Do You Remember?

Chapter 4

The roosters had perhaps wished to greet the day anew with their collective cuck-a-doodle-doos as if to mirror the moment I set foot in Grandrivera, the remotest village you ever heard about. I should have stopped off at the town closest to the mall, but the driver had recalculated his plans and decided to take me all the way. I marveled at the unusually clean pavement that contrasted against the puddle-filled, potholed-covered road, the first things I glimpsed, before turning to see Mr. Claytus standing near the roadside and chatting with an unfamiliar little boy. A relative perhaps! I waved at him, but he didn't see me.

The mysterious caller claimed that going home would reveal my friend's whereabouts. Though I could have gone to her house, my footsteps, having a mind of their own, took me across the street to the little alleyway that led to my home.

The mailbox displayed someone's bad attempt at art, a huge cross, spray painted across the front that blotted out our surname. When did such vandalism in the name of art emerge from this place? My mom will be hitting the roof when she learns about this!

She'll be hitting the roof about me too, having gone out yesterday without her permission.

I silently noted that the vines on the fence that bordered the track looked thicker. How did that happen? And what's with all the footprints on the ground of the muddied track? It must have rained! And did relatives visit while I was away?

Shrill young voices pierced the silence inside my parents' unpainted little flat. We must have visitors, I thought, surveying our galvanized rooftop that appeared more rusted than I remembered it to be.

I tiptoed around the watery puddles on the concrete, entered the porch, and set my bag down. Turning the doorknob, I found it bolted on the inside, as expected this early in the morning. I knocked on the door and called. "Mom! Mom!"

The voices died as one pair of eyes peeped at me from behind the curtains.

The front door opened and a huge middle-aged woman emerged. She wore a long dress with an apron tied to the front and her hair in a bun. "Yes!" she muttered.

She must have been a long-lost relative I never met. Two little faces peered at me from behind her as I waited to be let in, but the woman never lowered her hand from the doorway.

"You are?" I asked.

She looked at me as if I'd grown an extra head.

I tried to guess her identity. "You—are—one of my parent's relatives?"

The woman shook her head, appearing agitated. "Who's your parents?"

"Ruth and Bobby Parker."

"Never heard ah any Bobby Parker," she said, squinting her eyes as she appraised me from head to toe. "But, I knew a Ruth Parker!"

Why was she standing in my mom's house and speaking of her in the past tense? "Knew?" I asked.

"Yes! She sold this house to me mere months before she died."

"No. You're mistaken. My mother's not dead. She's alive and she never sold her house."

The two boys cupped their hands to their mouths, as they stared wide-eyed at me.

The woman's eyes grew wide in shock. "I beg your pardon!"

"My mother is alive. I saw her just yesterday, right here in this house."

"Don't know what you smoked young lady, but Ruth Parker's been dead over a year now."

"No. She's not dead and this is her house." I protested. "What have you done with her? Are you hiding her inside somewhere?" I tried to push past her to get inside but she put out her hand, stopping me, before pulling in the door a bit.

"Get out of my premises before I call the police!" she barked.

She should call the police, for herself! "Go ahead then. Call them, and tell them that you're an imposter who has stolen my mother's house. And make sure to tell them what you've done with her!"

"Okay then! Have it your way!" she said, slamming the door in my face.

I tried to calm the angry drumming of my heart as I turned away, an unusual sight startling me. A hooded figure leaned over the neighbor's garden as if examining it. Something familiar in her bearing reminded me of the woman in the field last night.

Deciding to take the shortcut to my friend's house, I cut across my neighbor's open cobblestone-paved front yard, passing the figure in a hurry, sparing it no more than a fleeting glance.

I froze as my bewildered eyes fell upon the neighbor's house. It appeared more dilapidated than it should be. Though ancient, it was the pride of the Jerrys, our next-door neighbors. But now climbers had overtaken the porch, and most of the windows and front door were broken and hung ajar.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" A woman's voice called out to me.

Turning. I saw no one, save for the figure looking at the flowers. She turned to me suddenly. "Are you lost, lost one?"

Those were the exact words the woman in the field spoke to me last night. It must be her! "I've seen you before!" I said, taking a few paces toward her. "You're the woman I met in the fields last night. Why are you following me?" Not watching where I was going I skidded and fell face down on the slightly muddied ground.

"I'm not following you!"

"Of course, you're following me! You were in the fields last night, and now, you're here,---!" I rose from the ground and stared dumbfounded. The woman had disappeared. Was I seeing things?

Pushing the thought from my mind, I turned and raced toward my friend's house.

The sight that greeted me thrilled my heart, yet filled me with confusion. Sue was outside with her mother, Mrs. Daniels who looked as healthy as a horse. Maybe it was the fresh air! But my confusion grew as I recalled the accident. Why didn't I find her when I woke up? Why did she travel home without looking for me? Hadn't she been worried about me?

Enraptured at my friend and her mother's happiness, I stood as if transfixed.

I watched them a while and when they did not see me, I sprinted over to them. "Sue." I cried, joy filling my heart. "I was so worried about you, last night. I'm happy that you're well!" The words tumbled out of my mouth.

A look of bewilderment crossed her face, as she furrowed her brows. "Do I know you?" she asked. Something was different about her.

"Of course, you know me!" I insisted, wondering what had bewitched everyone and everything in Grandrivera since I returned. "I'm Eva. Eva Parker, your childhood friend!"

"I'd recognize my childhood friend a mile away, and she's not you."

Her mother turned to look at me, pity in her eyes.

"I'm Eva Parker, your friend." I insisted, walking closer to Sue.

"I don't know any Eva Parker, sorry!" Sue replied, taking a few steps backward, as if frightened of the lunatic she pictured me to be.

"Have you heard of my mom then?" I begged, scanning the faces of both ladies. "Ruth Parker?"

"Ruth Parker never had any children. Poor thing died in an asylum!" Mrs. Daniels explained, pointedly.

"No. That's a lie! It's all a lie. There's something strange going on here."

Sue's pity grew as she stared at me as if I'd lost my mind.

"Yes, I agree! There is something strange going on here, and that's you." Mrs. Daniels's tone grew harsh. "You better stop this charade young lady, or you'll soon end up like the mother you claim to have!"

My anger increased. "It's no charade! Something strange is happening here, and I'm going to find out what it is!"

"Great. You do that!" Mrs. Daniels draped her right arm around Sue's shoulder and led her away from me, toward the stairs. "Do that and leave us alone!"

1294 words

More to come in this chapter