We’re in the car. Daddo is driving.
Mommy isn’t crying right now but she’ll probably start again. She ke eps starting and stopping.
Me and Grandma are in the backseat and the sun is going down.
We gotta stay somewhere, Daddo says.
A hotel, Grandma says.
Our house isn’t safe. Grandma’s isn’t safe. Amanda and Dan’s isn’t safe.
Where is safe? Daddo asks.
He turns on the blinker and changes lanes.
The road feels so big and empty.
We’ll find something, Grandma says. We haven’t made it this far in life without making good decisions.
I look a goose in the eye on the side of the road as we pass.
Mommy is crying again. Quietly.
She said her friend died. She saw him dead in the closet.
I’m trying not to think about presents.
Man, Daddo says. So... I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before.
We’re going to figure this out. But right now? We just haven’t yet. And that’s all right. And that’s important for us
to ke ep in mind. Just because you haven’t figured it out yet, doesn’t mean you won’t. Right?
He sounds so nervous. He sounds like he’s no older than me.
We can go wherever we want, Grandma says. We can’t live in— Mom, Mommy says. Please just be quiet for a
little bit.
So we all don’t say anything for a little while.
Grandma squeezes my hand.
Daddo changes lanes again.
Lois said it’s rare for two people to describe an entity the same way, Daddo says. “Entity” was her word.
It’s following us, Grandma says.
Mom, Mommy says. Please.
Well, dammit, Ursula, Grandma says. This isn’t any time to be lying to ourselves.
Mommy turns slowly to look Grandma in the face.
Daddo says, The problem with a hotel is that one hotel becomes two. I didn’t work today and I don’t see how I’m
gonna work tomorrow, and Ruth is right.
Man, she’s right. We need to find someone who knows how to handle this.
Nobody knows anything about what I saw in Bela’s room, Mommy says.
Daddo looks at her and the car goes a little into the next lane.
He straightens the wheel.
A hotel, Daddo says. And then how many of them? How many places before we can’t go anywhere?
We need to face this, Grandma says.
Nobody knows anything about what I saw in Bela’s room.
Outside, the sides of the road are dark. Like when the closet doors aren’t quite touching.
I think of the first time I heard Other Mommy’s voice from the dark in there.
Hello, there. Who are you?
That day, I thought she was hanging upside down in there. I didn’t answer her. I sat in my bed and didn’t answer
her.
Do you mind that I’m in your closet? Do you mind if I come out?
I didn’t tell her if I minded or not but she came out either way. I sat up in bed and watched her curl out of the
closet. She told me we were friends.
She said all kids have a friend in their closet. She said a lot of people lie about who you’re supposed to be friends
with because a lot of people are sad and they want you to be sad too.
The first time she talked, she asked if she could go into my heart. I didn’t answer and I pulled the covers up over
my head.
But she k ept talking, like her mouth was touching the other side of the blanket. She talked about carnation,
rein-carnation, and she said, If you let me in, I can walk and talk just like you do.
But where would I go if she was inside me?
You would go where I come from.
The closet?
No, Bela. I don’t come from the closet.
Other Mommy told me that people sometimes get sad when their friends don’t help them out and then they start
saying things they wouldn’t normally say. She said she was warning me she might say something she wouldn’t
normally say.
Was this what Grandma meant when she asked if she’d said she would hurt someone?
Think of me like Pester, she said.
I didn’t know how she knew we’d had a cat named Pester.
Think of me like Milky, she said.
I didn’t know how she knew about Milky.
And think of Pester outside your bedroom door and how badly she wanted to get in. And the longer you left her
out there, the more sad she would get. Until one day the sound of her meowing could drive you crazy.
Until one day she could get mean.
Is this what Grandma meant?
Frank’s house, Mommy says.
My God, come on, Daddo says.
I have a key.
Are you serious right now?
She cries quietly as she tells us an ambulance came and took Frank’s body away.
Then Daddo slows down and pulls the car to the side of the road.
We all sit quiet in the dark as Daddo looks out the windshield. He breathes in and out.
The road feels so big and empty. The night looks the same color as the closet when the doors aren’t quite touching.
Mommy says, It’s a house, Russ, she says.
You would know, Daddo says.
Then he turns the car around and we drive back the way we came.