Apparition, p.24
Apparition, page 24
“He’s gone. He wanted to leave his room, and I guess the chair I wedged under his doorknob wasn’t strong enough. I could hear banging and I was halfway up the stairs when he busted out. I tried to stop him but he pushed by me, knocked me down. I don’t know how but his bed was on fire.”
“What?”
I run up the stairs with Kip close behind me. We stand at the entrance to Ethan’s bedroom and look at the large letters in black marker on his closet door. They’ve been written with a strange, careful hand. Not Ethan’s. There’s a huge, burnt-out hole in the middle of his mattress. I can see the metal coils inside.
I suddenly remember that Matthew said Jimmy wasn’t in the barn. That was almost a month ago. We run back down the stairs and I shout to Jack, who’s standing in the hallway, “Did you hear from Joyce?”
“No, not yet. I haven’t tried again. I didn’t have a chance.”
I grab the phone and dial her cell. No answer. I leave a message. “Joyce, call me as soon as you get this. Ethan’s in danger!” I hang up and dial Morris’s home number, getting his machine again. “Morris, when you get this message, please head to the barn right away. We need help. It looks like Ethan has ‘gone Jimmy’ on us—my younger brother, Ethan. He’s left the house and he’s … he’s got to be headed for the barn. That’s where we’ll be. Please come. Please!”
As I hang up, I realize that Kip has the car. So how could Morris even get to the barn? I turn to Kip. “We have to go.”
Just then, the phone goes. I answer on the first ring. It’s Joyce.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Where are you, Joyce?”
“I’m at the stables. What’s wrong with Ethan?” She sounds furious. I take a deep breath and lock eyes with Kip to keep myself steady.
“Joyce, I need you to go to the seniors’ residence in Williamsford and find Mrs. Ross. Mrs. Dorothy Ross. She calls herself Dee. You remember who she is? I need you to tell her that Jimmy has Ethan. Can you tell her that? Just say, ‘Jimmy has Ethan in the barn.’ And tell her who Ethan is. You have to trust me on this. It’s life or death.” I’ve been talking too fast for her to say anything, but now she jumps in.
“Amelia, you’re not making sense. What the hell is going on?”
Did she not hear anything I said?
“Ethan is headed to the Telfords’ barn. He’s acting just like Jack did the night he fell. The night he fell on purpose. You knew that, right? It wasn’t an accident—it was attempted suicide. Mrs. Ross knows what’s going on. Ethan is in terrible danger right now. I’m asking you to trust me, please!”
“What …?”
“Please, Joyce! We’ll be at the Telfords’ barn. Just bring her there as fast as you can.”
I hang up, then grab Kip by both arms. I’m terrified. We hold on to each other tightly, just for a second.
“Let’s go,” he says.
“I’m coming too.” Jack hops to the door on his crutches. He beats us out and moves down the porch steps as fast as he can, swinging his braceless leg along.
“Fine,” says Kip, “but you have to stay out of the barn. He got hold of you once and he can probably do it again. You’ll stay at the car and wait for help.”
The tires spray gravel as we race down the driveway in reverse and screech as we accelerate to full speed, racing south on 12th Line, Kip’s little Mexican skeleton flying. As soon as we pull into the Telford driveway, we see footprints in the snow, leading along the side of the house to the big barn door. I feel cold with fear. I don’t want to face this.
The car comes to a hard stop and Kip and I jump out. I turn to Jack in the back seat. “Stay here, Jack. Please. We’re going to get Ethan out of there.”
We run along Ethan’s tracks toward the barn. Taking one last, desperate look at each other, we peek in. Ethan is deep inside, pacing back and forth across the centre of the floor. We brace ourselves and step in. He doesn’t look up.
“Ethan?” I call to him like nothing’s wrong. “Ethan, come out of here. Ethan?” He doesn’t seem to hear me. I try a little louder. “Ethan?”
He’s ignoring me. We take another step closer. He looks agitated but nothing more—thank goodness. It’s like he’s waiting for something and he’s impatient. He’s waiting for Dot.
We creep a little closer.
“Ethan, it’s Amelia. Amelia and Kip. Jack’s outside.”
No response.
