Other Echoes, Page 2
Noe Dearden
*****
Uncle Eddie drove the SUV up an expansive driveway, pressing a button on the car ceiling to operate the automated front gate.
“Here we are!” Aunt Sheena sang as Uncle Eddie shifted the car into park. “Home sweet home.”
Despite herself, Charlotte found that she was intrigued. While she had always known her aunt and uncle to be well off, their massive house far exceeded her expectations. She searched her memory, trying to recall what kind of work Aunt Sheena and Uncle Eddie did that could possibly explain the extent of their wealth. She drew a blank. Her mom had rarely spoken of Aunt Sheena, and Charlotte knew very little about the Kapono family.
Aside from the mysterious checks, of course.
For as long as Charlotte could remember, every month like clockwork Aunt Sheena had sent them a check for several thousand dollars. And every month without fail Charlotte’s mom had torn up the check and thrown it away.
The money was never cashed, even when things got so tough they could no longer pay the rent or utility bills. One time Charlotte dared to intercept Aunt Sheena’s letter and deposit the money herself. Mom had gotten so violently angry, Charlotte had never considered trying that again.
“Come on out. Don’t be shy!” Uncle Eddie said, opening the car door.
Charlotte followed her cousin out the car and up a winding flagstone path towards the house. The surrounding front yard was perfectly manicured, replete with faux-waterfall and tropical shrubbery. Even the air here felt more expensive: softer, lighter, sweeter.
They stepped inside a well-appointed foyer filled with expensive looking art.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” Aunt Sheena called from one of the interior rooms. Her voice sounded hollow in the high-ceilinged space.
“I’m fine.”
Charlotte was about to step into the next room, but Emi grabbed her arm. “We take our shoes off at the door. Everyone does. It’s an island thing.”
Aunt Sheena appeared, hands on hips. “If Charlotte wants to leave her shoes on, that’s perfectly all right.”
Charlotte didn’t fail to notice the indignant look flicker across her cousin’s face. “That’s gross,” Emi mouthed at her mom, who scowled in return.
Charlotte kicked off her Converse sneakers and shoved them aside.
Later that evening, while she scrubbed herself clean in the guest bath, Charlotte overheard Emi and Aunt Sheena speaking from the kitchen. Someone downstairs must have opened a window, because their voices were floating in through the bathroom louvers.
“She looks so trashy!” That was Emi’s voice, partially drowned out by a running faucet in the kitchen. “It’s like living with…” There was the sound of a refrigerator door opening, which blocked the rest of Emi’s comment.
“That’s not...” Aunt Sheena’s strained voice dipped into an unintelligible whisper. Then it rose again, and Charlotte caught the tail end. “…figure something out. It’s not ideal, but whether we like it or not, she’s here.”
Whether we like it or not, she’s here.
Charlotte sank deeper into the bath bubbles. She was like muddy sneakers -- the Kapono’s didn’t want her in their house. She couldn’t blame them. If Charlotte’s mother had not insisted, Charlotte wouldn’t have come. It had seemed like a bad idea from the beginning. It was even more obviously bad now that she’d met the Kapono’s and seen how perfect their lives were. Charlotte didn’t belong in anyone’s perfect picture. She would ruin everything. She always ruined everything.
