And the Trees Crept In(3)

I shrugged.

(Crazy) Aunt Cath poured more tea. “Take it from the beginning. Because, I have to tell you, the Pamela I knew wouldn’t have let you come here. Not in a million years. And I would never have…” She laughed like it was a joke, a little game between her and her sister. But I could tell the laugh was covering up something else entirely. “I sent letters asking how you were. We both agreed never to let you… Well. Here you are.” She laughed again, shaking her head, and I noticed that her hair, though long and quite wild, was the warm color of wheat at sunset. Just like Nori’s. Just like Mam’s before it faded into a pale gray. But her face was off somehow. A little too old.

I got my looks from my father (lucky me), which meant I was like the sunspot after you looked too closely at the sun. Black hair, black eyes, too-white skin. A walking cliché.

Cath sat down at the table, her face stilling when she spotted our bag dripping in the corner. “I see. Well. Well, yes. You weren’t joking about staying.”

“He got bad,” I said, and it’s all I intended to say.

It was enough. Cath’s expression soured, then she nodded. “I’m glad you’re here, anyway. I’ll have to make arrangements, I suppose. School, clothing…” For a moment, she seemed overwhelmed.

“Leave it to me,” I said, even though I wanted to let the silence draw out to infinity so I could see when it imploded.

The lights flickered at the same moment I saw the relief on her face; she didn’t know me yet. Nori didn’t go to school, and I didn’t plan on going back either.

“Nori and I can share a room, too,” I added.

“Nonsense! That’s one thing I’m not worried about. Have you seen the size of La Baume?”

I frowned.

“The manor,” she explained. “That’s what it’s called. Did Pamela never say?”

I took a sip of tea.

“Hm.” Cath put her hands into her lap. “I don’t suppose I’m surprised that Pamela didn’t tell you what it was called. Neither of us much liked it here growing up.”

Now that was a surprise. Mam always said Cath was born to stay in the “blood manor.” And now I knew what she meant by blood. I suddenly felt like there was a lot I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure I really wanted to. Not then.

Cath looked into her tea and frowned. “Why did you come here? He’ll never let you leave.”

“What?”

But Cath drank all the steaming tea in her cup and smiled at Nori, who had stopped eating and was watching my face closely. I forced a smile and signed, Not hungry, little bug? I’ll have it, then! And I reached for her food.

Her mouth opened gruesomely wide, revealing the gaps in her teeth where Dad had knocked them out, and she grabbed the scone and jam with her good arm. The twisted one, too small, too bent, jiggled rigidly at her side.

Cath and I both watched Nori stuffing jam scones and biscuits into her mouth. With that smile on her face, Cath didn’t seem to half mind.

I, on the other hand, thought I might vomit.

He’ll never let you leave.

I thought I knew what she meant. My bones shook with the idea of my father staking out the woods, ready to drag us back to the prison he called home.





When Aunt Cath said she would get us cleaned up and warm, she meant it. We entered the only room she had made up, and it smelled of sweet vanilla and roses.

It’s so big! Nori signed, rushing up and down to look at one object and then another.

“Yeah, right,” I said, lugging our bag onto the bed. “A big fat disappointment.”

Nori stuck her tongue out at me and continued her exploration. I busied myself pulling out the remnants of our life:

Three shirts each

One pair of ratty jeans each

Six dresses for Nori

Three dresses for me

Underwear

A hairbrush

A hair dryer

My paper

My pen



I carried our clothes, which now seemed meager and pitiful, to the chest of drawers in the corner and reached down to open the top drawer. It was stuck, so I tried the next, and the next, and the next.

“Oh for heaven’s sake!”

The last, however, gave signs of movement. Putting the clothes on top of the chest, I bent down and tugged on the last drawer, gritting my teeth and muttering my entire range of vehement expletives.

“Come on, you son of a—”

It gave way by three inches, revealing a drawer jam-packed with bric-a-brac. I squinted into the gap and saw feathers, fossils, and Crayola pens, items that had no place in a bedroom.

God almighty.

I kicked the drawer shut with my foot—a little too hard. “Crap! Damn it!”

Nori tugged on my dress.

“Sorry, bug. Just stubbed my toe.”

There’s something under my bed.

I forced myself not to roll my eyes. Not the monster-waiting-to-get-me bit again. We had played this one out to death.

You’re too old for this, I thought. “Let me look,” I said.

I bent down and lifted the bed skirt. And there it was. A dusty, flowery chamber pot.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

What is it?

“You pee in it.”

Nori’s nose wrinkled.