All the things I never told you.
Evelyn sinks her head into her pillows. Her back lays flat and her sulky, red eyes stay fixed on the ceiling above, as they have been for every night since she moved in.
The discolored walls and the shaky roof that have been her home for several weeks are nothing but a shell to her. Hollow and meaningless, just like how she feels at this very moment. At least the room had a door, even though it doesn't lock unless she blocks it with a chair. It has four connecting walls, although the paint is peeling off from every one of them and she is almost certain the squeaking sounds she hears on her insomnia-stricken nights come from the rats living in them. But walls and doors, however damaged, still make a room be called one. Evelyn doesn't know what makes her human anymore. She is sure the qualities that qualify and certify her existence as a person have been taken away from her. She no longer sees herself as a person, a good person that is.
She wakes up and picks up the recorder that has been watching her the whole night. With a deep breath in, she presses the big red button and starts to speak into her phone:
I have been planning this for a while. I still remember that day and I will never forget her face?
She stops, afraid, worried, or both, she just couldn't say another word. This is her fourteenth attempt at recording this message, each time getting harder and more frightening than the last. She had imagined how this day would go, more specifically how recording this message would go. Evelyn envisioned herself spilling out the truth - her truth - leaving no detail out and afterward serenading in thefreeing feeling of relief. A feeling she was certain comes with being a good person. With conviction, she rubs her palms on her thighs and dives in again. Afraid or worried, none of that mattered. In the darkness, she began:
I have no idea where I got the courage or the strength to say these things. But these are things that have been eating me up from the inside, feasting on my soul and my conscience. I hope they do the same to you or at the very least give you something to think about. I apologize if this is not what you expect if you even expected anything from me. I doubt that you did but here it goes anyway.
I still remember the last thing Rachel said to me that night. The night she died. Honestly, there isn't an hour that goes by without her voice creeping into my head. I used to enjoy listening to her read in her soft, sing-song voice but now that same voice haunts me.
Rachel said exactly fifteen words after her body was thrown across the street. Just fifteen words. I wasn't counting, but I've replayed that moment in my head so many times that I now know this saddening fact.
So, I counted. I wish I didn't. There are so many things that I regret. Things I wish I did and didn't do as you'll come to find out.
The first of my many regrets is, I was there. I had to see the innocence in her eyes disappear. As quickly as the speed of the bright yellow light shone on her face, the sweetness in her eyes turned to fear. It was there even if it was only a small fraction of the time. Her eyes widened and her face became pale, the fear transformedinto sadness then finally relief and she was gone.
Her lifeless body was plastered on the cold tar. Her legs twisted in one direction and both of her arms stretched out wide on her sides like she was being crucified. There was blood, so much blood. The thick red liquid poured out from her body like an open pipe. I didn't know so much blood existed within a single person.
It all happened very slowly and somehow quickly at the same time. I
was right there but I still couldn't wrap my brain around what had happened. I stood there like a statue waiting for my body to respond, to do something but I was frozen in shock and also disappointment. I know this is not the word you expected me to use but it is the most accurate. I could say that I was filled with some other emotion like sadness, guilt, or grief but I would be deceiving you and myself. All those feelings did fall upon me but rather later than sooner. Right there and then in my frozen body, the first thing I felt was disappointment. In myself, in Rachel, and most of all in you.
I bet in the very second the metal touched her skin; she didn't see her life flash before her eyes. I bet chills didn't run down her back when she heard the screeching of tires approaching her. But rather when the headlights blinded her sight, she smiled. Her twelve-year-old mind knew that she was taking her last breath. She smiled and said her last words. The last three of them were:
"Happy birthday, Evelyn."
She remembered my birthday and even I had forgotten. Oh yes, I lied about my name, my age, and where I came from. I wanted to tell you at some point butas time went by, I had lost track of who I was, and who I was becoming no longer resembled who I envisioned myself to be. Am I making sense? I feel like I'm not, so let me elaborate.
See, a year ago I didn't know what the word 'precocious' meant. I had lived all of my twenty years and I didn't even know such a word existed. Living with my aunt in a secluded part of the smallest town ever, guaranteed the probability of encountering such a word to be almost zero. I heard it for the first time when we met.
My aunt,Tanny and I lived alone with my best friends Sam and Chloe, the two best chickens in the entire world. Tanny ran a bakery where everybody in the town bought their bread from. And occasionally we sold some of the eggs that Chloe laid to keep up with expenses. I didn't love the idea very much if it were up to me, I would rather have starved than see Chloe's eggs get sold to a stranger but Tanny convinced me Chloe was happy about it so I agreed.
My real name is Evelyn but Tanny used to call me Chloe. Well, she used to call me sticky before that. Alluding to the fact that my wrists were as tiny as sticks which made it hard for me to knead the dough. Side note: kneading is not as easy as people make it look. I begged for weeks for a better name and she finally gave me the name Chloe. I didn't mind, anything is better than sticky really.
I never did feel like an Evelyn, or even look like an Evelyn. I mean you know what I look like. Or perhaps you've already forgotten. It is fine if you have,I don't blame you. I have the most forgettable face ever. With a lean figure, dark greasy hair, and tired eyes I look like just about any other house help you had, especially in the white overalls you made me wear every single day for the last year. And each morning when I looked in the mirror, I had to convince my eyes that the person in the reflection was truly me, that I was still the same person I was a year ago.
Tanny once said that you don't stop living when you stop breathing but you stop living once you stopped being alive. Of course, I didn't understand what that meant at the time. Besides Tanny was always saying stuff and honestly, it was hard to keep up with all that wisdom coming out of her small body. Oh, she was small and very short. She crouched down when she walked and I would always joke that it was because she carried all that wisdom on her shoulders, she would just smile and nod.
She was small but she had a big smile and large expressive eyes, it was very easy to know what she was feeling with just one look. And when she spoke, all you could do was listen. Her voice had that aged quality that takes over a room the moment she opens her mouth. And I would always look forward to her stories at the end of a long day. She would have a story for everything; the clouds, ants, and even the littlest things like a single drop of water. She had a new story every day and only repeated it whenever I asked. Of course, I never complained because they were just that good. Well, I did, only one time:
"Where did you learn allthese stories from, Tanny?" I asked on a Sunday after church service. We were in the kitchen making dinner.
She stopped stirring the big pot of soup, placed her hand on her waist, and smiled "The stories create themselves." She answered
"How?" I asked, still confused
She left the pot and sat next to me "Do you remember Steve from church?"
"Yes!" my eyes lit up in excitement "He makes all those lovely sounds on his ?his?"
"Piano." Tanny finished "The piano is made up of so many different keys that make up the lovely sounds you love so much and when you put those sounds together, they make songs that we can sing."
"I like the song we sang today." I said
"Yes, it was a really good song."
"So, the piano makes sounds and the sounds make songs." I nodded as the realization came to me "And when you put together different sounds you get a different song"
"Exactly" Tanny woke up, heading back to her boiling soup.
"But what does that have to do with your stories, Tanny?" I raised my voice slightly in frustration.
Tanny didn't say another word to me, not until I was already in bed ready to sleep and I had forgotten that I had asked a question.
"Life is the piano," she said as she covered me in a blanket. Her voice was soft and fragile, barely audible. I leaned forward to listen "And people are the players like Steve. We as players get to choose what kind of song to play, it all depends on what keys we select and in which order. Some songs may sound like others, while others may sound completely different but none of the songs are exactly the same. Some people like me get the privilege of meeting so many people that we get to hear so manystories every day. Some are sad and some are happy stories. But they are all stories and they make us feel something just like songs do. You may not like it, but that does not make it any less of a story."
She woke up from my side with no indication she was done or perhaps I wasn't ready for her to be. I wanted her to tell me more. The whole time she spoke, I don't think I even breathed. I can still remember how the lines on her face moved and how her voice remained in the same volume never rising even the slightest bit higher or lower.
She was gone a week later. Without a word or even a goodbye. She left me on a Sunday too, the holiest day of the week. At least she didn't need a burial, she was consumed in the flames.
I was only away for half an hour. That's all it takes to lose your entire world. She asked me to get some maple syrup from the grocery store because she was in the mood for some pancakes. She was fifty-eight, only halfway through her life, she should've been perfectly fine. It wasn't the first time she was home alone.
I returned from the store to find our house in flames and a crowd of spectators. The authorities said she died from smoke inhalation before the fire got to her so she didn't feel any pain. I guess that was their way of consoling me. That might have worked, I'm not sure. Everything that happened afterward I still can't remember properly.
I do remember bits and pieces here and there. I remember the town's people bringing me food that I had nowhere to store and saying things like "I'm very sorry for your loss" every fiveminutes. I remember the cold nights I spent on the church floor. I remember the tears that crossed my cheeks every one of those nights.
