Chapter 7
Misty got to the school two minutes early, but instead of Fiona concentrating on the clock like she normally did, she was playing jumprope with a group of girls. Eve handed Misty the clipboard to sign her name out.
"She's doing a lot better," Eve said, and Misty smiled.
"I'm glad. Brock and I were worried she might not adjust, but she looks like she's having a lot of fun," Misty said, and then Eve pulled her aside.
"Listen, can I ask you a favor?" Eve asked, lowering her voice so the other parents couldn't hear her. "I have to travel to Celadon City tonight. It's...It's a family emergency. I can't get a sitter on such short notice, and I was figuring since Fiona and Holly are such good friends, that maybe she can spend the night at your house."
"It's a school night," Misty said, but then shrugged. They were four years old. How late could they possibly stay awake?
"You can take Holly to school tomorrow morning with Fiona," Eve said. "I'll pick her up tomorrow afternoon. I have an overnight bag for her in my car."
"Alright," Misty agreed, and Eve signaled for one of the other teachers to take over while she went out ot the car to get Holly's overnight bag. Misty walked over to where Fiona was playing jump rope. She was the only jumping, while Holly and another child were on each end, swinging it in a rhythm and singing a tune.
"Fiona?" She asked, and Fiona glanced over.
"Not now, Mommy," she said, breathlessly. "I'm almost to 30!"
Misty didn't want to ruin her concentration, and impressed that Fiona could already count to at least 30 without any help, she watched until finally Fiona didn't make the jump, and they all burst out into a fit of giggles.
"Whose turn is it now?" A blond headed little girl asked.
"I gotta go," Fiona said, pointing over to Misty. "My Mommy is here."
"Holly," Misty said, motioning for the little girl to come over. Holly rushed over and stood next to Fiona, who clung tight to her mother, despite the fun she was having just a minute ago. "Listen, your mother wants you to come and spend the night with Fiona. Doesn't that sound like fun?"
Holly's eyes lit up. "Really? We get to play all night?"
"Well, maybe not all night," Misty said, smiling warmly. "But maybe I can give you guys some ice cream and a movie before bed. Does that sound like fun?"
"Yea!" Fiona cheered, and Holly looked towards the door to see her mother approaching them.
"Here you go," she said, handing the bag to Misty. "It's got her pajamas and a change of clothes for tomorrow. A long with her favorite Squirtle doll."
"OK," Misty slung the bag over her shoulder. "Thank you, Eve. I'll make sure the girls have lots of fun tonight." She looked down at both of them and outstretched her hand. "OK, now hold my hand when we walk out into the parking lot."
Holly and Fiona both grabbed her hand and Eve watched them walk toward the car.
She wished she could bring Holly home to her father one day.
...
February 1994
Cerulean City was covered in a thick blanket of snow. Misty woke up, kicking the quilt off of her sweatsoaked body. It took her a moment, but she remembered where she was. She was at home, in her bed, and even though her room was dark, the moon outside reflected off the snow and banished all the shadows in her room.
She pulled the quilt up around her nose, trying to ward off the cold and the terror that had gripped her during her nightmare. Finally, deciding to brave the walk to her mother's room, to curl up beside her and escape the cold chill, Misty placed her tiny socked feet on the hardwood floor below her bed and exited her room, seeing the door at the end of the hall.
Misty ran as fast as her tiny legs would carry her, holding her Horsea doll in her hands. She turned the knob and opened the door, but stopped when she saw what was inside. She recognized her mother's shoes, six inch red stilletos that Misty thought were stilts. They were raised high in the air, and a large man, who she did not recognize was on top of her mother. She heard, what she thought was sobbing or crying, like she was in pain, and Misty searched for her voice.
"Mommy?" She finally choked out, her eyes growing wide.
The man turned his head towards her, peering at her from over his shoulder. He had a wide grin and something about it sent a shiver up Misty's spine. He was leering at her, and his expression changed, as his body stiffened and he let out a loud moan, all the while keeping his eyes on her.
