy steps, undaunted by the fierce substance curled like a Cobra above.
Then the darkness struck.
It engulfed the doll. Adriana could no longer see the doll’s intense but beautiful surface. She could see only a gray figure, and it appeared to be coughing. The darkness squeezed tighter around, condensing, making the doll dimmer.
Visible now, Cindy looked relieved in the background. She stepped closer.
The doll had fallen on the floor and was rolling around, trying to shake off the black shroud.
But the darkness shrank even further, becoming denser, until Adriana couldn’t see the doll at all. It was just a black mass.
Suddenly a small bright fist punched through for a second, but the tar quickly reformed around the hole. Another few punches came, as the struggles became slower and seemed to tire.
The tar tightened so much that it was almost as small as the doll. In fact, it began to take shape of the doll as it squeezed further, so that what she now saw was a black doll, struggling on its back, barely able to shake its legs and arms as the blackness hardened.
Within seconds, the doll stopped moving.
Smirking, Cindy drew closer.
When she was above it, she raised her right foot and smashed it down. To Adriana’s horror, she heard a cracking and crumbling. Darkness oozed off as Cindy twisted and grinded her foot against the mirror creature.
Adriana stood up and hopped over to save it. But before she could, Cindy stepped back, and as the remaining shadows scattered and collected behind Cindy, Adriana could see hundreds of tiny broken pieces on the floor, sharp and glistening, but each too small to see a true reflection of anything.
Her foster sister clasped her hands together. The darkness behind her billowed up and Adriana heard a whispering hissing from it.
The small pieces of the doll on the floor began to tremble, but they could not reconnect. They didn’t have the flexibility they once had to melt into one another.
When Adriana looked back to her foster sister, the darkness behind the girl broke into a haunting of shadows rushing forward. They surrounded Adriana so that she couldn’t squeeze through them. They drew closer. She didn’t want to touch any of them but they were getting too close to avoid.
This time they didn’t whisper they loved her, thought she was beautiful, smart, or valuable. They just pressed ice-cold against her and began to dig their tiny black fingers through her skin.