With an Extreme Burning

“Amy,” she said, “am I sick?”

“No. You'll be okay, really.”

“Why can't I go home?”

“Um, your doctor says you have to stay here for a while.”

“Doctors. What do they know?”

Amy laughed. She had a nice laugh, sweet. Such a pretty girl, almost as pretty as her mother, but with Chet's features. I wish I'd had a little girl, Eileen thought. Not that I'd trade the boys, but … the boys …

Cecca. So many people visiting but not Cecca. Why hadn't she come back?

“Where's your mom, Amy?”

“Right now? I don't know.”

“She was here but she didn't come back.”

“Yes, she did. Yesterday. But you were asleep.”

“Did Dix tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“The accident. The trophy.”

“I don't know what you mean, Mrs. Harrell.”

“The trophy Katy saw.”

“Katy Mallory?”

“But she wouldn't say where.”

“What kind of trophy?”

“I told Dix about the accident. Did I tell him about the trophy?”

“What accident? You mean his wife's?”

“Pelican Bay.”

“Pelican Bay? Where's that?”

“Oregon. Oregon coast.”

“Oh, right. Isn't that where you and Mom almost … that's the accident you mean. Does that have something to do with what happened to Mrs. Mallory?”

“Tell your mom. Amy? Tell your mom.”

“I will. Right away.”

Eileen closed her eyes. It was only for a few seconds, didn't seem like any longer, and yet when she opened them Amy was gone and the blinds were closed again—somebody had come in and closed the blinds. She'd been asleep. But she wasn't rested. She was even more tired. Her mouth was sandy and her head ached and she was all twitchy. No, worse than that. Frightened. Terrified.

The memory clouds were still massing. And now they were huge, bloated. She could feel the expanding pressure inside her head, as if they would burst any second … like the horror in her mind that had burst at the lake … get away, get away! But it was too late. She couldn't move, couldn't hide, there was nothing to do but lie there, whimpering, afraid, and wait for the deluge.

She was about to remember something monstrous.

* * *

Mom wasn't at Better Lands. Amy found her at home, in her bathroom upstairs, wearing a robe and combing out her damp hair. There was a big bandage over the palm of her right hand. And the bathroom was steamy and hot, almost like a sauna; she must have been in the tub for hours.

“What'd you do to your hand?”

“Cut it. It's not serious.”

“So I guess you're getting ready to go to Dix's again.”

“Yes.” Mom stopped brushing, gave her one of those searching looks. “Does it bother you, Amy?”

“Does what bother me?”

“That I've been spending so much time with Dix Mallory.”

“Why should it? He's got the same crap to deal with that we have—more, on account of Katy. Besides, you think I don't know adults get horny?”

“Amy, my sex life is none of your business.”

Right, Amy thought. Just like mine is none of your business.

“Is it serious?” she asked.

“My relationship with Dix? It could be. That's why I asked if it bothered you, my seeing so much of him lately.”

All of him, you mean. “I told you it doesn't. It's been a long time since you and Dad got divorced. You need somebody and he needs somebody. Everybody needs somebody.”

“You like Dix, don't you?”

“He's okay.”

But boring. Mom's speed. Boy, am I bitchy today, she thought. Bitchy and snotty to everybody. That's what happens when your life turns to shit. You get shitty, too.

Mom asked, “Why are you here anyway? Clean clothes?”

“No. I've been looking for you.”

“Why?”

“I saw Eileen. I went to the hospital after work.”

“That was good of you, baby. How is she?”

“Still pretty much out of it. She said some stuff … I don't know, maybe it's important. She wanted me to tell you.”

Amy had worked to develop the skills she would need as an investigative reporter; she repeated the conversation with Eileen word for word. Mom was frowning when she was done.

“You're sure Eileen said Pelican Bay?”

“Positive. That's where you almost had the accident, right? You and Eileen and Katy?”

“Yes. But that was four years ago …”

“What did she mean about Katy seeing a trophy?”

“I don't know.”

“Well, it must be what Eileen remembered last Sunday. The reason she called from Blue Lake.”

“It must be, but—” Mom put her brush down, hurried into the bedroom. From the doorway Amy watched her take off her robe and start getting dressed. “I need to think about this. Talk to Dix about it.”

“I'll go with you.”

“To Dix's? No, I want you to go straight to Gran and Gramps's and stay there. I'll call you later.”

“Why? I'm part of this, too.”

“I know, baby, I know.”

“Then why do you want to shut me out of it?”

“I don't. It's just that—”

“Just that you think I'm too young.”

“No, it isn't that.”

“Sure it is,” Amy said cuttingly. “You think I'm too young, I'm not responsible enough, I can't help make adult decisions. That's bullshit, Mom.”

“Amy, please. I haven't kept anything from you, have I? I haven't tried to shield you from the truth. Doesn't that tell you I think you're adult enough to handle it?”

“Then why do you keep trying to shove me off on Gran and Gramps?”

“For your own good, that's why. Will you please just do as I ask? No more arguments? We'll talk later, after I get this sorted out.”

“After you and Dix get it sorted out, you mean.”

“That's enough. Go. Straight to Gran and Gramps's. Promise me.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Downstairs, Amy saw that her mother had left her purse and car keys on the front hall table. She just hated being treated like a kid, pushed aside, left out; it made her wild. She was an adult—an adult! She took the pencil and notepad out of the drawer, wrote Mom: In case you run out, and set the pad next to