Now and Again
Caleb Calhoun turned his steering wheel and pulled into a parking space in front of the Claire Burton Dance School.
He considered, not for the first time, that his only daughter might be slightly spoiled. It was going to be another hundred and thirty-five dollars this month so that Tigerlily could get dressed in a tutu and dance around to Let It Go.
But he was going to pay it, so it wasn't really an issue he needed to have an internal debate over. As for right now, he needed to get in, pick her up, fight traffic, get dinner on the table and hope that she decided she was going to go to bed at some reasonable point in time. The previous night's four a.m. Yo Gabba Gabba concert was not far from his mind.
He unlocked the door, pushed it open, then walked out and closed it. He stuck his hands in his pockets and tried not to look suspicious – despite years of practice, he still had a distinct tendency to always look suspicious.
Caleb walked up to the school, opened the door and slipped inside. He found himself confronted with a series of chairs too small for him.
"You're early, too."
Caleb turned his head to see a stick-thin girl with long, black hair standing next to him. She seemed quiet as a mouse; he hadn't even heard her walk up. Maybe he was getting old and needed more practice.
"Yeah, I guess I wanted to beat the rush," Caleb replied. "I haven't seen you before, I don't think. I'm Tigerlily's dad. The dark-haired little girl who never stops talking." He chuckled.
"I'm Geri's mother. The little one with the… curly hair. She's three."
"You'll have to point her out to me." Caleb stood there awkwardly a moment, then offered his hand. That was what people did, didn't they? "I'm Caleb."
The woman looked away a moment, seemingly shy.
"Kennedy," she offered, at last. He noticed that her eyes looked red, like she either hadn't been sleeping or had been crying, and wished he knew what someone was expected to say when they noticed something like that. If it had been Dylan or Tigerlily, he could have just asked straight out whether they were okay, but with a complete stranger? He didn't feel like he had progressed that far in social interaction yet; he found himself considering Data from Star Trek.
"Nice to meet you," Caleb managed at last. "First time – uh, here? First time here?"
Kennedy looked up as if she hadn't quite heard him speaking.
"Yeah… That's us. I mean, we got a free voucher from the school so… I figured she might like it. I used to do dance as a kid… I mean, I didn't really keep up with it but…" She shrugged.
Caleb smiled.
"I didn't do the whole dance thing…my sister did, but only for a little while. Ballet, just like Tigerlily. It was hard though… Moneywise, I mean. It's good that there's vouchers and stuff."
He heard the door to the classroom open, and out ran a cluster of tiny ballerinas, going this way and that and clamoring in groups or heading over to their parents.
Tigerlily slammed into Caleb, wrapping her arms around his leg and clinging as she chirped excitedly, "Today we did a pirouette! Wanna see, wanna see?"
"When we get home," Caleb told her, then nodded in farewell to Kennedy. "It's nice meeting you." He turned to head out, figuring he could get on the road before everyone else and get dinner started.
That was when he came face to face with a kid – well, no longer a kid, now a man – that he had thought he would never see again.
Norman Bates, now with a set of stubble across the bottom of his chin and a worn black jacket, was standing tall and staring at Caleb as if he didn't know him.
"Excuse me," he said. His voice was deeper, deeper than when he had seen him and dinner and deeper still than when Norman had menaced him with a knife in a hotel room. Instinctually, Caleb tightened his grip on his daughter's hand.
"Sorry," Caleb managed, shifting out of the way. He didn't know what to say – was there an etiquette for this type of situation? He could still remember Dylan's voice on the phone, bristling with half-concealed worry and declaring that "Norman can be dead in a ditch for all I care" and of course meaning that he was picturing his brother in endless horrible endings and tearing himself apart at the seams.
And here he was, not dead in a ditch but married with a daughter. Caleb didn't know what to make of it.
As Norman passed by, he looked back over his shoulder, centering his sights on Caleb, as if daring him to say his name.
He didn't say anything; instead, he stood and watched as the woman – Kennedy – walked out from the studio with her little girl in hand, to follow Norman back into the car.
She looked at Caleb for just a moment, and he caught a glimpse of frightened, dead eyes.
"We can't wait all day. Mother wouldn't want that," Norman was saying. He pulled open the car door and waited for the woman to climb in, then put the girl in the back.
