That Night (20 page)

I ran the last mile to the halfway house—fast, trying to outrun my thoughts, my memories, and the fear that was still there. Those girls.

*   *   *

A week later I was starting to get over my encounter with Cathy and the painful memories it stirred up, but I was having second thoughts about moving back to Campbell River now that I knew Shauna was still there. In the end I decided to stick with my game plan and focus on the future, which was almost in my grasp.

Then Helen came to find me.

I was eating cereal in the kitchen one morning when she plopped her heavy body on the seat across from me, the chair creaking under her weight as she leaned forward. “You been talking to Harley about me?”

I looked up, confused—and noticed Joanne hanging out in the hallway, like she was keeping a lookout. This wasn’t good.

I finished my mouthful of cereal. “Now, why would I do that?”

“Someone told him I’ve been dealing drugs—they searched my room.”

And she thought it was me because of my threat. They obviously hadn’t found anything or she’d have been sent back to Rockland. But she was still pissed. I glanced around the room and noticed one of the other parolees sneaking out of the kitchen. She met my eyes, looked away. Her name was Dawn and she also walked through the park on her way home from work. Did she rat Helen out?

“I haven’t told anyone anything,” I said, “because I don’t
know
anything. I just served years for a murder beef. You think I’m stupid enough to cause a problem over you when I’m this close to my parole?”

I brought up the murder because I wanted to remind Helen I was someone she should be scared of, but she didn’t look the least bit intimidated.

“I warned you not to screw with me, Murphy.”

She got up and walked out.

*   *   *

Later, I searched my room—if the staff hadn’t found anything in Helen’s room, she had to have stashed it somewhere else. I’d have to check every day. I did a cursory inspection of Joanne’s side, not wanting to move her shit around too much. I didn’t see any drugs, but they had to be somewhere. When Joanne came back from her job I ignored her as I got ready for bed. I hadn’t had a problem with her hanging out with Helen before, but as far as I was concerned she’d crossed a line. Joanne was ignoring me too, which was just fine by me. I wanted to kick her ass but I had too much to lose—my hearing was in a month.

It stayed like that for the next week: Joanne and I ignoring each other, Helen watching me. There was a coffee shop I liked to visit, just to sit or read, but now I’d see Helen and Joanne there in my usual spot, so I’d have to get my coffee to go. I was barely eating and exhausted from waking up and glancing over at Joanne if she so much as turned over, waiting for her to attack me. I thought about Shauna and the girls, remembering the constant feeling that something bad was going to happen. I tried to tell myself that shit was different now, I was an adult, but I felt just as helpless and full of rage as I had in high school.

Helen started bumping into me in the halls, a push here, a little shove there. Some of the other girls I’d gotten friendly with started ignoring me. No one wanted to get involved. I couldn’t go to any of the staff because essentially nothing had happened yet—and even if it had, I couldn’t say anything, not without risking my parole. All Helen had to do was plant something in my room again and I’d be screwed. I had to hang tight, but it was getting harder and harder not to fight back. It wouldn’t take long before she upped the ante, before the pushes and shoves wouldn’t be enough for her. I didn’t want to point the finger at Dawn because she had kids, but it wouldn’t matter anyway. The only thing that would make a bully like Helen feel better was to seriously hurt me. She was going to try something, I just didn’t know when.

A week later, I had the afternoon off. It was sunny, though still cool, only the first days of March. I grabbed one of my thick hoodies, a book, and a coffee, and walked to a park near the house, which overlooked the ocean. It was my favorite place to unwind. Sometimes I didn’t even read, I’d just sit and stare out at the water, at the vast space. Often my mind would drift to the girls back in Rockland and I’d hope they were okay. I usually chose a bench that was in the open so I could see anyone coming or going. That day, though, an older couple were in my usual spot so I had to pick another one that was set back in the trees more. I still felt safe because Helen and Joanne were working.

