Fiction



  Fiction

  Chapter One

  Helen sat on the couch, doing a crossword puzzle. She kept her feet tucked beneath her, in her typical thinking pose.

  “A separation of partners, seven letters...” She whispered to herself. She glanced over at her husband, considering for a second asking him if he knew. But his scowl as he skimmed his court notes told her everything she needed to know.

  Greg had not been exactly ‘friendly’ of late, and sometimes Helen worried their relationship was failing. She pushed that thought out of her mind, as she did every time it reared its ugly head, and turned back to her puzzle.

  Her thinking was cut off by a horrible scream, echoing throughout the house. It was soon followed by a second.

  Helen lept up in alarm. “Sophie...” She breathed, recognizing her daughter’s voice immediately. She rushed to her daughter’s bedroom, banging her shin on the table on the way. She had to try three times before the doorknob would turn, but finally, she swung the door open.

  Her heart stopped.

  Sophie sat on her bed, arms wrapped around her knees, rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm. Her face was wet with tears, and she clutched at the fabric of her sweat pants, digging her nails in as though to anchor herself. Even as Helen watched, she let out another ear-piercing shriek. She didn’t even notice her mother in the doorway.

  Helen stepped forward, and took a deep breath. She sat on the bed next to her daughter, wrapping her arms around the distraught girl’s shoulders in an attempt to stop the rocking.

  “What’s wrong Sophie?” Helen asked. Sophie was.... unstable. She was easily affected by things she heard or saw on television. She had once cried for over a day when she read about the death of her favorite character in a short novel. The doctors called it Extreme Delusional Disorder. She attended correctional therapy, but still had occasional breakdowns.

  Sophie jumped as though startled at her mother’s voice. “He’s gone...” Her voice was close to a whimper. “Who’s gone, sweetie?” Helen asked gently, brushing the hair out of her daughter’s eyes and tucking it behind her ear.

  “It’s Mark... He’s left me....” Sophie’s eyes filled with fresh tears as she spoke.

  Helen held back a sigh, looking around at her daughter’s room. She spotted the well-worn novel lying on the floor. She bent to pick it up, and opened it to the bookmark; the chapter where the brave hero left in secret to fight the crusades, leaving his fair maiden home alone.

  “Mark’s off fighting, Sophie. Don’t you remember what comes next?” Sometimes it was easy to forget she was talking to a young adult. She seemed to act so much younger during her ‘episodes’.

  Sophie shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes with a palm. Helen smiled gently. “Well, why don’t we find out?”

  ***

  They read the book together, from the bookmarked section, to the happily ever after.

  Helen looked up from the book to see that her daughter was now lying peacefully, almost asleep. “There, you see? Everything’s alright.” Helen smiled softly, closing the book.

  “So he’s coming back then?” Sophie mumbled sleepily.

  Helen frowned slightly. “Didn’t you hear? He already came back. Him and Chloe are living happily ever after now.” She laid the book down on the nightstand.

  “No,” Her daughter insisted stubbornly. “Coming back here.”

  Helen’s heart sank. They had been warned this could happen. That one day Sophie might sink so far into her fantasy world she might never resurface. “I’m sure if you go to sleep now he’ll be waiting for you when you wake up.” She kissed her daughter on the forehead like she used to, before clicking off the lamp and slipping silently from the room.

  Her husband was waiting for her.

  “How long?” She whispered, softly closing the door behind her.

  Greg checked the watch on his wrist. It had been his father’s. “Three and a half hours.” His voice was barely a whisper, and it sounded strained.

  “Three?” Helen’s voice cracked, as the words sunk in. Three and a half hours, and she still had been unable to quiet her child’s fears as she had so many times before. She felt horrible, like she was suffocating.

  “She’s not better this time Greg...” She finally managed to choke out, as tears filled her eyes.

  “Oh Helen...” Came the whispered reply. Greg put his arm’s around Helen, his own eyes damp as he half- led, half-carried her to the couch.

