Chapter 3

3

        I woke up without the sun sticking it’s arm in my window and slapping me in the face. A dark and thick fog cloaked the house. I climbed out of bed and walked into the bathroom. After showering and putting on my robe I skipped downstairs. I turned into the kitchen. My mother looked up from the stove and smiled. Her eyes weren’t puffy and red like before. Any sign of crying was no were evident in her tanned face.

            “Good morning, Honey.” She chirped and flipped the eggs.

            “Morning, mommy.” I sat at the island. “Where’s Rufus?” I asked just noticing my dog was missing. I looked down on the floor. No sign of my fat pup.

            “Your father took him to Ms. Kinders.” She said slowly.

            “Why?” I asked as she placed the plate of bacon and eggs in front of me. I stripped the bacon and shoved it in my greedy mouth.

            “We are going out today.”

            “Without me?”

            “We’ll be back around 5. You can spend three hours alone, right?”

            “Oh,” I smiled at her. “You’re going to get me my old day present.” I nodded to myself.

            My mother laughed and shook her head. I reached up grabbed the ketchup and squirted it on my eggs. “Thanks for reminding me, I forgot.”

            I laughed mockingly. “Funny, mom.” She smiled faintly and turned away from me. “Mom,” I said my voice shaking a bit. “Are you okay?” Worry hinting my voice.

            She turned to me and smiled encouragingly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

            “Are you sure?” I raised my eyebrow at her.

She nodded. “Of course, why would you ask?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know you seem so…distant.” I looked down at my eggs, the suddenly looked disgusting. I heard the front door creak open and my father stomped down the foyer.

He smiled as I caught his stare. “Good morning, sweetie.” He leaned down and kissed the top of my auburn hair.

“Good morning, dad.” I smiled and snatched up a piece of my bacon as my dad stole the other one. I playfully glared at him as he shoved my poor bacon in his choppers. “That was mine.”

“Can’t you cut your old man some slack?”

“Fine. But only this time, the next time…” I took his bacon from his plate and pretended to slice my neck. My father chuckled and shook his head. He walked over to mom and kissed both of her cheeks.

“You know, Charity; I don’t think you should be threatening the old folks. Since one day from now, you’ll be one of us.” He grinned and shoved another bacon is his mouth. He sat beside me and stared at mom.

“I’m not that old dad.” I interjected. My mother and father laughed.

Just then a loud buzzing sound erupted through the house. My mother jumped from her seat and rushed down the foyer. “Maybe that’s my batter order!” She yelled.

Dad chuckled, “Her and that order.” He muttered and resumed eating his eggs. Three minutes passed and mom still wasn’t back in the kitchen. My father got up and dumped his plate into the sink and peeked into the foyer. “I wonder who that is?”

“It’s them again.” She said reentering the kitchen. Her bright face suddenly grim alarmed my father. He rushed over and placed his hand on her shoulders.

Their eyes scanned the paper quickly, then almost all at once they both frowned. The eyes darted to me, I raised my eyebrows questioningly. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. What is that? I wondered and looked around the room. “Dad?” I arched my eyebrow and inched off my seat.

He shook his head and held up his hand, “It’s nothing, just some bills.”

“Is something wrong? Are you falling flat on the bills?” I asked. I have a piggy bank that’s filled with almost three hundred dollar; if they needed they could just ask.

“No. We’ll just pay them off.”

“Go dress for school, honey.” My mom finally spoke up. She tucked the letter in her pocket and turned to the counter. She placed both of her hands on it and pressed down.

I glanced back and forth from my father to my mother. He looked down at her his grey eyes filled with gloom, then back at me. He flashed me a not so reassuring smile then wrapped his arm around my mothers’ waist. He leaned down and whispered in her ears. My mother looked up at me and brushed her hair from her face.

I shuffled out my seat, my chest aching badly. My gut knotted in a ball and lurched forward. Why did I have a feeling something bad is going to happen? I walked up the stairs and into my room. I shut the door and pressed my back against it. I slid to the floor, my breathe get haggard with every movement. What is happening?

I pulled out my phone and began to punch in numbers. I pressed the phone to my ear. It rang three times and then went into voicemail.  “Hi, this is Kim. Call back later. If this is Xav, call me on my other number. Love yall!” I sighed and punched in another number.

It rang for a while and then someone picked up, “Hello?”

“Wren?” I asked in the phone my voice faint.

“Charity? Is that you? Why do you sound so drained?”

“Wren,” I rushed and glanced out the window. “Please come to my house now.”

“’Kay, I’m on my way.” I heard shuffled in the background then a car engine turn on. I sighed and nodded. “Char, what’s wrong?” He asked concern edging in his voice.

“I don’t know. Wren, please come quickly.” I whispered, tears bordering in eyes. I shut the phone before he could ask anything more, or crash his car into a tree and slinked over to my closet. I combed through it and pulled out my black Boo shirt…

In second I hurried a quite rapping on myy window. I looked at my window, Wren pressed his nose to the glass. He motioned down to the window and wiggled his finger. I walked over; pressed the window latch and pushed it open.