“Why don’t you come out and see Jack? He thinks he broke his finger when you pushed him down the stairs. Maybe you should talk to him about that. He’s pretty pissed off.”
Ethan’s still pacing, ignoring us. I look at Kip and whisper that I’m going to get nearer, and maybe he should stay behind me. He seems unsure. His eyes are on Ethan.
“Ethan?” I edge closer.
No response. I feel stuck, watching him pace like he’s in his own little world. If this keeps up, at some point we’ll need to jump him. Tackle him to the ground. Tie him up and drag him out. If only Jack could help. But even if Kip and I can handle Ethan ourselves, then what? Where do we go from here? To Emergency? To an exorcist?
Something moves off to my right. I turn quickly to look. It’s Paul Telford, watching from a corner. He looks anxious. Great—even the ghosts are afraid. I look around some more. “Matthew?” On the left side, inside an open stall, I see a shadow sitting in the dark. When I look hard at him, the figure slowly stands up. From the shape of the cap on his head, I can tell that it’s Willy. He’s watching us too. Now my eyes dart between Ethan, still pacing, and the rafters above. I scan the dark corners of the barn. I feel that cool, cobwebby sensation again. I spin around. Kip, standing about fifteen feet behind me, gives a start.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, gesturing with one hand. I turn back slowly. This will be difficult.
“Matthew?” I keep my voice low. “Matthew?”
A dark shadow forms against the back wall and Matthew takes a step toward me. I can see his face. He’s worried too.
“Matthew? Can you help? It’s Ethan.” I’m pleading now. “You’ve got to help us.”
He opens his mouth slightly, like he’s not sure what to say. He takes another step toward me. Toward Ethan. His eyes move from me to Ethan and back to me. Then I see him tilt his head. He’s looking behind me, at Kip.
“Matthew! Can you help or what?”
He seems to heave a sigh. He takes another step closer, looking at Ethan, then stops as if unsure. Maybe he can’t help. I turn to Ethan again.
“Ethan?” Nothing. I have to try something else. “Jimmy?”
Ethan turns his head, shoots me an angry look. He stops pacing for the first time since we arrived.
“Get out!” It’s Jimmy talking.
That’s all he says, and then he turns away. He seems distracted and confused, like we broke his concentration. He stops pacing, and in the dim light I can see that his features are strained and distorted, like he’s going to cry. I back up slowly until I’m next to Kip.
“This isn’t good.”
“What’s happening?”
“I don’t know, but this is how I found Jack. I think this is the pattern. Like he’s realizing that Dot’s not going to show up. How long ago did I talk to Joyce?”
“I don’t know. Twenty minutes? Maybe more?”
“Best just to keep an eye on him until he looks like he’s going to do something stupid, then we’ll tackle him.”
Kip nods. “It’s not like he’s got a weapon.”
Ethan starts making sobbing sounds, like his heart is breaking. I have a strong desire to comfort him, my little brother, and I leave Kip’s side and walk toward him again. He’s just standing in the middle of the barn, head down, shoulders shaking with his sobs. I’m about three feet from him when his head jerks up violently to face me. I have a heart-stopping flashback to the boy hanging by his neck.
“Get out!” he growls. “Get out!”
It gives me such a fright that I almost start crying myself. “Please don’t hurt my brother. Please let him go.” His eyes are blazing with hatred. I have to pull myself together. I back up to Kip’s side again. He steps forward and grabs my arm, holding tightly.
“Look, it’s going to be okay,” he whispers. “We just need to kill some time. If I have to, I can take him.” He tugs at my arm reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I can handle it.”
Ethan’s sobs are getting louder. It’s horrible. I don’t know what to do but watch and wait. Then I remember Matthew, and try to find him again. All I can see are shadows—shadows of young men moving slowly in the darkest corners of the barn. I can make out Willy by his cap.
“Willy! Willy, you have to help us.”
He comes closer. He’s wringing his hands. He looks devastated.
“It was my fault,” he says. “It was my idea, not hers. I made her tell him. Tell him she’d meet him in the barn. I had to teach him a lesson. I was going off to war, and I just wanted him to leave my sister alone.”
