The Good Girl Read online



   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  The Good Girl

  A Short Story by

  J.L. Hohler III

   

   

  © 2015 The Good Girl

  All Rights Reserved.

   

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed here are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

   

   

  The Good Girl

  The phone rang early.  It was dark, the soft glow of the screen on the phone illuminating the room electric blue.

  Can you get me?

  It was Adele.  Her voice quiet.  Almost afraid.

  Can you come?

  Hesitation, looking at the clock.

  Isn't it early for--?

  Please?

  Charlotte sighed.

  Tell me where.

  * * * * *

  It wasn’t until she arrived Charlotte realized the address was a bus station.  A small building with two cashiers selling tickets.  The busses lined up outside under free-standing roofs.  Shade and covering from the rain, good for little else.

  Adele was inside, near the toilet.  Hair unwashed, looked strung out.  Charlotte almost didn’t recognize her.  Walked by twice before she finally did.

  You’re thin.

  Adele stood, her clothes overlarge on her shape.  Hung loosely.

  Have you been eating?

  We don’t…

  You look hungry?  Are you…?

  Adele did not answer, only stared distantly.

  Adele?

  She looked back.

  I was afraid you wouldn’t come.

  Why wouldn’t I come?  I said I would and...

  Yes.

  I wouldn’t mean it if I didn’t say it.

  But…

  But what?

  Adele looked around.  Eyes left.  Then right.  Looking for something -- Charlotte could not tell what.

  What is it?

  I’m ready to leave.

  * * * * *

  Adele relaxed in the car -- seemed to.  Leaned back in her seat and feigned dozing, eyelids drifting up and down as if fighting sleep.  Even so, Charlotte could tell it was an act.  Could see her eyes darting about under those heavy lids, as if looking after unseen enemies, lurking behind every bush.  Whatever she did or did not see, she would not say.  Only wrapped her arms about herself and glanced out the window.  

  * * * * *

  Home, Paul was awake.  The girls around the breakfast table, eating cereal.  They were as shocked to see Adele as she was them.

  You have children?

  No -- not exactly.  The girl’s are Paul’s.  From his…

  Adele did not seem to be listening.  Only stared at the girls, back and forth from one to the other.  

  It was Paul who spoke.

  You should introduce them, Charlotte.

  Oh, right.  Well, this is Sophia -- and that is Julia.

  Adele went on looking at the children.  So young and wide-eyed she could hardly fathom it.

  Go on, girls, say hello.

  Julia, the bravest, was first.

  Hello.

  Sophia, quieter, was second.

  Hi.

  Girls, this is my sister.  Adele.

  Adele offered no greeting, only went on looking at the girls.  

  They looked at her.

  And I’m Paul.  

  He stood and put out his hand.  

  It’s good to finally meet you -- I’ve heard so much...

  Adele looked at his hand, out there in space between them.  Seemed unable to comprehend what it required of her.  

  Instead, she looked at the children again.

  These are...your...children?

  Yes, they’re mine.  With my first wife.

  Is she…?

  We are divorced.

  But God…?

  I put my faith in the law.

  Charlotte smiled, uneasily, and touched Adele’s elbow.

  Would you like a shower?  Maybe breakfast?

  She looked at Charlotte.

  A shower, yes.

  The girls watched after her as Charlotte lead her away, both certain they’d seen a ghost in the flesh.

  * * * * *

  Adele cleaned up fine but a shower and fresh clothes could only drape weight upon her -- she remained thin, wan and unhealthy under them.

  Still, Charlotte tried to stay positive.

  It’s been too long -- years.

  Adele agreed, though her eyes said she had no concept of time any more.

  I thought I’d hear from you sooner.

  Adele nodded.  Said nothing.

  Where’ve you been -- were you…?

  Adele twitched her shoulders.

  Travelling.

  Oh?  Where?

  The shoulder twitch again.

  Well, I wish I could travel.  I’d like to go--

  Adele wasn’t listening -- she was looking towards the window.  As if she waited for it to open and somebody to climb through.

  What is it?

  Adele looked back.  Said nothing.

  The way you look, it’s like--

  Charlotte could not tell what it was like.  

  What are you thinking?

  Adele sighed.

  Tired.

  That’s what you think?

  Yes.

  But it’s morning.  How can you…?

  Tired.

  Charlotte blinked her eyes.  Mulled it.

  Would you like to lay down?

  * * * * *

  Adele slept.  Through the morning, afternoon and into the evening.  Finally rose and drifted downstairs again to find them in the dining room.  Paul at one end of the table.  Charlotte at the other.  The girls in between.

  I would have called you to join us, but you--

  Adele looked at dinner on the table.  Stir-fry -- homemade.  Vegetables.  White rice.  Egg rolls.

  Adele?

  Do you have milk?

  Paul and Charlotte looked at one another.  Then Adele.

  Milk?

  Yes.  

  Of course, we have milk.  We--

  Honey?

