The Thing About Ava

“I can’t believe we’re arguing about this.” I said to my husband under my breath hoping our 4-year-old daughter sitting a few feet away couldn’t hear. She was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen when she was born. Of course, I’m sure every mom thinks that; especially after giving birth, all hopped up on adrenaline, and completely exhausted. Looking into her tiny face with huge blue eyes and already a good amount of dark hair, I promised I would take care of her and love her until the end of time.

Ava did everything early. Sitting up, crawling, and walking. Her expressions would often take my breath away for how deep the understanding behind those eyes seemed to be. She was so engaged with everything and everyone around her, even as an infant. Her eyes would pierce right through you and you had no choice but to give into whatever she wanted or needed from you. I thought she was just a precocious child. A brilliant child had come out of me. I honestly didn’t know I had the genes in me and I was positive my husband didn’t. I mean, we’re smart and caring people; but brilliant? Not quite. Not like Ava.

Ava could charm anyone out of anything by age two. She never exhibited the usual terrible twos people warned us about. The tantrums, the meltdowns in stores, the battle of the rigid body and the dreaded car seat. They never happened. Ava was sweet. Good natured. An old soul was behind those eyes. We were in love with her and everything she did. We were proud parents.

A few months after Ava turned three, our son was born. Ava was curious about little Jack and was often at my side whenever I fed, changed, or bathed him. She was Jack’s big sister and she doted on him like he was her favorite doll. Caressing his hair while he drank his bottle, talking to him in baby talk until he fell asleep in his crib, and bringing him things to cuddle. It was magical. We thought we had hit the jackpot with two amazing kids who just seemed to be easy and wonderful little humans.

The first time I remember anything out of the ordinary was about six months ago. Jack had been crawling toward the couch to use it as something to hold on to while learning to walk and Ava was sitting on the couch watching her favorite show on tv. I left the room for a minute to grab some snacks for the kids from the kitchen. I heard a piercing shriek, a thud, and then Jack crying at the top of his lungs. I ran from the kitchen into the room and saw Ava still sitting in her same spot and Jack on the floor in front of Ava. As I scooped Jack up, I asked Ava, “What happened honey?”

Without looking at me, Ava replied, “Jack fell down.”

It took me quite a while to calm Jack. I didn’t even know he could cry like that. I figured he must have taken a misstep and fell back. It wasn’t until I noticed his fingers on his left hand were red that I realized what had happened. “Ava, what happened to Jack’s fingers?”  I asked gingerly as to not scare Ava into lying. We had been learning about using gentle tones to verbally express when siblings had issues so they would learn how to respect each other while working out differences.

Ava looked directly at me with those big blue eyes and said, “They got bit.” Her face was like an angel, so innocent, and so confident.

It was weird. I mean, I could see the bite marks on his fingers. Jack’s face was streaked with tears from crying. He began sucking on his bitten fingers and laid his head on my shoulder. Ava looked so pure and innocent. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t actually see what happened.

When my husband came home, I told him about the incident. He looked at Jack’s fingers, which were now fine, and figured Jack must have bitten them himself. He was getting some new teeth in and probably bit down on them too hard while trying to sooth himself. Sounded reasonable to me. I laughed at myself for thinking something more sinister had gone on and left it at that. Ava had never exhibited any troublesome behavior before but I had heard about kid’s biting each other and thought that maybe Ava was experiencing some sort of sibling rivalry for attention or something. I put it out of my mind and decided I would try harder to spend more one-on-one time with Ava.

The next few months with Ava were so much fun I wished I had started earlier. I had our elderly neighbor Simone come over and watch Jack for a couple of hours while Ava and I played dress up, had make believe tea parties, and adventures outside in her playhouse.

The house suffered for it as breakfast dished were left piled in the sink, toys were strewn about the living room, and laundry was left for later near the washing machine. Running around and playing for those few hours without a care in the world was invigorating and the bond Ava and I were forming was deep and satisfying. She was becoming my best friend.

Ava and I were in our tea party clothes outside in the playhouse one sunny afternoon when Simone came outside to get me. “Pardon me, Madame Ava”, she said in her best British accent as if addressing the Queen. “May I please borrow Lady Mommy for a moment?” Ava looked up at Simone and paused for a moment as if to ponder on the request and finally replied, “Yes, you may,” in her best Queen sounding voice, “Come right back, Lady Mommy, or you’ll miss the cakes!” I nodded my head on her direction and said, “Yes, Madame Ava, I will return shortly.”