“What is wrong with you?” He grunted as he hauled himself through the window. “Jeez, you had me scared. I thought you were getting raped or something.” He flopped his heavy body on the floor.

“Something is happening.” I ignored his comment. Wren raised his bushy eyebrows and beckoned me to continue. “My parents are acting strange.”

“So what do you want me to do? Kill ‘em?” He asked, a little too rudely.

“Stay with me until they leave.”

“And do what, exactly?”

I shot him a stupid look and placed my hands on my hips, “Search the house. I need to know what they are hiding from me.”

“I don’t know, Char…” He looked down at his fingers. “Maybe,” He glanced out the window and bit his bottom lip. “We shouldn’t. Maybe, whatever they are hiding is for your own good.”

I laughed. Since when was my friend such a goodie two shoes? When I met him two years ago, he was a bad a*s kid. What happen to that kid? “Wren, I need your help. I’ll give you two choices: you either help or get out.” I stated calmly and stared into his grey pupils.

Wren stared back into mine, still contemplating whether to leave or not. Secretly I wanted him to stay; I need someone to be there just in case something bad happens. After three minutes of arguing with our eyes, Wren sighed. My heart skipped. Is that surrender?

“Fine,”"Yes!"“but if I go to jail…”

I rolled my eyes at his exaggeration. “You’re not going to get arrest, dumb a*s.” What a whimp. I walked to the door and pushed my ear to it.

Silent. No low mumbling or cries.

I turned to Wren. “Go back out the window and come around the front. I’ll get in and you’ll drive down the street out of sight.”

“Okay.” Wren began to make his way back to the window. “But…” He hauled his foot out the window. “If I go to j"”

“Shut up, nub.”

Wren reluctantly climbed back out the window. I sighed and pulled open my door. I stepped out in to the hall and to the stairs. The low mumbling trailed down the hall to my parents’ room. I cracked open the door and peeked in.

“We can’t let this happen, Phil.”

“I know that, Rita.” My father raked his hands over his head and sighed heavily. My mother stood behind him, her shoulder shook aggressively. She shook her head slowly, sobs escaping her lips. My father turned to her, and grabbed her hands in his. “It’s gonna’ be okay, we’ll work this out.” He assured her and pulled her onto his lap.

I turned away and headed back down the stairs. Maybe Wren was right, I thought. Maybe it was really nothing I should worry about. But it was always better safe than sorry. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and grabbed my bag before throwing a good-bye over my shoulders.

I rushed out of the door and jumped into Wren’s stupid junk. He tossed me apprehensive look, and then U-turned down the block. He parked behind a tree, and turned to me, “Why exactly are we doing this?”

“I need to see what my parents are hiding.”

“Isn’t that a bit nosey?” Wren asked, looking really uneasy. I rolled my eyeballs and straightened my back.

“I knew I should’ve called Kimberly instead.” I grumbled under my breath and peered out his front window. I really didn’t need Wren breathing down my back right now. If he wasn’t going to help me, but instead be a pain in my a*s, then he should go home.

“You don’t need to call Kim; I’m always here for you.” He looked down at his hands and buckled his pink lips.

The door to my house suddenly opened and my mother stepped out. She wrapped a red scarf around her small head and positioned a pair of shades on her pointy noes. My father quickly joined her at the door, and they strode hand-in-hand down the driveway. When they climbed in the car, I turned to Wren and grabbed the keys of his car.

“When they leave, we go straight upstairs and check the office and their room, alright?”

Wren nodded, speechlessly. He averted his eyes from his fingers to the window and squeezed his lips together even more. He closed his eyes and clasped his hands together, and began moving his lips quickly. No word came out from his mouth. After a while of staring at him, Wren opened his eyes again and rose out of his car seat. I followed after him quickly, and started down our block as my father beaten up Jeep rolled down the street.

Once we got back to the house, I crept behind the back leaving Wren to wait at the front door. I grabbed the spare key from under the placemat and shoved the key in the whole, turning it left. I slide open the door and tip toed my way back to the front of the house.

I turned the lock with a click and welcomed in Wren. He smiled encouragingly to me, but his left hand was trembling. Even with his anxiety Wren still followed me up the stairs to my parents’ room. I flipped on the light and motioned for Wren to check my fathers’ dresser. He nodded and trudged towards the mahogany chest of drawers.

For ten minutes we stood hunched over every hiding place my parents could have had, but we found nothing. Wren looked at me somewhat apologetically, but the glint of his eyes sad otherwise.

I shook my head and moved to the doors that lead into my dad’s study. Wren closely behind shut the door behind me and sucked in a breath.

“You check the left side, I check the right?”

Wren started off to my fathers’ bookshelves but looked over his shoulders. A hint of grief and fear struck his dark brown eyes, but I ignored it and I smiled at him. I moved my body and shifted towards my dad’s file cabinet. I slide open the top drawer and rifled through the mass of documents. I closed the drawer and started on the second one, and then the third one quickly after. They were nothing in any of the folders.

