Kimber Read online

  I swallow my disappointment. I know he’s right and I’m just being a brat. I flag the server over for our check.

  “Look, I know this must be nerve racking, meetin’ your aunt for the first time, but don’t you kind of owe it to her. I mean, she doesn’t even know that her sister’s gone, does she?”

  I freeze up momentarily having completely forgotten that being so far away and trapped in a psyche ward, Lena most likely does not know about her sister, my mother. With no other living relatives, it naturally would become my responsibility to inform her. I do not know if I can relive all the details. I do not know if I can walk Lena through every agonizing week, months in fact, that my mother was missing before any trace of her was found.

  I can’t help but wonder how Lena will take the horrible news that her big sister, who she possibly looked up to and was so close to, is no longer here. Perhaps this will bring us closer. Bond us in a way only losing a loved one can do. Now much like detective Muller, I must take my turn at being the bearer of bad news. The poison on cupid’s arrow.

  Chapter Nine

  BEING SURROUNED BY nature makes our long walk seem short. We come to a sign that reads, ADIRONDACK MENTAL FACILITY. CHANGING LIFE ONE MIND AT A TIME.

  We walk up a small hill and find no large metal gate surrounding the grounds. No guard station to check visitors in. I can find no signs warning or telling of what lies ahead. Instead, I find myself amazed to see the mental facility looking more like a spring getaway for someone with a massive bank account and an eye for luxury. It looks like a small mansion painted in a soft peach color with white trim. Large square windows line the entire front of this immaculate building and the tall wooden doors that signify the entrance look as if they’re built to keep people out rather than in.

  If the building isn’t an indication that I’m clearly at the wrong place, the vast land surrounding it confirms my suspicion. The grass is the purest color green I have ever seen and frosted with snow. It puts my elderly neighbor, Mr. Johnson’s lawn to shame. White stones outline a large garden of flowers around the front entrance. Trees of all sizes and flowers of all colors are arranged in a definite Feng Shui type of style. Some trees even support swings from their branches. Others have benches under their shade.

  As I try to focus my eyes on the surroundings, I walk up the red stoned pathway towards the large doors. I can only hope the inside will have the same peaceful feeling the outside has. Not the sadness I’d expect a mental facility would have.

  “If I ever go crazy make sure you stick me here.” Luke jokes making light of the moment.

  The large wooden doors open effortlessly as we enter. The first thing I notice is how peaceful and quiet it is inside. My attention is drawn to white marble tile below my feet. All but one wall is painted a soft cheerful baby blue. The wall to my right displays a mural extending half way down the open hallway. Various amounts of colors all come together to form a collage of paintings. It’s no Picasso but the sheer beauty of every resident here taking their turn to add a piece of themselves or something meaningful to the wall, makes it that much more beautiful. A Picasso in its own right.

  When I feel Luke’s hand on the small of my back and the sound of a woman clearing her voice, I’m reminded again of where I am.

  “Folks, can I help you?” An older African American woman behind the lobby counter asks. She wears plain white scrubs and her dark hair is pulled tightly against her scalp into a ponytail. She stands with one eyebrow raised while watching us approach.

  “Um, yes Yolanda.” I say peeking at her nametag. “We’re here to see Lena Middleton.”

  She has a slight reaction of shock and then quickly wrinkles her forehead in confusion. I start to think I must have the wrong place. Yolanda gathers her thoughts before she speaks. “Are you family?”

  “Yes, her niece.”

  “And you?” She directs her gaze upon Luke.

  “No. I’m here for support.” He smiles at me.

  I wait eagerly for a confirmation of whether my aunt is here or not. My patience walks a thin line as Yolanda starts ruffling through papers behind the counter.

  “Do you know that in the eight years I’ve run this lobby, Lena has never had a single visitor?”

  “Is that so?” I don’t like her tone or the evident judgment across her face. I won’t feel guilty for her. Nothing but the smothering feeling of what I’ve come to do can trump the fact that I have found Lena.

