Number 667

Chapter Nine

Macy curled her long fingers around the steaming mug, sipping the cup of warm honey tea. In the dim light, she could see the curved shape of the leather recliner in front of the crackling orange fire, and the table she sat at. The woman across from her smiled, holding a cup that read, "#1 Teacher". Her honey-colored hair rested on her shoulders, and her light brown eyes looked into her tea in thought.
"I am so glad," the woman said. "That I was able to find you, Macy. Who would have helped you out there?" Macy smiled and patted the woman's hand. "And to you, Darla, I give my thanks. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't found me." Macy brought her bony hand back, taking a sip fron her tea and glancing into the darkness beyond the doorway that was the kitchen. "Oh, don't thank me. You made me realize that if Jerry didn't want to help you, he shouldn't be with me. So I said to myself, 'Darla, he's not the right man,' and kicked him out."
Macy felt the wrinkles under hey eyes and said in her hoarse voice, "I think it's time for me to retire to bed. I had a long day, after..." She trailed off, getting up from the table and setting her tea down. Darla did the same, helping Macy's frail body to a bedroom. "Now you go to sleep, if you need anything just say so, I'm in the next room over." Macy climbed into bed, saying to Darla, "Thank you so much for this. I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you." Darla turned to her, flicking off the red lamp, and said, "No repaying neccessary. Your gratitude is all I need." She smiled, and left the bedroom, her hand lingering for a moment on one of the pink roses on the wallpaper. Macy settled into the queen-sized bed, pulling the royal red conforter up to her chin. Then she shifted one of the fluffy pillows and let sleep overtake her. She recalled the moments of the day, when she was laying in the forest, with no clothes, no money, no food, and Darla and her boyfriend had been hiking and had found her. Darla's boyfriend, Jerry, had not want to help her. But, as Darla had said, she decided that any man who did not want to help someone in need was not a man for her.
So Darla had taken Macy to her home, a small two-story house on the edge of Twistville, and had let her stay. Macy loved how the navy color of the roof blended with the reds and pinks of her bedroom. Almost like her old house.
No. Now was not a time for memories. Her parents were long gone, probably moved after the incidents of that year, thirty years ago. Thirty years ago, when...
No, Macy commanded herself.
No.
The next day was relatively uneventful, Darla having to work and Macy staying at her house, reading the day away. Anything she could get her hands on, she would read. C. S. Lewis, Lewis Caroll, J. K. Rowling, anything. Anything to read. For thirty years, she hadn't read a word, she had been too busy being caltivated by sweets and fun and playthings. All while she wasted her life away.
After Macy was sure she had read every single book in the house, including a the large stacks of textbooks Darla kept in the living room for her students, there was only an hour until Darla would return. So she walked into the living room, where the sofa was positioned in front of the television, with an armchair and a small painted wooden table parallell to it, and eecided to relax. She settled down on the black leather couch, shuffling the stacks of paper on the glass coffe table to find the black plastic remote. She finally found it, flicking on the small television to see the news. She supposed she would like to know what had been going on in the worl for the past thirty years.
She fumbled with the remote for a minute, her wrinkled fingers clicking buttons. She found the news channel, the plasticy, bright face of the overly ecstatic newswoman popping up. Her curly white-blonde hair was in a ponytail, and her baby blue eyes were wider than usual. She was wearing a blue dress that was deeper than her eyes, but made the color of her mascare-d eyes pop. She smiled with her too-white teeth and said, "Today, we have the case of not one, but two missing children by the names of Joseph and Matthew Kadidras. Dissapearing a almost the same time as the two boys was twenty-eight-year-old Peter Vilios. They were both thought ti be abducted, but the Twistville Police is still gathering evidence. I'm Jamie Coheras, and this is Twistville News."
Macy flicked off the television, curling her hands to the leather of the couch. She flung her head into the black courdoroy pillow, sobbing and quivering and she clutched the pillow with all her might. Peter would never cone back, as thought, never. She had him. Forever. And as for the boys, she knew where they were. But she couldn't go back there. Not in this condition. And she had sworn to herself that she would never go back to that... Place again.
Macy breathed in a sigh, turning herself over and staring at the popcorn ceiling as she wiped crusty dried tearstreaks from her cheeks. At least Peter would be safe, she thought.
Forever.
Forever. That word set her off weeping and shrieking and screaming into the damp pillow again. Forever she would be with him, he said. Forever she couldn't be with him now. Never would she see the auburn-haired man again.
Macy once and for all pulled herself together, shuffling across the patterns of red flowers on the green carpet. She opened the cupboard, making it squek like a mouse, and took out a glass cup. Then she set it under the tap and ran the water, plunking in two ice cubes after. Then she sipped as she watched a rerun of Tom and Jerry in the living room. She was deep asleep when Darla arrived, the sub casting orange and purple hues across the now dark blue sky. She arrived quietly, the knob barely making a sound as she entered.
"Macy?" She said faintly, seeing as she appeared to be asleep. Assuming that she was asleep - which was true - she tiptoed around the house and slinked silently into her bedroom.
Macy was alseep for the rest of the night.
He next morning when Macy woke up, Darla was gone.