She shuddered and closed the door, suddenly longing for the shadows of her bedroom. She hurried across the cold hallway and dove back into her room, closing the door and clambering back into bed. She was no longer afraid of what was in her room, but was suddenly afraid of what lay beyond the door.
That man. He was not a good man. He was hurting her mother, and now he wanted to hurt her, too. The house was quiet. Eerily quiet. Then, she heard the creaking of the door and heavy footsteps start down the hall.
Instincts kicked in, and Misty struggled to open the window, budging it just enough to fit her tiny body through. There was a 3 foot drop, but she climbed trees plenty of times, and so she braced herself for the fall, landing in a bush and rolling to her feet.
The cold was biting and penetrated her fleece pajamas, but the fear was starting to subside. She looked up to her bedroom window, and even though the wind was howling against her, making her eyes water, she could see a face.
Fear gripped her again, chilling her far more than the winter ever could. A man stared down at her from her bedroom window, and she stood up, running away from the house when she heard a voice. She spun around and saw her three older sisters around the backside of the house. She ran to the them, and Violet wrapped a coat around her little sister and popped her tiny feet into some oversized boots. Misty's toes were numb for running in the snow.
"Just stay here. Stay quiet," Daisy said, her three sisters taking their baby sister and huddling around her to keep her warm. She shivered, and looked up at them, keeping her voice to a whisper.
"Why are we out here?" Her voice shook because of the cold, but mostly out of fear.
"That man is a bad man, Misty," Violet said. Being almost 10 years old, she fully understood what he was, and she knew when she saw her little sister fall from her bedroom window at 2 A.M., without any shoes on, that he had come after her.
Misty kept quiet and cuddled into Violet's coat, warding off the cold with her body heat. She wondered if they would have to stay out here all night, and she had no idea when the sun would be up. When the front door flew open, Violet clutched Misty close to her, sheilding her from view before they all retreated back into the shadows of the night.
The man stumbled out of the house and into an old toyota, his feet crunching heavily in the snow. Then he drove off, making long tire tracks in the snow that heavily dusted the road. Violet waited for a moment, then signaled that it was alright for her sisters to come out.
They snuck back inside the house, her sisters immediately racing to their rooms and closing their doors, but Misty wasn't quite fast enough and her mother met her in the hallway. She glared down at her 3 years old daughter, and dragged on her cigarette, blowing the smoke right in her face.
Misty coughed and closed her eyes, trying to get her eyes to stop burning.
"What do you think you are doing awake at this hour, Young lady?" Rose asked, her voice harsh and rough.
"I-I had a bad dream," Misty answered, looking towards her sister's closed bedroom doors. They were awake, too, but Misty didn't say anything.
"Do you know what happens to little girls who aren't in bed when they are supposed to be?" Rose asked her, gripping her shoulders.
Misty shook her head. "No."
"Then I'll show you," she dragged Misty into her bedroom, pulled a leather belt from somewhere in her closet and stripped her of her pants. Misty wasn't sure what was happening until the first blow was delivered. She howled in pain and tears streamed down her face.
Whack.
Whack.
Whack.
The cracking of the belt echoed through the house, and finally Misty was released from her mother's grip. Her mother replaced the belt back in her closet and looked at her.
"If you don't want that to happen again, then you stay in your bed until I tell you that you can get out of it. Do you understand me, Miss Misty? And close your window. I can't afford to heat the whole damn city!" She yelled, and Misty cried even harder, but nodded her head.
"Now quit your bellyaching and get into bed, unless you need a reminder," Rose pointed towards the closet, and Misty clumsily made it back into bed. She made it a point not to make any noise as she cried. Her mother slammed the door shut and plunged her into blackness. A blackness where she felt like she couldn't be seen, and for that, she was grateful.
...
Misty had not spoken to rose since she got home. She busied herself in the kitchen, making rice crispy treats for the girls and making a large jug of kool-aid. Brock's arrival home was marked by the sound of the front door opening.
Fiona ran up to him and he picked her up, kissing her on the cheek.
"Hey! How's my little princess doing today?" He asked, carrying her into the kitchen. He saw Holly standing on a step stool, helping MIsty mix up a bowl of rice crispy treats. He took one off of the trey that she had already cut and took a bite out of it.
