Must I always tell you my secrets? What is it about you that makes me want to just…

Let go…

***

Andy was awakened Saturday morning by two things. One, the sound of a large truck pulling into the parking lot of the apartment division; two, his doll sliding off the bed and grabbing onto him as he fell. "Stop!" he was screaming. They fell to the floor, tangled in bed sheets and covers. "Ow, Chucky!" Andy whined. What was that for?" He rubbed his side, which had landed on one of his old robots. "That hurt." He paused, thinking. "Stop what?" Chucky opened his eyes to see Andy staring at him. "What? I didn't say anything like that. You must have been imagining things." Andy shook his head. "Whatever, Chucky. I know what I heard." He untangled himself from the mess of sleep and walked to his window to find out the source of the other occurrence that disturbed his sleep-in.

It was a large truck, for sure. It was a moving van, actually. "Woah, new people!" Andy breathed. He pressed his nose against the cold morning glass, leaving fog on the window pane from his breath. "You think maybe they have kids, Chucky?" His doll grunted as he crawled over to the window and slowly climbed up next to him. "Doubt it," he grunted. Andy looked over at him, about to lecture Chucky about being so cranky in the morning, but the doll's bed-hair made him double-over with laughter. "You look hillar-ous, Chucky!" he snickered, rolling around on the carpet. Chucky growled. "Oh, cram it, you little weevil," he muttered, trying to fix his hair.

The footsteps of his mother walking to the hall door got Andy's attention. He ran to the door and listened intently. "Oh, how nice to meet you!" she was saying. "And this is?" An older woman's voice responded, "Kyle. Our foster child," she was saying. Andy wiggled in excitement. "Another kid!" he exclaimed. "A boy my age, maybe! Right?" He picked Chucky up in his arms and opened the door, ignoring Chucky's remarks of how Kyle was probably a college dweeb.

To be honest, Andy had expected a small boy his age. What he got instead was neither that nor Chucky's suggestion. Kyle was a teen girl. She was leaning on her left side, chewing gum and looking everywhere else but at them. She appeared to be bored, and what some would call a rebel. Andy stepped back a bit to take her in, and she noticed him, but didn't change expression, except to frown at the doll. Andy looked down to see Chucky frowning back. "Nice doll you got there, kid," she said. "Who, me?" Andy choked out, then realized that was a stupid thing to ask. "Thanks." His mother and her foster parents were still becoming acquainted with each other, and neither girl nor boy knew what else to say to the other, so they became relatively silent, and simply stared at one another. Occasionally Kyle would pop the gum in her mouth, but beyond that, only the sound of the adults chatting neighborly was heard.

At last Karen closed the door as she gave her good-byes to the new tenants. "They seem alright, huh, Andy?" she asked. Andy nodded, but he wasn't entirely too sure of how he felt about Kyle. She seemed intimidating and cold. Andy just hoped he was wrong.

***

I don't like that girl. She gives those depreciating looks. Especially at Andy. Nobody needs to look at him like that. He's…

…she just shouldn't do that…

Andy was sitting on the kitchen counter with his mother, holding his doll in his lap. They had just finished playing Monopoly, which Chucky cheated on, or so he told his mother. He peeked around the bright orange hair to watch her slowly spread peanut butter and jelly on the slices of bread. "One for me, and one for my Andy," she was saying. "One for Chucky too, Mommy," Andy interrupted. "He's hungrier than an elephant!" Karen laughed, and Andy thought his mother had never looked prettier than right now, smiling in their small kitchen with the afternoon sun bouncing off her blonde curls. "Well, then, why don't you and Chucky share?" she suggested, cutting Andy's sandwich in half. "Then we can make more if you're still hungry." Andy nodded, stuffing his half in his mouth. "Mm, mm… ee up 'ucky," he said through the food in his mouth. He took the other half and pushed it towards his doll's lips.

"Don't make a mess, Andy," Karen warned. The doorbell rang suddenly, and she turned to walk towards the door. "Who could that be?" she asked curiously. Andy shrugged as she twisted the doorknob. "You done, Chucky?" he asked his doll. "Yah, but don't choke me next time. I ain't got that big of a mouth," Chucky grunted at him. "Seems pretty big to me," Andy replied. They looked at each other and laughed. "You got crumbs on your face, Chucky," Andy observed. "So do you," Chucky responded simply. "Probably from wharfing that food down like an animal. Doesn't your mother teach you manners?" Andy rolled his eyes playfully. "Whatever, Chucky," he said. "Here, lemme clean you off," Chucky squirmed. "I can clean myself, Andy!" he urged. "Stay still, Chucky! Look, you can clean me off too," Andy compromised.

