well, i'm alone there now... Who: John & Laura. What: The twins finally find their daughter. Where: Their apartment, then the stairs, then an empty apartment on the second floor. When: Saturday, April 22.
Laura woke wrapped in John's arms, her own twisted around his larger form, on their shared couch inside their shared apartment. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, she forgot that they were in the midst of a nightmare. She wondered why they were asleep there, instead of in their respective beds, where Anaise was, if she was quietly snoozing in her own room. Then reality came crashing down, reminding her why her eyes hurt, why she felt so utterly lost. The bright blue walls of the living room seemed coated in tears rather than the open sky, and every dot of livid yellow was a burning reminder of everything that was missing.
"Johnny," she whispered, her voice thick she knew from crying. She pushed against him gently, waking him carefully, knowing they had to go back out and search. Something about this day felt different from the rest -- though she'd continually kept up the pretense of hope, she'd felt it waning every so slightly as the days continued. They lived in a large building, but not that large. Surely they should have been able to find her by now. Instead, there'd only been fleeting glimpses, Anaise's laughing form continuously darting away from them, forever just outside their grasp. It was difficult to understand why she would play this game with them.
"Johnny, c'mon, wake up," she said again, this time, her voice louder. Her stomach rumbled, but there was little food left in the fridge. They needed to shower, sleep, eat properly, but none of these things would be done. They had instead been readied, though for what, Laura could not yet have said.
John mumbled a semi-intelligible response; the words were unclear, but his tone expressed affirmation. His left arm stretched up, his back cracking as it did. He still wore the black tee and dark jeans from their previous day's search. Only his socks and shoes had been removed, now waiting by the door for their next trip out. He blinked, dark eyes finding hers.
"Okay," he said. "I'm up." He rubbed at his eyes. Slowly he rose to sit, moving her with him, one arm still around her. "Do you want a shower first, or should we just head out?" He looked to the heavy watch on his right wrist, frowning at the time. They had needed the rest, to say the least, but he could not help but regret the time they'd lost. "Shit. I didn't mean to sleep this late…" Laura shook her head, squeezing his hand. They'd both lost track of time amid this surprise incarceration; it didn't seem to matter.
"I'm fine if you want to--" She'd started to offer him the shower, thinking she could go one more day without one, when a noise pulled her head away from her brother to the front door. If she hadn't already memorized her daughter's laughter from the first day she'd heard it, Laura most certainly knew it by heart now. Her eyes went wide and she leapt up from the couch as if electrified.
"Anaise, Anaise, wait!" She didn't even stop to put on shoes, the same gray jeans and white shirt covering her still half-asleep form. Laura jerked the door wide and darted out, trying to catch the barest hint of the escaped child before she could get too far away.
John was after her like a shot. He left the door hanging wide, his bare feet crossing the floor in long, hurried strides. His niece's laughter echoed in his ears, drawing him onward at a far faster pace than was wise. He fell into step alongside his sister in short order, and slowed his steps to match her pace. Instinctively he looked into the opposite rooms as she; his head turned the precise way hers didn't. They covered more ground this way, could search more rooms and down longer corridors. It was a system to which they were both accustomed, though thankfully situations this dire had been rare. But he did not see the child in any of the rooms they passed, nor in the alcoves that led to elevators and stairs.
"Anaise!" he called. "Come back!"
The slimy ground, porous walls and strange noises of the seventh floor had become all too familiar over the seven days they'd been trapped inside. Laura's every step was well-put, unerring even as it edged on the areas now known to contain quicksand. Anaise's form appeared as if shrouded in fog, slipping away from them even as she became visible. Laura willed herself to move faster, stretching out one arm as though she could magnetically pull the girl back into her grip. Anaise glanced over her shoulder at this action, as if compelled, but she only smiled and laughed, content to be chased into and down the stairwell; the same motions repeated so many times before.
