Chapter 1

“Mom walked out on you, dad. What does that say about you?” I wanted to hurt my dad and I always defaulted to my old standby. The fact that mom couldn’t stand my dad so much that she up and left me and my brother without so much as a ‘see you round’ still bothered me even after three months.

I assumed it was that she couldn’t stand my dad and not that she couldn’t cope with my brother or worse, me. I didn’t want to think it could possibly be my fault. But doing that was just so ‘mom’. She had always been about herself. What she wanted. What she needed. Blah blah blah. She told us she loved us but if she did, she had a funny way of showing it.

Dad said he’d spent years trying to change her or at least that’s what he told us when he broke the news that she was gone.

My dad is a weakling. He could have made her stay but he didn’t so it was his fault she was gone. Now his life revolves around his job, making sure we are alive each morning when he gets us up for breakfast and then drinking at night.

He’s what’s called a functioning alcoholic. He makes our meals, does housework, works a full time job and still manages to get drunk every night. As I said, he’s a weakling and mom was probably right to walk out on him. All he could do about it was to start drinking.

“What it says about me is that I have pride,” dad slurred a little. He was really toasted tonight.

“Yeah, I can see that,” I laughed in his face. “Mom would have done anything for you and instead, you let her walk out.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Erin. It wasn’t like that at all. She just needed something I couldn’t provide.”

“That’s what I said, dad. You’re the problem. She’s probably out right now partying and having a real life. Not like you.”

“No she’s not.”

His words stopped me cold. Did dad know where mom is? It had never occurred to me that there might be something he hadn’t shared with us.

“How do you know?” I demanded. I was getting angrier and angrier by the second. “Tell me!” I almost shouted.

“She’s next door with Mr. Johnson,” dad slurred. He looked like he was getting ready to cry. He disgusted me even more at that moment, saying something that was obviously a lie. If mom had been next door I would have known.

“She has NOT been next door for the last three months, dad. You’re just drunk.”

“You’re right, I am. But she’s still next door with Mr. Johnson,” he insisted stubbornly.

“Then why hasn’t she been over here?” I spat the question like it was an accusation.

“She’s not allowed. Mr. Johnson likes to rub that fact in my face. And you’re right, it is my fault. I don’t want you and your brother to blame yourselves anymore. If anyone’s to blame, it’s Mr. Johnson,” dad said, a flickering of fire entering his glazed eyes.

“So why hasn’t she invited us over to see her?” I asked in a more normal voice, hearing the whine in it and hating the way the question had come out.

“She doesn’t want you seeing her like she is now. She wants you to remember her as your mom, not how she is now.”

“How she is now? What does that even mean? Has Mr. Johnson done something to her? Why didn’t you call the police then?”

I still didn’t believe dad but I wanted to poke holes in his lies and he had never wanted to talk about mom before so I wanted to hear what he had to say.

“She went there vol ... vonentry ... voluntarily,” dad said, tripping over his own words until he sounded out the last word slowly.

“And Mr. Johnson won’t let her leave now?” I asked, trying to make sense of what dad was saying.

“He keeps her inside, mostly in a cage, but she’s happy.” The sigh in dad’s voice was audible. It was like he had lost a big fight and had no choice but to accept his loss. He disgusted me.

“WTF, dad. What do you mean a cage? Are you saying he keeps her locked in the house?” Dad mumbled something almost incoherent although it sounded like the word ‘symbolic’ was in there. It was hard to tell. I knew I needed to take charge. To do SOMETHING, even if it was dad’s imagination and the booze talking.

“I want to see mom. Right now. Take us over there right now and prove she’s there,” I demanded again. My demand seemed to wake dad up a little bit.

“I can’t. I’m not allowed. I’ll call and ask tomorrow if you really want me to, but you don’t want that, princess.”

“Don’t tell me what I want, dad. What I want is to see mom!”

“She’s not your mom anymore. She made her choice. And she said she doesn’t want either of you to see her like she is. Mr. Johnson agreed,” dad said in such a way that it was like he was rolling his eyes.

“I don’t give a rip what Mr. Johnson wants. He’s an old creeper anyway. Either we go there now or I’m calling the police,” I bluffed.

Dad’s reaction was almost instantaneous - as much as a drunk can do anything instantaneously. “No police! Damn! Why’d I say anything,” he mumbled the last part to himself. Then he added more clearly, “I won’t stop you from going over there but I’m not going. I’ve already been warned once.

I was so astounded by how the threat of the police had affected him that I unconsciously ignored what he’d said about being warned.

“Pfft. Figures. More interested in your next drink than mom. Then I’m going over there right now. And I’m taking Rich with me. You can come with or you can stay but when I find out you’ve been lying to me you’re gonna be in so much trouble, dad.”