  I start to think of the vast possibilities pertaining to Lena’s condition. I’m not sure what it really was that put her in this place to begin with. Will she be in a straight jacket? Drooling from the mouth? Incapable of speech or worse? Oh God! I do not think I could handle anything worse.

  “Sign this.” Yolanda says passing me a clipboard. “Only family allowed past the lobby. You can take a seat.”

  The knot in my stomach becomes tighter knowing Luke will not be by my side. I turn to him, searching his eyes for support.

  “I’ll be right here. You’ll be fine.” Luke wraps his arms around me, pulling me in for a hug. “Just say what you need to. Then we’ll get the hell outta here.” I smile at him. He knows as well as I do that this will be no easy task.

  “What if she’s incapable of contact?” I ask against his chest.

  Luke laughs under his breath before saying, “If that were the case you wouldn’t be allowed back.”

  “I don’t know if I can do this?”

  “Of course you can. You already survived the worst. This should be cake.” As he kisses my head, I loosen my grip and take the visitors pass Yolanda holds out for me.

  “Head down this hallway to your right then take your first left and you’ll see the door to the art room. That’s where your aunt should be ‘bout this time.” Yolanda directs me.

  I feel hot and flushed as I begin to knock lightly on the door marked, Art Room. My entrance goes unnoticed by everyone except the large Indian looking man sitting in a chair directly by the door. A forced nervous smile forms on my face. The man squints his eyes, scrutinizing my visitors pass, like it could be a fake.

  “Who you looking for, Sugar?”

  I breathe in to answer his question but before I can speak a woman from somewhere in the room speaks for me. Her response steals my breath.

  “She’s here for me, Bernie.”

  I glance around the room looking for the woman. In the front left corner of the room I see a woman hovering over someone. I watch as she straightens her poster and slowly turns to the back of the room where I stand.

  “Everyone continue. Bernie, can you take over the class from here?”

  The Indian man stands blocking my view of the mysterious speaking woman. Frozen, my eyes finally come to see Lena for the first time. I know it’s her because she’s as beautiful as my mother. I have to look twice to make sure she isn’t her. It’s just like looking at my mother three years ago. They share the same dark wavy brown hair, high cheekbones, soft almond eyes, and full pink lips. The similarity is more than I expected. I knew she would resemble my mother. They are sisters, but this. This is virtually too much to take.

  I’m relieved Lena appears to be nothing like the horrible things I had imagined her to be. Tears puddle in my eyes then roll down my cheeks. I’m stuck with the weight of it all. I stand before a duplicate copy of my mother. Alive! Breathing! I close my eyes and forcefully pull the forming fantasy from my head. I must deliver the news of my mother’s death.

  “Kimber!” Lena exclaims. Her voice is high with happiness. I on the other hand can find no words. “Look at you! Just as beautiful as I knew you would be.” She places her hands softly around my elbows. I’m stunned by her appearance and unable to absorb what she said.

  Lena grabs her coat before leading me out the door, down the rest of the hallway and out into an open garden. It’s just as breathtaking as the front entrance. We sit on a small wooden bench inside a lavender gazebo.

  I turn my face from her as I try to wipe the
remaining tears from my eyes. While I do so, Lena ever so gently touches her hand to mine. I face her and remind myself who she is and what I’ve come here to do. I feel uncomfortable when I see her looking as if she’s literally checked out of her body. Her body is relaxed. Eyes glazed over. Face empty of expression. Is she sleeping? I lean in towards her and flinch as she suddenly snaps out of it. Sadness seeps over her pale face. Her brows crease in a painful expression.

  “Such pain and darkness. You’re so strong to have survived so much.”

  I smile somberly, take a deep breath and I say what I’ve come to say. “I’m so sorry I didn’t contact you sooner. There is something I need to tell you. It’s about my mother. She’s… gone.” I choke on my words. My throat clenches with a prickly pain.

  “It’s ok Kimber. I know about Marie.”

  I don’t know if she’s just incapable of understanding or refuses to hear me. I take a deep breath and force myself say it again. “No Lena. I mean she passed away. She was murdered several months ago.”