"Daddy, what's going on?" Tigerlily asked.
Caleb's mouth hung slightly open as he watched the scene. The woman looked back in Caleb's direction again. Dead eyes, dead red eyes.
Norman had another woman closed in his grasp, in his iron grip. Kennedy, or whatever her name was, climbed into the passenger's seat and swung the door shut.
They drove away.
"Who was that, Daddy?" Tigerlily asked.
"Someone I haven't seen in a long time, baby." Caleb let his free hand snake into his pocket and pull out his cell phone. He ran his finger down his contact list until he arrived at "Norma Louise", then sighed and put it back in his pocket. "Let's go home."
He was braiding Tigerlily's hair and trying to think over what to do when she piped up, "Who was that man? The one you said you knew before?"
He looped one strand of black hair into another.
"Do you remember your Aunt Norma Louise?"
"Yeah. Dylan's Mommy."
"That's right. Well…" Caleb paused, then continued. "She has a younger son. Norman. But he ran away a long time ago. Before you were born. And I think that might have been him." He finished up the braid, picked up a piece of red ribbon, and began to tie it to the bottom of the braid. "What's Geri like? Your little friend?"
"She's nice," Tigerlily provided, and Caleb figured he wasn't going to get much more than that. Having a four-year-old as your spy had its drawbacks. He patted her braid and stood up, grabbing his phone again. He paused on Norma's name again before scrolling back up to Dylan's and pressing the "Call" button.
He picked up on the second ring.
"Hey, Dad. What's up?"
"Not much, Dylan. How're you doing? How's Emma?"
"I'm good. She's good." There was a pause. "Is everything okay up there? How's Tigerlily…?"
"She's good. Hey, listen, Dylan – I need to see you soon. I miss you, kid. But right now I just… have a quick question."
"Sure. Shoot."
"When Norman ran away… What was the name of that girl he said he was running away with?"
"Bradley Martin – why?"
"It's a long story. Listen… I'm going to call you when I know something. But you keep yourself safe."
"You too, Dad."
"See you, sweetheart."
There was a pause.
"Sweetheart? You've had a little kid too long. Don't let me break up the Wiggles marathon."
Caleb looked over at the TV.
"It's the Good Night Show, actually, but thanks."
Caleb stared at his laptop, scratching his chin and trying to turn over the information in his head.
According to the article he was reading, Bradley Martin was a beautiful blonde seventeen-year-old who had disappeared and was presumed dead. There was a suicide note and some clothes left by water, and no one had seemed to look much closer. The article stated that Bradley had tried to kill herself the year before and had been committed to a mental institution, but was then released, seemingly fine. Or so they'd thought.
The woman he'd seen with Norman Bates had resembled Bradley Martin, but only in the vaguest of ways. There was something that this girl had had, some spark of life, that had been snuffed out. Whether it was Norman's doing or not, Caleb wasn't sure.
There was only one person who might be able to tell him.
Kennedy was sitting in the waiting room again, legs crossed over another too-small chair.
"Hi," Caleb greeted.
"Oh. Hey. I didn't know you come to this one."
Caleb hadn't, before. He'd convinced Tigerlily to try a week of tap to see if he could catch Kennedy-Bradley.
"She wanted to try something new. Kids, right?" Caleb let out a nervous laugh.
Kennedy, or Bradley, turned away and smiled sadly.
"My husband made us switch. He said I shouldn't talk to you. He didn't want us to come back here at all."
"Oh? Why's that?"
"He said that you're a bad person." She paused, and Caleb watched as she sucked in one of her cheeks. "Are you?"
"I don't know. But is he a good one?"
She played with a strand of black hair, twirled in around her finger, and said in a faraway voice, "He's the kindest person I've ever known." She tilted her head, and Caleb could see a ring of bruises around her neck.
She stood up.
"I better go. If he sees us talking, he might get mad."
Caleb opened his mouth to say something, but he felt as helpless as he had at ten, jamming himself in between a giant hand and a head of blonde curls.
Instead, he watched as Bradley Martin walked to the back, took her child's hand, and walked out into the parking lot.
He thought, again, of calling Norma.
But what in the world would he tell her?