Chapter 9 – The Cabin
Lizzie woke up to the squawking of owls in the tree outside and thought it was extremely odd. When she went downstairs, Petunia let out a sharp shriek at a pile of letters. Vernon moved past her and pushed her aside. The only difference with these was that they now said 'smallest room in the house' instead of the cupboard. He ordered Lizzie back upstairs and not to leave the room.
Later that night he called her down, told her to sit on the sofa, and then burned each one by one in front of her.
Two days later, the postman brought over a bin full of them. "Azalea is a popular girl," he smiled at Vernon, but Vernon just growled under his breath. They made for a small fire in the backyard later that day. Vernon was getting noticeably paranoid.
When Sunday rolled around, they left and returned from mass. Lizzie was doing her best to keep the urge to vomit down but lost her battle in the kitchen sink. Usually, she heard a belt buckle at this point, but Vernon just glared at her. Her face was pale white and flushed by the time she set out afternoon tea. Outside she noticed a slew of owls in broad daylight all landed on the house, car, or gate outside.
"Get the cookies," her aunt barked as the oven went off and she made a plate for the coffee table.
"Well at least it's Sunday, am I right? Best day of the week," Vernon said to Petunia, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
"Mass was lovely," Petunia said.
"No post is lovelier," Lizzie mumbled.
"Right you are, Lizzie!" He said with faked enthusiasm and rubbed her chin. She scowled with her face turned away from him.
Lizzie heard a slapping sound that sounded like something hit him in the face and turned around. He stared at the fireplace in disbelief while Lizzie discretely picked up the one that hit the floor. The fireplace roared for a moment and flooded the living room with letters. Lizzie ran with the one clutched in her hand toward the stairs but felt large hands pull her arms back in death grip. She struggled to no avail, knowing he could break her like a toothpick.
"Drop it," he growled, shaking in rage.
He wrapped and arm around her so she couldn't move while he opened the front door and then pushed her outside.
"Car, now," he said shortly, looking around for something. "You can sit in the front so I can keep an eye on you," he added.
She clambered into the car and sat down, he got into the driver's seat, backed out of the driveway, and sped off.
They stopped at a deserted stretch many miles away and he parked the car. He beat the steering wheel furiously in a rage and let out a loud frustrated groan. "Why are you doing this?!" He shouted.
Lizzie shook her head, "I'm - not... I don't know..." she said nervously. He hit the steering wheel again and she jumped.
He started the car and drove to his office building. "Come with me," he said, and she followed him into the empty building. She was quiet on the elevator ride and down the hall to his corner office. He rummaged through some files and took down a note of piece of paper. Then he used his phone to call someone.
"Henry. Hi, it's Vernon," he said evenly.
"Sorry to bother you on a Sunday. This isn't work related I promise. I was wondering if you still had that cabin off the coast and if you'd be willing to lend it? I'll pay you of course..." he said.
"You do, great. No... just wanted to take Petunia. Break from the kids before they start back at school. Could I swing by for the keys? What's your address?" He asked.
"Perfect, I know exactly where that is, thanks again I'll be by shortly," he said with a smile and then hung up.
"Car, now," he said curtly and she walked ahead of him out of the building.
He picked up the keys from a portly man who reminded her of baby elephant. Then they drove up the coastline for a couple of hours in silence and stopped at the ferry. Vernon parked the car in an obscure location and told her to get out. At this point Lizzie was confused to high heaven.
He's going to are murder me and dump me in the ocean, she thought. The sea breeze felt nice though, after all these years there weren't many things she liked more than crisp air.
They boarded a ferry that dropped them at an island off shore. There was a winding road up to a cabin buried in foliage and he used the keys to unlock the door and push her inside.
He locked the door, drew the curtains, and dropped the keys on a side table. He didn't think ahead, there was no food aside from trail mix in the cupboard. Neither of them had extra clothes. He phoned Petunia to bring some the following day and gave her the address.
Lizzie stood awkwardly not knowing what to do. Vernon didn't offer any peace of mind. "Can I..." she started to ask.
"I don't care!" He said exasperated, he was wringing his hands and running them through his hair and over his face anxiously.
Lizzie sat down on the sofa and said nothing. She had a sudden urge to cry not knowing how long they'd be here or what to do while he threw things in frustration.
Sometime after his meltdown, he found a bottle of liquor and poured out a glass.
"Are you hungry?" He asked abruptly. Lizzie shook her head. He poured out a bowl of trail mix and set it on the coffee table. "Have some or don't, there isn't anything else," he said with a sigh and sat down on the arm chair adjacent to her.
"It's your birthday tomorrow, isn't it?" He asked to break the silence. She nodded and he shook his head laughing. She thought he looked sort of deranged, like this letter ordeal broke him.
"Twelve... Nine years since we took you," he said disdainfully.
"Thought if we made it this far, we'd be in the clear, but I guess not," he mumbled to himself and downed the drink.
"Here, cheers," he said, handing her a glass a few minutes later.
She took a sip and coughed. "Drink it, don't waste it," he said coldly and watched Lizzie struggle to swallow what was in the glass down. Her head went numb and her guard came down some.
After staring at a picture on the wall for a short while as he rummaged through a closet for blankets and such, she asked absently, "Who murdered my parents?" The words flew before she could catch them. For a moment she didn't think she said it out loud and lurched into a panic.
Vernon froze and stepped away from the closet to look at her straight on. "What did you just ask me?" His eyes looked bewildered and enraged.
Lizzie shook her head, "I don't know. I'm sorry. I don't know what I meant by that," she stammered.
"It was a straightforward question, Azalea. Did you read the St. Catherine's paperwork?" He asked. Lizzie froze not knowing what to say. He approached aggressively and snatched a wrist for her to stand up. "Did you?" He yelled.
"N-no," she lied and he slapped her.
"Try again," he snapped.
"I'm s-sorry," she whispered and his eyes went meaner than she'd ever seen them.
He pulled her into the small kitchen and poured out another glass. "Drink," he said, after the second glass he waited for her to down, he pushed her into the counter and pulled back on her hips.
"No, please don't," she said breathlessly. She heard the leather of the belt and tensed up. Something about being completely alone with him made this absolutely terrifying. Her body shook uncontrollably. She felt almost outside of it entirely, and then nothing.