The Unwanted (Black Water Tales Book 2) (13 page)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“W
hat? Andre?” Blaire spoke adjusting herself to a sitting position, waiting for clarity in her sight.

“Can you read this to me?” he asked holding up a red children’s book.

“Of course,” Blaire said.

Andre snuggled against her as she read. He stared intently at the pages as she flipped through them, but she was delighted at the fact that he was powerless to keep a smile from spreading across his face at particular points in the story. Yet by the end of the book, Andre was unresponsive and staring at the far wall of the room.

“Why are you here?” Andre asked again.

Blaire was unsure of how to answer this question, but she did her best. “I am here because I like helping children and the workers at St. Sebastian need help. There are not enough workers here to make sure that all of your needs are met, so nurse Wells and I are here to make sure that you don’t get sick and to make sure that you are learning.”

“Why am I here?” he then wanted to know. Though his second question was as clear as his first, her answer to a question that was essentially why do some parents not want their children or why do people die, and why is life unfair would be much more complicated. Blaire had no answers for those questions. Those were questions for the philosophers, the people who saw the world as a whole machine, working together as one
all
-knowing entity with moving, feeling parts churning toward the greater good. This was not a question for people like her, who just lived one day at a time pondering the frail workings of moments from one to the next. The world barely made sense to people like her.

“It’s because I am weak,” he said as he began to rock himself back and forth, not noticing his own unconscious movement.

“No.” Blaire shook her head. “That’s not true.”

“I’m not strong like other kids.”

“You are very strong, Andre.”

“No, I’m not like other kids, and that is why they don’t want me. I wouldn’t want me either. Maybe I should not have been born. Maybe it was a mistake.”

“Just because you don’t understand everything right now does not mean that everything doesn’t make perfect sense. One day you will open your eyes and know exactly why you’re here, do you understand?” Blaire explained.

“But I have no one…not even parents.”

“Doesn’t matter. Parents are wonderful, but even without them you are valuable.”

Andre looked up at her, and she hoped that she was convincing, considering she had no idea if the words that were coming out of her mouth were true. She hoped that they were for Andre’s sake and for her own.

Instantly, Blaire was back in that horrible place again, that fiery hell, and she wanted to move, but her feet were cemented into the ground. One of the men standing close to her disregarded the warning of the man in the blue shirt and dashed toward the accident. Her mother was still alive, but she had stopped screaming, stopped fighting. She pulled her free leg back into the car, and then did something that Blaire did not understand, she closed the door.

“Uh,” Blaire stuttered, finding herself face to face with Andre again. “Uh, you’re here because your parents were not in a position to take care of you. They needed help, and they thought it would be best for you to come here.”

“If the people here are helping my parents and you are helping the people here, who is going to help you?” he asked before gathering his book and lumbering off into the hall without waiting on her answer.

Blaire got up from the couch and started to go after him when she was blinded by a flash as she entered the hall. There was laughter, and then another blinding flash.

“Danya,” Blaire called, struggling to regain her sight. The little girl held up a handful of instant photos.

“Your pictures?” Blaire’s eyes were still seeing white spots, but she tried hard not to sound irritated. Blaire opened the packet and stared at the first photograph. It was a haunting image of Dariya standing by the
life
-size Virgin Mary statue in the backyard. The girl was wearing the same dress that she and her twin wore almost daily, and her hair was tossed about in its usual chaotic manner. There appeared to be a flaw in the photograph as one of Dariya’s eyes was stretched out of place, deforming her true image. In the second photograph, Lorna loomed in the background while Vesna stared menacingly at the camera as she helped Andre up the stairs. Vesna was wearing her usual wicked scowl and her features were not out of place; yet the same deformity of light or film plagued this photo as well, as her mouth was drawn up at a weird angle that made her look like a bizarre twin of herself. Quickly, Blaire flipped through the remaining photographs and saw that the same deformity afflicted a different person in each image. When Blaire came to the last picture, all the others fell from her hand in a snowfall of flawed reflections as her attention turned to this image. In the photo Blaire was next to Ivan whose face was completely lost in a misshapen swirl. Blaire saw her image and it appeared almost normal, but she could see it. She pulled the photograph closer to her eyes and there it was, just the tiniest bit of a flaw beginning to develop there on her face.

Blaire’s trembling hand had trouble gathering the photographs from the floor and tucking them back into the package. She handed it all back to the girl with a slight smile before heading hastily toward the stairs.

Vesna rooted herself in Blaire’s path. “Ms. Baker.”

“Goodnight,” Blaire said, walking around the woman who she assumed was heading out for the evening.

