Secrets in the Attic

 Maryann’s footprints across the attic floor are the only sign that someone was up here.  

Maryann’s fingernails trace the grooves of each tally mark that now litter the crumbling cement wall. Every single line etched symbolizes her story—a story when one day Maryann will be release from the ghost that haunted her past.

As Maryann’s eighteenth birthday is only a few days away, she anticipates a new adventure around the corner. She’s the youngest child, with an older brother, Bobby, the more sensible one. Maryann is a whirlwind, with her fire-red hair, brown eyes, a heartache for her mother, a delight for her father. Different from the day is from the night. That is what her mother had always said since her birth.   While her father’s gleam in his eyes, as his  little girl ran and play

She takes a tiny breath, stopping at one line, a touching memory of another time when she was ten, as droplets of tears kiss her cheek.

“Where are you going, little one?” Her mother said.

“To my castle’s tea party,” Maryann said, skipping up the attic steps as her delicate fingers clutched onto her doll and teddy bear.

With a sweeping glance, off in a corner lost in time is a tea set waiting for a little girl to join in, as her doll and teddy bear sit motionless with a permanent smile.  With a thump, her pen falls, a cloud of dust rises as a mouse scurries across the room. “Don’t be silly,” Maryann said, partly to herself and to her friends.  Her fingers take the pen in one swift motion, making a mark on another wall, a fresh start beginning adding a new chapter of her story. 

Maryann catches a glimpse from the corner of her eye of the worn boxes scattered and stack among the dust and grim. Once they were valuable, now, the time has finally claimed them. As she slowly lets out a sigh, she wonders where the years have gone.

“Here,” Maryann said, shifting her feet to one side, kicking a book from being buried under the cover of dust. She discovers her childhood diary, fanning the pages. She stops at one date and scanning over the tally lines, counting until she found the one when she was fourteen years of age.  It was when her world fell apart like a house of cards, all tumbling down to the ground.

“Why.. are you... leaving, daddy?” Maryann’s voice quiver while tears were glistening in her eyes.

“ Well, someday, you will understand, little one,” her father said, his suitcase scrapping over the tile floor, the creaking of the door as it closes, leaving her behind.

In a flash, her father was gone, disappearing into the night. With a narrow glance into her mother's eyes, Maryann searches for tenderness behind her silence. Only to be met by a chilly and lifeless stare.  Maryann doesn’t remember how, but she stumbled up the attic steps as the tears streaked down her flushed cheeks.  Maryann’s legs were beginning to buckle as she remembered that time, four years ago this month, right before her birthday. 

“Maryann,” her mother said as she balanced a tray with a peanut and jelly sandwich and a glass of milk, trudging up the steps.  Only to be met with a wall of silence as Maryann wrapped her arms around her slender body.  

“Ghost,” Maryann said, running her nails down another tally mark with a slow intake of breath. Standing back for a few more minutes, as the sun’s rays filtering through the window, “it’s getting late,” she thought, checking her cell phone. So much to do and little time to do it that is her mother's motto. Now she had claimed it as well, making it her own. Like so many things, Maryann had learned ever since her father had left. Take what you can and leave the rest behind.

“Humph,” as she gazes around the attic, her sanctuary a place that has kept secrets buried these many years. Then she spies an old worn-out shoebox held together with string as her nimble fingers untie the rope,  with a swish, every letter went sailing across the floor.  Maryann’s eyes flutter in disbelief as she picks up one of the sealed envelopes addressed to her by her dad. Her hand press against the wall as Maryann steadies herself, wiping her hands on her jeans. With one smooth motion, she opens up the envelope. The yellow stain letter read:

             My dearest Little One,

                            I am so sorry to have left you when I did, especially before your fourteenth birthday. There are so many things that I wanted to say, but with so little time to tell them. Now, I hope to explain why I, but I don’t know where to begin.  Oh, well, maybe when you are older.

There is one significant thing that you must know and believe, and that is “I love you, little one,” and that will never change.

                            Hugs and kisses, Love Daddy.

Maryann’s disbelief, tears well up in her eyes, squitting to re-read her dad’s letter. Was there something missing? Why did her mother hide the notes?  

“Secrets,” she said, stuffing them back into the box. Her nimble fingers tie a bow.  Glancing back to etched tally marks lining the wall. “All water under the bridge,” is what her mother would most likely say if asked why she chose to hide them. Perhaps, it was too painful for her mother, Irene. One will never know.

Maryann places the box back where she found it, peace like a wave washes over her soul to know. That her dad does love her, as she adds another mark to remember this day. A day of discovery, one to be celebrated along with her eighteenth birthday. 

 Maryann’s narrow gaze around the attic skillfully takes one step at a time, matching her previous footprints that lead away from the spot where the tally marks line the wall.    With a heavy soul, Maryann trudges down the steps and into her bedroom. As thoughts like cob-webs spread across her mind. Are there other secrets kept from her? she begins scribbling bubbles of ideas on a piece of paper.

“Sis?” Bobby said, knocking on her door.

“Yeah, what is?”

“Dinner’s ready,” he said

“Coming,” as she folds the paper and slides it under her pillow.

Irene, their mother, hums a delightful tune as she dishes up the beef stew in the bowls. Turning around, she askes, “Child, what would you like for your birthday this year?”

“Um, I don’t know,” was Maryann’s quick response.

Irene chatted away, from one thing to another, as Bobby joins in the conversation. For Maryann, it all seems pointless, shifting herself on the chair as she sighed.

“Child, what has gotten into you?”

Maryann stumbles up from her chair as it scrapes across the tile floor as she rushes up the steps, followed by the vibration of the closing of her bedroom door echoing through the house.

****                                 

As the rays of the morning’s light stream into her room, Maryann quickly gets dress. The door creaks as her slender fingers push it open.  Quietly as a mouse, Maryann passes by her mother's door heading to the attic steps. Quietly she crept up the stairs to the waiting wall to add another mark, only to discover that they have all disappear.

Maryann’s footprints across the attic floor are the only sign that someone was up here as she closes one chapter and ventures onto another. She leaves behind the memory of etched tally marks along with the secrets kept hidden in the worn boxes.

The End