If anyone was going to die, it shouldn't be on a Sunday, don't you agree? I doubt you have any idea about religion. You never went to church. You didn't even say the grace during dinner. What am I even talking about? You rarely had dinners and breakfast was only on special occasions when you felt like it. Your giant Maplewood dinner table was more of a display piece than a functional asset in your house. I say house not home because your estate was nothing resembling a home. It was just an overpriced museum with dozens of servants you pay to maintain it. I'm not quite sure if it's sad or funny that you were never around to enjoy any of it. It is sad that the one day you were around was the day I walked in front of your house. Otherwise, Rachel would've never met and she would still be around.
It had already been weeks since Tanny died. How many weeks exactly, I can't say. I had run out of the sympathy food and the church floors were somehow getting colder by the night. I needed to find someplace to go. So, I decided to roam the streets, just walking in hopes that I might find anything. My search brought me to your street.
I stopped for a second to admire your house, I wondered if someone lived in there. It seemed like a fortress at first glance. I looked through the metal gates that were gold coated and had the words: "Welcome to the Addams" melded into the bars. Through your golden gates, I followed the neatly paved driveway to the full gardensof greenery. In the garden stood Rachel. She was just a little girl to me then but something about her made me stop and stare. Maybe it was the way she carefully picked up flowers. She knelt and whispered to the petals as if she were asking for permission. She would wait for a second or two, then only will she take the flower. She did this with each one. Some she spoke to longer than others.
I stood watching her for a while and for that amount of time, I forgot about Tanny. It was the only time I didn't think about her or longed for her presence in weeks. I don't feel proud saying this but it is the truth. I forgot that I hadn't eaten anything in hours or that I had no idea what was going to become of me. I just stood in front of your gate watching a little girl pick flowers. This is sounding weirder the more I think about it.
As I was about to walk away and head back into the real world because I was sure this part of my journey was a hallucination, the golden gates opened. Rachel runs out and into my arms. You were chasing after her. She held onto my dress as you got closer. You stopped moving once you saw me. My tired eyes met yours. I felt ashamed and the look of disgust on your face didn't help either.
You tried to hide it with a smile but I saw it. I knew I was dirty and smelly. Of course, I hadn't slept for days nor had I had the chance to eat or shower.
"Rachel, come here now" you yelled but she held on tighter to my dress. She smelled like a lollipop. "I am not joking.Let go of the lady and let's go inside".
Rachel didn't move. You took a step forward. It was now that I noticed your silk robe and silver slippers. I also noticed a glass half-filled with whiskey. You took a sip from your glass.
"Tell me that I'm precocious." Rachel demanded
"I already said it, honey"
"I want you to say it like you mean it." She looked up at me "You think I'm precocious right?" I nodded having no idea what that meant.
Rachel looked at you "Ha, even this lady thinks I'm precocious."
You sighed "Rachel, stop this now, and let's go."
"Mom, I will only go in if she comes with me"
"no." your eyes widened
I released Rachel's hand from my dress but she doesn't go to you, instead, she folded her arms and found a seat on a clay pot close by.
"Honey, darling," you said, your voice bright and cheerful now "This lady has somewhere to go, she can't come in." you took a step forward almost tripping.
You gulped the last bit of whiskey, and just as sudden as a blink, you smashed the glass onto the hard ground. You wobbled your way to Rachel's side and picked her like a piece of paper.
"Let me go, let me go" She fought in your arms, throwing her legs and arms about, screaming at the top of her lungs. She wiggled her way out of your grasp somehow and made it to the ground. With her back on the floor and her eyes looking up at you, she watched you walk back into the house while you muttered something under your breath and then shut the gates behind you.
I run to Rachel and helped her up.
"She will come back for me, right?" she said with a fractured smile and watery eyes
"of course," I said in anattempt to console her.
"Can you stay?" she asked. Her voice was different, it wasn't the stubborn child looking at me anymore but now she had the face of a lost girl. She was sitting in front of her own home yet more lost than I was. I decided to stay. I couldn't leave her. Not when I knew what loneliness felt like.
It was then that I asked what precocious meant. She explained it to me. She started by telling me about her fight with her friend who said she was not special at all. But her teacher told her she was a precocious little child. All she wanted was for you to tell her that too.
Hours went by and we talked about a lot. It took me long to realize this but remember when I told you she made me forget Tanny, I now realize that she didn't make me forget her, rather, Rachel reminds me of her. Rachel had the same endearing quality about her that Tanny had. While I listened to her never-ending stories which she told in a very fashionable manner, with hand gestures and all, I never took my eyes off her for even a second.
Later, a black car drove into sight and your husband stepped out. He was disturbed that Rachel was sitting outside alone with a stranger. She explained what happened earlier and said that I was a friend. I noticed his fists clench up at his side but his facial expressions did not change. He thanked me for keeping her company and held her hand to go in.
She whispered something into his ears and he turned to ask me if I have a place to stay. I looked to the floor embarrassed. He told me to come in. When he asked for myname, with only a bit of hesitation I looked him in the eye and said, "Chloe, my name is Chloe."
And just like that, I was living in your house. I did my best not to be noticed. I followed all your rules. Especially the one you repeated countless times; 'don't talk to any of the family directly.' Not you or your husband and not Rachel. I can't say that I didn't try to follow them to the letter. I did all the chores you set aside for me - washing, wiping, folding, and vacuuming - every day for eleven months. I made sure I stayed in my room, hidden away from you people until morning came and I would wake up and do it all over again. It was only months later before I ever saw Rachel again.
That was a normal Tuesday, I remember because I only take Fluffy for walks on Tuesdays. I have no idea why you insisted different people take him out on different days but Fluffy did not like me at all. On this Tuesday he was even more stubborn and the walk turned into a full-body workout.
I quickly continued my rounds when I got back. It was already past four o'clock and I still had to clean Rachel's room, wipe the windows and finish the laundry I began earlier. Because Fluffy wouldn't listen to me, I stayed past my schedule, only ten minutes after five.
I was almost done folding the clothes in Rachel's room when I heard the front door open and shut with a loud bang. I heard her frantic steps race up the stairs. She was heading towards me. I quickly put the clothes in the wardrobe, unfolded - I remember you scolded me for that the next day - and squeezed myselfinside with the clothes. I listened to her toss her bag across the room and throw her shoes onto the bed. She dropped to the floor and I heard her sobbing.
It breaks my heart now that I revisit that day. I was scared. My fingers were shaking and my heart was pulsing, hiding in Rachel's closet. Just because you had warned me not to talk to her or even look in her direction. Just because I didn't want to disobey you so you don't have a reason to send me away, so I stayed and watched Rachel cry. She cried for several minutes without pausing. And after she was done and left the room, I too stealthily crept out of the closet and left through the backdoor.
I didn't sleep that night. I couldn't get her crying out of my head. It kept ringing in my ears like church bells, reminding me of Tanny and what she said to me about the piano. My life up to that point had been a compilation of tunes that I have not liked and I was beginning to hate the song that came from it. I knew Tanny wouldn't like it too. I decided to change it.
The next day I stayed past my time on purpose. I waited for Rachel to get home from school and then I went up to her. I didn't know what I was going to say or do, I just knew I had to do something, anything that would rewrite my song into a melody I at least could tolerate.
Like the day before, she dropped her bag in her room and her shoes but she didn't cry. She went to the kitchen. I was standing there when she arrived. I'm not sure if she didn't see me or pretendednot to, but she walked right past me toward your China set.
"Hi, Rachel. It's me, Chloe, do you remember me?" I said, clutching to a napkin
She didn't respond. She just took a stool and began to climb the shelf.
"Do you need any something I can get it for you?" I approached her
"Leave me alone. Don't touch me." She pushed me away with her elbow.
"Huh?" I was confused
"Go away." She warned, "My mom said I shouldn't be talking to you."
"I'm just trying to help you."
"I don't need your help. Go clean or something."
I was stunned. Where was the nice girl I met on that day? This wasn't her. I said to myself
Rachel proceeded to climb the stool, her feet were barely on the stool, and with one wrong move, she would have fallen and broken a bone. That wasn't the frightening part. What upset me the most was that the object she was reaching for was a bottle of whiskey. Your whiskey. I've seen how you get whenever you drink that stuff. You get angrier than normal and you scream at everyone. I didn't want that for Rachel. So, without a second to think, I quickly went over to her and carried her off the stool.
"What are you doing?" she yelled
"Don't yell at me." I yelled back "Do you know what that is?"
"Yes, it's my mom's whisky." She said without any hesitation and I was left mouth open "My mom and dad usually take it when they are feeling bad and I want some too"
"Trust me whatever it is. That drink will not make you feel better" I knelt to get to her height "You have to believe me, okay."
"But I want it," she said in a baby-like voice, throwing her arms around.
"Uhm, why don't we try something else and ifit doesn't work then I'll get you the whiskey myself." I don't know why I said this
"You promise?" she calmed down
"Yes," I said, "do you like ice cream?"