  Helen pulled away automatically as soon as they’d reached a sitting position, then almost blushed, ashamed of her shy behavior. Surely now the barrier between them would shatter, if only for a few moments. One glance told her it wouldn’t.

  Her husband’s posture mirrored her own, stiff, formal. It held no trace of the affection she had grown dependent on in twenty years.

  “What are we going to do?” She whispered hoarsely, unsure if she meant about Sophie, or their marriage. “I don’t know Helen, I just don’t know...” Greg ran his fingers through the neat black hair on his forehead.

  “We could....” He paused to clear his throat. “We could give her what she wants.” Helen almost laughed. “What? A fictional boyfriend?”

  Her husband’s face held no humor, and her own smile faded as he began to explain. She grew stiff from sitting in the same position for so long. Outside, the sun had started it’s long trek across the sky.

  ***

  “But Greg, we couldn’t do that! It’s, it’s...” Helen struggled for the words. “It’s just not right... how could we lie to her like that?”

  “It may be our only choice.” Greg said gravely.

  Helen opened her mouth to reply, but the bed creaked in the other room, cutting her off and announcing that their daughter was awake.

  She sighed, rubbing her face with a palm. “You call him.” She said in defeat. “I’ll go talk to Sophie.” “Alright.” Her husband looked a little too smug. It was unnerving.

  Helen swallowed, a chill running down her spine. She did her best to push the silly feeling aside as she returned to her daughter’s room, grasping the doorknob.

  “Sophie?” She called cautiously, afraid to wake her daughter in the case that she had been wrong.

  Sophie was already sitting up, rubbing an eye with her palm. “Is Mark here already?” She asked, all sleep disappearing from her face.

  “On his way.” Helen assured her, forcing a smile. On impulse, she grabbed the hair brush from her daughter’s dresser and sat next to her on the bed. She began to pull it gently through Sophie’s soft blonde curls.

  “What are you doing?” Sophie bristled, her shoulders stiffening.

  “You want to look good when he gets here don’t you?” Helen smiled, her hands never faltering in their slow, steady strokes.

  “Yes, of course...” Sophie seemed to force her muscles to relax, allowing her mother to continue.

  Chapter Two

  Cody gripped the steering wheel with both hands. They turned it almost on their own. He’d been this way so many times the path was easy to follow. Right, left, straight, freeway, stop sign, railroad, left. It went on an on in its monotony.

  Though the leather seat beneath him anchored his body where he sat, his mind was left to wander as it pleased; far north and slightly west to be exact; New York; Broadway. All he needed was a little more ‘funding’ and he’d be on his way.

  Money. Money was the reason this drive was so significant. This last job would put him just over what he needed for a small apartment just off of Broadway. He smiled to himself, falling into his typical daydream of fame and fortune on the stage.

  The large beige house flashed past.

  Cody hit the brakes, cringing as the tires let out an angry squeal. He grinned sheepishly and parked h
is car in reverse, backing into the overly-large driveway.

  A man and a woman waited for him on the porch. The man glared in disapproval as Cody stepped out. The woman smiled in quiet amusement.

  Cody scratched the back of his neck, feeling rather embarrassed at his opening display. “Mr. and Mrs. Stearn?” He confirmed, clearing his throat in an awkward sort of way. The man nodded.

  “You said you had a job for me?” Another nod.

  Cody began to feel exasperated. “Well, what is it?”

  The woman wrung her hands and turned to whisper in her husband’s ear, before slipping into the house. The man gestured to a pair of chairs. “Have a seat, Cody.”

  Cody nodded. “Thank you sir.” He waited for the man to sit down before sitting himself. Now was the time for flattery. This was how he got his parts.

  The man nodded his approval. “So, I understand you’re an actor.”

  “Yes sir, that is why I’m here. You mentioned that this would be impromptu? You must have an unique show planned, even school plays have scripts these days.” Cody was actually excited about the unexpected twist.

  The man seemed to find this rather humorous. He smiled wryly “Extremely unique. Tell me Cody, how familiar are you with this title?” He passed him a ragged paperback.