  “I understand Kimber.” She responds seeming to take what I’m saying a whole lot better than expected.

  “Did you see it on the news? Hear about it?” I ask unsure if she is able to comprehend what I am saying. Perhaps she is just unreachable. Emotionally dead like I was for the first couple of weeks.

  “I did see it but not on the news.”

  “Then how?”

  The only response Lena gives me is a slight tap on her temple. Feeling a little freaked out and very uncomfortable I fight the urge to make a b-line back to Luke.

  “Your mother and I were very close. It was through that bond that I learned of her death.” Lena explains.

  “You think your psychic?” I say with sarcasm. My tone does not seem to bother Lena. Having spent years in this treatment center, I’m sure she has heard it all.

  “Do I see the future? Only when it’s given to me to see. Can I see inside someone, see the pain they suffer, the lies they tell? Yes. But only when I’m meant to. I like to think of myself as hypersensitive. Calling myself psychic is so, well, over done with all the phonies out there.”

  I stifle a laugh. I’ll give her the benefit of doubt, I’ll take the bait. “Did you see my mother’s death before it happened?” I wait holding my breath.

  Psycho or psychic I try to remember I can only take what she says as mere craziness. Even so, against my will my body stiffens.

  Reaching over to me Lena takes my hand. Her sincerity holds my gaze. “No.” Is her only response.

  My muscles release their tight grip on my bones and I exhale.

  Lena keeps her eyes locked on mine. A shiver runs up my spine making me tremble. I feel uneasy. Like some part of me is trying to escape. I move to take my hand from hers but she increases her grip. I look around for someone, anyone who can pry me from her. Where’s an orderly when you need one?

  “Look at me Kimber!” Her voice is stern, demanding, just like my mother’s when she commanded my attention. “Your eyes. They’re different. There not the same as I’ve seen before.”

  “Before?” It’s psycho babble, I tell myself. Though I admit, I’m intrigued. I wait for an answer but Lena simply stands and starts to walk away. “What’s wrong with my eyes?” I rise to my feet, follow her as she walks swiftly ahead of me and further into the open yard. “Lena please! Stop!” I call after her.

  She stops dead in her tracks under a large willow tree and turns swiftly towards me.

  “I hate to cut this short but I think its best you go now.” The demand in her voice is gone and replaced with a soft remorse tone. She won’t look at me. Instead she searches the yard, maybe now she wishes for the orderly that won’t come.

  “No.” I hesitate as I take a step at a time closer to her. “You say there’s something wrong with my eyes, yet you’ve never seen me. You’ve either completely gone nuts or....” I stop ashamed of myself. I did not come here to hurt her or call her the names I’m sure haunt her in her sleep. “How am I different?”

  I do not know why I ask but the unnatural visions I’ve had of Leo have left me feeling less than normal. Maybe Lena could be onto something. Or maybe I’m just a fool trying to understand.

  I see Lena struggling, perhaps wishing she’d just kept quite. It’s too late for that. I move forward until I’m next to her. I’m not going anywhere until I get an answer.

  “I’ve seen you before through your mother’s eyes.” She pauses and looks me in the eyes. “Even though they’re the same almond color as Marie’s, when I look at you, a part of you is gone. Who you should be is gone. It’s a warning, Kimber. There’s more than the darkness you feel around you. You’re courting trouble.”

  I shake my head confused. Her words run through my brain in bits and pieces but like a puzzle without the most crucial piece, nothing fits.

  “Of course I’m angry. I feel dark, unsure and sometimes I’m so overcome with grief and guilt I can barely find a good reason I should see the day through. I lost my mother! Any fake psychic could tell me the crazy things you say. You’re mentally and chemically unbalanced. You don’t see the future. You can’t see in or through people. You only think you can and that’s why you’re in here!”

  I do not care enough to see the line I have crossed. I just can’t take it! The nonsense she speaks. The unemotional way she shows no remorse for her dead sister. I want to shake the crazy out of her.