I squeezed my way out of the playhouse and followed Simone into the house. “What is it, Simone? Do you have to go already?” I asked.

Simone turned to me and said it was about Jack. She had been changing his diaper before putting him down for his nap when she noticed some small marks on the heels of his feet. She would have missed them had she not lifted his legs up to wipe farther back. They didn’t have welts or redness around them but looked recent. She didn’t know if he had been bitten by an insect or something so she felt around the crib mattress to see if there was anything. Without saying anything further, she extended her arm out in front of me and opened her hand. She was holding one of those sewing pins with the big shiny ball on the end you use to pin fabric together.

“You found a sewing pin in his crib? Where?”

“Tucked down between the mattress and the wall, near the end, farthest from the door.”

“I’m working on a blanket for Jack. Maybe I dropped a pin when I set the project down in here the other day? That’s so weird. Can’t believe I did that.”

“Are you sure you dropped it?”

“What do mean? How else could it have gotten there?”

Simone looked at me pointedly without answering.

“No,” I said. “She wouldn’t do that. She’s never done anything to harm Jack. I’m sure I must have dropped the pin and somehow, he poked his feet on it.”

“Okay. I just thought you should know,” she paused for a moment and then her face changed ever so slightly and her eyes looked past me.

I turned to see Ava standing there listening to us. “You missed the cakes.” Ava said formally.

“Oh! I’m sorry, honey. Simone and I were just talking. She has to go now, so we’ll have to finish playing tea party another time.” Ava looked at me as if she had heard us talking about her and we were somehow in trouble. Simone left without another word and nothing ever came of it. My husband thought it was my imagination from probably watching too much true crime tv late at night.

Except the marks continued to show up on the soles of his feet and began showing up in other places on his body. I never saw Ava doing anything to Jack and he was too little to tell me how it happened. It was a mystery. I thought, those true crime shows sometimes used cameras to help solve the crimes and, while I was apprehensive about what I might see on the footage, I needed proof Ava wasn’t the one harming Jack. I mean, she’s a little girl, for crying out loud. Of course, if she isn’t the one, then who is?

I got one of those cameras that look like something else so you can spy on people without them knowing. I didn’t even tell my husband or Simone. Maybe I was cracking up or watching too much true crime. Every time I mentioned something, it was explained away by either my husband or Ava or I was able to justify it by some random thing I did myself. I knew deep down it didn’t make sense. Maybe I was post-partum and didn’t know it and was hurting Jack myself and didn’t remember? I couldn’t trust anyone. The camera was tiny and looked like part of the knob holding the ceiling light fixture in place. It was motion activated and would turn in the direction of the motion and capture footage as it happened. I set it up and walked away hoping the only footage it got was benign and boring.

For the first month, the only thing I saw on the camera footage was my husband and I and Simone going in and out of the room doing normal everyday things. Laundry, cleaning up, putting Jack to bed, getting Jack up, changing Jack, etc. Normal stuff. Ava made appearances but nothing unusual. The marks on Jacks body healed up and went away. Maybe I was imagining things and it took looking at the most boring footage known to man to prove it. After a while, I stopped looking at the camera footage. It was silly and paranoid.

Until today. Ava and Jack were goofing around outside in the back yard. It was a hot day and I had the sprinkler on for them to run through. It was about lunch time so I headed into the kitchen to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I could hear the squeals of laughter coming from the yard as I spread a thick layer of creamy peanut butter all the way to the edge of the bread and then an equal layer of blackberry jam on top of the peanut butter. The sound of their voices made me feel so good inside. I couldn’t have been happier. Life was so good. I added the top piece of bread, piled the sandwiches onto a plate, and grabbed a steak knife from the drawer and headed outside. Ava liked cutting the crusts off her sandwich herself but a butter knife smushed the sandwich down too much.

“Lunch time!” I called as I sat the plate down on the patio table and turned off the sprinkler. I wrapped Ava and Jack in towels to help dry them and keep them warm. Ava cut her crusts off expertly with careful consideration. I couldn’t believe the things I had let myself think and question. Things felt different now. Calmer in a way. Ava and Jack were getting along great. I had no cares in the world.

