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“What the hell!” Kiera cried, and turned around. She and her girlfriend were snacking on popcorn. They sat on two large red leather seats with a wide arm between them on which they had the bowl of delicious-smelling popcorn.
“What are you watching? Why didn’t you tell me Deidre was coming here tonight?”
“Daddy said we could,” Kiera said. “And for your information, this picture is going to be nominated for an Academy Award. You’re ruining it for us. Please turn off the lights.”
“Hi, Mrs. March,” Deidre said. She had auburn hair, smartly shaped, and was one of the prettiest girls I had seen.
“You can leave her here to watch if you want, Mother. I’m sure she’s seen worse on the street.”
Mrs. March seemed at a loss for words. She didn’t move me or herself. The couple on the screen got up laughing and charged into the ocean, splashing each other.
“Deidre’s mother would not like her watching this, I’m sure,” she finally said.
“Are you kidding? She was jealous that she was getting to see it. Right, Deidre?”
“She was, Mrs. March.”
Without further comment, Mrs. March turned me away and started out.
“Turn down the lights again, Mother!” Kiera screamed.
Mrs. March didn’t. She continued to push me out and down the hallway.
“Thanks, Mother!” Kiera shouted after us.
“I’ll take you up to your room. You can watch television in your own suite,” Mrs. March said. I didn’t look back at her, but from the way her voice trembled, I knew she was shaken.
As we went into the elevator, I realized that Kiera finally had told at least one of her friends about me, and surely once one found out, others would, as well. I wondered how she explained my presence in their home. Surely by now, her friends knew about the accident she had caused. One or two of them might have been with her in the car and probably high on drugs as well. They and their parents would have good reason not to let other people know what had happened.
After she had settled me in my suite, Mrs. March said that before going to bed herself, she would stop by again to be sure I was fine. She looked anxious to leave and hurried out, to speak with her husband I was sure. When she returned hours later, she didn’t look much calmer. In fact, she looked as flushed as someone who had been in a nasty argument. I let her help me undress and get ready for bed, more out of sympathy for her than because of any need of my own. It seemed to help settle her down. After I was in bed, she tucked the blanket in
around me, but she didn’t leave. She pulled up a chair beside the bed and smiled.
“Did I tell you that when Alena was younger, she would often describe dreams she had? She loved telling stories, and to her, the dreams she had were often her best. Even Donald, as busy as he seemed, enjoyed having her go on and on. Only Kiera would complain that Alena didn’t leave much time to talk or hear about anything else. Did I tell you about all that?”
“No,” I said. What made her think she had told me? We didn’t speak that much about Alena.
“Anyway, to help her get to sleep the next night, I would sit here just as I am sitting now, and we would think of ways the dream story could continue or how it might lead to another dream. Sometimes Donald would stop in and participate. Who’d ever think that something so terrible would happen to such a lovely little girl?”
She continued after a little pause of sadness, “It seems I keep apologizing to you for what goes on here. It will get better. I promise.” She patted my hand and started to get up, but then stopped and looked at me. “You didn’t have any storylike dreams last night, did you?”
“No,” I said.
“Well, if you ever feel like talking about a dream you’ve had, don’t hesitate to tell me, okay? Good. Sweet dreams, then.” She leaned over to kiss me on the forehead. She put the chair back, smiled at me, and put out the lights on her way out, closing the door softly behind her. The house was quiet, but when I adjusted myself to get a little more comfortable, I heard the music start in Kiera’s room. It was so loud that I was sure Mr. and Mrs. March had to hear it, as well, but it continued.
She’s doing that deliberately, I thought. Why couldn’t she use earphones? Perhaps her friend Deidre was still there and in the room with her. Maybe she was showing off, showing her how she could annoy me. I imagined her bragging about how she would drive me out of there soon. Finally, the music was turned down or turned off, and the silence returned.
It was still difficult for me to fall asleep. I anticipated Kiera bursting in on me again to make more threats, but she didn’t. I also thought about what Mrs. March had said about Alena’s dreams. I wondered if her dreams would somehow become mine if I remained there. Maybe dreams lingered like cobwebs. They were floating about looking to settle in another young girl’s mind.
I half wished they would. My interest in knowing more about Alena seemed to grow stronger with every minute I was in the suite. Whether it was wishful thinking or not, I half expected that someday, she would reach out to me to tell me that she would help me.
“Don’t worry,” she would whisper, “I’m here.”
I so needed a friend.
Even one who had died.
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