"Well, hey there, Holly," Brock said, as he lowered Fiona to the floor.
Holly waved shyly and Brock turned his attention to his wife. "So...how are...things?" He asked, not wanting to draw the children's attention to what had happened just a few hours ago, but they didn't seem interested. They were cutting the gooey mold of rice crispies into stars, hearts and teddy bear shapes. Misty gave them a few cans of colored sprinkles and pulled Brock into the living room.
"I haven't spoken to her since I got home," she said, and Brock sighed.
"I've been fighting with myself all day long about whether or not I should even tell my Mom," Brock kept his voice low. "A part of me wants to because I've always been honest with her, and I love her, but another part of me doesn't want to hurt her."
He thought back to all those times he had protected his mother. Then he looked at his wife again, looking absolutely defeated.
"What do you think I should do?" Brock asked. Misty was a little shocked by his question. He had always been so sure of himself. Even when they were kids, he made the decision of when and where they would eat, sleep or travel to. She and Ash would just follow him, because he knew everything, or so it seemed like. He always had everything under control, but now, he was asking her what he should do.
She brushed his cheek with her hand. "You should have a talk with your mother. She doesn't deserve to be cheated on like that." Misty bit her tongue, refraining from calling her mother a dried up old bitch, but only because she didn't want Fiona to learn to call her grandmother that, even though it was the truth.
"Yea, you're right," Brock leaned in and kissed her briefly, then he smiled and walked back into the kitchen, where the girls were spreading sprinkles all over the rice crispy treats, and the counter.
"Look, Daddy! We made them sparkly!" Fiona pointed to the mess of red, green and blue sprinkles.
"That's very pretty," Brock said, trying to keep his mind off of what he saw this morning. But just as he believed he was succeeding, he heard the clicking of her heels entering the kitchen. Misty stood by the stove, not even acknowleding her mother's presents.
Even the children could feel the tension in the air, as they suddenly got very quiet.
"Brock, may I please talk to my daughter alone for a moment?" Rose asked, flashing a smile over to the girls.
"Sure," Brock said, lifting Fiona off of the stool, then helping Holly down. "I'll take the kids outside."
Misty gave him a look that said "Please don't go," but Brock shot her one back that said "It will be alright, Love." Then he was gone, the girl's giggles returned as they walked out into the backyard. There was a silence between them for a long time, and Rose was the first one to speak.
"I know you're angry," Rose said, and Misty chuckled at the word.
"Angry? Mother, you were screwing my father-in-law right in the place where my husband brings in money for our home," She picked up a block of cheese and began grating it. "And what's worse is you bringing him here and having sex in our shower! What do you think Fiona would think if she caught you kissing, or even doing more than that, to her grandfather in her own home?"
Rose looked at her, quite surprised. "Sweetheart, I assure you. This morning was the first time I've ever slept with Flint Harrison. I've never brought him into this house and had sex with him, much less in your shower." Her voice was calm, controlled, and that made Misty even more angry. How could her mother just sit there and lie through her teeth like that and not even falter just a little? It was like she was dead inside or something.
"Oh?" Misty asked, grating the cheese even harder. "Then tell me what man you brought in here and screwed in our shower then, mother?"
Rose looked at her, puzzled. "Misty, I have never brought a man into this house, and I sure as hell didn't have sex with anyone in your shower!" She paused for a moment, still seeing the look of suspicion in her daughter's eyes.
"I know I haven't been the best mother to you, and even though I came here to try to make things right with you, I know I seem to be making them worse," her eyes were fixed with her youngest daughter's. "But I would never bring anyone into your home without your permission or have sex with them in any part of your house unless you told me it was alright."
Misty looked over at her, then back at the bowl full of grated cheese. The block was almost gone. She peeled back the plastic and continued to grate the cheese. Rose sensed she wasn't going to say anything, and decided to speak.
"Misty, what is going on? What is this all about?" Rose's question hung in the air for a moment, and she wasn't sure if Misty was going to answer her or not.
