Chameleon ✔️

Dreams

The last time I'd had the nightmares, we'd been up in Philly. They'd pieced together like a game of Clue: in my room with the rope, at the park with the pond, at school with the revolver, at the grocery store with the butcher knife. But the whodunit was the same man every time, always the man with the salt and pepper hair, the pointed chin, and the eyes black as the aura of fear.

Dad attributed the dreams to PTSD, but what I soon found out was they were warnings. Whether he was putting them in my brain or my mom was, I still don't know. But one thing's for certain: after the nightmares comes the Boogeyman himself.

I never came face to face with Gray when we were living in the land of cheesesteaks, but Dad did. I know because I came home from school one afternoon and my bag was packed and on the bed, waiting. Dad was on the phone with Brody, trying to talk softly so I wouldn't hear.

"The population here is greater than where we stayed last time. How is it possible that he could've found us?! I was at the supermarket, Brody. The supermarket! I walked in, saw him in the frozen food isle, left my cart and hauled butt outta there!"

A pause. "No, I have no idea if he saw me. But he might as well have! He was just perusing the toaster waffles like he was any other random citizen! By the time I remembered to call 911, he would've been long gone. I should've waited. I should've seen what car he was driving. I should've chased him down and put him in handcuffs myself, because you guys sure as heck aren't doing it!"

A long, drawn out sigh. "I'm sorry, Brody. You know I didn't mean that. I'm just upset with myself because my first instinct was to get home to be with Aspen, when if I'd stayed or called the cops he might be in prison right now and we wouldn't even be having this conversation."

Another pause. "Of course I'm not saying we give up. She's my whole world. I'll keep running the rest of my life if I have to. That's just... not the lesson I wanted to teach to my kid, you know? To not face your problems. To run and hide."

Pause number three. "Yeah, I know he killed Delia! You don't have to remind me. I just feel like there's more I could be doing. As a father. ...Yeah, I know that's not your area of expertise. ...Yeah, I'll check my e-mail." Then he'd hung up.

When he'd checked his e-mail, he'd printed out two plane tickets to Malibu. "Look, Penny, we're going back to the beach!" He'd tried to make it sound like just another family vacation. Except one-third of my family was gone. And what did I even need a vacation from? Trying to stay alive? Besides, I hadn't wanted to go to the beach. The ocean only reminded me of Mom.

I'd rolled my suitcase to the front door nevertheless. "Next time, let me pick the place."

"There shouldn't have to be a next time," my father had said.

I'd been right not to believe him.