  “The Favor of a Lady?” Cody suppressed a snort. “No disrespect sir, but it sounds pretty cheesy.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Unfortunately, my daughter would not agree with you. In fact, she’s quite smitten with the hero, Mark, I think his name is.”

  “So, will I be performing at a birthday party, or a sleepover?” Cody smiled. He had played more teenaged heartthrobs than he could count.

  “Neither.”

  “Alright, I’ll bite. What kind of party is this?” “It’s not really a party, per say.”

  Cody shrugged. If this man wanted to be secretive than he could. “Fine. Just give me the date and I’ll be there. If you need me to wear a costume, my sizes can be located on my website.

  “Mark is her fantasy boyfriend, and she’s convinced he’s going to be here today. Your job is to play this young man until her mental health has improved, or your services are otherwise unnecessary.” The man explained quickly, as though he could not get the words out fast enough.

  Cody blinked. “She’s....crazy?” He wasn’t quite sure how much of this he was supposed to believe.

  The man bristled, huffing. “My daughter has a condition, young man. I will not hear you utter the word ‘crazy’ in my presence or hers so long as you live here. Understand?” “Yes sir.”

  “Good.”

  “So, how long do you think ‘my services will be required’?” Cody asked, suddenly eager to get this job over with; impromptu or not.

  The man shrugged. “Could be a few days, could be a few months. Your pay will fluctuate accordingly.” He added, narrowing his eyes.

  The message couldn’t have been clearer. If he did his job well, he’d be paid well. Screw up, and it’s game over. Period.

  “I understand completely sir.”

  “Excellent, I have some business to attend, but if you go inside, you can speak to my wife.” The man opened the door for him. “And you can meet Sophie.”

  Cody felt a shiver run down his spine. But he hid it with a winning smile. “I can’t wait sir.” He resisted the urge to bow sarcastically before stepping inside.

  The house was clean. Almost unnaturally so. Cody scanned the room, searching for an imperfection. If there was one, his untrained eyes could not spot it.

  Yet right in the center of the room, the woman from earlier stood dusting an already spotless vase. She seemed almost neurotic about it.

  “Mrs. Stearn.” Cody acknowledged, nodding his head respectfully.

  “Oh please,” The woman waved her hand dismissively, smiling gently. “Call me Helen.” She ran her fingers nervously through the unruly hair on her head. “I’m sure Greg has already explained the situation.”

  Cody nodded. “I suppose you should call me Mark now.” He smiled easily. At least Helen was easy enough to talk too. Her husband, Greg he supposed, acted as though he were talking to the president all the time.

  Helen grimaced for a moment. “Yes, I suppose I should.”

  Cody wanted to ask why she sounded so glum, but he bit his tongue. “Your husband told me I’d meet Sophie?” He prompted her, anxious to get started.

  The woman’s scowl deepened, but she quickly replaced it with a terribly forced-looking smile. “She’s just in her room, I’ll go get her.” She hurried off down a hallway.

  Cody sank into one of the cushioned chairs. He looked down at his hand, noticing that he still clutched the ragged paperback so tightly the binding was stretching and ripping. He quickly loosened his grip, and the book immediately fell open to the middle, where the pages were creased and dog-eared. He skimmed and skipped around the book, before ultimately closing it in disgust. How many times could you put the word ‘love’ in print like that before it lost all meaning?

  Footsteps echoed through the empty hall, and Cody looked up.

  Helen stepped back into the room, accompanied by a girl that could only be Sophie. He had, for some reason constructed in his mind an image of a younger girl, eight or nine perhaps, with pink shorts and pigtails. The mature teen in front of him surprised him. Oh well.

  Action.

  “Sophie!” Cody exclaimed breathlessly, standing and hurrying over to take the girl’s hands in one fluid movement.

  “Mark....” Came the response in the same breath. Except that hers wasn’t an act. “I can’t believe you’re actually here...” Her eyes were wide and wet with barely suppressed tears.

  “I have dreamed of nothing else for years.”

  Sophie smiled. “Page one hundred and sixty-seven.”

