Kevin O'Brien - One Last Scream

After four months with Amelia in therapy, Karen still didn’t have a handle on her. What kind of therapist was she anyway? Even with all she’d uncovered about Amelia’s childhood, Karen still felt as if she didn’t really know her. It baffled her that little Amelia had fled from Clay’s house the way she had that day. Besides her twin, he’d been her only friend, and she’d run away from him, screaming.

“The Wenatchee Public Library is now closing,” a woman announced over the public address system. “We will be open again tomorrow at 10 A.M. Please exit through the front doors. Thank you and have a nice evening.”

Slump-shouldered, Karen wandered toward the front of the library. She wasn’t sure about what to do, except maybe call the state police. She could give them a description of Amelia, and Shane’s car, and then ask them to look for a motorist in trouble on Highway 2, somewhere between Grand Coulee Dam and Wenatchee.

A little blond girl, who apparently didn’t want to leave the library, was screaming and crying as her father dragged her toward the exit. Karen held the door open for him. He nodded at her, muttered “Thank you,” then finally scooped the screaming, squirming kid into his arms. Karen watched them walk down the library steps. She thought about how Lon Schlessinger had handled that same situation by throwing the hysterical child in her room and locking the door.

She remembered what Miriam had told her about Lon taking Annabelle with him on his aborted trip to the police station that Sunday afternoon fifteen years ago: “He said he didn’t even make it to the police station, because Annabelle started pitching a fit. None of us could figure out what was wrong with her.”

Karen hiked up the collar to her trench coat and started down the library steps. She could still hear that little girl screaming as her father carried her to their car, halfway down the block. Karen suddenly stopped dead. The rain was stronger now, but she didn’t move. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “He never went to the police station. He went and switched the twins.”

It was exactly as Naomi Rankin had said: “There’s a difference between what people saw that day and what’s true. I’m certain of that.”

Annabelle had been the cooperative twin, the one their father had had on a tight leash. She’d pretended to be her sister that afternoon.

It was a skill she would hone later as a young adult.

Ignoring the rain, Karen stood on the sidewalk. Behind her, the lights inside the library went off. All she could think about was Amelia, struggling in her father’s arms as she’d been smuggled out of Clay’s house, dressed in her sister’s clothes. Karen could almost hear her screams, until her father had clasped his hand over her mouth and locked her in her room. And from her bedroom window, Amelia might have seen everything that had happened down the block at her friend Clay’s house. She might have even seen her father gun him down.

No wonder they’d found it necessary to get rid of the child after that. She’d been too rebellious. She’d seen too much.

No wonder Amelia had blocked out all memory of her family-a demented, violent, serial-killer father, an ineffectual mother, and the twin sister who had betrayed her.

Karen suddenly realized her cell phone was ringing. She grabbed it and checked the caller ID. She didn’t recognize the number, but the area code was local: 509. “Hello?” she said into the phone.

“Karen, it’s Amelia….”

“Oh, thank God,” Karen said. “Where have you been?”

“I’m sorry. Are you still waiting for me at the library in Wenatchee?”

“Yes. Didn’t you get any of my calls?”

“No. Something must be wrong with the frequency, because I tried to phone you several times, but it didn’t answer. It didn’t even go to voice mail.”

“Where are you, honey?” Karen asked.

“Well, I feel like such a lamebrain. I decided to try a different way back, and ended up getting lost. I totally overshot Wenatchee, and then Shane’s car broke down. It’s been a nightmare….”

“Where are you now? I’ll come pick you up.”

“Well, I ended up getting a tow from this garage my dad used to go to near Lake Wenatchee. They were about to close, so I asked one of the guys there to give me a lift to this little restaurant near our lake house.”

“You mean Danny’s Diner?” Karen asked.

“Yeah. How do you know about Danny’s Diner?”

“I was there earlier today,” Karen said. She started walking toward her car. “I’ll explain when I see you. Listen, this is important, okay? Have you had a-premonition about something happening at George’s house?”

There was silence on the other end.

Karen stopped in her tracks. “Amelia?”

“Um, I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Have you had any feeling that something’s wrong at George’s house, something with Jessie or the children?”

“No. Why are you asking?” There was a little panic in her voice. “Karen, are they okay?”

“Um, for now, I think they’re all right.” Karen hurried toward her car. “I’ll be at the diner in about thirty minutes. And please, please, don’t go anywhere, Amelia. I need your help with something, and it’s very important. We have a lot to talk about, too.”

“Does it have anything to do with why you’re in Wenatchee?”

“Sort of,” Karen said, climbing inside her car. She shut the door and started up the ignition. “I’ll explain when I get there. I promise.”

She switched on the wipers and headlights. She didn’t hear anything on the other end of the line. “Amelia?”

“If you were at Danny’s Diner, you must have gone to the lake house,” she said. “Were you looking for evidence that I was there the night everyone was killed?”

“Amelia, I know you weren’t at the lake house that night.” Karen pulled out of the parking spot, and started down the road. The highway on-ramp was two blocks ahead. “Stop blaming yourself for that, and for a lot of other things,” she said, “even things dating back to your early childhood.”

“My God, you found out about my real parents, didn’t you? Are they still alive?”

Karen didn’t answer. It wasn’t something she wanted to tell her over the phone.

“Karen, please. For God’s sake, don’t make me wait. Alive or dead, I’m not going to fall apart if you tell me now. I don’t even remember them. I’d just like to know. Are they alive?”

“No, honey, I’m sorry. They’re both dead.”

“Were they dead when the Faradays adopted me?”

“No, they were alive at the time. Amelia, I’ll explain it all when I get there.”

“Do you know why they gave me up?”

“I have a pretty good idea, now,” Karen admitted. “But I’d rather not talk about it over the phone. Besides, I’m just about to get on the freeway. I need to hang up. Just stay there and wait for me. We have a long drive back to Seattle. I’ll tell you everything then.”

“Karen?” she said, a sudden urgency in her tone.

“What is it?”

“Earlier just now, you asked if I had any premonitions about something happening at Uncle George’s house….”

“Yes?” Karen said, her grip tightening on the steering wheel.

“Well, I’ve had this awful feeling most of the night that someone’s in danger. But it’s not Uncle George, or my cousins, or Jessie. I keep thinking something bad is going to happen to you , Karen. Please, be careful. Okay?”

“Well, I–I will be. Thanks,” Karen managed to say. She swallowed hard, and then started onto the highway on-ramp. “Just stay put and I’ll see you soon.”

“All right,” she said. “Good-bye, Karen.”