I’d just turned a page in my book, eager to get to the next scene, when I felt a movement behind me. Before I could react, an arm went around my throat and I was being hauled over the back of the bench. The book went flying. I kicked and struggled. The hard metal of the bench dug into my back as I was scraped along it and thrown to the ground, my teeth biting into my tongue. I had just enough time to register that it was Helen, Joanne standing behind her, when they started coming at my face. I blocked the punches, twisting and rolling, felt a jolt of agony as Helen connected with my arm. Shit. They were wearing brass knuckles. This time they were trying to leave marks. I curled into a ball, protecting my face and head, and took hit after hit, to my kidneys, my back, my legs and arms.

Then a muffled voice. Joanne’s. The blows finally stopped, footsteps running away, loud breathing fading off. Now another voice. “Oh, my God, are you okay?” Gentle hands on my arm.

I took my hands away from my face and opened my eyes, tried to catch my breath. I slowly uncurled my body, groaning.

A woman in a jogging suit said, “Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

I shook my head. “I’m okay.” She looked worried, her hand on her cell.

I got to my feet and leaned against the bench, gripping the back as spots swam before my eyes. My knees almost buckled, but I held tight.

I forced a smile. “I’m fine, really. I’ll call the police myself.”

Once the woman had jogged off, I limped to the bathroom in the park and tried to clean up as best I could. Bruises were already starting to show on my body, but my face at least was untouched. When I walked in the door of the halfway house, I held my body stiff, every breath sending a stab of pain through me, but trying not to show that I was badly hurt. Helen was at the front desk, talking to one of the staff members. She looked surprised for a moment and nervous, her gaze shifting from me to the staff member and back to me, like she was waiting for me to say something.

“How you doing, Murphy?” she said as I signed in.

“Great.” I nodded, smiled. “Never felt better.”

Now her eyes flashed anger, but she couldn’t do anything. I finished signing in and headed upstairs without giving her another glance.

Joanne was in our room. I walked over and grabbed the front of her shirt, pulling it up tight around her throat so she was forced to gasp for breath. My body was in agony, but I gritted my teeth. Her gaze flicked to the door, her mouth open as though she was going to call for help. I slapped my hand across her lips. I leaned closer until I could see every red vein in her eyes, smell stale cigarettes and something chemical drifting off her skin, made more pungent by her fear.

I said, “You touch me again, you do one fucking thing to me, and I’ll kill you, understand?”

She nodded frantically. I released her and she dropped back down onto the bed, rubbing at her throat. I stood in front of her.

“Keep the fuck away from me or I’ll gut you like a pig.”

She met my eyes, looking even more terrified than when I’d been gripping her. She knew I wasn’t making idle threats. I went to my bed, this time sleeping solid.

After that, Joanne stayed out of my way. Helen was still watching me, and I didn’t doubt that if she had a chance she’d try to finish what she’d started. But I didn’t plan on giving her an opportunity. I stopped going to the park and the shelter, only walking to work or my programs, and always with other people, never alone. When I was at the halfway house I avoided any of the common areas and stayed in sight of the staff at all times unless it was bedtime or I had to shower. Even then I made sure I came out holding something, like a mirror in my hands that I could smash and use as a weapon. My teeth ached from clenching my jaw tight, all my muscles at the ready. I lost some weight, only eating when I was working at the restaurant, and my breath constantly felt like it was stopped in my throat, but the days passed without any more incidents.

Finally, I was driven back to Rockland and had my parole hearing. I’d been nervous, damp circles of sweat under my dress shirt, and I’d hated having to express remorse for murdering my sister when I knew I was innocent, but it had to be done. To make my words resonate and ring true, I focused on my real regret about that night, how much I wished Ryan and I had made different decisions, how I’d do anything to take it all back. It was easier then, to express my shame, easier to share how much I wanted to do the right thing for the rest of my life.

I was granted full parole and would be allowed to live in Campbell River. I was going home, to a place where no one would be welcoming me.

While I was packing my belongings at the halfway house, Helen came to my door.

“Got a going-away present for you, Murphy.” She threw a plastic bag at my bed and it came to rest by my suitcase. The bag had opened slightly when it fell and its gruesome contents spilled partway out onto my bed. A dead rat.