Laura felt tears sting at her eyes, but she ignored them; she slammed the stairwell door open again, pushing it wide enough for John to follow as they both began a long descent after Anaise's fleeting form. He burst through seconds later, and though he took the stairs two at a time he still could not catch up with the girl. It defied all explanation, but John had long since given up on making sense of this place.
She flew past each landing, showing no signs of exhaustion. As they rounded the stairwell that opened onto the Native American floor -- one John had found particularly relaxing, in those few moments they'd had to enjoy it while searching for their wayward child -- John paused. Anaise had disappeared entirely, leaving only the sound of footfalls and laughter in her wake. He looked back to his sister over one broad shoulder.
"We need to have a long talk with her when this is done…"
"I'm going to duct tape her to the wall when this is done," Laura retorted, her waning patience showing clearly through an exasperated and thready voice. She wavered, wondering if they should try the fifth floor, but something told her to keep going down.
"Not this one," she murmured, her brow furrowing as she kept descending further. Though there was no more sound, no trace that might point them in the right direction, Laura felt a guiding hand press between her shoulderblades and push her to keep moving down. While they walked, other worries began to spill out of her. "I shouldn't have brought us here, it was a mistake." Fingers curled into fists at her sides, ready for this ridiculous event to be over.
"Don't say that." John's hand found hers. He took up walking beside her, tightly holding her hand, forcing her steps to slow; she gripped his hand in return, the sensation impossibly comforting. "Don't put this all on yourself. This seems like a good place in spite of all this bullshit, and she's happy here. Maybe a little too happy right now, but we'll deal with that. Together. Okay?"
The fourth floor went past. The third. With each landing John felt a renewed sense of calm, a certainty that this is where they were intended to be. This building, for all its strangeness, was intended for them. Perhaps Anaise had simply realized it sooner than they.
"Do you feel that?" he asked, as the second floor drew near. A sense of power emanated from that place, a resonance he felt something deep within him answer. His hand tightened on Laura's. His eyes met hers. Their gazes locked, and she nodded. Their fingers still entwined, Laura stepped forward and pulled the door open, bringing her twin along behind her.
The space welcomed her as much as it had before. Bright pops of color swirled around them as though the walls were rotating in an unfixed space. The drawings between apartment doors moved; Ezili Freda blinked, smiling at them, mouthing hello; Damballah curved between doorways, sliding through every available inch of space to leave dirt and plants and life in its wake. Never before had Laura felt so at home, but she still drew to a pause, marveling at everything before them. Her hand tightened in John's, not out of fear but certainly out of disbelief.
"You're...seeing this, right?"
John's lips parted, but he found no words. He looked around, taking in the sight of these living, breathing beings whose names they had heard since time out of mind. He thought back over their evening and the long day before; he had ingested nothing that could have led to such visions, and this surely was no dream. He stepped forward into this vision of a floor, his gaze sweeping over the walls to observe every change.
"How…" He swallowed back the words. It wasn't possible, could not be, and yet every step deeper into the floor only confirmed what his eyes told him to be true.
And then the laughter came again; around a corner, a massive puff of thick, black curls quickly disappeared.
This time they did not run; instead, they moved as one unit, hands linked, steps in sync. Sometimes Laura took the lead; other times John, but they always came back together in midstep. They followed at a slower, more leisure-stricken pace to where Anaise had darted -- another empty apartment, another replay of the events that had started this whole game. Laura trailed teeth over her bottom lip as she led their path into the apartment through the single-entry door, John close behind. Anaise was standing in an empty corner of the one-bedroom unit, talking to something no one else could see.
Laura's voice trembled a question. "Anaise?" The little girl shivered, her hands rubbing up and down her arms as she seemed to squat slightly, still speaking in some strange gibberish. Laura repeated the name, and the girl stood straight, almost bending backward slightly as her arms outstretched at her sides.
Slowly, she turned, head slightly tipped back, eventually facing the siblings who had become her parents. Laura felt as though they were all under a spell, but she still had the presence of mind to gasp, slapping a hand over her mouth as she saw Anaise's eyes rolled back in her head until only the whites showed.
