Chevy Stevens - Always Watching

I considered his offer, but even if I was able to get Lisa out of the building, she’d take one look at Kevin and think I set her up. “Thanks, but I should go alone. She’ll respond better.” I rose to my feet. “I should get back to work.”

“Okay, shoot me an e-mail later so I know you’re not in a ditch somewhere.” His words were joking, but his face was serious.

“Sure.” I was surprised that I was pleased at the idea of someone worrying about me. I’d forgotten what it felt like to be accountable. “Thanks for the talk.”

“Anytime.”

I glanced back as I left the cafeteria. Kevin was staring down at his mug, looking lost in thought.

After work, I had a shower, then dressed in casual clothing, careful to remove my earrings and all jewelry, and made my way back to the Monkey House. I’d wanted to hit it earlier in the evening, before it got dark. I sat in my car, watching the comings and goings. Maybe it would’ve been a good idea to bring Kevin, but it was too late now. I grabbed my iPhone, holding it ready in my hand—and kept my other on the bottle of mace in my right pocket. Then, locking the car behind me, twice, I made my way into the house.

A few people stopped what they were doing and stared at me, clustered in little groups, their eyes vacant, reminding me of zombies in some horror film. When I got to the room where I had found Lisa before, it was empty. I stared at the bare mattress, fear shooting through my body. Maybe she’d just changed rooms. A woman’s voice close behind me said, “You looking for your daughter?”

I spun around. It was the First Nations woman from the day before.

She held out a hand. “Give me some money, and I’ll tell you where your girl’s at.”

I had left my purse at home, tucking only the bare essentials from my wallet into my jeans. I pulled out a twenty. She motioned for more. I shook my head. “It’s all I have.”

She snatched it out of my hands. “She left with those people from the center.”

My vision began to narrow as my heart whooshed in my ears, the scents of the building, unwashed bodies, drugs, and urine, thick in my throat. “Do you mean River of Life?”

“Don’t know what they’re called.” She shrugged, scratching lazily at her arm, her fingernails scraping against one of her sores. She stopped and studied it for a moment, picking at the edges. She looked back at me. “They started coming around, handing out their flyers and shit, trying to cure us.” She laughed. “They sure like your daughter—talked to her a few times.”

Description, just focus and get a description.

“What did they look like?”

Another lazy shrug, staring at my pocket like it might produce more money. I waited, she met my eyes. I stared her down. Finally: “Some old white dude with gray hair and some younger chick.”

My breath stopped in my throat. Did she mean Aaron? “Did you hear them use any names?”

“No—there’s something freaky about them. I tried to warn Lisa, but she wouldn’t listen, said they were going to help her.”

The irony wasn’t lost on me, the drug addict warning my daughter about what wasn’t good for her. I wondered if she’d offered her a hit at the same time.

“Thanks for the information.” I pulled one of my cards out of my pocket and held it out. “If you see her, or if those people come back, call me at this number, please. There’s a reward if the information helps find her.” She snatched the card, peered at it like she was trying to read the words, then tucked it quickly into her armpit, her eyes darting around as if someone might steal it from her.

As soon as I was back in my car, I searched my contacts in my iPhone and found Daniel. I didn’t know if his phone was still in service, but he picked up on the first ring.

“Daniel, it’s Dr. Lavoie. I was wondering if you’re back at the center.”

“No, I’m still finishing that job. They paid me in advance and—”

“I might need your help.” My words rushed out, pushing past all normal pleasantries. “Lisa, my daughter, I think she’s at River of Life.” I heard the name repeat in my head, still couldn’t believe Lisa might be in that place, with Aaron.

A long silence.

I stared back at the run-down building.

“Are you sure?” he said at last.

“No, and that’s what I need to find out.” I gnawed my lower lip, bit it hard. How long had Lisa been using again? It was hard to know if she’d suffer severe withdrawal symptoms. “She’s not well and might need medical treatment. I thought, if you were at the center, or if you knew how to reach anyone inside.”

“Is she sick?”

I didn’t want to share about her addiction. “She’s just gone through a health scare recently, and I want to make sure she’s okay.”

“They don’t give out information about members.”

“So I’ve been told. If you called, would they tell you if she was there?”

“They wouldn’t tell anyone. The whole center runs on the principle that people can leave their past behind and start again.”

Frustration made my voice sound angry as I said, “People should be able to contact someone inside. What if there’s an emergency?”

“You could leave a message.”

“I’ve been told that members are discouraged from communicating with the outside world, family or friends.”

“That’s true. It’s better they stay focused on the workshop. But if you leave a message, and she doesn’t call back, then you know she’s happy there.”

If she didn’t call back, more likely it was because she didn’t want to speak to me. But how would I know if she actually got the message?

Daniel said, “She might not even like it. Lots of people aren’t ready for the program and leave after the first weekend. Nobody’s held against their will.”

He sounded confused, like he didn’t understand why I was so worried. He was right, in some ways. Technically, Lisa could leave any time, but I knew that fasting and no sleep could change someone’s perceptions of reality.

“Maybe, but I’d feel a lot better if I at least knew if she was in there, or still on the streets. If I were to go there myself, what might happen?”

Daniel said, “The registration office is closed at night, but they wouldn’t tell you anything anyway. You’d probably have to make an appointment with Aaron.”

I thought about the report I’d just made with the police, wondered if Aaron would even speak to me and what it might do to my case if he did.

I said, “I don’t think he’ll see me. Do you have any other ideas? I’d feel a lot better if I knew she was okay.”

Another long, echoing silence. Finally, he said, “Give me a couple of days to finish this job, then when I move back, I’ll see if she’s there.”

Despite my desire for knowledge of Lisa, I was still concerned Daniel was making a mistake. “Did you think over everything we spoke about?”

“I’m still going back.” He sounded defensive, then grudging. “If I see her, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I really appreciate this, Daniel.”

There was silence, then he hung up.

After I ended the call, I sat in my car for a while, watching people come and go from the house, debating my options. If I went to the center and made a scene, would they let me see Lisa? Not likely. Even if I did speak to her, would she leave? I thought of how she had forced me out of the flophouse the night before. I just wished I knew if she was okay. I started up my car and drove to the police station. When I explained to an officer what had happened, he just said, “I can appreciate your concern, but your daughter’s an adult. There’s nothing we can do.”