Ethan is muttering between sobs now, but the words are impossible to make out. He sounds insane. He’s working himself up into a rage. I feel like we’re waiting for an explosion. There’ll be no warning and nothing we can do.
“You met Jimmy in the barn. Your sister told us what you did.”
He’s shaking his head. Backing away again. “I didn’t mean for it to end that way,” I hear him say. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“I know that, Willy. And Dorothy knows it too. You couldn’t have guessed what Jimmy would do. But you have a chance now to put things right.” I’m crying to him, pleading with him, but he’s disappearing. “Don’t go! Help us!”
I turn back to Ethan. “She’s coming, Jimmy.” Then I shout it out. God knows what effect that’ll have, but I’m feeling desperate. “Dot is coming!”
“Where? Where is she?”
Have I just made things worse? I hold on to Kip as Ethan’s rage escalates, his words echoing up through the rafters. And then he makes a move. He dives under the platform along the wall. Scrambling on hands and knees, he lunges for the pile of solvents I dumped from the crate last time we were here. He grabs a container of something and pulls off the cap, dousing himself in what smells like fuel, drenching his head, his clothes.
“You don’t want to do that!” Kip shouts, diving under the platform toward him.
I’m frozen. I can only watch as Kip tackles Ethan, knocking him backwards into the straw. They wrestle under the platform, which is too low for either one to stand up. Kip is larger and stronger, and he’s trying to drag Ethan back into the open barn. But Ethan is too wild and out of control; he’s viciously kicking and throwing punches that Kip tries to block. He doesn’t want to hurt Ethan, and they end up rolling in the damp straw until they’re both covered in fuel.
Then Ethan grabs another metal container and whips it hard at Kip’s face. There’s a horrible clunking sound as it connects. Kip tries to pin him down and pull him out at the same time. Ethan rolls onto his back and kicks out his thick boots, landing a solid blow against Kip’s chest. I hear the thud as Kip staggers back under the platform and hits his head hard on a wooden beam. He slumps forward to his knees. Ethan rolls over and crawls out from under the platform, scrambling to his feet. Kip staggers out behind him, weaving, facing Ethan with raised fists. He’s bleeding from his forehead and cheek.
Ethan starts laughing. He has something in his hand, something orange that he’s waving at Kip. It’s Joyce’s cigarette lighter! They’re both covered in oily black fuel; the fumes fill the air.
“Ethan, NO! Please don’t!” I scream. “Kip! You’ve got to get out!”
Kip staggers backwards a step but holds his ground. His eyes are on the lighter. I lunge at him from behind, grabbing two fistfuls of his open coat, pulling him away from Ethan and back toward the barn door. Blood runs down his forehead, the side of his face. Ethan keeps laughing, waving the lighter.
Just then, a voice behind us roars like thunder. “Ethan, what the HELL do you think you’re doing?”
It’s Joyce. She steps in front of Kip and me, turns to us and points us both toward the door.
Ethan sneers at her. “Get out!” he growls.
She looks at him, shocked. “Outside!” she yells, turning back to us. She helps me get Kip to the door.
I can see Jack outside, hopping on one crutch, petrified with fear. We stagger out and stand a few feet back from the door. Kip is dazed, blood dripping everywhere. Joyce looks down at his fuel-soaked clothes. She turns back and takes another hard look at Ethan. He’s swaggering, smirking, her lighter in his hand. “Stay here. Keep him clear,” she tells me, nodding at Kip. Then she turns to someone standing behind her.
“Mrs. Ross? Are you sure?”
34
Mrs. Ross steps around the corner of the barn, clutching her white cane. She looks tiny and terrified.
“Mrs. Ross?” I hold my hands out to her and she takes them, squeezing tight. Behind her thick glasses, her eyes are full of tears. I don’t know what to say. “It’s my baby brother, Ethan. Please be careful.”
“You take care of Pip,” she says with a quivering smile, glancing in Kip’s direction, and she lets me go. She turns to face Joyce. “Yes, I’m sure,” she says, and leaving her cane leaning up against the barn, she shuffles inside, alone.
I look at Joyce. “Hold on to Kip,” I say.
“I’m okay. I’m okay.” He’s angry. “Amelia, don’t!”