She spoke something in a tongue that seemed at once both familiar and foreign, beautifully musical and horrendously awful.
In spite of all that was around them, all the changes in the building and the strangeness in the air, John's thoughts went at once to the perfectly practical. Anaise had never once suffered a seizure, she had no serious allergies of which they were aware, and it seemed unlikely she had suffered a venomous bite of some kind. Still he latched onto this last explanation, improbable as it was.
"There was a crocodile upstairs earlier this week," he said, his voice a breathless whisper directed only to his sister. "Could she have been bitten by something? A snake? Spider?" He was pleading, as much as he could in his deep, rumbling tone, reaching for anything remotely resembling sense.
Laura didn't respond verbally, enough of an answer to say I don't know, and she let go of John's hand to take a few steps forward, sinking to one knee before her child.
"Anaise? Baby?" The girl's vision attached to her mother, blank, white eyes following her movements. Laura put arms out beseechingly to the young girl, trying to coax her forward. "Baby, it's time to come home." She waved her hands inward, motioning for Anaise to come to them. The girl took a single step forward, the vowels and sounds leaking from her mouth unending.
John stood behind Laura, a massive shadow close at her back. There was something oddly familiar about the words she spoke, the sounds that issued forth from her small mouth. His mind raced as he tried to discern where he might have heard such things, but no answers were forthcoming, and still his niece advanced on them. His arms remained at his sides, ready to respond to whatever came of this, but there was worry and uncertainty written on his face.
"Anaise," he called, "that's it. Just a little bit farther, babygirl."
The girl seemed to glide forward, as if she were not of this world. But as Laura and John made their appeals, she seemed to waver, suddenly uncertain of either them or herself.
"Please, baby, come on," Laura said, edging on the desperation her brother had shown earlier; she was ready to crack, ready to break down and be done with it all if this was what had become of her child.
Anaise wobbled, her arms lowering.
"Mommy?"
John did not move from his place behind his sister, though every fiber of his being strained toward his adoptive child. A broad, bright smile broke over his face, relief flooding through him like a tidal wave. He let her move to Laura, but he could not resist seeking out some small reassurance.
"Anaise? Hey, baby. Welcome back." There were worlds within the question he wanted to ask; John was not sure he expected an answer from her, at least not one that would satisfy him after all they'd been through. But he had to ask, all the same. "Where've you been?"
Anaise blinked, those strange white eyes unabating inside her childish face. Her mouth worked for a moment, at a loss for words.
"I think I was asleep."
"That's OK, baby," Laura said, never letting her arms descend for a moment. "Come to us and we'll take you home. You can sleep in your bed, OK? We missed you." Anaise still seemed to pause, unsure, but she took another step, and then another, eventually falling into Laura's arms. She wound the girl up tight, pressing her face into the familiar still somewhat-babyish smell of her child. Scooping her up, Laura turned and hugged the small girl between herself and her brother, relieved beyond words to have her back.
John squeezed them both so tightly he heard someone's back crack. Only then did he loosen his grip, and he still did not entirely let go, too pleased to have his family together again. He kissed Anaise on her upturned forehead. The time for somber conversations about running away would come later. For now there was only joyous reunion.
"Let's get you a bath," he said, playfully wrinkling his nose at her. The gesture did much to hide the unshed tears that lingered in his eyes. "And you can tell us all about your dreams while you were sleeping, hm? I want to hear all about them."
Anaise had buried her face in her mother's shoulder, but then lifted her gaze to glance back at her uncle, her nose wrinkling in turn. Her eyes had changed back to their normal brown.
"Uncle John, you smell," she replied, before her stomach uttered a loud and unabashed growl. "I'm hungry. Can I have some celery and peanut butter?"
Laura laughed. "Baby, you can have whatever you want. After a bath." But she remained where they were standing, in the middle of a barren unit, unconsciously afraid that if they took a single step, they'd lose her again. Exhaustion and hunger began to eat away at that fear, and with Anaise safely and tightly on one hip, she kept her fingers entwined with John as they moved out of the apartment and back toward their own.