The Misfortune of Distorted Truth

Night

M fell to her knees and wept profusely.
She was terrified.
"Asagwara, please," she cried out. "Please, please, tell me!" M hid her face to muffle her tears. The boy had promised a message.
Really, was all he had to give her a vague warning? What did he mean, she would find out soon? She wanted to know now, before something...something bad happened to her, or Isaac, or Kenji, or anyone else. Even Tess.
M feared for all lives, no matter how small.
"We have to go after him." Her voice wavered. "We've gotta find him, Tully." She wiped the salty water from her cheeks with her sleeve and got to her feet once again. The moon beckoned to her from above with its gentle glow.
The Brussels Griffon rubbed his pleasurable black fluff against M's bare brown ankles. The girl turned back to the house, which towered over her like some stern authority she had to obey. It called to her. Telling her she had to come back, come back to it, come back to Isaac.
But what of the Eyes?
For once, M felt a sympathy, a kindness towards the mysterious boy that was Asagwara Nenge. While her mansion pulled her to sheltered riches, that child beckoned her to a dangerous, unpredictable adventure. Oh, what road that would be to travel, one where a girl couldn't possibly imagine what would happen next. It sounded like heaven.
And hell.
Suddenly, the sound of heavy boots on the concrete entered M's wary ears. They weren't Asagwara's shoes, was all she knew. That was enough for her to hoist her dog off the ground and escape to the shadows - where the dark boy had stood but minutes before.
"Damn, I really thought..." A man's voice. M ducked farther into the shade of the bushes and trees. Her whole body shook, and she put a trembling hand over Tully's muzzle. There was muffled whimpering. She should've gone inside while she had the opportunity.
"What is it? Why in hell's name did you run off like that?" A woman was accompanying the stranger. She had an accent that must have been from some part of Africa.
"I heard him, I did. Little bastard ran away, remember?"
"Don't call him that!" There was an audible smack. The man grunted in pain.
"I'm not his father, am I?"
The woman hissed. "No, damn right you aren't, but you don't have my permission to call him that."
"It's technically true."
There was a brief absence of harsh voices that was filled with the blissful song of crickets. M held her breath in case either member of the pair had particularly good hearing. Based on how they spoke, the man, at least, was not fond of children.
Especially not eavesdropping ones, she was certain.
"You best shut your mouth if you want to keep leeching off of me. I'll look for my son, and you go home. I want to be the one to find him."
Son?
M put her hand to her forehead in disbelief. Oh, I'm an idiot, she thought. That must be Asagwara's mother. Looking for him. He ran away? She hadn't even toyed with the idea of Asagwara's parents. Or parent? Maybe he only had his mom. M felt a pang of pity for the boy.
"Asagwara's gonna be sorry when I see 'im." The man cracked his knuckles loudly. M's heart hurt even more than before. She had no idea that child was so bad off.
"Lay a finger on him and you're out," the woman snapped back. "You know, I thought you were some good, but I was sure damn wrong." She laughed curtly. "Would've been better staying with Erhiaganoma. I should've told him..." Her voice was overwhelming with regret.
"We agreed you'd never talk about him."
"Go home!"
The man growled like a rabid animal, fenced in by some invisible confinement. He was angry, but he couldn't attack - not this time, anyway. M wanted more than anything, then, to be back home in bed.
"Don't expect to be sleeping anywhere but the couch, later," the man spat.
"It's my house, and it's my bed!" the woman yelled. Her impatience echoed along the empty streets, as if the neighborhood was unknowingly surrounded by the walls of an auditorium. It was almost too theatrical for the situation. M winced at her shout and shrank further into the brush, the new autumn leaves crunching under her boots.
She must have moved too loudly, for the woman stepped closer to her hiding place.
"I heard something."
"Oh, now you're hearin' the voices too? I see where your son gets his insanity from." The man scoffed disdainfully and stormed off in a hurry. He had courage to speak to her like that, but he wasn't about to stick around to see the results either.
"Is anyone there?" The woman's voice was suddenly choked, and she had become quiet. The assertive tone she had taken on before dissipated. "Asagwara, baby, is that you?"