Joyce puts an arm around him as I turn toward the barn door. “Amelia!” Her voice is severe.
“I have to go in. I’m the only one who can see them.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but I’m already on my way into the barn when I hear it: “Just like her mother.”
Part of me wants to turn around and have it out with Joyce right there, but I need to focus on Mrs. Ross. She’s taking baby steps, shuffling toward Ethan, who still stands in the middle of the barn, soaked in fuel, lighter in his raised hand. He’s no longer smiling, though. He’s trembling, his eyes growing wider as she approaches.
“Dot?” he whispers.
“Let that boy go, Jimmy. You let that poor boy go back to his family.” She looks around the barn, then back at Ethan. I know she can barely see him.
He’s still trembling. “Dot? Is that you?”
Mrs. Ross looks hard toward Ethan now. “Let him go, Jimmy. You’ve caused enough suffering. Let him go.”
She walks to within about five feet of him. Ethan turns to her. His baby face, barely out of puberty, softens into an eager grin. He’s covered in sweat and oily fuel and straw.
“I knew you’d come, Dot. I always knew it. I’m the one you love. I’m the one you’re going to marry.”
I can’t believe this. Ethan, my baby brother. His eyes still glisten with tears, but he’s brightening up. He keeps the plastic lighter held high.
“And I’ll take good care of your daddy’s farm. And we’ll live here forever. And we’ll be happy forever.”
Mrs. Ross shakes her head. “It was never going to happen, Jimmy. I told you it was never going to happen. You wouldn’t listen.”
Ethan’s expression changes. His features tighten. His mood is growing dark again. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that again! You said you’d come. You lied to me!”
“I was afraid of you. I wanted you to leave me alone.”
“You loved me. You … you kissed me.”
“Yes, I kissed you once. It was a mistake.”
“You broke my heart. You humiliated me!”
I step closer. I see shadows moving in the background.
“I’m sorry, Jimmy. I’m so sorry. What we did … it was mean.” Her voice is full of regret. “But that was a long time ago. Please let this boy go. He’s done nothing to you.”
“You were my girl.”
“No. I was never your girl. I was Philip’s girl. You know I was always Philip’s girl.”
“You said you’d come.”
“I was afraid of you.” Tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. “Willy said he’d fix it so you would leave me alone.” And then she stiffens and raises her voice in accusation. “And then you killed Willy.” She screams, “You killed Willy!”
“Your fault,” he shouts back.
Crying hard, she raises her thin arms at him, her hands fisted.
Ethan’s chin suddenly falls to his chest. The hand that holds the lighter slowly lowers, like he’s exhausted. Then he raises his hand again, his thumb moving toward the cap of the lighter, his sad eyes on Mrs. Ross. His arms, head and shoulders are glistening with fuel.
“Don’t!” she yells.
“Your fault.” He whispers it this time. His thumb moves over the lighter.
“NO!” Two voices—mine and Joyce’s, from somewhere behind me—scream in unison.
As we both lunge forward, I see Matthew appear from the shadows, his arm arcing, his hand swiping for the lighter. It flies out of Ethan’s grasp, hitting the edge of the platform and falling to the ground. There’s a spasm of shock on Ethan’s face and his eyes blink hard in disbelief. Then he collapses to his knees on the dirt floor, shaking. He looks up with terrified eyes and a tear-streaked face.
“Mom?” he whimpers. “Mom?”
He’s free. Jimmy has let my brother go. He’s choking on tears, his shoulders shaking, his face full of pain. And in that one confusing instant, I realize it’s Mom he’s crying about.
Joyce and I both run to him. We throw our arms around him and half carry him out of the barn, and he falls in the snow, crying. He’s okay. He’s safe. On my knees, I hold him, rock him. I realize that when we lost our mother, Ethan’s heart was broken. And to Jimmy, heartache is heartache.
“Everything’s going to be okay, Ethan.” He looks at me, his face twitching between sobs. Why didn’t I get it before? “I’m sorry, Ethan. I’m so sorry. We love you.”
Joyce has an arm around him, and I feel her hand on my shoulder as well. “We all miss her, Ethan,” she whispers to him. “It’s okay. We all miss her.”