She rolled her eyes and nodded. "I guess"
I went ahead and took out the ice cream from the fridge. She moved around to climb up the stool. I was about to tell her not to but she cut me off
"Don't worry, I'm only sitting this time" she said
This made me laugh. I must say that you have - had a funny child. I don't know if she gets her peculiar sense of humor from you or her father because I have hardly any real conversations with any of you.
To be clear I don't blame either of you for what happened. It must be extremely difficult juggling your career and parenthood. The giant house, several cars, impressive careers, a successful marriage, and a beautiful daughter. I have never lived the life that you live, I only have a view from the outside so I can't judge. But it was frightening how much Rachel knew about alcohol and I don't even want to think about what she does when she's alone. Yeah, Rachel has been spending the afternoons alone. I was shocked to find out too. She told me that Wendy, the babysitter you hired, hardly ever comes around and arrives late on the days she chooses to show up.
"Why did you want to get that drink?" I asked her once she had her ice cream.
"Stop calling it 'that drink'." She swallows a spoonful "I'm not a kid and I already told you that I know it's my mom's whisky so you don't have to pretend like I don't know"
"Okay, why did you want the whisky?"
"Olivia says that I have an ugly face and thatmy hair is not real hair." She scoops another big spoon
"What! Why would she say that?"
"Don't act dumb!" Rachel aggressively points the spoon in my face "Everyone in my class looks prettier than me. All the girls have nice long hair. My mom has beautiful blond hair but I have this ugly skin and bad curly hair. Even you have better hair."
"Have you seen me? That's not true" I shook, my head and she looked at me like I had said a bad joke. "What I mean is that you are beautiful, with your curly hair and dark skin.
"I know what you're doing. You're trying to forfeit your promise" she chuckled
"No. I'm telling you the truth. You got your skin and hair from your father. They make up who you are."
Rachel simply nodded
I leaned closer "A special someone told me that we should never forget who we are."
At this point listening, I'm sure you might be already getting upset about what I had done. I broke all the rules and now I'm telling her about Tanny. You must be furious right now I know. I couldn't help it.
Rachel doesn't look up from her bowl as I spoke
"She said that these parts of us make up our story, like a movie. You like movies, right?
"I think movies are a little overrated."
"What do you mean overrated? Your mother makes movies for a living"
"Exactly." She puts the spoon in the tub and places it behind her "What I mean is why spend hours learning about people who don't exist? It makes no sense
"Err?" My brain went numb
"See, you have no answer" she smiled.
"Some movies are biographies; those tell stories about real people. Is that also overrated?"
"Mhmmm, those movies almost always change the stories to fit the general audience, and to that I saybullshit - I mean nonsense. I would rather read the books than watch any of those movies. #books are better"
"So, you like books?" I asked excitedly
"I used to but these days it's hard to find a good book anymore."
"Well, how about I tell you a story."
She shrugged "I am very hard to impress so good luck"
I go ahead and tell her one of my favorites of Tanny's stories. It was a fairy tale about giants and ghosts. Rachel sat there listening and she didn't interrupt me even once. I tried my best to tell it the way Tanny did.
"Is that it?" she asked when I was done.
"Yes"
"That's not fair. What happened to the ghost? Did he make it?"
"I guess we'll never know because that is how it ends."
"I think the ghost ends up with the giant."
"Like I said we'll never know"
I watched her as she got angrier. That was my exact reaction when Tanny told me that story. I never understood why it had no conclusion. I guess that was the reason it was my favorite. Because I could make infinite endings to the story.
We spent an hour rewriting the end of the story. We would have taken longer if you hadn't returned. I heard you arrive and I scrambled to leave. I turn to Rachel to tell her not to tell you. She nodded and said, "Don't worry I won't tell my mom".
From that day we hang out on most afternoons when Wendy didn't show up. Sometimes she would come up to my room at night and spend the night when the house felt too big. We would tell each other stories and occasionally play some games. Rachel had a great sense of humor and she was also smart and talented too. She has won almost all the Scrabblegames we played together and by almost, I mean all of them. She knew words that I didn't even know existed. She tells me that it is because she does these word puzzles in her school magazine and even encouraged me to try one myself. I did and collecting magazines became another one of the things we did together that you didn't know about. Now when I see a magazine, any magazine at all, I just freeze and can't bring myself to open it because that would just remind me of her.
All I am saying is Rachel was a great kid. I just get excited when I talk about her. Not that I've been going around telling people about her. Honestly, it has been tempting. I've just not seen a child this confident and smart and talented before. Let's not forget her laugh, it is so contagious. I grew up around a lot of kids and none of them were anything like Rachel. The children I came across always seem in a hurry. In a hurry to grow up and figure out who they were. I am also guilty of this. Everything I did was to get to the next thing, it can be very exhausting. But then I meet this girl who seemed to know who she was at a very young age; she didn't dream of the future. I used to envy this about her, her ability to get stuck in the present and bravely embrace who she was entirely. I had no idea that she hated the person she was.
Evelyn wipes her tears falling down both cheeks. She had been weeping throughout the entire recording. She straightens herself and goes on with the rest.
That night it all ended began like any other but changed when you arrived.
Racheland I started rounds of Scrabble games. She had already won the first two and I was trying to win this round.
"This is definitely not a word," I said pointing to the letters Rachel placed on the Scrabble board.
"P-h-l-o-e-m, that's a word. You can check the dictionary if you want to" she laughed which made me laugh.
"Fine. Just know that I'm letting you win because I'm nice"
"Yeah, right" she scoffed
"It's a strategy I use so when you let your guard down then I strike" I place the letters e-a-t under the m.
"That seems to be working so far, good job, I didn't even notice"
We were both laughing when you walked in. You had a smile on your face but it disappeared the moment you and I made eye contact. I would have left long before you arrived but Rachel told me you weren't coming home. And I believed her. She run to hug you both but your eyes were still on me. I, embarrassed as though my most secret of secrets had been leaked to the public, bowed and headed for the door. But then Rachel called "Evelyn don't go. Stay for dinner"
Your eyes shifted from me to your daughter, you looked as if she had said the worst thing possible. I watched your eyebrows crease and your eyes darken. You conjured up a smile. "Rachel, she must leave it is already late." you said
"Dad, let Evelyn stay for diner." Rachel went over to her father and held his hand "Please." She begged
He looked at me then at you for several seconds before saying "Uhm, I guess you can stay. It's not very late anyway"
"Thank you, thank you, Daddy," she hopped over to me "let's finish the game then."
I couldn't pay attention to the game after that. My mind wasshifting from place to place. Thinking of what to say so I can leave. I was wondering what was going through your mind at the time if you were thinking of firing me. If you were going to punish Rachel for mingling with me. I didn't want that at all. I didn't know it at that time but I had grown so fond of Rachel. She had become like a little sister I never had and I didn't know I needed. Whenever she is happy, I too became happy. I know this may sound selfish but if being selfish means I got to her sweet smile then I guess that was why I stayed. Not because I was being disrespectful or arrogant like you might have thought.
I was frightened.
When I sat at the table, I couldn't sit comfortably in my chair. I only sat on the edge ready to jump up as soon as possible. Even for a simple dinner, you looked very pretty and all glammed up. I know you certainly were not trying to impress me so this must have been normal for you.
"Mom, are you going to stay for my talent show next Thursday?" Rachel asked
"No dear," you rubbed her back "your father and I are only staying till the weekend"
"But Mom, Dad, you promised" she cried
"Rachel, we talked about it. Now eat your food before it gets cold"
"You never - " Rachel began but you cut her off
"Rachel, not here. We'll talk about it but not here."
The room was silent for a while until you spoke, again. "So how was your day, Betty?" you asked
I looked up. I wasn't even surprised you didn't know my name. You never spoke to me and when you did you always called me by the wrong name, Stephanie, Susan, orBetty like that time.
"Her name is Evelyn" Rachel corrected
"It was?it was okay" I stammered
"And you like playing Scrabble? Are you any good?" your husband asked. I appreciated the effort to lighten things up but I was too tense for any rescuing.
"No," Rachel said still with her mouth full. You gave her a look and she swallowed before saying her next words "No, Evelyn is still a beginner."
You didn't say anything, just smiled.
"Do you let her call you by your first name?" you said "Rachel can be stubborn sometimes if you don't mi - "
"Oh no, it's totally fine."
"Yeah, she doesn't mind" Rachel jumps in
"Oh really. Why is that?" you asked
"It's nothing. I just don't see the difference" I said
"Right." You dropped your cutlery and looked me right in the eye "Tell me, what do you want?" you demanded
"Mom!" Rachel bellowed
"Tess," your husband said
"Don't worry you won't get fired if you tell me. Is it money you want?"
"Mom, that is not true. She's just my friend."
"Rachel, stay out of this"
"I don't want anything." I said rather quietly but I was freaking out on the inside.
"Is that so, then why are you here? Scrabbling and laughing together. That is not the job we pay you to do. So, say it do you want a raise?"
"Dad, are you going to sit and let Mom talk to my friend like that?" Rachel is yelling by now but your attention doesn't leave me.
