The Secrets we Keep

Vivian set out the China humming tunelessly. Each teacup placed just so on her best lace doilies. It had been weeks since the last brunch and she wanted everything to be perfect. She fluffed the wildflowers in the vase, the one good thing that came from her daughter’s weekly visits. Darlene was such a dull girl. She chattered away week after week about her Pilates classes, her fish-tank, and her husband’s job. What did he do again? Something in banking? Vivian never bothered to remember, he was as colorless as her daughter. Darlene always ended her visits with a kiss on her mother’s cheek, a promise to come back the next week, and a whisper to “get some rest;” completely unaware, the only reason Vivian struggled to keep her eyes open was because Darlene was so boring.

Vivian stepped away from the table and put Darlene out of her mind. She admired the pretty scene she had created. “1, 2, 3…” She turned white and quickly removed the fourth place-setting that she had set without thinking. Her hands shook, causing the delicate dishes to clatter as she put them away. She closed the hutch door and leaned against it, her heart fluttering.

At that moment, Edith was across the complex adjusting her hat in the mirror. She posed, watching the light settle on her face. “Blegh.” She tore the hat from her head and tossed it blindly behind her. She leaned in close and examined the new lines surrounding her eyes, her mouth, her forehead… She swung away from the mirror. She picked up a small silk scarf from a pile and tied it around her neck, ignoring the mirror and the mess she had left behind.

Edith glanced at her watch and cursed under her breath. She hurried to the front door and was about to open it before she remembered the cookies. She couldn’t forget; not again. The others would never say anything, but she could imagine the glances exchanged when they thought she wasn’t looking. She marched back to the kitchen and snatched the tin of butter cookies from the counter. There was nothing wrong with her memory. She chided herself; she just wasn’t sure who she was trying to prove.

She was still muttering darkly to herself five minutes later as she clip-clopped up the brick path to Vivian’s front door.

“Yoo-hoo!”

Edith turned and shielded her eyes. Maude hurried up the walkway behind her. Edith rolled her eyes then pasted on a smile before Maude could see her irritation.

“Maude! Hello!” They embraced and Maude pressed her mothball cheek to Edith’s. Edith held her breath and offered Maude a pained smile. Maude was dressed in a large multi-colored Mumu that hurt Edith’s eyes to look at. They parted and Maude linked arms, her pudgy body pressing warm and soft against Edith’s. Maude’s eyes sparkled “I needed a girl’s day.” She quipped cheerily as they reached the front door. Without letting go of Edith’s arm, she reached out a portly hand and knocked.

It swung open immediately. Vivian ushered them into the day room, talking incessantly.

Maude paused in the doorway, her eyes on the missing place setting.

Edith pushed forward, refusing to let Maude bring up their departed friend Sylvia. Vivian settled into her seat and motioned to the table, inviting the others to sit. She was still smiling too brightly. Edith joined her, adding the tin of butter cookies to the table. After a moment and a deep breath, Maude took her seat and angled it slightly away from the empty chair to her left. Edith watched her struggle to decide where to put her knitting bag. Maude started to put it in the empty seat, then caught herself and sat awkwardly holding it. After a moment, she lowered it to the floor.

Edith turned her attention to Vivian, who was talking nonsense about the events the center had planned for the weekend. She poured hot water into the teacups, then sat quietly, staring at her friends, fiddling with her hands nervously.

She turned her smile from Edith to Maude. “I’m so glad we could all get together again. It’s been so long since…” Her voice trailed off.

Edith primly stirred sugar into her tea.

Maude broke a cookie into pieces on her plate, the tip of her nose red as she fought back tears.

Her sniffling grated on Edith’s nerves. “Oh, for heaven’s sake Maude. It’s been two months.” She snapped.

There was a sharp intake of breath, then Maude broke down completely. “It was just so ho-ho-horrible.”

Vivian sucked air through her teeth, her eyes darting to the window and then back to the table. “We swore we wouldn’t speak of it.” Edith rolled her eyes and added cream to her tea.

Vivian knelt next to Maude’s seat. She still marveled over the fact that she was able to do so without pain. “All of that nastiness is behind us now.” She cooed, handing Maude an embroidered handkerchief. Maude blew her nose loudly and then used the handkerchief to dab at her still streaming eyes. Edith made a sound of disgust and ignored the pointed look from Vivian.

After her sobs had subsided, Maude muffled. “I miss her.” Vivian shot a glance at the empty chair and patted Maude’s hand. “I know dear, we all do.”

“Speak for yourself.” Edith said. Her voice was cold as she sipped her tea.

“Must you always be so cruel?” Maude cried. “She was our friend.”

“She was your friend.” Edith corrected taking a cookie from the tin.

Vivian was vibrating with anger. “Edith, can I speak to you for a moment?”

Edith set her cup down and stood, looking down on Maude for a moment. “Try not to eat all of the cookies.” Maude huffed offensively. Edith grinned and followed Vivian into the bedroom.

Vivian had her arms crossed over her chest. Edith mirrored her and they stared at each other silently before Edith caved. She dropped her hands to her side. “What Vivi? You can’t tell me she’s not driving you mad.”