  Yes, I think so.  In the pantry, maybe.

  I’d like that.

  Charlotte rose and led Adele to the kitchen.  Took down a glass from the cupboard, then the milk from the refrigerator and then the honey from the pantry.  Watched Adele mix equal parts honey and milk in a glass, slowly stirring them together.

  Are you sure you wouldn’t like something...solid?  I’ll make you anything you want.

  Adele didn’t say.  Only drank from the glass.

  Adele?  Are you all right?

  I’m…

  She drifted off, mentally, audibly and physically, taking her glass out through the french doors to the deck and into the yard beyond.  Stood in the grass and looked up at the moon and stars.  Breath visible.  Her bare feet down in the grass.

  Charlotte came out after her.

  You should put on a jacket -- or shoes.  You don’t want to catch cold.

  Adele did not answer.  Only stood looking at the stars as if there was nothing else in the world to see.

  * * * * *

  Paul waited until the girls were tucked into bed, and Adele bedded down again -- Charlotte thought it odd Adele would sleep again so soon after waking, but did not argue it -- and he before he said anything.

  There’s something not right.  I don’t want to be obvious, but she’s not right.

  Charlotte did not want to admit as much,
what she could not deny.

  I know.

  She’s odd.

  She’s always been--

  And what she ate?  That--

  I know.

  Paul paced.

  Maybe it’s drugs.

  Charlotte shook her head.

  No, Adele was always afraid of needles.

  There’s other ways to do drugs than needles.

  But all she’s done is sleep -- when would she have time…?

  They find time.

  Maybe.

  All I know is -- I worry about the girls.

  You don’t think she--

  I’m just worried -- that’s all I’m saying.  

  Charlotte was worried as well.

  Then...what do we do?

  I don’t know.  Maybe talk to Dr. Esmire?

  You mean -- you mean an institution?

  I don’t know what I mean.  I only know we have to consider our options.

  Fine.  Just...just let me take to her first, all right?

  * * * * *

  And then, for a moment, just as she was a wisp when she arrived -- a confused wisp of a woman -- she suddenly wasn’t.  She was lucid and just as Charlotte remember her being.

  She was almost normal.  Sitting in the dining room sipping a mug of tea when Charlotte came down before the girls awoke for school.

  Do you remember the tree house?  In the woods behind the house?

  Charlotte did.  It was where she’d kissed her first boy -- the first of many boys.  One of the Gardners from up the street.  

  I never took to the Gardners.  They had those eyes...

  Too bad -- there were plenty to choose from.

  But I did kiss Freddy Cooper.  You remember how small he was?

  Charlotte did and they both had a laugh over the memory.  So loud and boisterous even Paul noticed.

  The girl’s are still sleeping.

  Sorry.

  He went away, leaving them alone again.  Charlotte looking at Adele.

  We’re not so different, are we?  You and me?  We’ve always been--

  But even as Charlotte said it she knew they were different.  No matter how many memories they might have in common, no matter how many experiences were much the same, it was hard to ignore that the busty, frothy young woman she’d known before was now pale and thin.  

  Those things would not go away.

  * * * * *

  Lucidity departed by noon.  Adele sitting on the back porch, just watching out over the backyard.

  Penny for your thoughts?

  What?

  Nothing.  Just...the way you were looking at the yard made me wonder what you were thinking.

  Adele shook her head.

  Nothing.

  Then she looked up.

  The children?  I haven’t heard the children.

  They’re at school -- you remember Paul took them to school?

  Adele nodded but didn’t seem to have that memory.

  Adele, are you on--

  School?

  Yes, they go to school.

  Adele looked out over the yard again.

  They let me teach the little ones.

  They...?

  They let me teach the little ones -- numbers and letters.

  Charlotte stepped closer.

  Who let you teach?

  The family.

  What family?

  Adele didn’t say.

  * * * * *

  Charlotte went out short of four to wait on the bus to plop the girls down at the end of the drive and just after she walked back up to the house with them, her cellphone rang -- it was Adele.

  Can you get me?

  Why would I need to get you -- you’re on the back porch.

  No.

  Charlotte looked out the windows, one after the other, to confirm it.   Then around the outside of the house just to see it again.

  Can you get me?

  * * * * *

  Charlotte gave the girls a hasty explanation -- Adele went for a walk and got lost.  She did not explain why Adele was nine miles from the house.

  People get lost all the time.

  The girls just nodded they understood, even though it was clear both knew they were being lied to.

  Adele was exactly where she’d said she’d be -- on a park bench outside a Dairy Queen.  It’s where a man let her use his phone to make the call.  She asked him for money for the pay phone and he loaned her his phone instead.

  So you went for a walk…?

  Yes.

  Charlotte looked at the girls in the rearview mirror.  They were watching Adele.

  And you got lost?

  She hadn’t.

  I knew where I was.  That’s how--

  You just went for a walk?

  Adele nodded.

  A walk?

  Yes.