"I'm sorry, this won't happen again." I said, my eyes fixed on the ground
"Ugh, I can't believe you Mom" Rachel hits her hand on the table and gets up "You guys are so self-centered and incapable of seeing anything in the world apart from yourselves. You think everyone wants your money. Well, here's a reality check, not everybody is out to get you.Not everything is about you."
She storms out of the dining room leaving the three of us too shocked to say anything. I bet you still had more to say though but I didn't let you.
"I'm sorry for the inconvenience I caused." I said, "If you don't want me to work here anymore, I will understand." I walked out of the front door without looking back. Even after you shouted the words:
"You are fired"
I still didn't look back. I went to my room and I packed my things. It wasn't a lot so I didn't take long. I thought of leaving without saying goodbye to Rachel but I couldn't so I made a U-turn to your front door and knocked. Your husband opened the door for me.
"Ah Evelyn, I was just about to send for you" he looked at the bag in my right hand and sneered "Tess didn't mean what she said. You're not fired of course. She was just angry."
I turned to you, you were seated in the living room with a glass of whisky in your hand, you turned to your husband then you smiled and nodded. You had the type of smile that reversed everything and made a person feel warm. And I trusted it.
You asked me to sit next to you and I did. I refused to sip your drink and you gulped it down in one go. Your husband turned his back to us to answer a call.
"Again, I am sorry for what happened." I said sincerely
You waved your hand at me "I had an awful day at work and I was just surprised. That's all."
Your husband said he had some business to attend to and he left. You were silent as the engine roared outside and the gates opened. After the car left thecompound. You poured yourself another glass and sat up in your chair.
"You didn't answer my question earlier." You said as you took a sip
"Your question?" I asked, confusion drawn across my face
"Ugh," you grunted "don't act all innocent. I've seen your type before. You pretend to be interested in my child and play this innocent character. But you want something, right, so come out with it already. What do you want?"
"I told you I don't want anything." I said
You woke up shaking your head vigorously "Is it a job? Do you want to be part of my new film? That should be it." you tapped your chin
"What?"
"Do you want cash? I can give you cash"
"No, I don't - "
"Is it Bob? He sent you right? He sent you to come and destroy me. I've seen you snooping around"
"No!" I got up now, disgusted at the things you were insinuating "I would never do that. I don't know anyone named Bob"
"Don't lie to me!" you yelled, pointing a stern finger at me
Mortified, I sat back down. I felt every single strand of hair on my arm rise. I stared as you descended from an ultimate high to a low. As if you were a shapeshifter, transforming from a beast into an angel - an injured angel. You approached me with teary yet alarming eyes and whispered "Rachel, my dear Rachel is a precious little girl."
"I know" I agreed
"She is smart but she is also very fragile. And I know you are not right for her. She needs someone? better"
I forced a smile, even though you had turned your back on me. I felt you counting down in your mind until I leave. I didn't want to leave but I couldn't stay either. I knew one way or another you would havefound another way to get rid of me. So, I agreed with you. I wrote a note that I was sure you never intended to pass on to Rachel and placed it on the table next to you. I took my already-packed bag and walked out the front door, again. This time when I walked out the door, I walked out the gates too, the golden gates.
I hung my bag across my shoulders and started my journey, with no destination in mind, but this time I had a little money. I had been saving up because I knew this day would arrive sooner or later.
I hadn't even walked past your street when I heard Rachel's voice calling from behind.
'Evelyn!"
I turned to find her running towards me with a bag in her hand.
"What are you doing? Go back home." I said
"I want to come with you." She was breathless from the run but also from her vivid excitement "I heard you and my mom talking and I quickly packed a bag for myself."
"No, you can't come with me. I don't even know where I'm going"
"It doesn't matter. I have money so we can go anywhere. We have to hurry before she notices." she laughs
The idea was tempting, I won't deny that but my mind was still on what you had said: "She needs someone better". Even if we had money now, we were going to run out, and then what next. I have no qualifications whatsoever. This was never going to work. But then I looked at her and she looked happy, happier than I've ever seen her, and I didn't want to destroy that.
So, the plan was I would go along with her idea and call you when we get to a gas station or anywhere I can get accessto a phone. I can agree that wasn't the best plan but it was the only one I had at the time.
She was so happy talking about the constellations in the sky and some other things I didn't hear because I was focused on my plan. She was twirling around in her little dress. Hopping up and down as though there was music playing that only she could hear. All I could hear was the beating of my heart against my chest.
As we've both said Rachel is smart. It didn't take her long to figure out my plan. I'm sure she noticed my sudden edginess because when we got closer to the station, she stopped walking.
"You're not taking me with you, are you?" she asked sullenly like a switch was flicked and the vibrant girl was gone.
"I just want to get some snacks" I tried to fake it for a little longer but my face gave it away.
We stood right under a streetlight so she could see all my fault lines and fading smiles. And I could see her disappointed eyes.
"You don't want me." Rachel drops her bag to the ground
"No, it's not that." I said
"Nobody wants me" She takes a step back from the pavement and then another step.
"Rachel, don't walk off the pavement."
She kept going
"Where are you going?" I asked, I wasn't thinking about a car - honestly, I wasn't thinking at all. It had been a long night and I was too tired to think. And Rachel wasn't helping either.
"I knew it." she said barely audible
"Knew what?"
I heard the engine's rumble first, then I saw the lights and then I heard the tires screeching.
"Get out of the way" I screamed
"I want to go." she said quietly
"Okay you can come with me just get out of the way"I pleaded
The engines rumbled, the tires screeched and the lights got brighter.
She smiled and said "My song ends here but I'm okay. I won't have to wake up anymore." Her last step away "Happy birthday, Evelyn"
Before I could say anything, the car came at full speed and hits her to the ground. I stared at her; my mouth wide open. I turned to look past the blinding lights, through the windscreen and there you were. I couldn't make out the expression on your face but I recognized your teary yet alarming eyes. You didn't even get out of the car or say a word, you just drove away, as rowdy as you drove into your daughter.
I run to Rachel's body, sobbing. I tried to get her to wake up - I called her name, slapped her face, shook her body - but none of that worked. I felt her skin get colder as the seconds passed. It was a while before I called the ambulance or the police. Before that my brain was still struggling to put together the events of the night, I was still battling to accept that all of this happened.
To accept that you killed Rachel and I stood there watching.
I didn't have to tell the police much because they had already arrested you for drunk driving somewhere else and when I described the car, the officer already knew who I was talking about.
I have spent the majority of this morning trying to record this, you needed to know all of this before I show up in court next month. You may or may not know this already but I am among the list of witnesses.
I wanted you to hear this from me first. Visiting you in jail was not an option, not because I'm afraid ofyou but because I'm afraid of what that'll do to me. It was not entirely your fault. Most of it was your fault and I will never be able to forgive you for any of it but now that you've heard this maybe you can see it from another view.
I have no idea where you were going that night or if Rachel knew it was you behind the wheel or if she just took the first opportunity that came her way. And that happened to be you.
Do I blame you? Absolutely. But I also blame myself.
She came to my room one night with an unexpected question:
"Why do we have to wake up every day, Evelyn?"
It was one of those weeks when you and your husband went away for business or something related and left Rachel at home. It was late and I was already half asleep when I heard the door slide open. Wendy was still around when I left the main house. I wasn't expecting her in my room so when she asked me this, I assumed it was one of her general questions, so I said
"I don't know. People just wake up." I answered with my eyes still closed
She just stayed silent and I heard her tiny footsteps coming to the bed
"So, what happened this time?" I asked once she was seated next to me on the bed "A bad dream?"
"But Tanny never woke up again." she said
Every time she asked about tan, I would say that she fell into a deep sleep and never woke up again. I still didn't have it in me to talk about the fire that much. And I snapped
"Rachel, I told you I don't want to talk about Tanny"
"But I want to know - "
"You don't have to know everything" I yelledand slammed my fist into the pillows.
I looked at her and she was startled. Her face was frozen in fear and her fingers were shivering.
"I'm sorry" I tried to reach her fingers to make them stop but she pulled them away.
"Let's sleep." She said and never spoke about Tanny again. And I never asked.
How could I when all I wanted was to forget everything about that day? I wanted to lock up every memory of the fire into a box and throw it far away. But now all I can think about is, what if I had opened up the box? What if I had released all of those memories? Maybe Rachel would still be here. Maybe she wouldn't have jumped in front of your car seeking the answers I may or may not have been able to give her. I can never know but I should have tried. We should have tried.
Now that I have said all that I wanted to say, I have no idea what comes next. Not that I expected some magical transformation, though I wouldn't mind either, but there's one last thing I want to say. Rachel was wrong. Her song didn't end that night.
Evelyn stops the recording. There is nothing more left to say. She lays back on her side as she lets the moment settle in. The relief she expected was not as riveting as she had hoped but it was there. Subtle and soft like a flower petal on her skin, like a sweet lullaby playing in the distance. She lays on her back and wilfully listens as it brings her to sleep.