By the time Jack was finished eating, his face and hands were sticky with peanut butter and jelly. I left the lunch mess outside on the patio table and took Jack inside for a quick wipe down and a nap. After playing so hard and then filling up his little belly, he fell asleep almost instantly. When I came back from putting Jack down, Ava was on the couch looking at some of her little picture books. I went outside to grab the lunch dishes to bring in. I didn’t see the steak knife where I left it and quickly glanced around the table and patio. The sun hit something shiny near the faucet spicket but before I could go over there to check it out, I heard Ava calling me. I didn’t want her to wake up Jack so I scooped up the lunch plates, made a mental note to remember to look for the knife, and headed inside.

Ava wanted me to read to her. Jack was sleeping and it was a perfect time to sit quietly and cuddle while reading her favorite stories. But after a long morning of running through the sprinkler and having lunch, Ava soon succumbed herself and fell asleep in my arms. As I held her, I looked around the room and thought this would be a good time to clean up while they’re both asleep.

As I carefully eased her out of my arms and situated her on the couch, I had second thoughts and figured a nice hot shower would be even better. I hadn’t had a shower without interruption in months. Even with my husband watching the kids, the shower was never a time without questions about where something was or is it okay for the kids to have this or that. I was going to shower alone in the quiet, and it would be glorious. I kind of felt guilty for a moment but quickly brushed it off.

I had just finished rinsing off and was standing in the shower letting the warm water cascade down my body soothing the aches and pains in my neck and shoulders. My eyes were closed as I moved my head from side to side. It felt so good standing there. Then I heard it. The most high-pitched, ear-piercing scream I had ever heard in my life. I turned off the shower, grabbed a towel, and hurriedly wrapped it around myself as I ran to the living room. Ava was gone. I stood there for a moment, my hair dripping water down my chest and back, and looked around. I turned back toward the hallway and saw Ava standing there. I could hear Jack crying. I walked toward her and asked as I passed her, “Ava, what happened?” As I opened the door to Jack’s room, Ava replied, “I hurt Jack.”

He was sitting up in his crib crying and there was blood on his hands and face and on his right foot where his heel had been cut. The blood was smeared on his crib sheet from him moving his leg around. “Jack! Oh, Jack! Ava! What did you do?!” I cried out as I picked him up, using the towel I had around me to put pressure on his heel. I grabbed his small bear for him to hold and saw the steak knife from lunch in the crib. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Did my daughter actually do this?

Jack was crying pretty hard, the wound looked pretty deep, and I knew he needed to go the hospital. I took him to my bedroom with me and got dressed as fast as I could. Ava never answered me and just stood there watching me while I frantically got myself together. She never said she was sorry or cried or anything. I was stunned but would have to deal with her later. I got the kids in the car, wrapped Jack’s foot with a towel and wedged it in his car seat to hold it in place, headed to the hospital, and called my husband along the way.

The staff was able to clean off the blood and stitch up Jack’s foot. When they asked what happened, I was afraid to tell them the truth for fear of what might happen to Ava. I lied and said we had been playing outside in the sprinkler (which was true) and he must have stepped on something sharp in the grass. I could tell they didn’t quite believe me but had no way of proving otherwise. They were very kind and we were sent home with care instructions for Jack’s wound.

It was late when we got home. My husband made some mac and cheese while I cleaned up Jack’s crib. The steak knife was still lying there. I carefully put it in a Ziploc baggie and set it aside so I could change the sheet and wipe down the crib. The kids ate and Jack went down for the night. Ava sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket watching one of her favorite movies.

“I can’t believe we’re arguing about this.” I said under my breath.

“I can’t believe you’ve been spying on everyone for months without telling me.”

The camera had recorded footage of Ava walking into Jack’s room holding the steak knife down at her side. It showed her standing at the foot of his crib looking at him for about a minute before she carefully reached through the slats with the knife in her hand and making a slashing motion near his foot at which time Jack appears to scream and sit up. Ava is seen standing there looking at him without emotion and then turns toward the door and exits. A moment later, it shows me coming through the door and attending to Jack.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but I had to know. What do we do now?”

Before my husband could answer, Ava turned and looked at us standing there watching her and smiled.