Then, she put down the block of cheese.
"I found a used condom on our bathroom floor this morning," Misty said, stirring the taco beef in the pan.
"Well, it's probably Brock's," Rose replied.
"It's not," Misty replied. "Brock and I haven't used condoms in a long time. I've been on the pill since after Fiona was born, and we just had a talk and we both want another baby. He has no reasons to use a condom."
"He has no reason to use a condom, with you," Rose pointedly suggested, and Misty paused.
"No, Mom. Brock's not cheating on me," she said, that twinge of doubt forming in her mind once more. But how could she doubt her own husband? How could she doubt that man that stood by her in the delivery room, did the breathing excercises with her? The man who cut the umbilical chord on Fiona when she was born?
The man who made love to her so completely, so passionately and so often? The man who loved her even when she was angry. The man who loved her even when she was overreacting or stressed out. The man who always found a solution to her problems. He wouldn't. He couldn't. And hadn't she already apologized to him for doubting him this morning?
"He does have his father's DNA," Rose said, looking at her, and Misty felt a sharp stab of fear. "Cheating is inherited, Misty."
"He wouldn't do that to me!" Misty raised her voice, but promised herself she wouldn't yell. She didn't want the kids to hear her, especially since this was the first time Holly had spent the night here.
"I'm just saying," Rose said, putting her hands up defensively. "Brock is a very good looking guy. And I saw the way Holly's mother was looking at him on Saturday. You've always known how Brock is...Leaving you for 8 months to stay with some woman on a island, who was old enough to be his mother. Then there was the countless flirting before you two got married. Didn't you find nude photos on his phone of some girl when you were at the beach, the day you got married?"
"Stop it, please!" This time, she did yell, but her voice shook with tears. "Just stop it!" She threw down a spoon, into the sink and raced upstairs. She couldn't explain the condom, but DNA could.
...
Brock sat back in a lounge chair by the pool, reading the local newspaper, as the girls played a game of tag, which had turned into a game of hide-and-go-seek after a while. He peeked into the kitchen, through the paned door and saw that Misty and Rose were still talking.
He could tell by Misty's stance she was getting angry about something, and he wondered if he should intervene, but he reminded himself that Misty was more than capable of taking care of herself. She didn't always need his protection.
He flipped to the sports section, and then he felt something run into his leg. He flipped the corner of the page down to see Holly, staring up at him.
"Can I hide behind you?" She asked, innocently. "Fiona already knows all the good hiding places."
"Be my guest," he said, and Holly dove in behind his seat. Brock heard his own daughter finish counting to ten, then heard her little feet scurry across the grass, ducking behind bushes and looking behind the grill.
"Have you seen Holly, Daddy?" Fiona asked, looking over the edge of the pool.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I haven't seen her."
Fiona crawled in his lap, looking over the top edge of his paper. "Daddy!"
He raised his gaze up to meet hers. "What, Sweetheart?"
"Help me look!" Her voice taking on the tone of a whine, and Brock put her back on the ground and stood up.
"Alright, alright," he said. "Now if I were Holly, where would I be?"
Holly grinned as she listened to Brock intentionally leading Fiona into all the wrong places. The pool shed. Behind the tree. Behind the swing set. Under the picnic table. Then a wave of sadness came over. She didn't have a dad. Well, she had one, of course, her mother had told her about him, but she didn't know him.
She couldn't help but peek out and watch Brock lift Fiona onto his shoulders, so she could look into the tree at the impossible height. Then he jogged around the backyard, with her sitting on his shoulders, acting like he was an airplane and she was soaring through the air.
Unfortunately, her curiosity got her caught and Fiona pointed. "There she is!"
Holly's eyes widened and she stood to her feet. Brock let Fiona down gently onto the grass and he took her seat back in the lounge chair, but the girls seemed to have warn themselves out and Fiona crawled into his lap, leaning her head on his chest.
"You tired?" He asked, brushing the hair back from her face. She nodded slowly.
"And hungry," she said, looking up at him with her big blue eyes. Brock smiled at her, and then noticed Holly who was sitting on the lounge chair next to him, and he noticed the look in her eyes. She looked lonely.