Evelyn sinks her head into her pillows. Her back lays flat and her sulky, red eyes stay fixed on the ceiling above, as they have been for every night since she moved in.
The discolored walls and the shaky roof that have been her home for several weeks are nothing but a shell to her. Hollow and meaningless, just like how she feels at this very moment. At least the room had a door, even though it doesn't lock unless she blocks it with a chair. It has four connecting walls, although the paint is peeling off from every one of them and she is almost certain the squeaking sounds she hears on her insomnia-stricken nights come from the rats living in them. But walls and doors, however damaged, still make a room be called one. Evelyn doesn't know what makes her human anymore. She is sure the qualities that qualify and certify her existence as a person have been taken away from her. She no longer sees herself as a person, a good person that is.
She wakes up and picks up the recorder that has been watching her the whole night. With a deep breath in, she presses the big red button and starts to speak into her phone:
I have been planning this for a while. I still remember that day and I will never forget her face?
She stops, afraid, worried, or both, she just couldn't say another word. This is her fourteenth attempt at recording this message, each time getting harder and more frightening than the last. She had imagined how this day would go, more specifically how recording this message would go. Evelyn envisioned herself spilling out the truth - her truth - leaving no detail out and afterward serenading in thefreeing feeling of relief. A feeling she was certain comes with being a good person. With conviction, she rubs her palms on her thighs and dives in again. Afraid or worried, none of that mattered. In the darkness, she began:
I have no idea where I got the courage or the strength to say these things. But these are things that have been eating me up from the inside, feasting on my soul and my conscience. I hope they do the same to you or at the very least give you something to think about. I apologize if this is not what you expect if you even expected anything from me. I doubt that you did but here it goes anyway.
I still remember the last thing Rachel said to me that night. The night she died. Honestly, there isn't an hour that goes by without her voice creeping into my head. I used to enjoy listening to her read in her soft, sing-song voice but now that same voice haunts me.
Rachel said exactly fifteen words after her body was thrown across the street. Just fifteen words. I wasn't counting, but I've replayed that moment in my head so many times that I now know this saddening fact.
So, I counted. I wish I didn't. There are so many things that I regret. Things I wish I did and didn't do as you'll come to find out.
The first of my many regrets is, I was there. I had to see the innocence in her eyes disappear. As quickly as the speed of the bright yellow light shone on her face, the sweetness in her eyes turned to fear. It was there even if it was only a small fraction of the time. Her eyes widened and her face became pale, the fear transformedinto sadness then finally relief and she was gone.
Her lifeless body was plastered on the cold tar. Her legs twisted in one direction and both of her arms stretched out wide on her sides like she was being crucified. There was blood, so much blood. The thick red liquid poured out from her body like an open pipe. I didn't know so much blood existed within a single person.
It all happened very slowly and somehow quickly at the same time. I
was right there but I still couldn't wrap my brain around what had happened. I stood there like a statue waiting for my body to respond, to do something but I was frozen in shock and also disappointment. I know this is not the word you expected me to use but it is the most accurate. I could say that I was filled with some other emotion like sadness, guilt, or grief but I would be deceiving you and myself. All those feelings did fall upon me but rather later than sooner. Right there and then in my frozen body, the first thing I felt was disappointment. In myself, in Rachel, and most of all in you.
I bet in the very second the metal touched her skin; she didn't see her life flash before her eyes. I bet chills didn't run down her back when she heard the screeching of tires approaching her. But rather when the headlights blinded her sight, she smiled. Her twelve-year-old mind knew that she was taking her last breath. She smiled and said her last words. The last three of them were:
"Happy birthday, Evelyn."
She remembered my birthday and even I had forgotten. Oh yes, I lied about my name, my age, and where I came from. I wanted to tell you at some point butas time went by, I had lost track of who I was, and who I was becoming no longer resembled who I envisioned myself to be. Am I making sense? I feel like I'm not, so let me elaborate.
See, a year ago I didn't know what the word 'precocious' meant. I had lived all of my twenty years and I didn't even know such a word existed. Living with my aunt in a secluded part of the smallest town ever, guaranteed the probability of encountering such a word to be almost zero. I heard it for the first time when we met.
My aunt,Tanny and I lived alone with my best friends Sam and Chloe, the two best chickens in the entire world. Tanny ran a bakery where everybody in the town bought their bread from. And occasionally we sold some of the eggs that Chloe laid to keep up with expenses. I didn't love the idea very much if it were up to me, I would rather have starved than see Chloe's eggs get sold to a stranger but Tanny convinced me Chloe was happy about it so I agreed.
My real name is Evelyn but Tanny used to call me Chloe. Well, she used to call me sticky before that. Alluding to the fact that my wrists were as tiny as sticks which made it hard for me to knead the dough. Side note: kneading is not as easy as people make it look. I begged for weeks for a better name and she finally gave me the name Chloe. I didn't mind, anything is better than sticky really.
I never did feel like an Evelyn, or even look like an Evelyn. I mean you know what I look like. Or perhaps you've already forgotten. It is fine if you have,I don't blame you. I have the most forgettable face ever. With a lean figure, dark greasy hair, and tired eyes I look like just about any other house help you had, especially in the white overalls you made me wear every single day for the last year. And each morning when I looked in the mirror, I had to convince my eyes that the person in the reflection was truly me, that I was still the same person I was a year ago.
Tanny once said that you don't stop living when you stop breathing but you stop living once you stopped being alive. Of course, I didn't understand what that meant at the time. Besides Tanny was always saying stuff and honestly, it was hard to keep up with all that wisdom coming out of her small body. Oh, she was small and very short. She crouched down when she walked and I would always joke that it was because she carried all that wisdom on her shoulders, she would just smile and nod.
She was small but she had a big smile and large expressive eyes, it was very easy to know what she was feeling with just one look. And when she spoke, all you could do was listen. Her voice had that aged quality that takes over a room the moment she opens her mouth. And I would always look forward to her stories at the end of a long day. She would have a story for everything; the clouds, ants, and even the littlest things like a single drop of water. She had a new story every day and only repeated it whenever I asked. Of course, I never complained because they were just that good. Well, I did, only one time:
"Where did you learn allthese stories from, Tanny?" I asked on a Sunday after church service. We were in the kitchen making dinner.
She stopped stirring the big pot of soup, placed her hand on her waist, and smiled "The stories create themselves." She answered
"How?" I asked, still confused
She left the pot and sat next to me "Do you remember Steve from church?"
"Yes!" my eyes lit up in excitement "He makes all those lovely sounds on his ?his?"
"Piano." Tanny finished "The piano is made up of so many different keys that make up the lovely sounds you love so much and when you put those sounds together, they make songs that we can sing."
"I like the song we sang today." I said
"Yes, it was a really good song."
"So, the piano makes sounds and the sounds make songs." I nodded as the realization came to me "And when you put together different sounds you get a different song"
"Exactly" Tanny woke up, heading back to her boiling soup.
"But what does that have to do with your stories, Tanny?" I raised my voice slightly in frustration.
Tanny didn't say another word to me, not until I was already in bed ready to sleep and I had forgotten that I had asked a question.
"Life is the piano," she said as she covered me in a blanket. Her voice was soft and fragile, barely audible. I leaned forward to listen "And people are the players like Steve. We as players get to choose what kind of song to play, it all depends on what keys we select and in which order. Some songs may sound like others, while others may sound completely different but none of the songs are exactly the same. Some people like me get the privilege of meeting so many people that we get to hear so manystories every day. Some are sad and some are happy stories. But they are all stories and they make us feel something just like songs do. You may not like it, but that does not make it any less of a story."
She woke up from my side with no indication she was done or perhaps I wasn't ready for her to be. I wanted her to tell me more. The whole time she spoke, I don't think I even breathed. I can still remember how the lines on her face moved and how her voice remained in the same volume never rising even the slightest bit higher or lower.
She was gone a week later. Without a word or even a goodbye. She left me on a Sunday too, the holiest day of the week. At least she didn't need a burial, she was consumed in the flames.
I was only away for half an hour. That's all it takes to lose your entire world. She asked me to get some maple syrup from the grocery store because she was in the mood for some pancakes. She was fifty-eight, only halfway through her life, she should've been perfectly fine. It wasn't the first time she was home alone.
I returned from the store to find our house in flames and a crowd of spectators. The authorities said she died from smoke inhalation before the fire got to her so she didn't feel any pain. I guess that was their way of consoling me. That might have worked, I'm not sure. Everything that happened afterward I still can't remember properly.
I do remember bits and pieces here and there. I remember the town's people bringing me food that I had nowhere to store and saying things like "I'm very sorry for your loss" every fiveminutes. I remember the cold nights I spent on the church floor. I remember the tears that crossed my cheeks every one of those nights.
