Chapter 6 - Midnight Visitor

“Mikayla Reed!  Where have you been all this time?  I was so worried!”

Mikayla ignored Anna-Marie standing in the entry, as she did the throbbing of her arm with the new cuts she had delicately carved and wrapped up.  No one would notice them underneath her long sleeves, leather jacket and gloves.  They weren’t meant to be seen.

She put her helmet up on the shelf above the jackets in the closet as Anna-Marie spouted off words of “concern” and “what ifs”.

Seriously?  Who did Mikayla have to be afraid of?  Some random stranger coming up to her and try to mug her, or rape her?  Geez, if anything, muggers and rapists should be scared of her.

Mikayla brushed past her as she continued to harp.

That only frustrated her more.  “Excuse me?  I am talking to you!”

“You don’t need to concern yourself about my wellbeing,” Mikayla mumbled as she slipped through the kitchen and headed towards the stairs.

Anna-Marie was hot on her tail.  “In this household, you will tell me where you will be after school and what time I can expect you home!  Want me to report this to the board?  I gladly will if you don’t respect the rules of this house!”

“Fine, whatever.”

Anna-Marie stood there fuming as Mikayla disappeared upstairs.

Mikayla was only mildly annoyed.  She understood where Anna-Marie was coming from, but it was completely unnecessary.  She was practically an adult and fully capable of looking after herself.  How would she react when her own kids became teenagers?  She needed to loosen up.  Just because she was legally responsible for Mikayla for as long as she was living in her house didn’t mean she had to have complete control over her life.

She glanced out the window as she stepped into her bedroom.  Crimson light revealed the setting of the sun.  The days were getting shorter and shorter, and the darkness longer than she liked.  

She went to the window and stared outside at the red sky momentarily.

Sure, she had been in the desert all afternoon and left around five o’clock, but she came back before it got dark.

She always came back before it got dark.

She drew the curtains closed.

Dinner should be ready soon and she suspected that her foster mother wouldn’t offer her a plate as punishment.  That was fine.  Mikayla was used to hunger.  And scavenging.

Sitting down at her desk, she pulled out her sheets of homework from the back pocket of her pants.  Smoothing out the creases as she unfolded it, she got to work on her essay for her politics class.

Secretly, Mikayla was very studious and dedicated to her studies.  While out in the desert, she had completed most of her homework and left everything in the storage compartment on her bike.  Tomorrow she would bring her black cloth shoulder bag to carry her textbooks in.  She had established herself as a badass, now she could carry her school supplies more comfortably.

Growing up, she was unable to play with the other children on the reserve.  She was always kept inside amá sání’s small one-bedroom house with the curtains drawn and guests kept to a bare minimum. 

Naturally, there was little to do to pass the time than to study (she was home-schooled), read, and draw.  She learned how to sew with a machine and by hand, making her own clothes and repairing them when there were pulls or tears.  Her grandmother had a small garden in her backyard, where she grew a few vegetables and herbs for their own consumption.  Mikayla had learned how to care for the plants from planting the seeds, to harvesting the fruits, and preparing the soil for the winter frost. 

Snow was common on the reserve, but it never stayed for long.  It lasted just long enough for Mikayla to marvel at the luminous glow from the windows a few times a year.  She tried sketching it, filling pages in the multitude of sketchbooks she had growing up, but could never seem to grasp the exquisite essence of its beauty.

Amá sání had good reasons to keep Mikayla indoors at all times.  It was safer.

Mikayla had finished most of her essay before she called it a night and went to bed.

It wasn’t long before a noise woke her up.  Squinting at the clock on the wall in the dark, she read that it was shortly after midnight.

Her eyes flew to the window when she thought she heard another noise.  The curtains were still drawn, prohibiting a visual of anything beyond, but she knew it was there.  She could feel it.

The calling was unmistakable. It was tugging on her mind, and a dull ache throbbed deep in the marrow of her bones.

A low rumble in her belly demanded her immediate attention.  Realizing her dilemma, she got up from her bed and agreed to not only satisfy her hunger, but to give her body the strength it needed right away.  Her knees wobbled slightly underneath her.

She heard another muffled noise, as if right outside her window, but ignored it.  Instead of going to the window to peek outside, she went to her door and silently crept out.

The hallway tilted from side to side on her, her vision switching between clear and fuzzy in the dark.  Faint snores of Mr. Wright could be heard through the closed door of the master bedroom behind her.  A pale moonlight glow wafted up the stairwell from the main level in front of her.