The two wiped each other's face. Then Andy went to the door with Chucky to see who his mother was talking to. "Yah, so they sent me to give you this basket, and they said if you need anything, we're here." It was that girl, Kyle, again. "Oh, thank you, honey," Karen said gratefully. "I think I'm good right…" the phone rang. "Excuse me, Kyle," she said, running to the phone. Once again, Andy and Kyle were left to look at each other in awkward silence. "Wasn't your doll frowning last time I saw him?" Kyle asked. Andy looked down to see that, indeed, now Chucky had a smile plastered to his face. "I dunno," he said, shrugging, not knowing what else to say. Chucky got onto him all the time, telling him to make sure no one else knew he was real, and yet he had changed faces and made things look suspicious. Andy huffed.

Karen had returned from the phone. "Kyle?" she asked. The girl looked up from the doll, who she had been observing curiously. "Yah, Mrs. Barclay?" she responded somewhat distractedly. "Kyle, I'm so sorry. Did your parents mean you as well could do something for me?" she asked, sounding a little desperate. "Well, no, but I could…" Kyle began cautiously. "Oh, good! Listen, can you watch my son for a little while? An hour or two maybe? I… I just have to go to work and…." Kyle waved it off. "It's fine, it's fine," she said in that same bored tone. "I got this. He's potty-trained, right?" Karen stopped in surprise. "What?" she asked, reaching for her jacket on the hook. "Oh, yes, yes, very funny…" she said breathlessly, sliding her arm through the sleeves. Kyle smirked. "Then we're good," she said, as if that was all babysitting was about. Karen was still buttoning up her coat as she snatched her purse and headed out the door. "Thank you, thank you," she sighed. "Listen, you have liberties to all the food in the fridge, and if you need anything, Andy knows my number, but you shouldn't have any trouble, Andy's a good kid…" she rambled on as she practically ran down the hallway.

"Don't worry, I got this!" Kyle shouted after her. Then she shut the door and turned to the boy still looking at her. "What do you want, kid?" she asked. Andy gulped. "Nothing. I'm good. My name's Andy," he said. Kyle rolled her eyes. "Okay, Andy. Aren't you a little old for…" she paused, looking at Chucky as if she was deciding what to call him. "Dolls?" Andy shrugged. "I'm only six," he replied, as if that made a difference. "Whatever," Kyle sighed, flopping on the couch and turning on the television, somehow signifying the end of their conversation. "Just don't make a mess or anything." Andy nodded, but she wasn't looking, so he walked quietly to his room and shut the door.

As soon as the clicking sound of the doorknob was heard, Chucky seemed to spring to life. "That bitch," he growled. "I oughta…" He made fist and tried to lunge for the door, but Andy held him back. "Chucky, please, cut it out," he said. "Don't get so mad about this." Chucky was still muttering. "And don't call her that. She's not that mean. Maybe she's just shy or something." Chucky whirled on him. "Shy? No. You are shy. She's a… she's something else. And you just stood there and let her step all over you…" Andy sat on the carpet and turned his doll roughly to face him. "And just what was I supposed to do, Chucky?" he asked angrily. "You want me to blow up her apartment room?" They both knew what he was referring to. "Andy…" Chucky began. Either it was because he just wanted to, or his legs gave way, but he sat down in Andy's lap. "Why do you have to be so angry all the time, Chucky?" Andy asked. "Why do you have to be so happy?" his doll responded. They sat in silence for a while, just listening to the clock and the sound of the television. "I just don't want you to be treated like a piece of sh… like trash," Chucky corrected himself. "You wanna survive in this world, you gotta be tough, like me. You gotta be a little ruthless."

"You mean like everybody else? Wow, Chucky, I can see why the world is the way it is now. Thanks for that," Andy said. Chucky looked up at him, bewildered. "But, Andy, don't you understand?" he asked, almost desperately. "If you just… give your heart away… people crush it." Andy sighed. "Yah, and if you don't, you'll be alone. Chucky, you gotta take risks. Things happen. I should probably stop breathing so I won't suck in any bacteria," said, rolling his eyes. Chucky leaned against him sadly. "I just don't want you to get hurt," he said softly. Andy looked down at his doll's forlorn face. His eyes looked clouded and sad. "You've gotten hurt, haven't you, Chucky?" Andy asked calmly. "You've gotten hurt a lot, and now you're scared." Chucky tried to go into denial, but he didn't have the will.