  Adele looked away, her eyes darting after something.

  And you weren’t going anywhere?  Just for a walk?

  Yes.

  Charlotte thought this over.

  Is this what you did before you came here?

  I don’t remember.

  What about the family?  Where was that?

  A farm.  Upstate.

  And they had children?

  Some.

  Charlotte looked at Adele’s hands, folded in her lap.  The fingers stained black.

  What did you do to your fingers?

  There were berries, behind the house.

  Charlotte looked over.

  Which house?

  Adele didn’t say.  Charlotte looked at the girls, then Adele again.

  You know you can tell me anything?

  Adele did but said nothing.

  * * * * *

  Adele took a shower and slept.  Curled up on the bed, the sheet thrown over her.  Her naked body below.

  While she slept, Charlotte carried off her things to the laundry room.  The clothes from off her back.  Her jacket.  The canvas bag she came with.  Meant to wash them.  Search them.  Pushing her hands inside them, feeling about the pockets, feeling about the nooks and crannies.

  Empty.

  An empty bag.

  An empty jacket.

  Empty clothes.

  Nothing else.

  When she finished looking she turned about and there was Adele.  Standing naked in the doorway.

  Jesus!

  Adele looked at her.

  You can’t sneak up on people like that -- you can give somebody a heart attack.

  Adele went on looking.  Hardly seemed cared she was completely nude.

  I was just...I just thought I’d wash your things.  

  Adele looked at her.  Inscrutable eyes.  Impossible to read.

  Maybe we’d better get some clothes on you.  Don’t want you running around the house like that.

  I don’t mind.

  Well...I do.

  Charlotte edged out.

  Let me just see what I can find.

  Adele stood where she was.

  * * * * *

  Charlotte explained it carefully as she could but there seemed only one choice to Paul.

  A mental hospital?

  Dr. Esmire said it’s common in cases…

  I don’t know if I like my sister in a loony--

  They don’t call it that, Charlotte.

  Maybe not, but it’s the same thing.

  Yes, I know, but...but it would only be for observation.

  For now, you mean?  For now?

  Charlotte chewed a fingernail.  Mulled this.

  How long would she be observed?

  I don’t know.  Dr. Esmire was not specific, but he said…

  Charlotte wasn’t listening.

  She said something today, before she went for her walk -- about a family.

  A family?

  They let her teach the children.

  What family?

  I don’t know.  You don’t think...does a family sound like…?

  I have no id
ea what it sounds like -- all I know is she obviously needs help.  Whether it’s drugs or something else, she needs help.

  All right.

  Then I’ll call Dr. Esmire in the morning and he’ll take care of everything.  

  * * * * *

  Paul took the girl’s to his parents.  He wouldn’t say he felt safer with them out of the house and did not need to.  Charlotte understood.

  She also understood why he locked the bedroom door, even if she couldn’t believe it was truly necessary.

  Do you really think she…?

  It’s better to be safe, no?

  I don’t -- but she wouldn’t -- would she?

  I don’t know.  I just don’t know.

  Charlotte didn’t argue over it and so let him lock the door.  Then he brought her a sleeping pill from the medicine chest and a cup of water.

  After she took it, he lay beside her.

  Everything will be okay, won’t it?

  It will be fine.

  Dr. Esmire can take care of it?

  He can.

  She smiled, but hardly looked happy.  Merely laid back, sleep taking her almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  Paul did not sleep -- could not sleep.  After two hours staring at the ceiling in the dark without the slightest hint of it coming for him, he wished he’d taken a pill as well.  When he finally rose for one of his own, he heard movement outside the door.  Then, the stairs.

  Tentatively, he pressed his ear to the door -- the movement was farther on nopw.  Downstairs.

  When he opened the door and looked out, the hallway was empty.  Still, he could hear movement.  Feet on tile.

  Hello?

  There was no answer from the top of the stairs but even as he called down -- quietly called -- he knew it was Adele.  There was no other it could be.

  I can hear you there.

  There was no answer, only the shuffling of feet.  Rummaging.  Tinkling, as of coins.

  I’m coming down.

  And he did.  Feet on the stairs.  Hardwood floor down the hall -- softly.  Found her in the kitchen, at the counter.  Charlotte’s purse open, wallet spilled.  Adele counting the money -- and buttons.

  What are you…?

  Adele looked up.  Deer in headlights.

  Adele…?

  Paul glanced at her hands, the contents of the purse and pocketbook on the counter before her.  A knife -- a chef’s knife -- laying aside it.

  Adele -- what are you --?

  She did not let him finish, only flung herself across the counter and atop him.  The knife point through his chest.  Blood soaking into the carpet when he stumbled into the living room and collapsed on the floor.

  * * * * *

  It was answered on the third ring.  The phone.

  Adele?

  She didn’t answer.  

  Adele -- I’ve been waiting.

  She said nothing -- did not need to.

  Walk outside -- to the end of the walk.  Turn right.