M's heart was racing. She nervously chewed on her dark locks and crouched lower. If she answered...
"Please, I'm so worried," she continued. "I need my son."
M stood up with absolute confidence. She tucked her fear deep inside her, hid her longing for home away. She would do this for Asagwara. For his mother, too. Why? Perhaps it was some instinct deep inside her, or a desire for friendship, or simply natural human empathy that many others lacked.
"Who are you?"
M made eye contact with the woman who questioned her presence. She was tall, thin, with frizzy hair - a similar color to Asagwara's - tied tightly into small braids all around her head. Her eyes were more of a deep greyish brown, and her skin even darker than her son's.
"I wasn't trying to listen in, I swear -" M hurriedly began.
"No." The woman put up her hand to stop her. "Just tell me who you are."
"My name is M - the letter - Desjardins -"
"No," the woman interrupted again. "No, it's not. Don't fib. You best not tell me your parents named you after their favorite letter of the alphabet." She hesitated. "Or parent."
M sighed. 'M' wasn't her real name, that was true, but that was merely what she preferred to go by. "It's a nickname. I'm not lying."
"Alright, alright, I understand then. My name is Kasarachukwu Nenge, but just call me Kasa. Like, uh, what is it - the Spanish word for home?" Kasa chuckled sourly. She extended a hand, and M took it to shake.
"Sorry I was...uh, I sort of heard your whole conversation. I didn't mean to. I just heard that guy you were with coming and got scared."
"That's fine." Kasa fiddled with a loose string on her indigo sweater. "You were with my son, weren't you?" Her face lit up with a kind of hope that M would like to imagine that her mother would share, if she was in the same situation. "Is he okay?"
M bit her lower lip. She wished she knew where Asagwara had gone, and wished she could return him to his mom. Yet, ruefully, she admitted to herself that she knew nothing. "I'm not sure," M said softly. "We...well, we were talking, 'cause he asked me to meet him here tonight, and then...he disappeared. But...he seemed scared sometimes. Then other times, he was smug and confident and it was just really...strange."
The leaves, red and brown and rusty gold in the trees above, rustled eerily. There was a slight chill in the air that hadn't been present a moment ago. M wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered.
"He wasn't always like that," Kasa murmured. "I feel as if it's my own fault, depriving him of a real father and letting Creighton anywhere near him." M was becoming uncomfortable, this person revealing personal information to her. Did she have that kind of effect on people? She'd never known others to open up to her so quickly before.
M assumed Creighton was the man who had been there minutes ago. "It's not you who is to blame." She wanted to comfort this woman, put a hand on her shoulder and tell her it would be okay, but who was she to do that? She was a twelve-year-old girl, with two parents who were hardly around, and she and Kasa were hardly more than strangers. Besides, M had an abstract idea of what was going on with Asagwara, and it was both unbelievable and possibly not even accurate. Kasa would think she was crazy along with being a liar if she told her.
"I wish I'd told Erhiaganoma."
"Asagwara's birth father?"
"Yes. It was stupid. We were in love, but not married. We planned to, though. Elope and run away." Kasa's gaze was distant, as if she was envisioning the life she could've had - a life that was right in front of her, yet out of reach. "I was pregnant with Asagwara. Scared, angry, sad. I moved from him, my lover, and once our son was born I came to La Cuvette. I never told him we had a son."
M scooped Tully off the ground as he began circling tirelessly around her. She ached for Kasa, and for her boy, and even for Erhiaganoma. They...they were even worse off than she thought herself to be. At least she had her parents. "Why not, might I ask?" M tried to think of a good reason why the woman was telling her so much but came up with nothing still.
"I don't know." Kasa shut her eyes and threw her arms up towards the sky. "I don't know. I'm an idiot. As much as I want to see my love again, there's no way I ever could."
"Where is he?"
"Still in Nigeria, I suppose. It would be tough for him to leave, or even for us to get there. It's always the money. Money, money, money, that's all there is."
M reached out and hugged her.
Kasa gave a small gasp of surprise, but her body relaxed. She wrapped her own arms around M's waist. She shook slightly as tears trickled down her grief-stricken face.