I didn’t know exactly what I planned to do when I confirmed dad was lying but I knew it’d have to be something he wouldn’t quickly forget. Dad is the one person who should never lie to his kids. But he’d been such a letdown since mom left that it hardly seemed worth it to dwell on what I’d do. First, it would be up to me to expose dad’s lies or to rescue mom, either one.

I stalked into the living room and told my brother we were going to go next door.

“Why?” Was his one word question.

“Because dad says mom has been over there the whole time she’s been gone. Don’t you want to see her?”

“Mom? Like in OUR mom?” He asked, stupidly.

“What other mom is there?” I shot back.

“Mom’s been living next door this whole time?”

Rich isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. But then he’s only fourteen. He isn’t grown up like me. It’s amazing how different we are even though there’s not even two years between us.

“Get your coat. It’s cold out tonight,” I told him, glancing towards the kitchen where dad still sat. He looked like he was falling asleep. I wasn’t in the mood to help him stagger next door even if he wanted to and it didn’t look like he did.

My brother was getting excited and I didn’t have the heart to tell him dad was most likely lying. He would have run to the door without bothering with a coat if I hadn’t reminded him.

I grabbed mine off the hook and shrugged into it before opening the front door. At least it wasn’t snowing. We could walk right across our yard and onto Mr. Johnson’s, then up his walk to his front door.

I generally had nothing to do with Mr. Johnson and he kept to himself. I could recognize him and that was about it. But he creeped me out. His eyes were really piercing like he was looking inside you, not just at you.

When Rich and I got to his front door, I suddenly got a case of nerves. I had to physically shake myself out of whatever was going on inside of me and I knocked. Hard.

The porch light came on and I heard the deadbolt snick a few heartbeats later.

“Yes?” I heard from behind the door before it was even opened more than a crack. Then Mr. Johnson’s head came around the door and he saw us standing on his porch.

“Hmm. This is a surprise. Your father finally showing some spine?” He asked. I wasn’t even sure he knew who we were until he said that, not that his words made sense.

“Dad said mom’s over here and has been this whole time. Is that true?” I managed to keep my voice down to a low roar. I still didn’t know if dad had told the truth.

I could see a number of expressions cross his features in quick succession before he answered.

“You take after her, don’t you? I don’t know that you’re ready, though. Anyway, I asked you a question first. Answer it and we’ll go from there.”

“I’m not playing, Mr. Johnson. Is she here or not? Tell me or tell the police when they come. Your choice.”

“Feisty!” Mr. Johnson then laughed in my face. “The police? Really? My mommy went next door and didn’t come home,” he said in a falsetto voice that sounded more like Rich’s than mine. “You need to arrest him for living next door!” He finished with a chuckle. “You know that sounds ridiculous, right?”

“That’s not what I said,” I fumed. “I’m warning you, Mr. Johnson...” I left the end hanging mostly because I didn’t know what my threat would be. Mentioning the police hadn’t worked.

“Did your father send you over or not,” he asked, the chuckle dying as if it had never existed.

“My dad’s drunk. He can’t even wipe his own butt right now.”

I don’t know why I’d said that. Sure it was the truth but Mr. Johnson didn’t need to know it.

“Erin said mom’s here. Is she, mister?” Rich’s voice filled the silence.

“Your mom, no. A slut in training who looks exactly like your mom, yes. Do you want to meet her, young man?”

Mr. Johnson had just looked right through me at Rich and had cut me out of the conversation as easily as looking through a window.

I didn’t know what to do about it. I couldn’t believe Mr. Johnson had just pretty much admitted mom WAS there. Right next door! She’d missed my birthday, mother’s day and Rich’s first b-ball game. Yet she’s been here the whole time.

“Where is she?” Rich asked, excited, not understanding what had just happened or confused by what Mr. Johnson had said.

“Allow me to show you, Rich,” he said and moved out of the entrance so Rich could slip past him. It’d been obvious to me that the invitation had been for Rich, not me, so I had to quickly squeeze past Mr. Johnson too, before he could stop me. Thoughts of what we were doing didn’t really register until a few moments later.

For one, Mr. Johnson clearly hadn’t included me in his invitation. I’d just followed my brother. The only thing on my mind at that moment had been an intuitive responsibility to protect my dumbass brother who hadn’t hesitated for a second.

The second thing is that we didn’t really know anything about the guy except that he was supposedly hosting our mom and I’d even been told that she was being held prisoner in his house. So where was my weapon of self defense? I didn’t have one except for maybe my personality. My friends say I can be downright scary sometimes.

Thirdly, the noise Mr. Johnson made when I slipped wordlessly by him was something like exasperation, but I didn’t care. Boys made those sorts of noises around me all the time and I ignored them. I probably shouldn’t have, with Mr. Johnson, though. His house could have been one big dungeon where my mom was chained to a torture rack or something. In other words, I jumped in when I should have trodden carefully. But that was Rich’s fault for darting in before thinking.