***

So I told him. I told him everything. But most importantly, I told him about my dad. He used to be so amazing. I loved him more than anything, and he loved me. But one day, war called. So it was off to the army with him. I waited everyday for him to come home. I remember sitting at the window, seeing the shadows and thinking that maybe one of them was him.

Then, finally, he came home. I was so happy to see him. I ran to meet him, to hug him, to tell him how much I missed him. But he shoved me away. The father I knew was different. The war had changed him.

My father wasn't the same when he came back from the war…

That girl, Kyle, came in after a while. I don't know what was up with her, but she suddenly had changed her mind about Andy. She looked like she had been crying. Maybe she had an epiphany? She realized that Andy wasn't so bad? Whatever it was, she told him he could sit with her on the couch.

Andy's fingers are in my hair now. I don't know if he realizes it. But it's alright; it feels kind of nice.

When was the last time someone touched me gently like this?


Karen was walking to her car from the office. It was nearly mid-night. She reminded herself to apologize to Kyle when she got home. "I told her two hours. Two hours!" she was chiding herself. "I should have never… I should have known Mr. Daylee would keep me so long… I swear he has Alzheimer's…" she was muttering to herself for such a long time, she had walked halfway across the parking lot when she realized she had passed her car several steps back. "Oh, goodness," she huffed in irritation. There weren't any cars left in the parking lot beyond her and her boss' except for one forlorn Honda Civic.

As she started back towards the building, a moving shadow caught her eye. She stiffened and peered out into the darkness, hoping she had seen wrong. Unfortunately, she had seen correctly. A street bum was headed her way. She walked a bit faster, hastening her steps to put distance between them, but the time she had taken to glance at the shape had given him time to catch up to her side. "Hey, missus," he slurred. He was drunk, and he had a strong stench of… filth. Karen knew whoever this man was, he was involved in more than one dirty trade, and she wanted no part of it. She pretended to ignore him, and reached in her purse for anything that could come in handy as a weapon against him. "Wait up, lil lady!" he called again. "I gotta cozy place fer you n me…" He reached for her, but she instinctively smacked it away. "Excuse me," she said sternly as she could. "But I have to go home to my son."

It was the wrong thing to say. "Oh, so you have kids, too huh? They can stay with Uncle Johnny… no worries missus, I take good care of young 'uns…" he urged, reaching for her arm again. She dodged his aim, but he was sobering now, and his aim would not be so careless next time. Her heart was beating really fast; if she didn't get away, her biggest worry was for Andy. She couldn't let him lose his mother too! She broke into a run. The drunker began to shout. The Honda Civic turned on and started towards her. I'm trapped, she thought. I'm trapped, and I've failed Andy, and Kyle. The car skidded to next to her, and she was surprised to see who was inside.

"Mrs. Barclay, please, come in." It was Norris, with urgency in his voice. She jumped back, startled. "What? What are you doing here?" The street bum was catching up to her again. "Hurry!" Norris exclaimed. When she still stood in bewilderment, he lunged for her arm and pulled her in, slamming the door shut. He eased her over to the passenger's side and put the car in drive, then sped out of the parking lot away from the yelling drunk. "Thank you," Karen said, a bit breathlessly. He had saved her life, after all. Her and Andy's. She owed him that much. "But what were you doing here?" Norris drove silently. Karen cleared her throat. "Mr. Norris?" she asked. "Oh, um, you can call me Mike, ma'am," he said politely. Karen stared at him; this seemingly awkward man was the same detective she detested? "Mr. No… I mean, Mike, what were you doing there?" she asked again. "I…" he began. He sighed and swallowed. "Please don't laugh at me."

Karen felt a bit insulted. "Why on earth would I laugh? I mean this seriously. You aren't in league with that bum, are you?" she pressed. "Oh, no. No," Mike said quickly. "I was just… looking for inspiration." He kept his eyes on the road, so Karen could not see his expression. She was confused. "Inspiration for what?" she asked suspiciously. "What could be so inspiring about an old parking lot?" Mike sighed. "Mrs. Barclay," he began, but Karen interrupted him to say, "Karen's fine, Mike." He started again. "Karen, you should know something about me." He looked over to the other lane and signaled before crossing over. The evening lights looked like stars. "I shouldn't be a detective, Karen," he said softly. He felt her eyes on him. "I was a writer. A romance novelist, actually. I wasn't that popular, and back then I went by Walter Norris."