If anyone was going to die, it shouldn't be on a Sunday, don't you agree? I doubt you have any idea about religion. You never went to church. You didn't even say the grace during dinner. What am I even talking about? You rarely had dinners and breakfast was only on special occasions when you felt like it. Your giant Maplewood dinner table was more of a display piece than a functional asset in your house. I say house not home because your estate was nothing resembling a home. It was just an overpriced museum with dozens of servants you pay to maintain it. I'm not quite sure if it's sad or funny that you were never around to enjoy any of it. It is sad that the one day you were around was the day I walked in front of your house. Otherwise, Rachel would've never met and she would still be around.
It had already been weeks since Tanny died. How many weeks exactly, I can't say. I had run out of the sympathy food and the church floors were somehow getting colder by the night. I needed to find someplace to go. So, I decided to roam the streets, just walking in hopes that I might find anything. My search brought me to your street.
I stopped for a second to admire your house, I wondered if someone lived in there. It seemed like a fortress at first glance. I looked through the metal gates that were gold coated and had the words: "Welcome to the Addams" melded into the bars. Through your golden gates, I followed the neatly paved driveway to the full gardensof greenery. In the garden stood Rachel. She was just a little girl to me then but something about her made me stop and stare. Maybe it was the way she carefully picked up flowers. She knelt and whispered to the petals as if she were asking for permission. She would wait for a second or two, then only will she take the flower. She did this with each one. Some she spoke to longer than others.
I stood watching her for a while and for that amount of time, I forgot about Tanny. It was the only time I didn't think about her or longed for her presence in weeks. I don't feel proud saying this but it is the truth. I forgot that I hadn't eaten anything in hours or that I had no idea what was going to become of me. I just stood in front of your gate watching a little girl pick flowers. This is sounding weirder the more I think about it.
As I was about to walk away and head back into the real world because I was sure this part of my journey was a hallucination, the golden gates opened. Rachel runs out and into my arms. You were chasing after her. She held onto my dress as you got closer. You stopped moving once you saw me. My tired eyes met yours. I felt ashamed and the look of disgust on your face didn't help either.
You tried to hide it with a smile but I saw it. I knew I was dirty and smelly. Of course, I hadn't slept for days nor had I had the chance to eat or shower.
"Rachel, come here now" you yelled but she held on tighter to my dress. She smelled like a lollipop. "I am not joking.Let go of the lady and let's go inside".
Rachel didn't move. You took a step forward. It was now that I noticed your silk robe and silver slippers. I also noticed a glass half-filled with whiskey. You took a sip from your glass.
"Tell me that I'm precocious." Rachel demanded
"I already said it, honey"
"I want you to say it like you mean it." She looked up at me "You think I'm precocious right?" I nodded having no idea what that meant.
Rachel looked at you "Ha, even this lady thinks I'm precocious."
You sighed "Rachel, stop this now, and let's go."
"Mom, I will only go in if she comes with me"
"no." your eyes widened
I released Rachel's hand from my dress but she doesn't go to you, instead, she folded her arms and found a seat on a clay pot close by.
"Honey, darling," you said, your voice bright and cheerful now "This lady has somewhere to go, she can't come in." you took a step forward almost tripping.
You gulped the last bit of whiskey, and just as sudden as a blink, you smashed the glass onto the hard ground. You wobbled your way to Rachel's side and picked her like a piece of paper.
"Let me go, let me go" She fought in your arms, throwing her legs and arms about, screaming at the top of her lungs. She wiggled her way out of your grasp somehow and made it to the ground. With her back on the floor and her eyes looking up at you, she watched you walk back into the house while you muttered something under your breath and then shut the gates behind you.
I run to Rachel and helped her up.
"She will come back for me, right?" she said with a fractured smile and watery eyes
"of course," I said in anattempt to console her.
"Can you stay?" she asked. Her voice was different, it wasn't the stubborn child looking at me anymore but now she had the face of a lost girl. She was sitting in front of her own home yet more lost than I was. I decided to stay. I couldn't leave her. Not when I knew what loneliness felt like.
It was then that I asked what precocious meant. She explained it to me. She started by telling me about her fight with her friend who said she was not special at all. But her teacher told her she was a precocious little child. All she wanted was for you to tell her that too.
Hours went by and we talked about a lot. It took me long to realize this but remember when I told you she made me forget Tanny, I now realize that she didn't make me forget her, rather, Rachel reminds me of her. Rachel had the same endearing quality about her that Tanny had. While I listened to her never-ending stories which she told in a very fashionable manner, with hand gestures and all, I never took my eyes off her for even a second.
Later, a black car drove into sight and your husband stepped out. He was disturbed that Rachel was sitting outside alone with a stranger. She explained what happened earlier and said that I was a friend. I noticed his fists clench up at his side but his facial expressions did not change. He thanked me for keeping her company and held her hand to go in.
She whispered something into his ears and he turned to ask me if I have a place to stay. I looked to the floor embarrassed. He told me to come in. When he asked for myname, with only a bit of hesitation I looked him in the eye and said, "Chloe, my name is Chloe."
And just like that, I was living in your house. I did my best not to be noticed. I followed all your rules. Especially the one you repeated countless times; 'don't talk to any of the family directly.' Not you or your husband and not Rachel. I can't say that I didn't try to follow them to the letter. I did all the chores you set aside for me - washing, wiping, folding, and vacuuming - every day for eleven months. I made sure I stayed in my room, hidden away from you people until morning came and I would wake up and do it all over again. It was only months later before I ever saw Rachel again.
That was a normal Tuesday, I remember because I only take Fluffy for walks on Tuesdays. I have no idea why you insisted different people take him out on different days but Fluffy did not like me at all. On this Tuesday he was even more stubborn and the walk turned into a full-body workout.
I quickly continued my rounds when I got back. It was already past four o'clock and I still had to clean Rachel's room, wipe the windows and finish the laundry I began earlier. Because Fluffy wouldn't listen to me, I stayed past my schedule, only ten minutes after five.
I was almost done folding the clothes in Rachel's room when I heard the front door open and shut with a loud bang. I heard her frantic steps race up the stairs. She was heading towards me. I quickly put the clothes in the wardrobe, unfolded - I remember you scolded me for that the next day - and squeezed myselfinside with the clothes. I listened to her toss her bag across the room and throw her shoes onto the bed. She dropped to the floor and I heard her sobbing.
It breaks my heart now that I revisit that day. I was scared. My fingers were shaking and my heart was pulsing, hiding in Rachel's closet. Just because you had warned me not to talk to her or even look in her direction. Just because I didn't want to disobey you so you don't have a reason to send me away, so I stayed and watched Rachel cry. She cried for several minutes without pausing. And after she was done and left the room, I too stealthily crept out of the closet and left through the backdoor.
I didn't sleep that night. I couldn't get her crying out of my head. It kept ringing in my ears like church bells, reminding me of Tanny and what she said to me about the piano. My life up to that point had been a compilation of tunes that I have not liked and I was beginning to hate the song that came from it. I knew Tanny wouldn't like it too. I decided to change it.
The next day I stayed past my time on purpose. I waited for Rachel to get home from school and then I went up to her. I didn't know what I was going to say or do, I just knew I had to do something, anything that would rewrite my song into a melody I at least could tolerate.
Like the day before, she dropped her bag in her room and her shoes but she didn't cry. She went to the kitchen. I was standing there when she arrived. I'm not sure if she didn't see me or pretendednot to, but she walked right past me toward your China set.
"Hi, Rachel. It's me, Chloe, do you remember me?" I said, clutching to a napkin
She didn't respond. She just took a stool and began to climb the shelf.
"Do you need any something I can get it for you?" I approached her
"Leave me alone. Don't touch me." She pushed me away with her elbow.
"Huh?" I was confused
"Go away." She warned, "My mom said I shouldn't be talking to you."
"I'm just trying to help you."
"I don't need your help. Go clean or something."
I was stunned. Where was the nice girl I met on that day? This wasn't her. I said to myself
Rachel proceeded to climb the stool, her feet were barely on the stool, and with one wrong move, she would have fallen and broken a bone. That wasn't the frightening part. What upset me the most was that the object she was reaching for was a bottle of whiskey. Your whiskey. I've seen how you get whenever you drink that stuff. You get angrier than normal and you scream at everyone. I didn't want that for Rachel. So, without a second to think, I quickly went over to her and carried her off the stool.
"What are you doing?" she yelled
"Don't yell at me." I yelled back "Do you know what that is?"
"Yes, it's my mom's whisky." She said without any hesitation and I was left mouth open "My mom and dad usually take it when they are feeling bad and I want some too"
"Trust me whatever it is. That drink will not make you feel better" I knelt to get to her height "You have to believe me, okay."
"But I want it," she said in a baby-like voice, throwing her arms around.
"Uhm, why don't we try something else and ifit doesn't work then I'll get you the whiskey myself." I don't know why I said this
"You promise?" she calmed down
"Yes," I said, "do you like ice cream?"