I turned to Wren half deflated, “Did you find anything?” He shook his head and continued to dig into the file he was searching. I sighed and looked down at the floor.

I narrowed my eyes, pink swirls twirled viciously below my feet. I stepped back completely alarmed. “Wren?” My voice shook as the pink hole grew larger. “Wren?” I whispered my voice shaking even more.

Why wasn’t he answering me? I looked up, and searched the room, but Wren was gone. My eyes widened. “Wren this isn’t funny!” I yelled tears slipping from my eyes. The pink black hole, turned at red hue and a sudden hot heat surrounded me.

“Look on the desk.” A velvet voice told me. I looked around but no one was in the room with me.

I felt a force grabbed my shoulder and shove me towards my fathers’ desk. A violent wind entered the room, stirring the drapes. It swept across my dads’ desk sending all the papers to the floor or in the air. I watched the white papers flutter to the floor, before turning back to the desk. I bright red album rested on the dark wood.

My arms lifted without me instructing it to and pried the red book off the table. The breeze wafted over the book, erasing the dust that covered the words ‘The paperwork of Charity Clove-Smalls’. Clove?

 The red hole and heat disappeared and everything was still.  I stared at the crimson scrapbook, my mouth hanging open. How did this get here? Who was telling me to get it? Who exactly is Charity Clove-Smalls? I can’t be me, can it?

  “What is that?” Wren’s voice snapped me out of my daydream. My head snapped to him. I scowled at him. When did he come back?

“I don’t know.” I stretched my hand out to him.

“The paperwork of Charity Clove-Smalls.” He read to himself. His brows furrowed, and his teeth met his bottom lip, but he said nothing. I watched as his brown eyes widened and he snatched the book from my hand, but quickly dropped it. He leaped back and stared at me.

“Don’t open it.” He warned.

“Why not?” I reached to pick it up, but Wren grabbed my hand.

“Don’t pick it.” He said more pleadingly, and caught my gaze.

I stared in his eyes for a second before shaking him off. “Wren, stop being weird.” I plopped on the floor and opened the red book to front page. Three envelopes were tucked in the flap of album. I pulled them out and glided my hands over the extremely white letter. I took a while to admire the very neat handwriting, which made the words: To Mr. and Mrs. Smalls.

 I ripped open the first letter and read:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Smalls,

      4 more days and I will collect my prize.

    Big Daddy

I folded the letter back to its original state and slipped it into the envelope. “Who’s Big daddy?” I turned to Wren. He shook his head and stood in the place he was in. He worry lines showed deeply and his mouth was place in a hard line.

            I turned from him and opened the second letter.

          She was given to you because a woman didn’t want her. Her mother in fact. She tried to trick me, don’t think you can. I’ll see you in 3 days Mister and Misses Smalls.

          I blinked and gripped the letter tighter. Could they be talking about me? My mother didn’t want me, so she gave me away? That means Rita isn’t my real mother. That means they’ve lied to me this whole time!

            I grabbed the other white folding and ripped it open without any care intended.  Another white paper slipped out the envelope. I picked it up: Isn’t she a beauty? So proud she’s mine.

            I turned the paper over; a slim girl with auburn hair stood next a dark skinned kid. They were laughing, the kids hand slung over the girls’ shoulder. A gasp stuck in my throat, and came out like a choke. That was Wren and I, when we were fourteen. Someone was following us, because there was no way they could’ve gotten that picture.

            I shoved the album and the letters away from me. My eyes darted to the wall with my fathers’ picture. I glared bullets into his face. I hated him. He lied to me. I hated all of them, They both lied to me.

            “Look at the album.” Someone whispered.

            I reached over and picked back up the red leather book. I flipped to the second page and stared at a woman, with blonde lock. Her thin lips were stretched into a toothy smile. In her arms she held up and small little creature. Its eyes were closed, and its small baby finger was stuck up its’ nose.

            Isn’t she the cutest?

            I flipped the other page and stared at a pink document.

            Charity Antoinette Clove

            Born: April 10, 1994

            To: Celeste Courts

                        In the neat handwriting that was on the letter:  Jeremiah Clove. Under Jeremiah’s name someone scribbled Sold to: Big Daddy.

            Where had I heard that name before, Jeremiah Clove? I squeezed my eyes shut and focused in the name Jeremiah. His name sounded to familiar, but I couldn’t tell from where.

            After a few more pages of my mother and some pictures of me. I saw the words: She was given to me, and I let you have you so she is trained properly. Now it’s time to take her back.

            I flipped through some more pages and stopped. A woman’s body was pressed against the ceiling of a building. He cheeks were hollow, her mouth hung open. Her eyes were widened but life had already evaporated from them. Her white dress stained white thick blood. I shivered and looked at the caption of the photo.

            Mess with me, or try to stop me from taking her and you could be with her mother.

            Who was doing this? How could anyone do this to a woman? I flipped through the book some more, before shutting it and turning my back on it. My eyes swelled with tears. My nose stung, and the walls began to spin. I shot up out of my position and turned around.

            “Wren?”