I reach into the hollow, fumbling through our arsenal of rocks and tennis balls until I find the broken arrow, the short, splintered shaft with the pyramid blade tip. I know it’s a useless weapon but it’s comforting to have something—anything—in my grip.
And now I see her coming. Caroline is over the mossy bridge and she’s advancing toward us, sweeping the flashlight over the path. I whisper to Teddy that we need to be very quiet. I tell him he’s going to see his mommy but he has to promise not to say anything. And fortunately he does not ask any questions because she scrambles up the trail and stops right below our tree. There are voices in the distance, men’s voices, shouting. A dog, barking. Caroline looks back in their direction. She seems to understand she’s running out of time. I’m so scared, I am holding my breath. And my grip on Teddy is so tight, he can’t help but make a little cry of protest.
Caroline looks up. She points her flashlight into the tree and it’s so bright I have to shield my eyes. “Oh, Teddy, thank goodness! There you are! Mommy’s been looking all over! What are you doing up there?”
I see she’s still holding the pistol in her opposite hand, carrying it casually, like it’s an iPhone or a water bottle.
“Stay here,” I tell Teddy.
“No, Teddy, please, it’s not safe up there,” Caroline says. “Mallory is wrong. You need to come down and we’ll get you back to the house. You should be in bed right now!”
“Don’t move,” I tell him. “You’re okay right here.”
But I can feel him moving toward her, instinctively, drawn to the sound of her voice. I tighten my grip around his waist and I’m shocked by the warmth coming off his body. He’s burning like he has a fever.
“Teddy, listen to me,” Caroline says. “You have to move away from Mallory. She’s very sick. She’s had what’s called a psychotic break. That’s why she drew all over the walls. She stole this gun from Mitzi and she used it to hurt your daddy and now she’s trying to keep you all for herself. The police are at our house and they’re looking for us right now. So let’s get down from there. Let’s go tell them what happened. Leave Mallory in the tree and let’s go straighten this out.”
But there’s no way Caroline is leaving me in the tree. She’s already told me too much. She’s told me the name of Teddy’s real mother. Her name was Margit Baroth and she was murdered near Seneca Lake. If the police do even a cursory investigation of my story, they’ll realize I’m telling the truth. Caroline has no choice but to kill me. As soon as she gets Teddy down from the tree. And then she’ll try to spin the whole thing as self-defense. And I’ll never know if she gets away with it, because I’ll be dead.
“Come on, sweetie. We need to go. Say bye-bye and come down.”
He shakes off my grip and shimmies across the limb.
“Teddy, no!”
And when he looks back, I can see the whites of his eyes. His pupils have rolled back into his head. His right hand reaches out, snatching the arrow from my grip, and then he leaps from the tree. Caroline raises her arms, like she thinks she can actually catch him. Instead she collapses beneath his weight, tumbling backward. The gun and flashlight fly from her hands, disappearing into the bushes. With a sickening thump she lands on her back, holding Teddy close to her chest, protecting him from the fall.
“Are you okay? Teddy, sweetie, are you okay?”
He sits up so his body is straddling Caroline’s waist. She’s still asking if he’s okay when he spears the arrow through the side of her neck. I don’t think she realizes she’s been stabbed until he pulls it out and stabs her again, three more times, chop-chop-chop. By the time she starts screaming she’s already lost her voice; all that comes out is a wet gurgling yelp.
I cry out “No!” but Teddy doesn’t stop—or rather, Margit doesn’t stop. She can’t control most of her son’s body, just his right hand and his right arm—but surprise has given her the advantage, and Caroline is choking and gagging on her own blood. The dogs bark louder, drawn by the sounds of struggle. The men in the forest are getting closer. They say they’re coming to help us, they yell for us to make more noise. I scramble down from the tree and rip Teddy off Caroline’s body. His skin is hot to the touch, like a boiling pot on a stove. Caroline lies thrashing on her back, clutching the remains of her neck, and Teddy is soaked with gore. It’s in his hair, all over his face, and dripping from his pajamas. And somehow I have the clarity to think clearly, to understand what has happened. I know that Margit just saved my life. And if I don’t act very quickly, Teddy will spend the rest of his in an institution.
He’s still clutching the arrow in his right hand. I lift him off the ground and pull him close, squeezing hard, so the blood spreads from his clothes onto mine. And then I carry him down the trail to the banks of the Royal River. I step into the water and my foot sinks into the mossy, squelchy mud. I take another step and another, wading deeper and deeper until the water is waist-high and the shock of the cold jolts Teddy awake. His pupils snap back into place; his body goes limp in my arms. He drops the arrow, but I manage to catch it before it hits the water and sinks out of sight.
“Mallory? Where are we?”
Teddy is terrified. Imagine waking from a trance and finding yourself in a dark forest, up to your neck in a cold creek.
“It’s okay, T-Bear.” I splash water onto his cheeks, scrubbing off the worst of the blood. “We’re going to be okay. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“Are we dreaming?”
“No, buddy, I’m sorry. This is real.”
He points to the bank of the river. “Why is there a dog?”
It’s a big dog, a black retriever, sniffing furiously and barking like mad. Some men come running out of the woods, dressed in reflective gear and waving flashlights.
“Found ’em!” a man shouts. “Woman and child, down by the creek!”
“Miss, are you hurt? Are you bleeding?”
“Is the child okay?”
“You’re safe now, miss.”
“Let us help you.”
“Come on, buddy, reach out your hand.”
But Teddy wraps his arms tighter around my waist, attaching himself to my hip. There are more police officers and more dogs approaching from the far side of the river, closing in on us from all directions.
And then a woman’s voice, calling from farther away: “I got another one! Adult female, PNB, multiple knife wounds!”
They’ve got us surrounded now, a ring of flashlights advancing from every direction. It’s not clear who’s in charge because everybody’s talking at once: It’s okay, you’re all right, it’s safe now, but they see all the blood on our clothes and I can tell they’re freaking out. Teddy’s freaking out, too. I whisper in his ear: “It’s okay, T-Bear. They’re here to help us.” Then I carry him to the riverbank and gently lower him to the ground.
“She’s holding something.”
“Miss, what’s in your hand?”