Karen gave a gasp. "Omigosh!" She grabbed his arm. "You… you wrote The Long Await! Didn't you?" At Mike's nod, she went on. "My husband bought me when we were dating back in college! We would read it to each other all the time. It was beautiful!" She stopped, saddened by the reminder that the old days were gone. "Those days were great, those college days," she mentioned quietly. Mike gave a glance at her. "They were," he agreed with an equal feeling of loss. "Back then was when I opened up, found the world…" his heart was in his throat; he had never told anyone this before. But the drive was long, and somebody had to know. "Back when I found Madeline." Karen waited in the silence that followed; she knew that this was a touchy subject, but he had brought it up, so…

"Who's Madeline?" she asked. Mike skid the car to the side. Time seemed to stand still as they sat there, cars passing by on the highway. "Madeline… Madeline was my everything…" he choked. "She was the one who showed me the world. She painted my empty canvas of life! We were going to be married…" Karen was seeing him shake; she couldn't tell whether it was from anger or if he was crying. "We were going to be married," he was still saying softly to himself. "She'd sing to me, I'd read to her… God, I remember everything about her. Even what she smelled like…" Karen sighed sympathetically; she knew that feeling. The way she felt about her Andrew. "What happened?" she asked softly. Mike gripped the steering wheel. "She died…" he whispered. "On our wedding day. Charles Lee Ray killed her…"

***
Once upon a time, there was a man. A man who wrote so much about love, yet doubted he himself would ever find it. But one day, he found an angel. She lead him to heaven on earth. She was his salvation. Unfortunately, she had to return to the sky. Death, in the form of a serial killer, took her from him. She was found hanging over the church's front steps. Desperately, he tried to save her, but he was too late. She was slipping away. Even in death, she fought to make something clear. "Michael, honey, Charles Lee Ray… he's only… he's just… I love you…" The man became determined to reveal the rest of his beloved's sentence, only to find the killer dead years later…

Karen was crying. Mike was crying. It was raining. "I'm… I'm so sorry," she said slowly. Mike was starting the car again. "It's fine," he replied. "I'm… I'm getting used to it." Karen sighed and touched his shoulder gently. "But it never really goes away, huh? Instead of haunting the killer, you feel like maybe she haunts you?" Mike seemed startled. "How… how…?" Karen smiled almost mechanically. "I guess I owe you one, right?" she said, then pointed at a street. "Left." Mike turned the car and waited for her to go on. "He was late coming home," she began. "It was storming like crazy. I lied. I told my son that he died in a car accident… but it wasn't that at all…" she held herself to try to stop the pain, but the memories kept flooding back. Mike reached for her. "It's alright, Karen," he said comfortingly. "We loners will find a way. But, maybe now you understand why I'm so eager to find Charles, right?" Karen shook her head. "Mike, he's dead. It's over. Finding him won't change a thing." Mike had to disagree. "Listen Karen, when I found him dead, I discovered that maybe, maybe I had found what Madeline was trying to tell me…

***

I feel so warm. The drumbeat I hear is so soothing…

Karen stepped into her apartment. Kyle, Andy and the doll were all resting on the couch, the TV still going. She looked at the doll closely, almost reaching out to touch it, but Andy awoke then. "Mommy," he said with a sleepy grin. Kyle heard his voice and jumped. "What? No, it's over there…" she said, still waking from her dream. "Oh, Mrs. Barclay. You're home." She yawned and stretched. "I better get back to my apartment." Karen helped her up. "I'm so sorry, honey, my boss kept me later than I thought. Please give your parents my apologies." Kyle nodded. "No problem, Mrs. Barclay," she said. "Oh, by the way, some lady called. I let her leave a message." Karen nodded and headed to the phone as Kyle headed out the door. She pressed the message replay button and listened only halfway to a woman's voice, "Mrs. Barclay, this is Mrs. Kettlewell, Andy's teacher. I wanted to talk to you about him. He's a sweetheart, but there are some things…"

Karen's mind was somewhere else. She was still thinking about what Mike had told her, even as she put Andy and his doll in the bed. What he had said he had discovered.

"He's only a child…"