Vivian sighed and pushed her fingers into her silver hair. “Okay, fine. Yes. But we must be careful Edith.”

Edith picked up a porcelain angel figurine from the dresser to avoid eye contact. “Why? No one suspects anything. Old people die. That’s what we were all sent here to do.” She slammed the angel down on the dresser bitterly. Vivian snatched the figurine. “Lower your voice.”

“Why? You’re not feeling guilty, are you?” Edith asked. “Because I’m not.” Vivian didn’t answer right away. She ran her hand over the angel figurine and refused to return her look.

“It was your idea!” Edith hissed. After a moment, Vivian sighed and placed the figurine back on the dresser. Edith noticed a crack had formed along one side.

“I don’t feel guilty.” Vivian said quietly. She looked around the room, as if someone might overhear her. “I feel amazing.”

Edith smiled broadly. “Yes! So strong!” She agreed. “I haven’t needed my medication in weeks!” She flashed back to the nearly forgotten tin of cookies. “Although…” her voice trailed off.

“Although what?” Vivian asked.

“I think I might like to feel… stronger.” Edith suggested, watching for Vivian’s reaction. She looked horrified.

“No. Sylvia was already sick.” Vivian’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper. Edith leaned it to hear her. “Her life force was already waning.”

“Exactly.” Edith closed the distance and clasped Vivian’s hands in her own. “Think of how strong we would be if we offered someone a little… heartier?” Vivian pulled her hands away in disgust “No. We agreed that we were doing it for Sylvia. To… to put her out of her misery.”

Edith fought the urge to tell Vivian to get her head out of her ass. Instead, she put on her most comforting voice. “That’s right. We had to help her. She was suffering.” She reached out and pushed a strand of hair behind Vivian’s ear. “And now, Maude is suffering. Sylvia was her best friend.” Vivian looked unsure, so Edith pushed harder. “They can be together. And we…” She squeezed Vivian’s fingers. “We can be young again. We can get out of here.” She could see that Vivian was teetering on the edge, she just needed a little nudge. “Think of it, Viv. No more nightly check-ins, no more medicine, no more Bingo.”

Vivian stared at their joined hands. Edith knew she nearly had her. “No more Sunday’s with Darlene and Joe.”

“It’s John.” Vivian whimpered.

“Who cares?” Edith grinned. She stared until Vivian looked up and met her eyes. Edith knew that she had won but kept her face blank.

“Okay.” Vivian answered slowly. Edith kept herself from jumping up and down. “We do this the right way.” Vivian insisted.

Edith crossed her heart. “Of course,” she agreed. She would have agreed to anything to get out of this place, this body. She would never have to smell mothballs again.

“Where are the tools?” Edith asked eagerly.

“In the linen closet.” Vivian answered, whispering again.

“You get the box; I’ll… pour Maude a drink.” Edith winked.

“Do you have the… medicine?” Vivian asked.

“In my purse.” Edith winked.

Vivian waited until she could hear Edith’s footsteps fade, then pushed the door open and slipped down the hallway. She pulled open the linen closet door and glanced over her shoulder. Kneeling to the floor, she pulled out thick winter blankets; exposing an intricate wooden box. She lifted it onto her lap and ran her fingers over the carved lid. She heard Maude’s laughter drift down the hallway and felt her resolve slip.

She set the box back in the closet and picked up the blankets to cover it again. She would have to tell Edith that she couldn’t go through with it. She would have to understand. As she shoveled items back into the closet, she caught a glimpse of her hands. She paused. She dropped what she was holding and brought her hands to her face. Swollen blue-green veins roped under paper-thin skin dotted with brown spots.

She frowned.

Maude coughed wetly in the next room.

Before she could change her mind, Vivian shoved the blankets back into the closet and tucked the box under her arm.

At the entrance to the day room, she peeked her head around the corner to find Edith sipping her tea at the table, alone. She saw Vivian and mouthed “bathroom.” As if on cue, the toilet flushed. Vivian rushed in and shoved the box under a sofa cushion and slid into her seat as the sound of running water reached her ears. She noticed the small vial beside Edith’s plate and kicked her under the table. Edith lurched forward and swept it into her pocket just as Maude exited, dabbing at her red-rimmed eyes.

She didn’t notice how Vivian and Edith watched her over their cups. She returned to her seat and lifted her knitting bag into her lap. She always knitted when she was upset. Edith fought the urge to mock her and took another sip.

Vivian tried to steer the conversation, her voice high and shaky.

“Are you ladies going to the ballroom dance class tonight?”

Edith snorted. “And let one of those old fools put his hands on me? Absolutely not.”

Maude blushed sweetly. “I don’t know. I think it sounds like fun.”

“That’s because you have a fella’.” Vivian teased, drinking deeply and waggling her eyebrows at Maude.

“Oh hush.” Maude flapped her hand at Vivian’s comment and buried her face in the yarn.

“Maude dear.” Edith began, her voice sickly sweet. “You’ve hardly touched your tea.”

