Young Writers Society

CHAPTER SIX
Jordan

“-And that’s all that they would tell me.” My aunt, Carolina Sinclair, stood at the counter with her long slender fingers clasped worriedly around a mug of coffee. As much as it wouldn’t make sense to trust her, I wanted to. She was so sweet with Arie and me…

She reached into a bowl of caramels, taking off the golden wrapper and popping it into her mouth. If North Star was as air-tight and legitimate as it seemed to be, Arie was as stolen as Lane and I. But she and Aunt Lina did look alike – both with darker skin, long black hair and dark doe-like eyes. With any luck she wouldn’t have to be placed in the hot seat as a potential baby-snatcher.

In the meantime, she would be the one adult I trusted. My parents would’ve been the clear choice, but something in me advised against it for the moment, as they were almost too close to me. I didn't like the idea of alienating myself from the rest of the household. Sensing that she'd be lonely with Arie gone, I'd asked to spend the night, and in a matter of minutes the two of us were in our pajamas with the usual friendliness. Unlike our usual conversations, though, this one was serious. “You mean, they just took her off to juvie, without one phone call?” I asked.

“They said Arie could call first thing tomorrow morning,” Aunt Lina assured me. “But I hope she’s okay…she’s too small and insecure to fend for herself in a place like that.”

Seeing the look on my aunt’s face, I reached out to squeeze her hand. It was the only way to keep her from slipping into her distant state of mind, a condition she’d received from a car crash when Arie was only a few months old. It had drained her of all memory before her awaking in the hospital, and now and then still affected her in situations that tested her emotionally. Rare circumstances brought up seizures, but more commonly she just withdrew herself from everything, mumbling, trying to reclaim certain trains of thought relating to before the incident. It always ended with a hopeless shake of her head, her husband Noah trying to clear things up with whatever he could explain. “It’s okay, Aunt Carolina,” I promised. A smile quivered on her face, forced on with honest determination.

“You’re right, Jordan. She’s a big girl. She’ll be alright.”

I wish I felt as sure as I must’ve sounded, but at least I could give her a little peace of mind. In the meantime, I looked for clues. Mystery flicks had for years alluded to a sudden spark of knowledge or insight that would lead straight from clue-to-clue, but reality left me in a telltale drought. I wondered if Arie was wearing her locket, the place where her own baby picture was from the North Star site. It was the only one we had, and even though it didn’t have a giveaway like Lane’s embroidered star, having it in my hands to look at would’ve been a tiny comfort.

Having Arie here would be a huge comfort.

In the meantime, Aunt Lina played some warm music in the radio, sinking into one of the soft sofas. The music, pale wall colors and soft white furniture were almost therapeutic, and I wondered if that was the intent. I didn’t want to addle her measured-and-metered mind, but I did want answers. I didn't want to scare her, but I knew that the idea that they’d brought Arie to juvie for trespassing was unrealistic at best. Arie didn’t stick her nose where it didn’t belong. Besides, pretty much everyone around knew Arie because she ran most of the errands for her parents; they would’ve let her go, and most people wouldn't have suspected anything of it in the first place. Had she gone to MERCY? Did she beat me to the quick, somehow knowing something even before I did?

I sat next to Carolina. “Aunt Lina, do you know where they found her?”

“Mr. Murphy’s part of the woods,” she replied. “I guess the crab threw a fit and got Arie all riled up. It’s not an Arie-like thing to happen, but I guess things like that do. The police called me first thing, but I just don’t understand why they won’t let me see her.”

“You don’t think it was something to do with MERCY, do you?” I knew I was treading deep waters here, but I was tired of being around-the-bush.

Her dark brown eyes widened as she stared at me. “Why would it be?”

I shrugged, saying nothing and taking a sip of my hot chocolate. “Just a thought,” I answered finally.

Aunt Lina’s face had changed. “A thought,” she murmured, barely audible. “A thought.”

She stood up fast, crossing to the kitchen in only a few strides. Her mug clanked into the sink, but she didn’t move. She just stood over the sink, leaning forward. Her long dark hair cloaked her expression from me, but I knew what was happening. The older wheels in her mind were spinning, sputtering, churning up and coughing dust. Hazy images were projecting themselves like an outdated movie clip onto her own personal screen.

Carolina turned back towards me once again, but I could tell she was looking way further than the living room. “A man,” she whispered. “He…was talking. With another. ‘We’ll have to keep her clueless,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t matter, it’s just a thought. We just take…’”

She shook her head, sinking into the recliner.

“Take what, Lina?”

She looked up at me, and for the first time I was honestly scared of her. Aunt Lina’s eyes narrowed into serpentine slits, skin tightening on her face as if she was holding back a dangerous bite. Then her eyes closed. Her voice ran like icy water past her lips: “‘We’ll just take it all away. Like nothing. She won’t remember who she is or was. She’ll believe what she’s told to believe. The surgery is sure-fire. The drugs will do the rest.’”

Aunt Lina wasn’t talking to me; not to herself. She was mimicking things she’d heard somewhere. “Lina?” I asked softly. “Who was saying that?”

I waited. In that time I called Lane, told him to come in the lowest voice I could. Of course, his voice was slurred with whatever drink he'd watered his brains out with. I was seriously going to bash the drunk's brains in. When I hung up, Aunt Carolina hadn’t changed in any way.

I waited.

Finally: “One was Dr. Parson.” Her lip quivered, body shook so slightly most probably wouldn’t have noticed. “The other was my husband.”

Okay, so my main thing with this is, it doesn't really seem to match up with the chapter before it. I get the time difference is there, but 1, I'd expect it to get at least to close to the point where Lane arrives. And, okay, if it doesn't, it's not the end of the world. But it's the chapter before, and while transporting to the place of the phone call, we still have very little explanation of what happened.

For example: There was something about a potted fichus in the chapter before. We're not to that point. We're still wondering what caused it. And the next chapter doesn't tell us either. I just think there should be some hint. Because, well, the woman doesn't seem to be in an episode. She's acting fairly calm - almost too calm, actually - for the events. I mean, her daughter being taken away with no warning to juvenile detention? She's not even really trying to do anything about it.

Which brings me to my other point - why is this so easily accepted? I don't know much about this personally, but for a first-time trespassing, juvie seems extreme. From what I understand (and no, this isn't much) you can do a lot worse than that and not get sent away. Yes, Jordan mentions how this is out there, but I think it's more than out there. And the fact that the mother doesn't question it is a little too convenient - like Jordan's only questioning it 'cause she's suspicious of everything now. Just because people don't have reasons like that to be suspicious doesn't mean they'll just accept anything that comes there way.

So, just work on making it match up and being more believable. Other than that, the emotion's good, the descriptions are pretty good. It's nice. Just keep in mind the thing's I've said.

loveness, ultraviolet <3