She rolled her eyes and nodded. "I guess"
I went ahead and took out the ice cream from the fridge. She moved around to climb up the stool. I was about to tell her not to but she cut me off
"Don't worry, I'm only sitting this time" she said
This made me laugh. I must say that you have - had a funny child. I don't know if she gets her peculiar sense of humor from you or her father because I have hardly any real conversations with any of you.
To be clear I don't blame either of you for what happened. It must be extremely difficult juggling your career and parenthood. The giant house, several cars, impressive careers, a successful marriage, and a beautiful daughter. I have never lived the life that you live, I only have a view from the outside so I can't judge. But it was frightening how much Rachel knew about alcohol and I don't even want to think about what she does when she's alone. Yeah, Rachel has been spending the afternoons alone. I was shocked to find out too. She told me that Wendy, the babysitter you hired, hardly ever comes around and arrives late on the days she chooses to show up.
"Why did you want to get that drink?" I asked her once she had her ice cream.
"Stop calling it 'that drink'." She swallows a spoonful "I'm not a kid and I already told you that I know it's my mom's whisky so you don't have to pretend like I don't know"
"Okay, why did you want the whisky?"
"Olivia says that I have an ugly face and thatmy hair is not real hair." She scoops another big spoon
"What! Why would she say that?"
"Don't act dumb!" Rachel aggressively points the spoon in my face "Everyone in my class looks prettier than me. All the girls have nice long hair. My mom has beautiful blond hair but I have this ugly skin and bad curly hair. Even you have better hair."
"Have you seen me? That's not true" I shook, my head and she looked at me like I had said a bad joke. "What I mean is that you are beautiful, with your curly hair and dark skin.
"I know what you're doing. You're trying to forfeit your promise" she chuckled
"No. I'm telling you the truth. You got your skin and hair from your father. They make up who you are."
Rachel simply nodded
I leaned closer "A special someone told me that we should never forget who we are."
At this point listening, I'm sure you might be already getting upset about what I had done. I broke all the rules and now I'm telling her about Tanny. You must be furious right now I know. I couldn't help it.
Rachel doesn't look up from her bowl as I spoke
"She said that these parts of us make up our story, like a movie. You like movies, right?
"I think movies are a little overrated."
"What do you mean overrated? Your mother makes movies for a living"
"Exactly." She puts the spoon in the tub and places it behind her "What I mean is why spend hours learning about people who don't exist? It makes no sense
"Err?" My brain went numb
"See, you have no answer" she smiled.
"Some movies are biographies; those tell stories about real people. Is that also overrated?"
"Mhmmm, those movies almost always change the stories to fit the general audience, and to that I saybullshit - I mean nonsense. I would rather read the books than watch any of those movies. #books are better"
"So, you like books?" I asked excitedly
"I used to but these days it's hard to find a good book anymore."
"Well, how about I tell you a story."
She shrugged "I am very hard to impress so good luck"
I go ahead and tell her one of my favorites of Tanny's stories. It was a fairy tale about giants and ghosts. Rachel sat there listening and she didn't interrupt me even once. I tried my best to tell it the way Tanny did.
"Is that it?" she asked when I was done.
"Yes"
"That's not fair. What happened to the ghost? Did he make it?"
"I guess we'll never know because that is how it ends."
"I think the ghost ends up with the giant."
"Like I said we'll never know"
I watched her as she got angrier. That was my exact reaction when Tanny told me that story. I never understood why it had no conclusion. I guess that was the reason it was my favorite. Because I could make infinite endings to the story.
We spent an hour rewriting the end of the story. We would have taken longer if you hadn't returned. I heard you arrive and I scrambled to leave. I turn to Rachel to tell her not to tell you. She nodded and said, "Don't worry I won't tell my mom".
From that day we hang out on most afternoons when Wendy didn't show up. Sometimes she would come up to my room at night and spend the night when the house felt too big. We would tell each other stories and occasionally play some games. Rachel had a great sense of humor and she was also smart and talented too. She has won almost all the Scrabblegames we played together and by almost, I mean all of them. She knew words that I didn't even know existed. She tells me that it is because she does these word puzzles in her school magazine and even encouraged me to try one myself. I did and collecting magazines became another one of the things we did together that you didn't know about. Now when I see a magazine, any magazine at all, I just freeze and can't bring myself to open it because that would just remind me of her.
All I am saying is Rachel was a great kid. I just get excited when I talk about her. Not that I've been going around telling people about her. Honestly, it has been tempting. I've just not seen a child this confident and smart and talented before. Let's not forget her laugh, it is so contagious. I grew up around a lot of kids and none of them were anything like Rachel. The children I came across always seem in a hurry. In a hurry to grow up and figure out who they were. I am also guilty of this. Everything I did was to get to the next thing, it can be very exhausting. But then I meet this girl who seemed to know who she was at a very young age; she didn't dream of the future. I used to envy this about her, her ability to get stuck in the present and bravely embrace who she was entirely. I had no idea that she hated the person she was.
Evelyn wipes her tears falling down both cheeks. She had been weeping throughout the entire recording. She straightens herself and goes on with the rest.
That night it all ended began like any other but changed when you arrived.
Racheland I started rounds of Scrabble games. She had already won the first two and I was trying to win this round.
"This is definitely not a word," I said pointing to the letters Rachel placed on the Scrabble board.
"P-h-l-o-e-m, that's a word. You can check the dictionary if you want to" she laughed which made me laugh.
"Fine. Just know that I'm letting you win because I'm nice"
"Yeah, right" she scoffed
"It's a strategy I use so when you let your guard down then I strike" I place the letters e-a-t under the m.
"That seems to be working so far, good job, I didn't even notice"
We were both laughing when you walked in. You had a smile on your face but it disappeared the moment you and I made eye contact. I would have left long before you arrived but Rachel told me you weren't coming home. And I believed her. She run to hug you both but your eyes were still on me. I, embarrassed as though my most secret of secrets had been leaked to the public, bowed and headed for the door. But then Rachel called "Evelyn don't go. Stay for dinner"
Your eyes shifted from me to your daughter, you looked as if she had said the worst thing possible. I watched your eyebrows crease and your eyes darken. You conjured up a smile. "Rachel, she must leave it is already late." you said
"Dad, let Evelyn stay for diner." Rachel went over to her father and held his hand "Please." She begged
He looked at me then at you for several seconds before saying "Uhm, I guess you can stay. It's not very late anyway"
"Thank you, thank you, Daddy," she hopped over to me "let's finish the game then."
I couldn't pay attention to the game after that. My mind wasshifting from place to place. Thinking of what to say so I can leave. I was wondering what was going through your mind at the time if you were thinking of firing me. If you were going to punish Rachel for mingling with me. I didn't want that at all. I didn't know it at that time but I had grown so fond of Rachel. She had become like a little sister I never had and I didn't know I needed. Whenever she is happy, I too became happy. I know this may sound selfish but if being selfish means I got to her sweet smile then I guess that was why I stayed. Not because I was being disrespectful or arrogant like you might have thought.
I was frightened.
When I sat at the table, I couldn't sit comfortably in my chair. I only sat on the edge ready to jump up as soon as possible. Even for a simple dinner, you looked very pretty and all glammed up. I know you certainly were not trying to impress me so this must have been normal for you.
"Mom, are you going to stay for my talent show next Thursday?" Rachel asked
"No dear," you rubbed her back "your father and I are only staying till the weekend"
"But Mom, Dad, you promised" she cried
"Rachel, we talked about it. Now eat your food before it gets cold"
"You never - " Rachel began but you cut her off
"Rachel, not here. We'll talk about it but not here."
The room was silent for a while until you spoke, again. "So how was your day, Betty?" you asked
I looked up. I wasn't even surprised you didn't know my name. You never spoke to me and when you did you always called me by the wrong name, Stephanie, Susan, orBetty like that time.
"Her name is Evelyn" Rachel corrected
"It was?it was okay" I stammered
"And you like playing Scrabble? Are you any good?" your husband asked. I appreciated the effort to lighten things up but I was too tense for any rescuing.
"No," Rachel said still with her mouth full. You gave her a look and she swallowed before saying her next words "No, Evelyn is still a beginner."
You didn't say anything, just smiled.
"Do you let her call you by your first name?" you said "Rachel can be stubborn sometimes if you don't mi - "
"Oh no, it's totally fine."
"Yeah, she doesn't mind" Rachel jumps in
"Oh really. Why is that?" you asked
"It's nothing. I just don't see the difference" I said
"Right." You dropped your cutlery and looked me right in the eye "Tell me, what do you want?" you demanded
"Mom!" Rachel bellowed
"Tess," your husband said
"Don't worry you won't get fired if you tell me. Is it money you want?"
"Mom, that is not true. She's just my friend."
"Rachel, stay out of this"
"I don't want anything." I said rather quietly but I was freaking out on the inside.
"Is that so, then why are you here? Scrabbling and laughing together. That is not the job we pay you to do. So, say it do you want a raise?"
"Dad, are you going to sit and let Mom talk to my friend like that?" Rachel is yelling by now but your attention doesn't leave me.