“Ms. Baker,” Vesna called again. “What happened on the roof with Ivan?”

Blaire rolled her eyes as she turned to face the woman. “You know what happened.”

“What did he say to you?” Vesna asked, a splenetic glare climbing out of her face like a
multi
-legged alien crawling out of the cockpit of its downed vessel.

“Ivan? He didn’t
say
anything, Vesna,” Blaire lied. “Why do you ask?”

There’s something in the basement
,
Blaire heard the boy’s voice echoing through the tunnels of her mind. Vesna narrowed her eyes and her thin, maroon lips which created a fractal of frenzied lines across her face.

“He’s not well,” Vesna stated firmly. “You do know that?”

Blaire cocked her head.

“I thought I heard voices out here,” Anya said, stepping out of the playroom before Blaire could respond to Vesna’s enigmatic question. Vesna turned away from both women, tightened her jacket, repositioned her overnight bag on her shoulder and headed toward the front door.

“Goodnight, Vesna,” Anya called out to the departing woman who gave no response.

“Goodnight, Vesna,” Blaire added with the most unnoticeable of taunts.

Anya turned her inextinguishable enthusiasm toward Blaire.

“What do you know about St. Sebastian?” Blaire asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean about the history or just anything out of the ordinary.”

Anya shrugged before speaking, “I know an old man used to live here when it was a house. When he died, he left it to a woman named Magda and her daughter, Anastasia.”

“Do they still have family in Borslav?” Blaire asked.

“Oh no, I think they were from somewhere up around Slokivka, and they brought some family down from there a long time ago, but none of them are around anymore, that I know of. Why do you ask?”

“What about the basement?”

Anya swallowed hard. “What about it?”

“What’s down there?”

“Oh, I don’t know, old stuff, I suppose.”

“I was thinking that maybe I should have a look down there and see if I can find supplies for my classroom. Do you have a key?”

Anya hesitated for a long time before she spoke, “No, I don’t. I need to get back to the children.”

Blaire stood alone in the hall for a few seconds before making her way up the stairs. On the second floor, she heard bouts of rambunctious giggling. Amber light flooded the hallway giving a direct path to the older girls’ room. There Blaire spotted three girls sitting on one of the beds, with Travis standing in front of one of them, Natalka.

“Ms. Baker,” one of the girls called out. Travis turned to see Blaire and immediately stepped from in front of Natalka revealing his work. Her eyes were painted with a soft pink eye shadow, her cheeks the color of roses and her lips the color of bubblegum. Travis laid on the finishing touches with a mascara wand.

“You look gorgeous,” Blaire complimented.

“Thank you,” Natalka and Travis spoke in unison.

Blaire laughed, noticing that the other girls were made up as well. “All of you look really great, except for you, of course, Travis.”

“I know I’m hideous,” he responded playfully. Travis went back to Natalka’s eyes with the wand, and Blaire lay across one of the other beds. On the floor in the corner, Danya painted her sister’s eyelids with a purple shadow to match her dress.

“I look like one of the girls in the films,” Natalka said, gushing with childlike pride. She grabbed a magazine from the bed, flipping several pages and handing it to Blaire.

Blaire reviewed the pale girl on the glossy page with her dark hair and striking brown eyes. Her skin was creamy and flawless while her lips flaunted soft curves and a poutiness that would not have allowed anyone to miss the fact that she was a movie star. Blaire looked back to Natalka, who looked tired and frail. Her eyelids were heavy with a consistent supply of tears, ready to flow at any moment, and her eyes carried dark circles underneath that would have made
The Addams Family
cringe. She was beautiful, but looked nothing like a movie star.

“Spitting image!” Blaire declared.

Lorna and another girl entered the room and were offered greetings by everyone except Danya and Dariya. They followed Lorna closely as she crossed to the far side of the room by the dresser.

Natalka went to the mirror to admire herself, while Blaire watched Travis work on one of the other girls for a few moments before she heard a disagreement taking place between Lorna and Natalka. Blaire got off the bed and started toward the girls just as Natalka grabbed Lorna’s arm furiously.

“What’s going on?” Blaire asked, removing Natalka’s fierce grip which caused the little container of blue eye shadow to clatter to the floor.

“She’s stealing,” Natalka accused.

Lorna nodded from left to right.

“Lorna, this is Natalka’s makeup. Nurse Wells bought it for her, but the next time I go to the Dobish Market, I will get you one, okay?” Blaire said to the little girl before she turned to the older one. “She just wanted to look at it, Natalka. That’s all. She wasn’t stealing.”