"Hey, you want to go for an airplane ride?" He asked, and Holly's eyes lit up.
"R-really?" She asked. And he nodded, standing up and placing Fiona on the ground. He lifted Holly up and put her on his shoulders.
"Alright, now hold on," he said, and began jogging around the yard, letting Holly touches the leaves in the trees, that were changing colors. She giggled joyfully, and so did Fiona. Brock changed his voice to sound like an official sounding captain.
"This is your captain speaking. Where are you going, Miss Holly?" He asked.
"Candyland!" Holly giggled, and Brock made a sound that was similar to a radio turning on.
"Candyland it is!" He said, jogging her around for another 20 or 30 seconds, then stopping by the pool and speaking again. "This is your captain speaking. You have now arrived at your destination!"
He let Holly down gently and she giggled, and Brock settled back down into the lounge chair. This time, both girls crawled in his lap and Brock wondered about what was going on in the kitchen. He hoped Misty hadn't murdered her mother by now.
Holly leaned her head on his shoulder. "I wish you were my Daddy." She said, and Fiona smiled.
"Then I could have a sister!" She grinned and Brock looked over at Holly.
"Where is your Daddy?" He asked, and Holly pointed to the sky.
"Heaven," she replied, her big brown eyes locked on his. "Mommy said he went there before I was born."
"I'm sorry about that, Holly," Brock said, a feeling of sadness washed over him. He remembered how much he loved his dad, and how much it hurt him when he started to drink. The sad he remembered from his very early youth had somewhat died, too, when the alcohol came into play.
Misty's voice suddenly penetrated the windows, and Brock looked inside, he could tell Misty was yelling.
"Hey, listen, I have to go in and check on Mommy, OK?" He said, and Fiona began to crawl off of his lap, Holly followed. "If you two can promise me that you will stay in the yard, and not get in the pool while I'm not out here, I'll let you stay out here and still play, OK?"
"OK," Fiona promised and Holly nodded.
"OK, Fiona's Daddy."
Brock smiled down at both of them, and ruffled their hair a bit. "Remember, stay in the yard. No pool."
They both nodded again, and Brock felt confident enough to leave them alone for a few moments while he stepped inside to find out what had made his wife so angry. However, as soon as he opened the door, she had bolted up the stairs.
"Misty!" He called out, after closing the door to the backyard shut. "Oh Jesus...Rose, what did you say to her this time?"
"I told her the condom she found could have been yours, and she freaked out," Rose shrugged her shoulders. He growled in frustration.
"Misty!" He called out, up the stairs, and he could see their bedroom door was closed. He didn't want to leave the kitchen area, because he was still keeping an ear out for the girls, and he could see they were back to running around the yard, chasing eachother.
"The condom isn't mine," He said, and Rose raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "It's not." He reinerrated.
"Then whose is it? She accused me of bringing your father in here," she said, rolling her eyes.
"I-I don't know," he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "We had Ash over a couple weeks ago. He brought a long that girl he's with. Maybe it's his. But it's not mine. And if it's not yours..."
"Then that's the only explanation, right?" Rose asked, shaking her head. "I'm going to freshen up before dinner."
...
Fiona looked at the gate that surrounded their property. It was made of wood, and she remembered her dad painting it a deep red color the year before. She had wanted to help, but he hadn't let her. She was sad about that, but she was curious about what was beyond the gate.
Holly ran up behind her and smiled. "Wanna see what's on the other side?"
"My daddy says not to," Fiona said, trying to ignore her own curiosity.
"Well, we won't leave the yard," Holly said. "He said we couldn't leave the yard, but that doesn't mean we can't open the gate."
"I don't know," Fiona said, looking back towards the pool and the lounge chairs, a spot where she could see inside the kitchen, see her father talking to her grandmother. Or the woman she was told was her grandmother, but didn't feel like one.
"C'mon," Holly said. She was a little taller than Fiona, and almost almost a whole year older. "He won't know if we just peek really quick. We'll close it right back." She reached for the latch and slid it over, out of the socket it was in.