"I'm sorry, this won't happen again." I said, my eyes fixed on the ground
"Ugh, I can't believe you Mom" Rachel hits her hand on the table and gets up "You guys are so self-centered and incapable of seeing anything in the world apart from yourselves. You think everyone wants your money. Well, here's a reality check, not everybody is out to get you.Not everything is about you."
She storms out of the dining room leaving the three of us too shocked to say anything. I bet you still had more to say though but I didn't let you.
"I'm sorry for the inconvenience I caused." I said, "If you don't want me to work here anymore, I will understand." I walked out of the front door without looking back. Even after you shouted the words:
"You are fired"
I still didn't look back. I went to my room and I packed my things. It wasn't a lot so I didn't take long. I thought of leaving without saying goodbye to Rachel but I couldn't so I made a U-turn to your front door and knocked. Your husband opened the door for me.
"Ah Evelyn, I was just about to send for you" he looked at the bag in my right hand and sneered "Tess didn't mean what she said. You're not fired of course. She was just angry."
I turned to you, you were seated in the living room with a glass of whisky in your hand, you turned to your husband then you smiled and nodded. You had the type of smile that reversed everything and made a person feel warm. And I trusted it.
You asked me to sit next to you and I did. I refused to sip your drink and you gulped it down in one go. Your husband turned his back to us to answer a call.
"Again, I am sorry for what happened." I said sincerely
You waved your hand at me "I had an awful day at work and I was just surprised. That's all."
Your husband said he had some business to attend to and he left. You were silent as the engine roared outside and the gates opened. After the car left thecompound. You poured yourself another glass and sat up in your chair.
"You didn't answer my question earlier." You said as you took a sip
"Your question?" I asked, confusion drawn across my face
"Ugh," you grunted "don't act all innocent. I've seen your type before. You pretend to be interested in my child and play this innocent character. But you want something, right, so come out with it already. What do you want?"
"I told you I don't want anything." I said
You woke up shaking your head vigorously "Is it a job? Do you want to be part of my new film? That should be it." you tapped your chin
"What?"
"Do you want cash? I can give you cash"
"No, I don't - "
"Is it Bob? He sent you right? He sent you to come and destroy me. I've seen you snooping around"
"No!" I got up now, disgusted at the things you were insinuating "I would never do that. I don't know anyone named Bob"
"Don't lie to me!" you yelled, pointing a stern finger at me
Mortified, I sat back down. I felt every single strand of hair on my arm rise. I stared as you descended from an ultimate high to a low. As if you were a shapeshifter, transforming from a beast into an angel - an injured angel. You approached me with teary yet alarming eyes and whispered "Rachel, my dear Rachel is a precious little girl."
"I know" I agreed
"She is smart but she is also very fragile. And I know you are not right for her. She needs someone? better"
I forced a smile, even though you had turned your back on me. I felt you counting down in your mind until I leave. I didn't want to leave but I couldn't stay either. I knew one way or another you would havefound another way to get rid of me. So, I agreed with you. I wrote a note that I was sure you never intended to pass on to Rachel and placed it on the table next to you. I took my already-packed bag and walked out the front door, again. This time when I walked out the door, I walked out the gates too, the golden gates.
I hung my bag across my shoulders and started my journey, with no destination in mind, but this time I had a little money. I had been saving up because I knew this day would arrive sooner or later.
I hadn't even walked past your street when I heard Rachel's voice calling from behind.
'Evelyn!"
I turned to find her running towards me with a bag in her hand.
"What are you doing? Go back home." I said
"I want to come with you." She was breathless from the run but also from her vivid excitement "I heard you and my mom talking and I quickly packed a bag for myself."
"No, you can't come with me. I don't even know where I'm going"
"It doesn't matter. I have money so we can go anywhere. We have to hurry before she notices." she laughs
The idea was tempting, I won't deny that but my mind was still on what you had said: "She needs someone better". Even if we had money now, we were going to run out, and then what next. I have no qualifications whatsoever. This was never going to work. But then I looked at her and she looked happy, happier than I've ever seen her, and I didn't want to destroy that.
So, the plan was I would go along with her idea and call you when we get to a gas station or anywhere I can get accessto a phone. I can agree that wasn't the best plan but it was the only one I had at the time.
She was so happy talking about the constellations in the sky and some other things I didn't hear because I was focused on my plan. She was twirling around in her little dress. Hopping up and down as though there was music playing that only she could hear. All I could hear was the beating of my heart against my chest.
As we've both said Rachel is smart. It didn't take her long to figure out my plan. I'm sure she noticed my sudden edginess because when we got closer to the station, she stopped walking.
"You're not taking me with you, are you?" she asked sullenly like a switch was flicked and the vibrant girl was gone.
"I just want to get some snacks" I tried to fake it for a little longer but my face gave it away.
We stood right under a streetlight so she could see all my fault lines and fading smiles. And I could see her disappointed eyes.
"You don't want me." Rachel drops her bag to the ground
"No, it's not that." I said
"Nobody wants me" She takes a step back from the pavement and then another step.
"Rachel, don't walk off the pavement."
She kept going
"Where are you going?" I asked, I wasn't thinking about a car - honestly, I wasn't thinking at all. It had been a long night and I was too tired to think. And Rachel wasn't helping either.
"I knew it." she said barely audible
"Knew what?"
I heard the engine's rumble first, then I saw the lights and then I heard the tires screeching.
"Get out of the way" I screamed
"I want to go." she said quietly
"Okay you can come with me just get out of the way"I pleaded
The engines rumbled, the tires screeched and the lights got brighter.
She smiled and said "My song ends here but I'm okay. I won't have to wake up anymore." Her last step away "Happy birthday, Evelyn"
Before I could say anything, the car came at full speed and hits her to the ground. I stared at her; my mouth wide open. I turned to look past the blinding lights, through the windscreen and there you were. I couldn't make out the expression on your face but I recognized your teary yet alarming eyes. You didn't even get out of the car or say a word, you just drove away, as rowdy as you drove into your daughter.
I run to Rachel's body, sobbing. I tried to get her to wake up - I called her name, slapped her face, shook her body - but none of that worked. I felt her skin get colder as the seconds passed. It was a while before I called the ambulance or the police. Before that my brain was still struggling to put together the events of the night, I was still battling to accept that all of this happened.
To accept that you killed Rachel and I stood there watching.
I didn't have to tell the police much because they had already arrested you for drunk driving somewhere else and when I described the car, the officer already knew who I was talking about.
I have spent the majority of this morning trying to record this, you needed to know all of this before I show up in court next month. You may or may not know this already but I am among the list of witnesses.
I wanted you to hear this from me first. Visiting you in jail was not an option, not because I'm afraid ofyou but because I'm afraid of what that'll do to me. It was not entirely your fault. Most of it was your fault and I will never be able to forgive you for any of it but now that you've heard this maybe you can see it from another view.
I have no idea where you were going that night or if Rachel knew it was you behind the wheel or if she just took the first opportunity that came her way. And that happened to be you.
Do I blame you? Absolutely. But I also blame myself.
She came to my room one night with an unexpected question:
"Why do we have to wake up every day, Evelyn?"
It was one of those weeks when you and your husband went away for business or something related and left Rachel at home. It was late and I was already half asleep when I heard the door slide open. Wendy was still around when I left the main house. I wasn't expecting her in my room so when she asked me this, I assumed it was one of her general questions, so I said
"I don't know. People just wake up." I answered with my eyes still closed
She just stayed silent and I heard her tiny footsteps coming to the bed
"So, what happened this time?" I asked once she was seated next to me on the bed "A bad dream?"
"But Tanny never woke up again." she said
Every time she asked about tan, I would say that she fell into a deep sleep and never woke up again. I still didn't have it in me to talk about the fire that much. And I snapped
"Rachel, I told you I don't want to talk about Tanny"
"But I want to know - "
"You don't have to know everything" I yelledand slammed my fist into the pillows.
I looked at her and she was startled. Her face was frozen in fear and her fingers were shivering.
"I'm sorry" I tried to reach her fingers to make them stop but she pulled them away.
"Let's sleep." She said and never spoke about Tanny again. And I never asked.
How could I when all I wanted was to forget everything about that day? I wanted to lock up every memory of the fire into a box and throw it far away. But now all I can think about is, what if I had opened up the box? What if I had released all of those memories? Maybe Rachel would still be here. Maybe she wouldn't have jumped in front of your car seeking the answers I may or may not have been able to give her. I can never know but I should have tried. We should have tried.
Now that I have said all that I wanted to say, I have no idea what comes next. Not that I expected some magical transformation, though I wouldn't mind either, but there's one last thing I want to say. Rachel was wrong. Her song didn't end that night.
Evelyn stops the recording. There is nothing more left to say. She lays back on her side as she lets the moment settle in. The relief she expected was not as riveting as she had hoped but it was there. Subtle and soft like a flower petal on her skin, like a sweet lullaby playing in the distance. She lays on her back and wilfully listens as it brings her to sleep.
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