Here and Gone(20)

‘Let’s get those wet things off you.’

‘No,’ Louise said. ‘Mommy said I can’t let anyone take my clothes off but her, or my teacher in school.’

‘Your mommy’s right to tell you that, but you see, I’m a police officer, so it’s okay. You can’t stay in those wet things.’

Once again, Collins looked to Sean for help, and he nudged Louise, said, ‘It’s okay. Go on.’

Sean watched as Collins undressed his sister, cleaned her with a wet wipe, and put the fresh clothes on. What was he watching for? He wasn’t sure. He knew there were some bad adults who wanted to do things to kids, to touch them in bad ways. If he saw anything wrong, any bad touching, what would he do? He had no idea, but he watched anyway until it was done.

Collins stood and said, ‘Now eat. And drink some water. I’ll be back later tonight with some sandwiches.’

She said nothing more as she climbed the stairs up to the trapdoor. The door slammed shut, and Sean felt the pressure in his ears, and a coldness like never before. He wanted to cry so badly it caused an ache behind his eyes, but he knew if he did, if he let his terror show, then Louise’s fragile mind would crack. So instead they sat beside each other on the mattress and ate candy and potato chips until Louise announced that she was tired. She lay down and Sean pulled a blanket over her, and he tried to remember one of her favorite stories, the one about the mouse and the deep, dark wood, and the monster who turned out to be real after all.

Hours passed. Sean wished he had his watch, so he could tell how many. His father had given him one for his last birthday, said a man should have a good watch, but Sean could never get used to the feel of it on his wrist. The clingy leather, the fiddly clasp, the cold of the metal. Always either too tight or too loose. He stopped wearing it after a few weeks, and Mom hadn’t said anything, even though it was an expensive watch. It cost more than the watches most grownup men wear, his father had said, because his father cared about such things.

Sean’s right hand went to his left wrist, the memory of the watch still on his skin there. He sometimes dreamed about his father. Angry, frightening dreams from which he awoke breathless and confused. He supposed he should hate Patrick Kinney, though that was a big emotion for a man he’d seen so little of in his life. Breakfast, usually, sometimes dinner, they had shared a table, but there hadn’t been much conversation. Now and again his father might ask about his grades, his friends, his teachers. One or two questions met by Sean’s stumbling answers, and that was that.

Mostly when he thought of his father he felt a hollow space inside, as if he had never had a father at all. Not in a real way.

Didn’t matter now. The watch was in one of the boxes in the back of Mom’s car.

Louise moaned and stirred, neither awake nor fully asleep, and hacked out a series of phlegmy coughs. Sean resisted the urge to lie down beside her, close his eyes, and—

What was that? A buzzing noise through the basement walls, getting louder.

Then it stopped somewhere overhead, and Sean heard a metallic clank. He wondered if it was Collins coming back, like she said she would.

Part of him sparked with the hope that she might take them both away from here, take them back to Mom. But the grownup part of Sean’s mind – the part that Mom called the Wise Old Man – told him no, they weren’t going anywhere. Nowhere good, at any rate.

Footsteps across the floorboards above, and Louise gasped as she bolted upright on the mattress, wild eyes staring as the lock rattled.

‘It’s okay,’ Sean said.

He couldn’t help but flinch at the bolt sliding open, like a rifle shot above their heads. Then the creak of the trapdoor, and Collins grunting again as she pulled it up and over. She peered inside, and once satisfied, climbed down the stairs, a brown paper bag in her right hand. She no longer wore her uniform. Now she was dressed in jeans and a jacket, and motorcycle boots. Sean understood what the buzzing noise from above had been.

Collins looked at him and pointed to the empty spot on the mattress beside Louise. He got to his feet, kept the blanket around him, crossed the floor, and lowered himself to the mattress beside his sister. He felt heat where their shoulders touched. Collins dropped the paper bag on the floor, knelt down, and opened it. The dark smell of cigarettes tainted her breath. She reached inside the bag and produced two sandwiches.

‘Peanut butter and jelly,’ she said. ‘Okay?’

Hunger pangs blotted out Sean’s caution, and he reached for one, took a bite. His stomach growled as he tasted the sweetness and the salt. He gave a sigh in spite of himself.

After he swallowed, he said, ‘You look tired. What time is it?’

‘I am tired,’ Collins said, reaching a sandwich out to Louise. ‘It’s a little before midnight, I think.’

Louise shook her head. ‘I don’t like the crusts.’

Collins pushed the sandwich at her. ‘Just eat it.’

‘Mom cuts them off,’ Louise said.

Collins gave her a hard look, then sighed, spreading the paper bag flat on the floor and putting the sandwich on top of it. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out what looked like a short metal bar. With her free hand, she pulled a vicious-looking blade from the bar, then snapped it into place. Sean had never seen a lock knife before, but he’d heard of them, and he guessed this was one. Collins proceeded to hack at the edges of the sandwich until the crusts were gone. She lifted the bread and held it out to Louise once more.