Then, she pushed the door open, but it didn't budge.
"It's stuck," Holly said, pushing it with more force. She was just stronge enough to push against the resistance. Fiona eagerly between the gate and the rest of the fence, and what lay beyond it made her scream so loud she felt her throat was bleeding.
A face of a girl, her eyes popped open, bulged out and swollen stared back at her. Her jaw hung open as if she was stuck in a permenant scream, and her skin was a sickly gray color, and her flesh was starting to rot and fall off the bone, exposing her teeth. Holly gasped as she too had seen it and blood curdling screams filled the neighborhood. Holly immediately let go of the fence.
Brock heard them screaming and immediately rushed to the door, yanking it open and running into the backyard just in time to have the two little girls run into his arms, visibly shaken and so terriffied that they wouldn't stop screaming or crying. They clung to him tightly.
"Hey, hey, hey," he called out. "Shhh. Hey, it's OK. It's OK. I've got you. I've got you, both. OK?"
Fiona looked up at him, her eyes filled with terror, as were Holly's.
Misty ran as fast as she could down the stairs, disreguarding her mother's presence the moment she heard her daughter's scream.
"What's wrong?" Her eyes fell on Brock. "What's wrong, Brock? Fiona, Holly, are you hurt?"
"Did you guys see a big giant bug or something?" He asked, chuckling, trying to calm them down. "You know, Fiona, your mother screams like that when she sees a bug."
Fiona shook her head. "Not-not-not a b-bug," she fretted, trying to catch her breath.
Holly shook her head as well. "A m-m-monster!"
Fiona gripped her father's shoulders so tight he thought he might pass out. He didn't know a four year old little girl could have that much force in her grip.
"Where's the monster?" He asked, deciding he'd play along. Apparently, whatever they had seen had genuinely freaked them out, and this wasn't just four year old little girls spooking eachother out, or being afraid of a cockroach. This seemed to be serious.
Fiona realized she couldn't tell him, and so did Holly. He told them not to go outside the fence, and maybe that meant opening it too. She should have listened. She really should have listened to him.
"Fiona, Holly," he said, looking straight at them. "You have to tell me where the monster is, or I can't protect you. And that's my job. So you have to tell me."
"I'll get in trouble," Fiona said, her eyes falling on her mother. She immediately ran to her, and Misty clutched her tightly in her arms, giving her a warm hug.
"It's OK, Sweety," Misty said, softly. "If something scared you, we need to know where it is, so we can make sure it doesn't hurt you. What exactly did you see?"
Misty was expecting them to describe a snake, or maybe even a harmless large rodent. They weren't uncommon in the area, and to a four year old, anything can be scary.
"Big eyes, looking at me," Fiona muttered, looking back towards the fence door that was now shut closed. Holly ran over to Misty, also seeking comfort in her embrace.
"It's against the fence," Holly said, as Misty wrapped her arms around her as well. "It wouldn't let me open it."
Fiona looked at her father who stood to his feet from his kneeling position. "I told you girls not to leave the yard." However, his voice held no anger, more of an annoyed resignation. He went towards the fence, looking on the ground for any signs of snakes or rodents that might have frightened the girls. Seeing none, he continued, and then swung open the gate.
It was swung open with ease, just a small creaking sound.
Fiona and Holly both tensed in Misty's arms.
Brock looked left and right, stepping out into the grassy lot behind their house that separated their property from their neighbors. Nothing. Nothing but an old shack about 20 yards away that belonged to one of their neighbors.
"Well, girls, whatever it was, it's gone now," He said, closing the gate and locking it. Fiona and Holly couldn't believe it.
"But Daddy," Fiona said. "We saw it!"
"We both did!" Holly confirmed, and Brock gave them a reassuring smile.
"Well the monster knew I was coming, so he ran and hid," he ruffled the hair on both of their heads. "Now come on, it's dinner time and it's starting to get dark."
He lead both girls inside the house and turned off the back light to the yard, plunging it into darkness. A darkness that Fiona and Holly both knew hid that horrible monster in it's depths.