  “Believe what you want. But don’t tell me you’ve looked in the mirror and haven’t been frightened by what looks back at you. Your grief has made you susceptible. You’re changing into someone else. Someone you’re not meant to be.”

  “Just stop, ok! You’re acting like I’ve been possessed. And quite frankly you’re freaking me out!”

  Lena smirks, but when she sees I’m serious and not the least bit amused, her smile fades. “No. Not possessed. Just that there is a dark presence near you.”

  Sarcastically I laugh. The only dark thing around me is her mental stability.

  “I did what I came here to do. It was nice meeting you Lena.”

  I turn to leave but what she says next stops me dead in my tracks. Sending what feels like a swift hit to my gut through me.

  “You have and I know it wasn’t easy, thank you. There is one thing you forgot to ask about, Leo.”

  I gasp. “That’s impossible.” I spin around to face her.

  “Still think I’m crazy?” Lena asks with a smile.

  Crazy or not is something I might have to reevaluate. She touches my shoulder and steps closer bridging the space between us.

  “He came to me before he left. What leaving you did to him was evident. He looked broken, distraught.”

  I don’t know how to take what she says. I don’t know if I can trust what she says. The Leo she speaks of sounds nothing like the Leo from last night.

  “How do you know him?” I ask but Lena continues as though she does not hear me.

  “He won’t answer the questions your afraid to ask. It’s better that way. Most people regret it when they learn what nightmares are made of.”

  I step away from her reach. “You’re lying. You’re trying to scare me. You want me to believe you have a psychic gift? Prove it!”

  “Why is it so hard for you to accept me? To understand the gift I was born with? Your mother believed. Why can’t you?” A pained look on her face tells me to lighten up and try to give her the benefit of the doubt.

  A part of me wants to see it, wants to believe it. But I know it’ll be a letdown. What she claims to be is impossible. It does not exist.

  “My mother always saw things in people no one else could. She was an optimist. I guess I’ve grown to be a skeptic. I’m sorry for being harsh and judgmental. This isn’t easy.”

  I lower my head. I feel ashamed. I can’t help but think of how my mother would have scolded me for being so unkind to my own family. Lena gently places her hand back on my shoulder. Secretly I wonder what’s with all the touching?


  “It never is. Can I tell you a secret?” She asks as I raise my head to her. “The cut on your head that you’re trying to hide under that nude bandage is from you falling and hitting it on the bathroom sink the night of Tommy’s party. You hate the fact that your two closest friends tried to coax you into taking depression medication the morning after getting that nasty little gash stitched up. You’d do it all over again to get Mike D. to say Leo’s name. Of course none of this is really a secret to either of us but the way you felt when your friends labeled you is the same way I feel when I get labeled crazy for something that is beyond my control.”

  Like a wide eyed deer, I stare at her. She smiles back at me. Finally realizing she has found a way to make me believe.

  “As for the real secret, well, let’s just say I’m sure Marie wouldn’t have wanted to know about the time you snuck out of the house when you were seventeen just to go to a house party where you nearly didn’t get away in time before the cops pulled up and arrested six people for underage drinking.”

  I recall that night and how afraid Amber and I were. “I didn’t drink.” I say testing her.

  “You had two bottles of beer and you know it!” Lena responds. I smile, confirming she is right.

  I do not understand it. I do not know if I really ever will. Nevertheless, I know now that I cannot deny that the gift Lena claims she has is real. There is no way she could know how I got the cut on my head or the one and only time I snuck out of my house. There is no one who could have told her any of it.

  “Ok. Let’s say I believe you.”

  “I was born with my gift. Back when I was a child, doing what I can do wasn’t accepted. Marie was the only one who never judged me. But others did. That’s how I ended up here. Now this is my home and I’m happy. But this is good. It makes things easier if you believe me because when it comes to Leo, he’s a whole different story.” Lena smirks.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think it’s better he explain his actions to you.”

  “Yeah, well I refuse to be told that someone who I thought would care about me, left me the night before my mother’s memorial, and doesn’t see what he wants when looking at me, is someone I should want in my life.”