Without turning any lights on, Mikayla carefully tiptoed down the staircase, gripping the handrail with both hands, and stepped into the moonlit kitchen.  She went to the fridge and searched for some food she could quickly eat.  She found what must have been the leftovers from the dinner she had missed and helped herself.  She only took some mashed potatoes and veggies and ate them at the table.  Without the use of a microwave to disclose her position downstairs, she ate the food cold.  She didn’t mind. 

She could feel her strength returning as she got up from the table with sturdier legs.  Sighing with relief, she cleaned her plate to a soft trickle in the sink.

I’m safe in here, she reminded herself.  Their faith in God will be enough.

She glanced out the window over the sink.

A pair of eyes stared back at her, red and glowing.

Fear washed over her as she blinked and stepped back.

But the eyes were gone.

Rasping breaths filled the room, and she realized they were coming from her.

Had she been seeing things?  Were her eyes playing tricks on her?

At this time of the night, she couldn’t be certain of anything.

She tried to calm herself.  It was just the dark playing tricks on her.  Nothing more.

There was a whisper, so faint and hallow that it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Dread engulfed her again, gripping her heart in a tight squeeze as she drew back from the window even more.

“Mikayla.”  It was beside her.

She looked and clamped her hand over her mouth to keep herself from crying out.

Grace Wright stood in her nightgown at the edge of the kitchen next to the stairwell.  She looked up at Mikayla with confused green eyes.

“G-Gracie?” Mikayla exhaled with relief, but quickly went to the child’s side.  She kept her voice down and asked, “What are you doing down here at this hour?  Don’t you know how late it is?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said.  “I woke up and heard noises.”

Way to go, Mikay.  You woke the little girl up after midnight.  “Yeah, sorry about that.”

She shook her head.  “No, I didn’t hear you at all.  I just came down for a glass of water.”

Mikayla hesitated.  If I didn’t wake her up…  “What exactly did you hear?”

Gracie’s face scrunched up.  “I don’t know.  But it was something outside.”

Fuck.  “I heard it too,” Mikayla said.  “It must have just been a raccoon or something.”

Gracie shook her head as she went to the cupboard to get a glass.  “No, it wasn’t a raccoon.  It was too big.”

Fuck!  Mikayla swallowed.  Did she see it?  Or more importantly, did it see her?

She watched as the nine-year-old girl went to the fridge and pulled the pitcher of filtered water out.  She held the door open with her hip as she poured some water into the glass.

“Careful,” Mikayla said, as she went to the girl’s side and reached for the glass, but stopped herself.

Mikayla wasn’t wearing protection on her hands.

Gracie stared up at Mikayla as if seeing her for the first time.

Mikayla withdrew because she could see it in Gracie’s eyes; she was seeing the real Mikayla.  The gothic-metal clothes were gone, replaced by a simple black tank top and flannel pants.  Her arms were bare, the bandages as clear as day in the moonlit room.  Her contacts were out, revealing her natural eye color.  Worst of all, her guard was down and she had reached out to the girl.

Mikayla stepped back and looked down, allowing her hair to cascade over her face.  She wrapped her arms around herself; she felt naked.

“Mikayla?”

The question hung in the air as Mikayla held herself.

She could feel it.  It was close.  It was calling out to her.

“Get upstairs.  Now.”

Gracie didn’t hesitate.  She heard the definitiveness in Mikayla’s voice, and didn’t argue.  As quietly as she could, she hurried up the staircase with her glass of water.

Mikayla followed behind her, going up the stairs slowly backwards as her eyes shifted over the darkness that filled the house.  A Navajo prayer of protection was whispered between her lips as she climbed up.

Gracie waited for her at the top.  Her eyes were wide open as she stared at Mikayla wordlessly.

Mikayla signaled the girl to go into the pink room.  She carefully closed the door behind her and turned to the girl, still staring silently up at her.

She scowled at the girl, trying to regain her image that everyone associated with her.  It didn’t seem to work.  The child’s mind was already filled with questions.

“What happened to your eyes?”

“What do you mean, ‘what happened to my eyes?’  I wear contact lenses.  This is my natural eye color, okay?”

Gracie shook her head slowly, still fixated on her eyes.  “No, I mean, back there in the kitchen… they were glowing.”