Maude obediently lifted it blowing at the steam that rose from the cup. “Still too hot for me. You know how sensitive my teeth can be.” She took a bite of a cookie, a crumb hanging on the corner of her mouth. Edith nodded, but inside she was raging so much it took a moment for her to realize that Vivian had gone silent. She cast a glance at her and was surprised to see that she had her hand pressed to her forehead. Following Edith’s gaze, Maude glanced up. “Vivi dear, are you feeling alright?”

Vivian tried to nod, but the spots behind her eyes made her nauseas. A horrifying thought raced through her mind. Had Edith drugged the wrong cup? She looked over to find Edith staring at the table, running her tongue over her teeth. Vivian shot Edith a questioning look. Edith shook her head and braced both hands on the table, swaying slightly. She blinked her eyes rapidly to clear them, then heard the clicking of the knitting needles still.

“Really girls. Do you think I’m stupid?” Maude asked.

Edith made a gurgling sound deep in her throat. Maude laughed and put the yarn down. She leaned back in her chair and smiled at the pair of them.

“You’re not nearly as sneaky as you think you are.” Maude reached across the table and booped Edith on the nose. Edith tried to bite her finger, but instead she drooled and fell face first onto the table. Maude laughed delightedly and pushed herself to stand.

“Now, don’t be dramatic.” She crooned. She grabbed Edith by the back of her hair and yanked her head up, lowering her face to hers. “I wouldn’t want you to miss this.” She shoved Edith’s head to brace against the back of her chair. Then rounded on Vivian who was rolling her eyes listlessly from side to side.

Maude offered a pitying look and knelt by her chair. “I really expected more from you.” She tutted, then slapped her thighs and stood. “Oh, well.”

“You know Vivi, if you had been paying attention…” Maude continued walking towards the sofa where the ancient box was peeking out from under the cushion. “You would have realized that this was empty.” She opened the lid and presented the velvet lining. She snapped it shut and laughed at the look on Vivian’s face.

“I took this weeks ago.” She snorted, reaching into her knitting bag. She grunted and lifted a large red crystal from the depths. “Right after we killed Sylvia and Edith here started looking at me like a prize pig.” She placed the crystal squarely in the center of the table. “I had hoped you wouldn’t give in Viv, but… you never did have a spine.”

Edith was staring daggers at Maude. Maude blew her a kiss and retrieved the spirit board from her bag and placed it beside the crystal. Vivian closed her eyes in defeat, tears running down her face. This was what she deserved. She thought.

Maude hummed as she circled the room, pulling the curtains closed and turning off the lights. Vivian felt heat against her skin as Maude lit a circle of candles.

“You ready?” Maude asked and clapped her hands together.

Edith groaned and tried to shake her head.

“Shhh…” Maude whispered. “Begging didn’t help Sylvia, and it won’t help you.” She focused on the flames. “Now hush, I need to concentrate.” She lifted her hands and began to chant.

Even though they knew what was coming, Vivian and Edith couldn’t help the twin spasms of shock when the room began to vibrate. It looked to Vivian like heat waves against the blacktop. To Edith, it looked like trying to see through the cataracts that had disappeared after they had sacrificed Sylvia.

The beast was now rising through the spirit board. Maude smiled, her teeth wet.

Edith gurgled in horror, but Maude ignored her. Focusing instead on the string of Latin phrases they had discovered in an old book. The demon continued to rise from the board, reaching nearly to the ceiling. The smell of smoke filled the room, and the sound of crackling seemed to emanate directly from him. His skin was blistered and tight across muscle and bone, symbols etched deep over every inch. His spine rippled like something was swimming beneath the surface. Edith felt her bladder release.

Maude picked up the crystal and presented it to the beast, still chanting steadily and low. There was a deep pull behind Vivian and Edith’s belly buttons and Vivian felt herself fading in and out. She tried to focus, but her strength was dimming. Is this what Sylvia felt? She had never wanted this. Not really. Edith had talked her into this. Her last thought was “Maude was right, I am spineless.”

Edith held on for only a few moments longer. She mouthed “bitch” at Maude and fell heavily to the floor. The beast’s eyes reflected the glow of the crystal. Maude looked deep within its depths and saw the swirling golden light of Vivian and Edith’s souls. She reached out and tentatively placed her hands on either side. It pulsated beneath her fingers. She couldn’t tell if the crystal was boiling hot or ice cold. Reflexively, she tried to pull her hands away, but it was too late. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened her mouth to scream.

Silence.

Maude opened one eye and peeked around the room.

The beast was gone.

Vivian and Edith lay dead at the table.

Maude stumbled into Vivian’s gaudy bathroom; lace dripped from every available surface. She raised her eyes and gasped. She ran a hand across her downy cheek and marveled at the sharp cut of cheekbone. The sound of a lawn mower right outside the window snapped her back to attention. She didn’t have time to appreciate the view. In a flurry of movement, she gathered her belongings, tucking the ancient box and its contents deep into her bag. She flew through the front door, laughing at the whistles from the lawn crew. She raced towards her already packed car. She slid behind the steering wheel, angled the rear-view mirror towards her face and disappeared in a squeal of tires.