Dariya and Danya sat quietly in the corner, one watching and the other listening. “She’s not even supposed to be here,” Natalka said with a growl. “I don’t want her touching my stuff.”

“The little girls just want to hang out in the big girl room from time to time,” Blaire explained. Natalka rolled her eyes as Lorna fled into the hall.

When it was time for bed, Blaire and Travis headed for the third floor. “That was really nice of you,” Blaire commented.

“I’m sure I had more fun than they did,” Travis confessed.

Blaire was quiet.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m still upset and confused about what happened with Ivan.”

“It must have been terrible,” Travis sympathized.

When they reached the third floor, Blaire stopped and made sure they were alone.

“What is it?” Travis asked.

She took a deep breath. “When we were on the roof, Ivan said to me that there is something in the basement.”

Travis frowned. “Something like what?”

“I don’t know,” she finally replied, somewhat irritated by the fact that Travis was failing to recognize the inherent eeriness of it all or maybe she was irritated that she was so quick to make the
far
-fetched recognition.

“I’m sure that there
is
something in the basement…after all, that’s what basements are for, storage and somethings and such.”

“No, not like that, something like…a…a…” Blaire said, trying to conjure an idea that justified her alarm.

“…like a pirate?” Travis whispered.

“A what?”

“A pirate,” Travis repeated.

“Why would there be a pirate in the basement?”

“Exactly!” Travis triumphed. “…or anything equally ridiculous.”

Blaire sighed.

“Look Blaire, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but there is nothing in the basement besides dusty old furniture and pictures and stuff. The same thing that is in every basement.”

“But why would he say that?”

“Because he’s a kid, and kids have wild imaginations.”

Both Travis and Blaire froze at the faint whispers that floated into the hall from room 3C. She realized they were not alone, as someone stepped out of the room.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“I
van, what are you doing up here?” Blaire asked, immediately recognizing the child. “Are you okay?”

Ivan nodded.

“I’m turning in. Goodnight, Ivan.” Travis ruffled the boy’s hair before continuing toward their room.

“Ivan, I wanted to tell you that I am sorry for what happened up on the roof. I am so sorry that I put you in danger. Nothing like that will ever happen again,” Blaire promised.

“There is danger,” he informed her as his gaze wandered to the discolored rectangle on the wall, where Blaire assumed a picture had once hung.

“Ivan?” Blaire called to the boy who seemed far away.

“Everyone gather around, and I am going to tell a story,” he said. “You too, Ida.” Ivan looked at someone behind Blaire, and she could feel cool air at her back. Craning her neck slowly, Blaire looked to see what hovered behind her, but it seemed she and Ivan were alone.

Blaire sighed.
Maybe Travis was right, this was ridiculous.
She smiled lightly and said, “C’mon, Ivan. I’m going to put you to bed.” Blaire pressed her hand firmly into his back. The boy winced.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he responded. She touched his arm lightly, and he reeled back in pain once again. Instinctively, Blaire lifted his shirt and gasped at the dark gray and purple bruise that covered his right flank. Pulling his shirt off over his head, she inspected his body and found another deep bruise on his back.

“What happened to you?” Blaire asked.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Ivan, you tell me what happened now!”

“I fell.”

“You fell on your back and your side?”

He nodded.

Blaire stared at him blankly, and then took another look at the bruises.

“Are you sure you fell, Ivan? You can tell me,” Blaire said.

“I am positive.”

“Did Vesna do this to you?” she asked in a pleading whisper.

“No, I fell,” the boy repeated.

Blaire looked into his eyes and tried to see what was happening inside, but it was like looking into a broken kaleidoscope, as it didn’t make any sense at all.

“Let’s have Travis take a look at this and make sure you are okay,” she finally announced.

Travis examined the contusions and assured her that there was no
long
-term damage and that the boy would be fine. After Ivan repeated to Travis that he had only fallen, and it was nothing more sinister than that, Blaire put him to bed.

“It wasn’t Vesna,” the boy said again.

“I believe you,” Blaire said as she kissed his cool forehead and left the room making sure to lock the door behind her.

On the third floor, Blaire found herself standing in the middle of the dark vacant room, 3C, and she got on her knees to look under the bed. Next, she looked in the closet, but there was nothing there either. Blaire stood at the threshold of the bedroom door and turned toward the hallway. Again, she noticed the light rectangle on the hall wall. Something had once been there that was now gone. Upon first seeing the space on the wall, she assumed that it was a photograph, but the longer more rectangular shape made her think twice. There were likely many things that were once at St. Sebastian that were now gone. Blaire looked back at the room once again and decided to accept that there was nothing there.