Free Rattled by Lisa Harrington Page B

“You okay?” I asked, noticing the dark circles under her eyes.
    â€œYeah. Just tired. Mom must have been having bad dreams or something. She talked in her sleep all night,” Megan said, avoiding eye contact. “Once I was awake, I couldn’t seem to drift off again.”
    I stopped what I was doing, my Oreo-filled hand poised mid-dunk over a glass of milk. “ Really ?” I rolled this around in my head for a second. “So…like…could you make out what she was saying?”
    Megan looked up. She was doing that thing with her ring again, sliding it up and down her finger. I could tell she was struggling with something, like she was wondering whether or not to confide in me. After a worried glance around the room, she leaned in real close and whispered, “Stuff like, ‘You deserve it. You made me do it.’”
    â€œWow,” I gasped. “Freaky.”
    â€œI know, and it’s not the first time,” she continued. “Sam’s heard her too.”
    â€œI wonder what she was talking about,” I said, mostly to myself.
    â€œNot a clue. But Sam says she’s had that same dream for ages. I only noticed it since we moved here. Guess my room is closer to hers in this house.”
    â€œWhat do you think it means?”
    â€œIt sounds like something bad, doesn’t it?”
    â€œHmm…because it doesn’t seem like just a dream, it seems like more of a nightmare.”
    â€œYes, definitely a nightmare,” Megan nodded. “Sometimes she yells.”
    I knew the answer to this question already, but, “I don’t suppose you asked her about it?”
    â€œNo.”
    I took a sip of my milk. With this new development, and the box in the furnace room, my brain was definitely nearing overload. “What if…” I began, thinking out loud. But then good sense kicked in.
    â€œWhat if what? Tell me what you’re thinking.”
    â€œForget it, I’m probably way off.”
    â€œLydia!”
    â€œOkay…What if it has something to do with your dad? Like maybe the person she’s talking about in her dream is him.” I said it in a really tentative, “feeling out the topic” sort of way.
    â€œYou mean like she did something to him?”
    â€œI dunno…Maybe?”
    â€œSomething bad, you mean,” Megan said, narrowing her eyes.
    I shrugged my shoulders. I had a sinking feeling I was going to regret ever opening my big mouth… again .
    â€œYou mean something really bad. Like she killed him or something,” Megan accused. Her tone had definitely changed.
    â€œNo, no,” I lied. “You’re blowing it out of proportion, that’s the extreme version.” My voice was light, but she didn’t buy it. I was back-pedalling, knowing I had gone one step too far.
    â€œYou’re not a very good liar,” she said in a tight voice.
    I could feel my face turning red. My brain was screaming at me to shut up. Do you think for once I could just listen? No sir-ee. “But if you think about it, it could really explain a lot of things. The strange way she acts, those dreams. And, like, what’s the deal with your dad anyways? She won’t let you even ask a question about him? You have to admit, that’s kind of weird.”
    â€œMaybe he’s the one who did something bad.”
    I took my time answering. “Okay…guess that’s possible.” I doubted it though. “Still, she must know you guys are going to want to know about him. I mean, really, why won’t she just tell you? Or make something up even? You have no reason not to believe her if she did. It’s bizarre. You must think so too.”
    â€œJust because she acts weird, or isn’t like your mom, doesn’t mean she’s a murderer .” That last word, murderer , just kind of hung there, letters strung through the air.
    The screaming in my head finally took over.