The Contradiction of Solitude(78)

Because he belonged to this place too.

“How do you do it?” I whispered, wiping my nose on my sleeve.

Daddy took my hand and led me to Amelia.

Pretty, pretty Amelia with the sad, sad green eyes.

Daddy turned his head up to the ceiling. As though looking at the sky. “Only in memories will she live forever. Only in the sky will she be home,” he murmured. To himself. Not to me.

“I don’t understand, Daddy,” I whined. I was tired. I was hungry. I didn’t want to be in this dirty, dark room with the bloody girl who cried and cried.

Amelia.

Daddy cupped my face and gave me an indulgent smile. “I don’t expect you to. Not yet. But one day, you will. One day you will see that memories are the only places where we can truly be free. To remember things as they should be.”

He had a knife in his hand. I hadn’t seen it before.

Then he turned away from me.

Away.

Towards Amelia.

“Park the car here,” I said. My voice sounded muffled. Slurred. I was here but I wasn’t.

I was lost.

In memory.

Elian turned off the engine and got out of the car. He seemed hesitant. He should be.

“That’s the house?” he asked, inclining his head in the direction of the run down building.

The grass was high, and the porch was sinking into the ground. It looked condemned. Not much different from the last time I had been there.

Many, many years before.

In my memories.

“Your dad left you that place? It looks like it needs to be bulldozed.” Elian didn’t get it. I shouldn’t expect him to.

I walked toward the empty, waiting house. Just like I had one night…a long time ago.

The crying had stopped.

The tears all dried up.

And the blood.

The blood was everywhere.

The blood was all I saw…

“I don’t want to go in there, Layna,” Elian protested, pulling on my hand. Stopping me.

“I need to go inside. Both of us do. This is where it started.” I couldn’t see him. It was dark. So dark. The glow of Elian’s headlights illuminated the things I didn’t need to see.

“Where what started?” Elian asked. He sounded spooked. Breathless. He gasped and wheezed. I could almost hear the thump, thump of his unreserved, painful heart.

“Me. You. Both of us.”

I watched my daddy tell his story. Sharp. Merciful. Careful. Gentle.

He smiled at me, and I smiled back.

Inside I buzzed…

I opened the door. It was unlocked. I wasn’t surprised. Who else would find this place? Out in the middle of nowhere?

“I came here,” I said, my voice echoing.

“When?” Elian came inside behind me. It was bleak. Just like that night.

Déjà vu hit hard. Hit true.

“Go back to the car, Layna.”

I had already seen everything.

I had already seen it all.

Why did I have to leave now?

“This part is over. But for you, my little, little Layna, it’s only the beginning.”

“I was eight years old. My daddy was supposed to take me to get some ice cream. That’s what he told my mother anyway. It was his excuse.”

I stepped through the puddles on the floor. Sticky. Wet. Warm. Small shoe prints on the wood. Tracing my steps back outside. To before I had seen. Too much.

“He had a girl here. Tied to a chair.” I looked around the room I remembered. All those years ago.

All at once.

But it was empty.

When had that happened?

“She was crying. Her mouth was gagged. And he loved her. I could tell,” I whispered.

“He loved her? What are you talking about?” Elian wouldn’t come in. He stayed by the door.

Disgusted.

He was repulsed.

Smart.

I could hear my daddy singing as I walked back out to the car. Sweet, mournful sounds that filled my ears and bled out into the night.

Waylon Jennings. His favorite.

And he sang and sang.

“She was really pretty. Just a girl. A teenager. And her eyes. They were the most brilliant shade of green I had ever seen…”

Elian stilled. His face went white.

He knew…

“What are you saying, Layna?”

“Are you ready to get that ice cream now?” My father asked after he returned to the car. I didn’t ask where Amelia went.

I knew she was gone.

But where did he put her?

He had changed his clothes. He threw a trash bag into the backseat before getting in.

“I feel a little sick, Daddy,” I told him, hiding my face. I didn’t want him to see me. To see how upset I was. Because of Amelia.

Daddy pulled my chin around so that I had to look at him.

“It’s okay to feel bad, Lay. It’s okay to feel good about it too. Do you remember what I told you that day after you got into the fight at school?”

I nodded. “You said that I shouldn’t feel bad for being who I am.”

“Right. And this is who I am, Layna. Is that all right?”

What was he asking me?

I thought about the pretty girl with the green eyes.

“She was unhappy, Lay. She was sad all the time. She didn’t have a daddy that loved her the way that I love you. She’s free now. She’s a memory. And there she can be whoever we want her to be. Happy.”