Karen's Not Home

One

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One

As soon as Aunt Nancy's car comes to a stop, I fling my door open and unbuckle my seat belt. She takes the keys out of the ignition and gets out of the car. I sit there in the black leather seat for a moment, looking up at the two-story light blue house with a white trim right in front of us. It's an adorable house. The smell of freshly mown grass drifts into my nose and birds chirp as white, fluffy clouds lazily glide across the blue sky.

When I hear the trunk open, I get out of the car and go to help her. She tugs out one of my suitcases and heaves it at me. I take it and wait as she hefts the other one out. My purple and black messenger bag is already draped across my chest. Now I feel bad for trying to pack so much, but my aunt doesn't complain. Her deep pink lips do pull into a grimace as we carry the suitcases up the wooden porch stairs. Even though the bags are heavy, my legs are thankful to be free from the confinements of the car.

"Well, here we are," Aunt Nancy says as she pushes the decorative front door open.

I smile as I follow her inside and am greeted by a blast of cold AC. Ah, that's more like it. I hadn't realized just how hot I'd been. It sure was hot for May. Aunt Nancy turns to hang her black purse on a hook in the entryway. After she tosses her keys into a wicker basket sitting on top of a table, she leads me out into the living room. It's a small but cozy-looking room with dark wine walls, gray carpeting, and dark wooden furniture.

We come to a set of dark wooden stairs and travel up them. After we arrive on the second floor, she follows a deep red carpet runner down to the end of the hallway. We pass by four wooden doors and lots of framed pictures. A lump forms in my throat when I spot one of my dark-haired cousin. Before I can dwell on the picture for too long, we come to the door at the end of the hall. I stare at the sign still dangling from the brass doorknob. Karen, the purple and pink sign proclaims in silvery letters. I'm staying in her room?

My mouth opens to tell my aunt that maybe I can just sleep on the couch all summer when she grasps the doorknob between her long fingers and shoves it open as if the door is heavy. For a moment, she just stands there, staring into the room. I'm about to find the words to tell her that we don't have to do this, that I don't need to invade Karen's room, but my aunt takes a deep breath and goes in.

As she lays my heavy suitcase on the blue and purple striped bed, I follow, realizing that I am actually holding my breath. As I let the air back out of my lungs, I set down my suitcase by the white desk and lay my messenger bag in the matching chair. There's a computer and a lamp on the desk top, but the rest of the surface is covered in dust. It's obviously a room that isn't used much. Why hadn't Aunt Nancy had it cleaned already? I can't help but wonder.

Beside the desk and across from the bed, I spot another door. A closet, I bet. Karen's bed is against the wall in the center of the room. A white stuffed bunny with wiry whiskers and black shining eyes stares at me from the middle of the bed. Two bookshelves stand on either side, both messily crammed with books and magazines. A large antique dresser with an oval mirror stands beside a white curtained window. This room is much bigger than my own.

There's no posters or pictures on the pale blue walls, making the room seem somewhat empty. Aunt Nancy stares down at the bed. When she finally turns to me, there are tears in her jade-green eyes. Her eyes are my eyes; all of the women in our family seem to have them. It's weird, but kind of cool.

"I'm sorry it's such a mess, Mel. I didn't realize the dust bunnies had returned. I'll clean it up," she murmurs.

"No," I say, shaking my head. "I've got it."

Her thin, dark eyebrows raise. "Are you sure?"

I nod.

She purses her lips together for a moment, as if thinking. Then she nods. "Okay. I'll go get the duster and broom for you." She starts out of the room but pauses, turning back to me. Her frail arm reaches out until her hand is resting on mine. Tentatively, she smiles. "Thank you."

Thank you for what? For offering to clean the room? For coming here? I'm about to ask, but the words die on my tongue as she turns and walks out. I can hear her soft footsteps on the wooden stairs. Sighing, I turn back to the dusty room. The room is dim because the white, gauzy curtains actually do a good job at keeping the sun out. I go to open them. Dust flies and sparkles. Quickly I lift my arm and sneeze into my elbow.

I take in a deep breath after I manage to get the window open. It probably hasn't been opened since . . . Well, since Karen was here. I stare out at the backyard, suddenly wishing she was still here. I could really use a friend this summer. The backyard is very clean and green, dotted with various trees and shrubs. A red bicycle lays on its side in the middle of the cut lawn. It must belong to Brewster, my little cousin. He was only two when Karen disappeared.

Instead of sitting around in the dirty room waiting for my aunt to bring me the cleaning supplies, I decide to venture out into the hallway. Surely she won't mind if I take a tour of the house. I decide to leave the window open to air out the room some. I feel so much better once I'm out of Karen's room. It's weird but I felt kind of uneasy inside it. Almost like I was trespassing.

The room closest to Karen's turns out to be a bathroom. There's a bucket of toys sitting by the tub and a spaceship themed rug and shower curtain. This must be Brewster's bathroom. Probably my bathroom now, too. I try to imagine myself showering among cartoon astronauts and planets and can't help but giggle. I grin at the sight of a spaceship-shaped toothbrush sitting in a cup on the sink.

I knock at the next door, but no one answers. Maybe it's my aunt and uncle's room. Where is Aunt Nancy, anyway? Surely she's gotten the cleaning supplies by now. After I look around for a moment and decide that the hallway is clear, I slowly turn the doorknob. I can't help it; I'm a bit of a snoop. My heart beats a little faster as I push the door open. Bang! A small cry escapes my lips as I stumble backwards and nearly slip as the door slowly pushes itself open.