"I know I've only just met you, and it's weird - well, really weird, but we're going to find your son and Erhiaganoma. Together."
The woman pulled back and met her determined eyes. "You're much too kind and courageous for your age." She gently stroked M's hair, tilting her head to the side in a way that was happy and sad simultaneously. "Your parents must be proud."
M stepped back and looked at the ground. "Yeah. Sure."
Kasa glanced distractedly at the mansion that stood ominously a distance away. "You should go home to bed. Is that yours?"
"Yup."
"Meet me at the gate again tomorrow before you go to school. I'd like to be introduced to your parents, actually, so that they don't think...well, that you're talking to strangers."
"I sorta am," M laughed. She shoved her hands deep into her pockets, watching her puppy roll around. He was a bit irritated from being dropped when his owner hugged Kasa, but he didn't often hold a grudge.
"Nevertheless, tell them I'm your friend's mother. If you really want to help me, they need to know you're safe." Kasa smiled. "I promise I won't let you get hurt."
M sat down and coaxed Tully into her lap, thinking. As much as Kasa seemed completely trustworthy, she got that same feeling she did when she was around Asagwara. It was something tugging at her, telling her to get away. A sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. But shouldn't she help them?
No, she heard her father's voice say, in a tone suggesting she had made a hilarious joke. You should only be worrying about yourself, M! They don't matter. Life's a party and it's all about you, remember?
M shook his words out of her head. That was ridiculous. Would... would he even say something like that?
"Right. I trust you." She returned Kasa's smile with renewed certainty.
"Anyway, sweetheart, I ought to be getting home. And you should too! Just make sure to be at the gate, so I don't stand there catching a cold." Kasa put her hand up in farewell and began to walk off.
"Wait!"
She stopped. "Yes?"
"Um, well, my parents aren't here," M admitted. "They've been gone for ten months. I'm being cared for by my friend Isaac."
Kasa's grin faded. "Oh. Well, be sure that Isaac meets me then. I'll...see you."
The new acquaintances exchanged their final goodbyes and went their separate ways.
M slowly made her journey back to the mansion, suddenly hot and sweaty in spite of the chill that nipped at her skin. The abrupt green of the neatly trimmed grass beginning at the front of her yard seemed more dull than usual. The autumn air smelled of crisp leaves and dew - rightfully so, M suspected that it would rain soon. That was what was to be expected of a typical autumn in La Cuvette.
But, it was hardly typical what was going on in that town, in that particular year, in that particular season, in that particular month, on that particular night. One might say something was afoot. It was something to be leery of.
Upon reaching the porch, M saw a slightly wrinkled index card waiting for her on the swing. Her parents didn't "believe" in Post-It notes, because they were hardly "sophisticated".
So apparently index cards were good enough.
M picked it up off the seat, feeling the smooth back of the paper between her fingers. She remembered the Sorrowblossom and placed it gently on the windowsill with her free hand; she would hate for it to become any more damaged than it had sitting in her pocket.
M finally peered at the words written on the card, and her heart skipped a beat. Isaac had left a note. He knew.
Hey -
Guess you went out for some air. Would've been nice if you'd told me...but I get it, you're going through a rough time. I trust you to come back before midnight and not get into any trouble! Don't think I didn't notice you'd gone off, M. Anyways, your dad just called and he said he and your mom should be back before nighttime tomorrow. Sorry for all the words I had to cram on here but I'd probably have forgotten that last bit by morning.
- Love, Isaac
She was grateful, at that moment, for his understanding.
Other than the brief mention of her parents' return, the note made M feel a lot calmer and happier than before. It wasn't that she didn't want her parents to come home - no, that was the unexpected wonderful news of the day - it was that she wasn't sure what she was going to say to them.
They were her parents, after all.
"Tully, heel," she commanded her puppy, who had begun making mischief in what had once been a lovely neat flower bed. He whined, but followed her instructions.
M patted him fondly on the top of his head, and looked up at the moon one last time before she stepped into the large comfort of the Desjardins mansion.
"I think it's about time we both get a good night's sleep."