I remembered Harley setting traps under the house a couple of days ago, how Helen had smirked when I walked by. I glanced at her now.

“You better hope you never see me again, bitch,” Helen said.

I turned back to my suitcase and kept packing. She stood there for a moment, watching me. I wanted to tell her off. But I kept my mouth shut until she finally walked away. She didn’t matter anymore. I was finally free.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

C
AMPBELL
R
IVER

A
UGUST
1996

After Nicole lied about my stealing the pills, we didn’t speak for a couple of days. We didn’t even look at each other when we passed in the hall, and I waited until she was out of the bathroom before I left my room. Once, I heard her stop in front of my door and thought she was going to knock, but then she kept walking. The phone rang late one night and I thought it was Ryan, but when I went downstairs Nicole was just hanging up, her face pale and tears in her eyes. She brushed past me and ran upstairs, slamming her door.

The next day, I told Ryan about the call. “I think some guy’s messing with her head. She’s acting so weird. I still don’t know why she lied about the pills.”

“You don’t think she’d do anything with them, do you? Like hurt herself?”

I paused, fear running through my body, then thought it through.

“No, not Nicole. She’s always too worried about my parents’ feelings and stuff. Shauna used to take her grandmother’s pills sometimes for parties, so we could experiment. She probably talked Nicole into doing the same thing.”

“Well, it’s pretty shitty that she blamed you.”

“Yeah.” I still wasn’t over it. It was bad enough that she’d been treating me like crap all year, but for her to outright accuse me? I could still see the looks on my parents’ faces, the disappointment and shame that I was their daughter. The way they’d been treating me since was even worse, the stiff politeness, like they were just trying to keep things calm until they were finally rid of me.

That Friday evening, the second-to-last weekend of August, they went out to a late dinner with friends, then they planned on going to an outdoor concert down at the harbor. I was packing some of my books, getting ready to move out, when Nicole showed up at my bedroom door. I didn’t even look at her.

“Toni, can I talk to you?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” I still didn’t turn around.

“I’m sorry—for what I did.” Her voice was small and timid.

Now I faced her. She was nervous, fiddling with the strap on her tank top, her shoulders burned. I’d seen her in the backyard the day before, lying on one of the chairs, not reading or anything, just staring at the fence.

I wasn’t letting her off that easy.

“Sorry for what? Treating me like shit for most of the year, or blaming me for what you did and lying about it?”

She burst into tears, her shoulders shaking as she covered her face with her hands. I didn’t know what to say. I was used to fighting, had wanted to swear and yell and scream at her. Her reaction caught me off guard.

I sat on my bed, waited for her to calm down. Finally, she took a few breaths and wiped her face with her hand.

“I know I’ve been awful. I can’t believe what I’ve done.” Her horrified expression made me think she was talking about more than just how she’d treated me.

“What’s been going on with you?” I said. “You’ve been a super-bitch.”

“I … I can’t tell you.”

I shook my head, angry, and made to get up again.

She held out a hand in a plea. “I
want
to tell you, I do, but I can’t. I’m sorry, Toni. I just can’t.”

“So why are you here?”

“I needed you to know how sorry I am for how terrible I made you feel. It makes me feel sick.” She grabbed her stomach. “I’ll tell Mom and Dad I stole the pills. I just couldn’t sleep—and I thought they’d help. I’ll even tell them how mean I’ve been to you.”

She sounded sincere, and she did look really upset, so I had a feeling she meant it, but she still wasn’t telling me everything.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” I said.

“I just … I have a lot on my mind.”

I gave her a look, but it was obvious she wasn’t going to share anything else. “I’m moving out anyway,” I said.

“You’re really going?” She looked like she was going to cry again.

“Why do you even give a shit? You’ve spent months treating me like dirt.”

“I told you, I’m sorry for all that. You’re my sister, and it’s weird thinking that you won’t be here anymore. School’s starting soon, and it will just be me for two more years, and—” Her voice broke, and she took a shuddering breath.

“I thought you’d like that.”