Shit!  Mikayla knew she had to think of a lie fast.  “You know how cats’ eyes reflect light?  It’s like that.  That’s why I wear contact lenses because it’s weird.”

That answer seemed to suffice Gracie’s question as her eyes roamed down to the cloth bandages wrapped around Mikayla’s arms.

Mikayla quickly went to her dresser and pulled on some arm-warmers.

“Why do you do that?”

Mikayla’s back was facing Gracie.  She clamped her eyes shut and slumped forward.  “Don’t ask me that.”

“Why not?”

Mikayla could feel herself trembling.  She had to focus.  Now was not the time to answer questions.

“You’re a good Christian girl, right Gracie?”

“Yeah.”

“You say your bedtime prayers every night?”

“Uh huh.”

“Did you say them before going to bed tonight?”

“Of course.”

“Good girl,” Mikayla said as she turned around to face the girl.  She opened her eyes, but still kept her gaze lowered to the floor.  She couldn't look at her right then.  “I need you to say your bedtime prayers again.”

“Now?”

Mikayla nodded as she went to the bed and sat down.

“Why do I have to say my prayers?”

“Because I’m not a Christian.”

“So?  Become one.”

“I can’t become one.”

“Why not?”

Mikaya sighed.  She’d rather not answer this, but she had already revealed too much of herself to the nine-year-old, why stop now? “There is no forgiveness for what I have done, and for who I am.”

Gracie watched the older girl seemingly crumple up in herself.  She looked so torn, child-like, and very scared of something.  She didn’t understand any of it.  “Who told you that?”

Mikayla just shook her head.  “Never mind that.  Your faith is strong, and I need you to pray right now.”

Gracie hesitated.  “Does this have something to do with that thing outside?”

So she did see it.  Mikayla bit her bottom lip and nodded.

Gracie’s eyes grew large and she fell to her knees immediately and began to pray softy.

Mikayla exhaled in relief.  As the faint words whispered over her, she could feel the presence dissipating little by little.  She never dared to look out the window.  That was a risk not worth taking, she knew.

When Gracie finished the prayer, she looked up at Mikayla sitting above her on the bed.  “Is it gone now?”

Mikayla nodded.

“What was that thing I saw?”

She hesitated.  What was it indeed?  “Honestly, I don’t know,” Mikayla said.  “I just get a bad feeling when it’s near.”

It was a small lie.  She didn’t know what exactly it was, but she knew it only came out between midnight and three o’clock in the morning.  It lurked in the shadows and fed off of fear.  One thing she had noticed in the last two years was that it was afraid of Christians with strong beliefs in their faith.  Prayer immediately chased them away.  Her Navajo prayers and chants only helped a little, but nothing seemed to work better than the prayer of a devote Christian.

What troubled her was the thought that these things were becoming more frequent visitors in the night.  She wondered what they were and what they wanted.  Were they looking for her?  And if so, why?

Mikayla got up and went to her door.  “You should go to bed now,” she said, her back to the young girl again.

“Can I stay with you?”

Mikayla felt like she was punched in the stomach.  She clutched the door tightly for support.  “No.”

“But I’m scared,” said Gracie as she stepped tentatively closer to Mikayla.

Please… Her heart thudded painfully within.  A lump was forming in her throat and she struggled to swallow it.  “You have to sleep in your room.”

“But Aiden smells funny.”

There was a sad squeeze within Mikayla as she tried to maintain her composure in front of the innocent child.

Why?  Why did I have to get involved with them?  No good will come from this.  No good ever comes from this.

A hand touched her bare arm above her elbow.  She felt the warmth, the electricity, and the instinctual reflexes that jerked her arm away.  She glared at the small brunette, who stared back at her with her large green eyes.

“Go.” 

The command was so low it was a wonder Gracie even heard her.  But she stepped forward and out the door without another word uttered.

Mikayla watched her return to her shared room with her older brother.  She waited until she heard the door close with a soft click before she backed up into her room and closed her own door.

She held herself as she went to her bed and slipped the arm warmers off.

Despite the near pitch-blackness of her room, she could see everything clearly.  The dresser, the desk, her pillows, the creases in the bed sheet…

I’m sorry Gracie…

I can’t be your friend.  I can’t be someone you can look up to.  I can’t give you hugs, or kisses…

I can’t do anything that will tarnish your innocence.

I don’t deserve it, but please… 

I have to protect you.