Chapter Ten: Lois Adler's Point of View

Chapter Ten:

            Mallory lies there in the fetal position next to Mary, both of them soundless.

            Nothing, Mallory’s mind whispers.

            Mary’s mind, however, screams the words over and over.  Malcolm is dead.

            Violet is thinking about her little search for Colette.  Katie is sitting there on the floor stroking Mallory’s hair, thinking about how it must feel to lose your brother.  Scarlett is in the kitchen doing whatever.

            Grace’s face shows sympathy.  She just stands where she was when Mary came running in, but I can’t get a clear read on her mind, like bad radio reception.  Only snippets.  Nothing definite.

            “Can someone bring her to her bed?” I say, referring to Mallory. 

            “I got it,” Katie says, and carries Mallory up the stairs. 

            The pig runs around in circles. 

            Violet throws herself onto the couch.  Should I stay? She thinks.  Mallory needs me, she thinks, but also, Colette needs me, too, though.      

            I believe that she’s going to stay.  Since it’s only about noon, we can’t exactly go to sleep.  I decide to go see if Luna’s around.  I tell everyone this, and listen to the various mental responses of the three other people in the room, and the one person in the kitchen.

            That’s not a very good idea, Violet thinks, What if they drop another wave of bombs?

            Malcolm is dead, Mary thinks.

            What—nd o—id—s tha—?  Whatev—ts yo—oat, Loui—, Grace thinks.

            Where is the vanilla? Scarlett thinks.

            I walk out the door and take a deep breath of the smoky-smelling air.  Luna’s parents’ house is the next row of cabins behind ours.  I walk around the side of our cabin, running my hand along the side, across the scorch marks.  I see the cabin that used to be next to ours, the all-Ivy one reduced to rubble, but I can just make out the thoughts of several people, so I don’t bother to check for bodies.  Not that I have the courage or the stomach to in the first place. 

            I reach the walkway in front of the right cabin which is, strangely, unscathed except for scorch marks, also, I notice, the door is broken in.  I walk inside.  The cellar door is open. 

            “Luna?” I call.  “Mrs. Speisshofer? Lyla?”

            No answer.  I look down into the cellar.  Nothing down there.  I decide that they’ve probably left already, because I don’t hear thoughts that sound like Luna or her family.   I walk back to our cabin, my home for the last six years.  Katie is scrawling away a message on a sheet of paper.

            “What’s that?” I ask. 

            “It’s a message for Violet.  She’s locked herself in the bedroom.  I can’t get her to come out,” Katie replies.  I never noticed how strong her Australian accent was until now.  Weird.

             The message says something about how leaving isn't a good idea and it asks how Mallory is doing.

            I laugh a bit, but it dies.  “It’s the thought that counts.”

            “Yeah, so um, I’m going to go put this under the door,” Katie says as she picks up the paper and folds it.  Then she walks upstairs and slides the note under the door. 

            I hear Violet’s thoughts.  She’s writing, I can tell that.

            A few minutes later, Katie, who was waiting by the door for Violet’s reply, comes down the stairs and hands me a note.  “What do you make of that?”

            I’m leaving and you can’t stop me.  I won’t tell you when or anything.  But just know that.  Also, Mallory’s conscious but she’s just sitting there with her knees scrunched up to her chest hugging herself.  She’s not even crying….  Just thought I’d tell you about my leaving.

            “Well, it certainly is something,” I tell Katie. 

            “Hey, Grace,” I say, “can you write something for me?”

            “Yeah, what is it?” Grace replies, coming over to me.

            “Tell Violet the story about what will happen when she leaves, or at least say something about it.  She needs to stay here and I can’t think of anything else to do,” I explain to her.

            “On it,” she says.  She pulls one of those multicolored pens from her pocket and starts writing.  She hands me the note a minute or two later.  “Will this suffice?”

       Grace's message says something about how Violet will sort of find Colette but something bad will happen on her trip.

       I nod and go upstairs to slip the note under the door.  Violet immediately pushes another note under the door, but this one’s in Mallory’s handwriting.

          It tells us to stop bugging Violet because it's her choice.

          I don’t do anything but say through the door, “Okay.  I’m done.”