  Cody smiled in return. “You remember.” He would have to refrain from quoting what he had read of that book.

  “I will never forget.”

  Cody could think of nothing to say to that. To be honest, he was impressed by her devotion- and more than a little freaked out.

  Helen rescued him from an awkward silence. “Hey Sophie, why don’t you show Mark where he’ll be staying?” She smiled gently at her daughter.

  Sophie’s mouth turned down in a barely recognizable grimace as she turned to Cody. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.” She whirled around and headed right back down the same hall she had just come from.

  Cody followed slowly, puzzled by the sudden change in attitude. “What’s wrong?” He asked, giving in to his curiosity.

  Her scowl deepened even further. “It’s my mom!” She spat, not even hesitating. “I hate it when she talks to me like that. Like I’m a baby.” There was a ring of sincerity in her voice that had not been there a moment ago.

  “Well,” Cody reasoned, “She’s your mom. That’s what moms do.”

  “Not like this they don’t. It’s like she thinks just because, because...” She faltered for a moment before starting again. “I mean, I know I’m... different, but she acts like I can’t think for myself! Like some part of me is broken and she’s afraid to handle me!” Her voice was trembling by the end of her rant, but with her back turned it was impossible to tell if it was from anger or pain.

  He found himself taken aback once more. He had not expected her to be aware of her ‘condition’, as her father so tactfully put it. He was confused as to how she explained his presence, if she knew about her delusions.

  He almost slammed into Sophie when she came to a sudden halt in front of a door.

  She turned to smile at him. “Here it is!” She turned the knob, and the door swung open to reveal a room that looked shockingly like the rest of the house. With the exception of the walls, which were a light shade of green rather than tan. A large plaque over the window declared that ‘guests be welcome in our happy home!’

  “I thought I took that down...” Sophie muttered, blushing as she ripped the sign down and stowed it sa
fely in the closet.

  “Very.... Uh....” Cody searched for a nice word to describe the room. It tried too hard to be open and inviting and ended up rather stifling.

  “Obnoxious?” Sophie finished for him. “I was going to say welcoming.”

  “You were going to lie.”

  “Through my teeth.” Cody agreed, a smile playing on his lips.

  Sophie laughed, and her eyes sparkled. She opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted. “Sophie!” The voice was muffled by the walls between them, but was unmistakable.

  “That’ll be my dad...” Sophie said unnecessarily. “I’d better go see what he wants. I should probably leave you to settle in anyway.” She smiled sheepishly at him, and took off down the hall, a slight bounce in her step.

  Chapter Three

  Cody was rummaging through his new room, he had neglected to pack; at all. However, seeming to anticipate this issue, the drawers had been stocked ahead of time.

  He pulled out garment after garment, wondering idly if Sophie had had a hand in picking out the clothes. Surely if she had, there would be much less formal wear included in the selection.

  He could at least fit in all the clothes. Lucky he had posted his sizes on his website. He had gotten far too many emails asking what size the costume needed to be in.

  His hand brushed something hard, and he pulled it out, surprised. He was holding a small black book. It was simple, adorned with nothing but the initials “S.S” on the cover. He sat down on what was for now his bed and opened it. It was hand written. The writing was scratchy and impatient.

  This was, he realized, Sophie’s diary. He turned to a random entry and began reading, ignoring the stab of guilt that followed.

  “She’s hidden the knives again. Does she think I’m going to pull them out to play with them? I’m just surprised she hasn’t gated the stairs yet. I need to be getting ready for college, but I don’t even know if she’ll let me go. She gets this funny little twitch in her eye every time I mention SATs. It’d be funny if it weren’t so annoying! I just wish she’d take me seriously for once.... I shudder to think what she’d say if I told her I want to be a doctor. She’d probably just pat me on the head. At least I still have my books! I’m reading this new one, it’s called ‘A Lady’s Favor’. Mark’s so amazing, no wonder Beatrice just goes ahead and marries him even though her parents don’t want her to..... Uh-oh, that’ll be the warden calling. Better go.”